The Slime Doesn't Die from Mana Transfer-Chapter 114 : Video Call

Early the next morning, Rozelite decided to make a trip back to the palace.
There were Shadow Race operatives inside the city.
She wasn’t sure if Wells knew, but it was better to tell him. After all, this concerned not only the coronation ceremony in two days but also the Holy Sword whose whereabouts remained unknown. If the sword fell into demon hands, the situation would definitely take a dire turn.
With that in mind, Rozelite decided to go.
“Your father tried to kill you over and over as king, and yet you’re still willing to think from this country’s perspective?”
Russell didn’t try to stop her, but he spoke his mind.
“If it were me, I’d never do that. I wouldn’t take it out on the country, sure, but I also wouldn’t care about its fate. Since your father killed you for the sake of the nation’s survival, why should you care about the nation’s survival now?”
“But… he’s still my brother…”
Rozelite let out a faint sigh.
In truth, she had no conflict with Wells.
Since her return, he had immediately welcomed her back, restored her identity, and from start to finish, he hadn’t wronged her once. On the contrary, he had actively tried to protect her from such a fate.
From that angle, it was her sulking and resentment that seemed immature.
But because of her father’s actions, a subtle rift had grown between her and Wells. Perhaps they could never go back to being the brother and sister they once were.
On her way to the palace, Rozelite almost instinctively tried to use Russell’s mimicry and stealth to sneak in—until she remembered she no longer needed to hide. She walked openly to the palace gates. The guards, far from interrogating her, bowed respectfully and stepped aside to clear the path.
For Rozelite, it wasn’t anything shocking—just something she wasn’t used to anymore.
After notifying Wells’s chamberlain, she found her brother with ease.
It seemed Wells had given prior instructions: if Rozelite came, all other matters were to be delayed and she was to be prioritized.
“So, this is why you came to me?”
After hearing her explanation, Wells looked at her with a faint smile.
Rozelite nodded.
“The new Demon Lord will be chosen by the Holy Sword. Whoever claims it becomes the next Demon Lord. Right now, the demon races are trying everything to bypass the massive barrier under the Muscovy Mountain Range to seize the sword. Their goal isn’t just the coronation—it’s much bigger.”
To Rozelite, the coronation itself was meaningless to the demons.
It was just a ceremony.
With or without it, the Rhine would always have a king.
But now the enemy hid in the shadows, while they stood in the open. Less than two days remained. If they failed to root out all the demon spies in the capital, the coronation would inevitably be compromised. If something went wrong during the ceremony, the consequences would be disastrous.
Thus, Rozelite’s suggestion was to postpone the coronation.
After all, no one could guarantee that every spy would be uncovered in two days. Missing even one could undo everything.
“I see…”
Wells nodded slightly.
Her suggestion wasn’t without merit. But after a brief pause, he shook his head.
“The coronation is crucial. The date cannot be changed. Also, Roze…”
His gaze sharpened.
“Where exactly did you hear all this?”
Rozelite countered, “Does that matter, brother?”
“It matters a great deal.”
Wells’s eyes bore into hers.
“You’re grown now. You have secrets you’d rather keep, and I understand that as a brother. But as king, I cannot. If you can say all this, then it means you already have some lead, don’t you?”
Rozelite stayed silent.
“Very well. We’ll leave that for later.”
Wells shifted the subject.
“Since you came to tell me, it means you don’t want the coronation disrupted either. Then I want to ask you for a favor—help me investigate this. And root out the spies hiding in the capital. Can you?”
“…I can. But I have a condition.”
“What condition?”
“From now on, if there’s something I don’t want to tell you, please don’t ask.”
“As long as it doesn’t go against principle, I can agree.”
“And what is brother’s principle?”
“Harming the nation.”
“…Fine. Then it’s a deal.”
“A deal, Roze.”
Wells smiled.
Under Rozelite’s watch, he opened a drawer and took out a pitch-black box, placing it on his desk.
He pressed his palm to the box.
【Mana Perception Lv8】
Through Russell’s vision, mana flowed from Wells into the device. Its internal structure was intricate, mana circulating through channels Russell couldn’t even begin to understand. Then the box glowed faintly, and a pale-blue beam projected upward, forming a figure in midair.
The figure was blurry, but it was clearly a man in robes.
“Good morning, Professor Ewass,” Wells greeted.
The figure gave him a sharp look.
“Respected First Prince, I’ve told you many times—stop pressing me about progress. You’re only hindering my work! I will finish constructing the ritual spell before the coronation begins. Until then, can you be patient?”
The man—Ewass—sounded rather irritated.
Russell, meanwhile, was dumbfounded.
“What the hell is this? Video call?”
“It’s a remote communication device,”
Rozelite explained in her mind.
“The principle is complicated, but in short, it’s based on projection magic. I heard it was developed by a genius student at the Rhine Royal Magic Academy, and it’s only started trial use in the past few years.”
Russell:
“…Holy shit.”
So the world’s magical system was this advanced?
He had assumed magic here was rare. After all, they’d barely run into people capable of using it along their journey. He figured it was the usual trope—a great catastrophe severed magical inheritance, leaving progress stagnant.
But no—magic wasn’t rare at all.
It was only rare for commoners.
In noble circles, it was commonplace.