Crash!

A pale hand struck down, and dark blood dripped down from it.

The force of the blow was so strong that it cracked the stone floor, and the backlash injured the hand that delivered it. Yet, only moments later, the bleeding stopped, and the wound began to heal as if nothing had happened.

“Why won’t this damn wound heal!!!”

Bang!

This time, Sataniel struck down on the head of the female dark elf who had been standing by his side. Her head burst like a balloon, and she collapsed to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, but Sataniel paid her no mind, breathing heavily in his anger.

The wound left by Swordmaster Karl Oregon’s final strike continued to torment Sataniel, even after all these years.

A wound he thought would heal quickly had, instead, been burning incessantly, reviving the pain of that day as if it were fresh.

“Damn it! If only I had more information on the Blue Flower…”

He had been delayed in his search for that mythical flower that could resolve everything.

According to ancient texts, it grew only in darkness when sunlight briefly shone upon it, which made it almost impossible to locate. He was currently scouring the southern regions of the Empire, based on a recently discovered manuscript indicating that it had once been found there.

However, his nemesis, the Crimson Warden, had been constantly obstructing his search.

“Summon the executives!”

At Sataniel’s command, a dark elf who had been standing by his side gave a nod and disappeared in an instant.

He had resolved to put an end to these tiresome former comrades once and for all.

Rashu was strolling through the forest of his domain, as usual, with Ada. However, there was one notable difference today—while Ada would normally be darting ahead, she now hung limply over Rashu’s back like a ragdoll.

“Woof!”

“Ada… couldn't defeat the witch…”

Rashu let out a silent sigh as he listened to Ada’s lifeless muttering.

In Rashu's eyes, Owen was a particularly formidable human, perhaps the third strongest he had encountered, so Ada's recent defeat was not surprising.

But after her loss, Ada had been dejected, and it had been weighing on Rashu’s mind, leading him to bring her out for a walk in the forest.

“Lucas, when you find a trustworthy human, you must show them this place,” his mother, the guardian of the forest and protector of the Blue Flower, had once told him.

He looked back at the girl slumped over his shoulders.

This girl, though she was a constant source of trouble for him, must have been the trustworthy human his mother had spoken of.

His mother had taught him to sniff out certain things, and this girl always carried a scent that was bright and positive.

That was why he often shared the sweet-smelling things from the forest with her.

The very things that other humans with foul scents were always eager to find.

“Woof!”

“Huh? You want me to eat this again?”

Rashu carried Ada to a hidden cave deep within the forest—a secret place she had designated as her own. Inside, he barked at a blue flower growing in the shadows.

Ada, with a sour expression, initially refused to eat it, saying it tasted terrible. But after persistent barking from Rashu, she reluctantly began munching on the blue flower.

As Rashu watched her, he thought to himself.

If this girl were to inherit the treasure his kin had protected for so long, he was sure it would be alright.

“Honestly, I was shocked.”

Rupert thought back to a student he had unexpectedly encountered during the break at the Academy.

Drawn by the sound of a sweet yet uplifting melody, he found himself in one of the Music Department’s classrooms, where Wolfgang was playing the piano with one hand. Rupert couldn’t help but be surprised.

The music of this world was excellent, but perhaps because it catered to nobles, it tended to be overwhelmingly grand and heavy, often leaving listeners exhausted.

The meticulously calculated, almost formulaic compositions left no room for spontaneity. Though impressive, this grand music offered little respite for its audience.

Of course, there was an appeal to such music, and it was essential for epics and similar tales. But Rupert longed for something lighter and more relaxing.

So, when Wolfgang, like a miracle, produced the exact music Rupert had imagined, it felt like a gift from the heavens.

“Would you let me take care of that left hand of yours?” he had asked.

Rupert had already come up with a solution to Wolfgang’s problem, and he immediately made an offer, which Wolfgang accepted without hesitation.

“If you could fit me with a new golem hand, like His Highness the Crown Prince’s, I’d be forever in your debt!”

Wolfgang had indeed considered a golem hand before. But the ones currently available were all inferior versions of what Cron produced at Somerset’s workshop, making them unsuitable for delicate tasks.

They were fine for everyday activities but impractical for intricate work like playing instruments. Rupert’s offer of an authentic piece from the Somerset workshop was like a dream come true.

So, Wolfgang set off for the Somerset workshop to have the new hand made, promising to compose the main theme for Rupert’s next animation in return.

“That works out perfectly since the one weak spot in The Sylvania Music Band was indeed the music.”

If it had been a project he led, he would have gone to great lengths to find the perfect music, but since it was a product of his students’ hard work, he had let it slide.

Still, he had felt some regret, so securing Wolfgang as a capable new collaborator was a stroke of luck.

“Now, it’s time to get back to drawing.”

With the start of the break, Rupert had more free time, and he resolved to put extra effort into this new installment.

Manafia had been running for three months, and the story was progressing nicely. Given that this piece was meant to be brief yet impactful, he wanted to leave a strong impression on his readers.

“Owen left quite an impression.”

Mullers, who was the best fighter in the domain, had praised Owen’s ability to fend off Ada’s attacks.

“Even though he’s entirely on the defensive to avoid hurting Miss Ada, the fact that he can withstand it so solidly means he has a strong foundation.”

Mullers had explained this during the match between Ada and Owen, which Rupert and his father had observed.

“But isn’t Ada only eight years old? How is she capable of that?”

Mullers hadn’t answered that question, and Rupert, watching Owen, was struck with inspiration.

“The protagonist is currently defeating low-level vampires. It’s time to introduce a powerful foe to ramp up the tension.”

It was a common technique in manga.

Emphasizing the protagonist’s strength was essential, but if that was all there was, readers would soon lose interest.

At the right moment, a formidable opponent needed to appear. There were two ways to handle this.

“First, introduce an opponent slightly stronger than the protagonist so they barely scrape by with a win.”

In shonen manga, it was almost a requirement to include an enemy stronger than the protagonist, who then triumphs through the power of friendship and effort. But this had become so basic that unless it was executed exceptionally well, it was prone to seem clichéd.

“The second is to introduce a sacrifice.”

The second option was to bring in an overwhelmingly powerful adversary that the protagonist couldn’t hope to defeat, pushing them to the brink of death.

The dramatic entrance of another character who saves the protagonist by sacrificing themselves was a plot device that always left a lasting impact on readers.

“This is where Juro, who’s practically the protagonist’s mentor, should step in.”

Among Van Helsing fans, Juro was as beloved as the protagonist. His first appearance, where he incinerated the vampires who had massacred the protagonist’s family, had left a strong impression, earning him many admirers.

Rupert decided that Juro would be the perfect character to use here.

“He’ll defend the protagonist, just as Owen held his ground against Ada’s attack.”

The protagonist, always reckless in their quest for revenge, rushes at a powerful enemy without a second thought and falls into danger.

A strong ally sacrifices themselves to protect the protagonist, who would otherwise be capable of a fair fight.

Once Rupert had the idea in his head, transferring it to the storyboard was a quick process.

“If I can naturally lead this into the protagonist growing from the loss of their mentor…”

While a flawless protagonist is appealing, a journey of growth resonates universally. There was nothing more powerful than a protagonist who, after losing their mentor due to a mistake, grows stronger and ultimately exacts revenge on their enemy.

As he worked seamlessly on the manga, Rupert felt the urge to share these ideas with Iolin.

“Her work was quite impressive.”

Iolin’s The Puppet Play closely adhered to the core of shonen manga in Rupert’s eyes. The only drawback was that it employed multiple protagonists—something even seasoned mangaka were hesitant to attempt.

While the three protagonists’ storylines were currently building up, which could unleash incredible potential in the mid-story, the slow buildup risked losing readers' interest.

“You have to trim where necessary and move swiftly through the main story arcs.”

Giving Iolin honest feedback was always daunting, but watching her improve remarkably with every critique made it irresistible for Rupert to hold back.