The Life I Refuse to Waste

Zeldryn continued walking away from the hall.

After everything that had just happened and all the emotions that came with it, he wanted nothing more than to return to his room and lie down.

Fortunately, after Hera had shown him around earlier, he now understood the mansion’s layout well enough.

He no longer needed to ask for directions or have someone escort him.

At least, not when returning to his own room.

However, knowing the way did not make the journey any easier.

His body was still covered in bruises. Every step sent pain through his waist, back, and both legs. The wound at the back of his head also throbbed from time to time, especially whenever he moved too quickly.

When Zeldryn reached the staircase leading to the second floor, he stopped for a moment.

He stared at the steps before him.

“Why didn’t it hurt this much when I was angry earlier?”

Perhaps his body had been flooded with adrenaline.

Now that his emotions had begun to settle, all the pain that had been suppressed came rushing back at once.

Zeldryn raised one foot and began climbing.

One step.

Then another.

His movements were much slower than when he had descended with Hera. One hand remained firmly wrapped around the railing to support his body.

“Damn it, everything hurts.”

He cursed under his breath.

He tried to keep his expression normal, but every few steps, his brow would tighten from the pain.

When he was close to reaching the second floor, Zeldryn stopped again to catch his breath.

This body might have been young, but it felt as though it had been thrown from a moving carriage and then trampled by a herd of horses.

He was becoming increasingly curious about how brutal the beating had been last night.

Aeglo claimed that the homeless men had only been ordered to knock him unconscious.

But judging from the condition of his body, they had clearly done far more than throw a few punches.

They had beaten him nearly to death.

Perhaps the previous Zeldryn really had died.

Reka simply did not know exactly when his soul had entered this body.

Once the pain subsided slightly, Zeldryn resumed walking.

It seemed that news of what had happened in the hall had not yet reached the second floor.

Several times, he passed servants cleaning the corridor or carrying folded cloth.

Their reactions remained the same as before.

The moment they saw Zeldryn, their bodies immediately stiffened.

“Good afternoon, Lord Zeldryn.”

One servant smiled while lowering her head.

However, the smile looked stiff.

Her lips were curved upward, but her eyes were filled with fear.

Another servant carrying a basket of clothes quickly moved aside until her back nearly touched the wall, as though she feared Zeldryn would become angry simply because she had slightly blocked his path.

“Good afternoon, my lord.”

A false greeting.

A false smile.

False respect.

Zeldryn could see all of it clearly.

But this time, it did not bother him as much.

He simply walked past them without responding.

It was not because he wanted to be rude.

He just did not know how to answer without confusing them even more.

If he suddenly smiled and returned their greetings, another strange rumor would probably begin spreading.

Zeldryn, who normally insulted servants, had suddenly started greeting them politely.

Instead of improving the situation, they might assume he was planning something.

“Whatever.”

Zeldryn continued walking.

“Once news of what happened in the hall spreads, maybe their opinions will slowly begin to change.”

He did not expect everyone to trust him immediately.

Years of fear could not disappear because of a single incident.

Even what he had done earlier might not be seen as an act of kindness.

Some servants might believe that Zeldryn had only become angry because Henry and Aeglo betrayed him.

But at the very least, they now knew one thing.

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Henry and Aeglo were no longer under his protection.

That was enough for a beginning.

After walking with great difficulty for some time, Zeldryn finally reached his bedroom.

He opened the door, stepped inside, and immediately closed it behind him.

The moment no one else could see him, the serious expression on his face collapsed.

“This hurts like hell.”

Zeldryn walked with his body slightly hunched over.

He wanted to throw himself onto the bed immediately.

However, if he lay down now, he would most likely fall asleep again.

There was something more important he needed to think about.

Zeldryn walked toward the corner of the room, not far from the mirror he had previously used to examine his new body.

There was a wooden desk and a simple stool.

Several sheets of yellowish paper lay on the desk alongside a bottle of ink and a feather quill.

They looked exactly like the medieval writing tools he had often seen in movies.

Zeldryn pulled out the stool and slowly sat down.

“Ugh.”

Pain flared through his waist the moment it touched the wooden surface.

He waited for several moments until the pain subsided, then rested both hands on the desk.

He now possessed some basic information about the mansion.

He knew its layout, how many floors it had, the condition of the servants, and that the estate was located far from the Giorry family’s main territory.

He had also removed the two men who had been abusing Zeldryn’s name.

At least for the time being, no outsider would be able to enter the mansion and act however they pleased while hiding behind his authority.

But the real problem had not been solved.

His body was extremely weak.

Even before the beating, it seemed that the previous Zeldryn had never trained his body properly.

Combined with his current injuries, climbing a staircase now felt like an intense workout.

If someone tried to kill him, he probably would not be able to do anything except scream for the guards.

Zeldryn hated that.

He did not want his safety to depend entirely on other people.

“First, I need to recover this body.”

He looked at both of his hands.

There was no visible muscle.

His palms were also smooth, without any signs of sword training or hard labor.

“Once I recover, I need to start training.”

But physical training alone would not be enough.

Zeldryn remembered that this was not an ordinary world.

This was the world of a novel he had once read.

A world where someone could split a hill apart with a single swing of a sword.

A world that possessed a power known as Mana.

Reka’s memories regarding the concept of Mana were still somewhat vague.

Life Really Is Happy, Right? had more than five thousand chapters. Explanations about Mana were scattered throughout different parts of the story, and some of them had been extremely abstract.

But he still remembered the basics.

Mana was a mysterious particle spread throughout the entire world.

Its existence was similar to air.

Ordinary people could not see it, but it was always present around them.

Someone born with a Mana Hole could absorb those particles into their body.

The Mana Hole was located below the navel.

It functioned as both a container and an entrance for Mana.

The larger and stronger someone’s Mana Hole was, the more Mana they could absorb and control.

Unfortunately, not every human was born with one.

Only certain people possessed a Mana Hole.

Those who had one were known as Manholers.

“That name sounds a little strange when you really think about it.”

Zeldryn chuckled quietly.

However, in this world, the term carried enormous importance.

Manholers held a much higher position than ordinary people.

Even someone who had only recently begun learning how to use Mana could defeat an experienced soldier without a Mana Hole if they were comparing physical strength alone.

Most Manholers came from noble families.

But that did not mean nobles received Mana Holes because their titles made their blood purer or more sacred.

The reason was much simpler.

Mana Holes could be inherited.

Most founders of noble families had once been powerful warriors, accomplished soldiers, or Manholers who earned great achievements during wars.

After receiving land and titles, they married and had children.

Their abilities were then passed down to their descendants.

Even so, not every noble descendant was guaranteed to possess a Mana Hole.

Some noble children were born without one.

Likewise, commoners could be born with Mana Holes even if neither of their parents possessed one.

The chance was simply much lower.

Manholers were divided into nine tiers.

The higher the tier, the more absurd their power became.

By the end of the novel, the protagonist had only managed to reach Tier 7.

Yet his power at that point had already been enough to flatten several kingdoms, destroy mountains, defy the laws of nature, and survive wounds that should have killed an ordinary human.

Strangely, Tier 8 and Tier 9 were never actually shown in the story.

The two tiers were only mentioned a few times in legends and ancient records.

No character had ever been confirmed to have reached them.

Even after more than five thousand chapters, the author had never explained what a Tier 8 or Tier 9 Manholer was truly capable of.

“That damn author.”

Zeldryn sighed.

“He created a system with nine tiers, but only showed seven of them.”

If Tier 7 was already enough to destroy multiple kingdoms, he could not imagine what someone at Tier 9 might be capable of.

Perhaps they could destroy an entire continent.

Or perhaps their power had already surpassed human understanding.

Zeldryn then remembered the head of the Giorry family.

Zorin Giorry.

The biological father of this body.

If his memory was correct, Zorin was a Tier 5 Manholer.

In this world, Tier 5 was already considered exceptionally powerful.

Someone at that level could change the course of an entire war alone.

If Zorin genuinely wanted to destroy a small city, there probably would not be many people capable of stopping him.

“Even though he still ended up losing to the protagonist.”

Zeldryn chuckled.

“He was that powerful, yet he still ended up as a side character.”

The Giorry family had not received much attention in the novel.

Zorin appeared as one of the protagonist’s enemies and was eventually defeated.

After that, the Giorry family simply disappeared from the story.

There was no explanation regarding the fate of its other members.

There was no information about their territory.

Even Zeldryn’s name had never appeared at all.

But that was not particularly important now.

What mattered was that Zorin possessed a Mana Hole.

If the ability could be inherited, then Zeldryn had a fairly good chance of inheriting one too.

“I don’t need to become as powerful as the protagonist.”

Zeldryn supported his chin with one hand.

“If I can reach Tier 3 or Tier 4, that should already be more than enough.”

Tier 3 Manholers were highly respected.

At that level, someone could release Mana from their body and use it to create slashes, thrusts, or other forms of attack depending on the weapon they used.

They were also strong enough to face a group of ordinary soldiers alone.

Tier 4, however, belonged to an entirely different class.

Someone at that level could fight multiple Tier 3 Manholers without much difficulty.

With that kind of strength, Zeldryn would not need to keep hiding behind his noble status.

He would be able to protect himself.

Even if the Giorry family collapsed one day and all of its wealth disappeared, he could still find work as a knight, bodyguard, mercenary, or Mana instructor.

“At least I won’t be unemployed again.”

Zeldryn fell silent.

Memories of the three months after he had been fired resurfaced in his mind.

The days when he had done nothing but sit inside his rented room, send job applications that received no replies, and read novels to escape reality.

He laughed bitterly.

“Why am I suddenly feeling nostalgic about being unemployed?”

After receiving a second life, one of the first things he considered was how he would find work if he went bankrupt.

Apparently, the habits of an ordinary employee were still deeply rooted inside his head.

Zeldryn lightly slapped his cheeks.

“All right, enough.”

He straightened his posture.

Before thinking about Tier 3, Tier 4, or finding a job, there was one thing he needed to confirm first.

Did this body actually possess a Mana Hole?

If it did not, then all of his plans involving Mana would end before they had even begun.

Zeldryn tried to remember how the characters in the novel had sensed their Mana Holes for the first time.

They usually closed their eyes, controlled their breathing, and focused their attention on the area below their navel.

It sounded simple.

However, the novel had never clearly explained what they were supposed to feel.

Warmth?

Cold?

A pulse?

Or did it feel like there was a literal hole inside their stomach?

“Well, there’s no harm in trying.”

Zeldryn adjusted his sitting position until he was more comfortable.

He placed both hands on his thighs, slowly drew in a breath, and closed his eyes.

“All right.”

He focused all of his attention on the area below his navel.

“Let’s find out whether I have a Mana Hole.”

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