Chaos Heir - Chapter 872: Approach

Major Foxnor couldn’t understand what Khan was saying. Actually, all the people in the room were confused. The concept of a living element was too foreign for humans, and Khan didn’t add much to his explanation.

Nevertheless, Khan ignored the general confusion and approached one of the soldiers to seize some booze. Afterward, he looked at the interactive table, sipping from his glass. His mind was a mystery to the audience, and he didn’t fare any better.

Khan was no scientist. The Thilku had acknowledged him as a Shaman, but that title didn’t have an exact meaning, especially to him. Khan didn’t complete any specific training for the role nor follow the instructions of a proper expert in the field. He lacked theory, mainly using his heightened senses to understand what humans were blind to.

Khan, too, was unfamiliar with the concept of a living element, but he knew what he had sensed. Moreover, mastering the Niqols arts broadened his perspective on mana. He had even witnessed the most bizarre phenomenon, opening himself to that possibility.

‘How do I deal with this now?’ Khan wondered, his hand automatically pouring more booze into his mouth.

The topic wasn’t only interesting. Khan even had a dog in that fight. The Nak corpse had told him to evolve past mana, so studying its different shapes could provide an answer to that riddle. It might also give him ideas on how to use his element to fulfill the Nak legacy without their help, which he very much desired.

“Does Garret Bizelli specialize in mutations?” Khan asked, his gaze still fixed on the interactive desk.

“It’s part of his education, My Prince,” Abraham confirmed. “Put him on the case. Have the Bizelli family send specialists, too.”

Abraham responded, but Khan didn’t hear him. Khan retreated into his mind, reviewing the matter from a different perspective.

Clearly, Khan wouldn’t have reached those conclusions years ago. He had been too ignorant and inexperienced to consider those developments. That vouched for his growth but also suggested that he had encountered similar cases.

Professor Parver was the first example that popped into Khan’s mind, but he could also find something closer to his persona. His Cloud spell was technically alive, even if the specifics slightly differed.

‘The cloud only embodies my element’s wild nature,’ Khan thought, rejecting the idea. ‘I even aligned our mindsets. It expresses my uninhibited urges now.’

Khan couldn’t apply his spell to the topic, but his cursed knife seemed to fit it. His weapon was alive, and he had even replicated part of its nature when creating the life-saving disposable item. Khan knew the field, so he could work with it.

‘Weapons can have wills and be alive,’ Khan considered, ‘Sort of. It stands to reason that elements can, too, especially since they have the mana behind them.’

Khan silently reviewed the topic, his thoughts expanding the field and stretching into anything remotely similar. He had seen and learned so much, so he had memories to explore with his new expertise.

“Summon Professor Parver from the Harbor here,” Khan ordered. “Have him bring his clinical file.”

Responses resounded in the lab, but Khan had already retreated into his mind. A proper project was taking shape, and he didn’t hesitate to pursue it.

‘How many did I miss?’ Khan wondered. ‘How many of such cases I didn’t see or recognize? The Foxnor descendant can’t be the only one in all humankind.’

Truth be told, Khan didn’t necessarily miss anything. The Global Army had known about mana illnesses for a while, so there had to have been more cases like the Foxnor descendant. Many might have been hopeless, preventing those young soldiers from appearing on the public

scene.

The families themselves might have avoided nurturing those ill descendants to focus on more promising offspring. The latter was a better bet, especially since the Global Army lacked cures for the former.

‘There might be more in the tournament,’ Khan realized, ‘But there are bound to be even more among those who didn’t come here, among those the families gave up upon.’

Khan felt confident about that hypothesis. After all, humankind had enjoyed mana for five hundred years, so mutations and irregularities must have happened. The lack of cures or solutions had labeled them illnesses, casting them into the dark depths of history.

However, confirming the hypothesis wouldn’t amount to anything. Finding unique and special cases wouldn’t change anything for Khan and the Global Army. He had to provide a solution to use and benefit from that topic.

‘How do I deal with this?’ Khan thought, returning to his initial question. ‘What would [Zalpa] do?’

Khan lingered on those thoughts for a few seconds before completely disregarding them. ‘No, that’s not it,’ Khan realized. ‘[Zalpa] would put them through the Niqols arts, hoping they can develop as I did.’

That would theoretically work, but the process would take years. Besides, learning from scratch was easier than replacing existing knowledge. Khan had seen that with Abraham and the other scientists. Humans would be humans, so they needed a different approach. “Call Sen-nu,” Khan ordered. “I want to hear what the Fuveall have to say about this.”

“My Prince,” Abraham called, seemingly unwilling to contradict Khan before the lab’s audience. “The Fuveall team is hard at work on the other project. I’m not sure they can clear their schedule.”

“Then hire more Fuveall,” Khan said, waving his glass toward the soldiers to get a refill. “I want as many eyes as possible on this matter.”

The nobles, Thilku, and the rest of the important audience didn’t intervene. It wasn’t their place to dictate over Khan’s internal matters, and seeing him in action granted insights into his persona and skills. Still, occasional looks fell on Monica since she often acted as Khan’s

voice of reason.

Nevertheless, the audience underestimated Monica’s complete faith in Khan. He had seen something, so that something existed, and Monica was ready to go broke to support him. She knew he was right and would succeed, even if he had yet to discover how.

As for the Foxnor group, the interest in their descendant elated them. Even if the issue had no solution, they still gained the chance to keep interacting with Khan and his influential allies. People would kill for that opportunity, and they got it by losing the tournament. The event was beyond fortunate.

However, one figure among the Foxnor group saw the potential issues with that interest. Major Foxnor had interacted with powerful parties, so he knew how quickly things could lead to catastrophes. Khan also had a grim fame, so he feared what disappointing him could cause.

“Prince Khan,” Major Foxnor called, his brain mustering the politest words he had ever muttered. “I’m deeply grateful for your intervention and interest, but it would pain me to waste your time. My family can relieve you of this burden.”

“It can’t,” Khan stated. “I’ve already taken it.”

“But, My Prince,” Major Foxnor politely complained. “We will happily share my nephew’s clinical file to prove that we have done everything in our power. We can’t ask you to support

us.”

Khan struggled to focus on the lab since his mind was exploring fields the audience couldn’t even consider. Yet, Major Foxnor kept distracting him, so he decided to remove the doubts

first.

“Come out!” Khan shouted, a faint clicking cry echoing in his throat.

Khan’s voice carried more than words. His aura grew heavier again, converging on the fainted descendant. He had unleashed the entirety of his presence, and the Foxnor man’s mana didn’t

disappoint.

The descendant’s mana knew it was done. A threat bigger than anything it could imagine had surrounded it, triggering its most primitive instincts. A cornered animal would forsake reason and self-preservation, and the red sparks followed that behavior.

A wave of red sparks rose from the descendant’s body, tearing his military uniform and flesh. That mana didn’t even condense. It directly shot at Khan, launching a desperate attack against

that deadly presence.

The attack had the shape of an everchanging crackling cloud. Its sparks never stopped crackling, altering density, length, and width. Yet, its uppermost part almost solidified, gaining a horizontal opening that resembled a mouth.

The crackling noises intensified as the cloud lunged at Khan. The crash seemed unavoidable and threatened to involve the important guests. However, Khan took a graceful step forward, and his free arm performed a sharp movement.

The audience almost couldn’t believe their eyes when Khan slapped the crackling mouth, sending it to the ceiling. The rest of the cloud followed, gathering on the metal surface above. The spell was far from done, but four purple-red needles suddenly landed on its sparks.

The needles exploded, unleashing spherical destruction on the sparks. The cloud’s mouth fell prey to the violent mana, shattering alongside the rest of its energy. That mana quickly dispersed, only leaving a dark spot on the ceiling.

“That can rival spells from third-level mages,” Khan announced, pointing at the dark spot. “Meanwhile, your nephew is a second-level warrior. He shouldn’t have the mana nor the ability to cast something that strong.”

Abraham abandoned his console and hurried toward the descendant. Releasing that much power had injured him, which demanded immediate medical attention.

“My theory is that it will get worse,” Khan explained. “Until host and mana are aligned, they’ll keep fighting each other, and you can see who is winning.”