Shadow Slave: Arthur Leywin

Arthur’s world collapsed in the blink of an eye.

Everything around him seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second—time slowing until it felt as though it needed permission from some greater existence just to pass.

Arthur stood with his gaze lowered. His hands fell limp at his sides, and his knees trembled slightly.

His golden eyes were fixed on the smile his father’s corpse still wore. Everything had happened so fast that he hadn’t even registered what was happening.

The last thing his father’s azure eyes had seen was Arthur’s figure approaching him, smiling…

His heart seemed to stop at that moment.

‘No.’

His Aether Sense alerted him that the invisible figure was still moving.

‘Father… No, no.’

The invisible figure moved at the same speed as before, heading toward the other three. Arthur sensed the movement perfectly, yet his body wouldn’t respond.

His brain began sending alarm signals—telling him to move because the danger was still nearby. Yet he was incapable of moving.

The invisible figure approached Sylvie and didn’t hesitate to attack her. She, unable to perceive it at that moment, didn’t move, and in a matter of moments the attack was going to claim another life.

But that wasn’t what happened.

From Sylvie’s shadow rose the figure of a Stone Saint, blocking the attack at the last moment with her shield…

The impact created a shockwave that sent all three Ascended flying several meters in different directions.

Sunny was the first to recover, and thanks to Shadow Step, he managed to prevent Jet from crashing into the remains of one of the buildings. Nightmare appeared behind his master seconds later.

Sylvie, who was closest to the explosion, flew in Arthur’s direction—and he emerged from his state of shock and denial thanks to the explosive sound.

His body moved on its own to catch Sylvie’s out-of-control figure. Holding her with both arms, he lowered her gently to the ground.

The invisible figure—which, now in a correct state of mind, Arthur realized was actually human—was none other than a Transcendent.

‘A Saint?’ he asked himself.

At that moment, Sylvie’s voice reached him, and he noticed she was consumed by terror.

‘I-it’s… it’s Whispering Blade!’

With the name in mind, he understood perfectly the situation they were in—and it wasn’t good at all.

There could only be one reason for a Saint of Valor to be in Falcon Scott after everything had ended…

To eliminate the survivors.

Mainly the two members of the Song Clan…

Whispering Blade didn’t attack again upon seeing his attack blocked. Instead, he moved a few meters away from them, and soon he stopped being invisible.

In his place stood a tall, stern man with sharp features. His black hair was flecked with gray at the temples. His strong figure radiated an almost palpable feeling of authority and pressure, and his steely blue eyes were calm and piercing.

The armor he wore was simple, as though the man did not need its protection.

He was none other than Saint Madoc, Whispering Blade… brother of Anvil and the nominal leader of the Valor Clan.

And he had been sent with the mission of eliminating Sylvie and Arthur.

Madoc smiled slightly upon seeing them, then looked at his father’s corpse—but his expression didn’t change in the slightest. Turning back to them, his smile widened slightly.

“Paragon of Purity and Heart of Ouroboros—exactly the ones I came to see.”

Arthur’s jaw clenched upon noticing the contempt in the Saint’s voice.

“Whispering Blade…” he murmured through clenched teeth.

“Good—since you already know who I am, let’s go straight to what matters.” He took a step forward and brought his hands behind his back. “It won’t be a surprise to you that I came with the mission of eliminating you, so save me the work and surrender before we begin.”

Arthur took a step forward as Djinn of War formed over his body and Dawn’s Ballad appeared in his hand.

“Surrender?” Another step. “I don’t care who you are, after what you’ve done, you’re going to die.” A sharp intake of breath. “I am going to kill you.”

Madoc’s eyes became more piercing at that moment.

“Kill me?” he asked. “Pray tell, how will you do that?”

Arthur smiled darkly.

“We outnumber you, and I don’t care what it costs. I’ll kill you with my own hands if necessary.”

Looking at the four Ascended and Saint, Madoc chuckled.

“Four Ascended and an Echo against me…” He let the words hang for a few seconds. “Perhaps I should have brought someone with me…”

Having said that, a shower of silver particles began to appear, and in a matter of seconds… the figure of a four-meter-tall abomination appeared behind the Saint.

Grinning at them, he added, “Perhaps this will suffice?” His voice carried a note of amusement.

The four were caught off guard by the Echo the Saint summoned—mainly because it wasn’t Transcendent rank… nor even Ascended.

In front of them should be one of the few Supreme Echoes in existence.

The Echo imposed a presence few creatures could imitate… but that wasn’t all. Its physique was completely overwhelming, towering over them with its four meters of height and almost human figure.

With arms and legs slightly longer than normal and an elongated but defined torso, the Echo seemed to be what would happen if someone tried to perfect a human and the experiment turned out both right and wrong at the same time.

Arthur identified that it was only a Beast—but at the same time, it was a Supreme Beast. None of the four had ever even seen a creature of such rank, and now they were going to have to face the Echo of one.

Looking at the Echo, he clenched his teeth harder.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Madoc asked.

Arthur looked at the Valor Saint and asked again.

“Why?” A breath. “Why did you kill my father?” He took another step, approaching dangerously close. “He had nothing to do with this… so why?”

Whispering Blade didn’t even bother with his target’s proximity—if anything, he was glad the idiot was getting so close despite the difference in rank.

“Because my mission wasn’t just to eliminate the two of you, it was all the survivors.” His piercing eyes moved to Sunny and Jet’s figures. “Fortunately, Soul Reaper isn’t in good shape. Otherwise, fighting her would have been complicated.”

“There’s no need for you to worry about her, I’m more than enough,” Arthur replied.

Madoc’s patience ran out.

“If you believe that… then prove it.”

With words exhausted, only violence remained to settle things.

Time seemed to freeze for a second… the next, the plaza exploded with violence.

Arthur moved without caring about his physical condition—which wasn’t extremely good. Still, Godstep finally closed the distance between them, and the next thing heard was the clash of swords.

He attacked with everything he had from the start. His seven augmentations coursing through his body via his widened Aether channels. His physical power reaching a level never before seen in him—yet his body didn’t wait to make him feel the strain.

Arthur slashed toward the neck, but the Saint of Valor intercepted the blow with ease. The clash of swords sent sparks flying, blinding both of them for an instant.

In that brief span, both moved with such speed that they began to leave trails in their wake. Arthur, however, was consistently slower; furthermore, his body ached with every movement he made.

As he took a step to the left, he felt a sharp tug in his thigh. Though that wound healed, another appeared instantly on his bicep just as he launched a new attack.

The realm of violence in which both began to move left the rest momentarily stunned—but the others weren’t without danger…

The Supreme Echo launched itself with all its mass toward the other three… Saint was the first to return the aggression, launching herself with her shield to cover the rest.

Sunny soon followed by summoning the Sin of Solace in his hand, and Sylvie was about to follow—but a hand on her shoulder stopped her…

Turning, she realized the hand belonged to Jet.

“Promise me you’ll protect him.”

She was taken aback by the question. Jet repeated it, raising her voice while her face transformed into one of panic.

Sylvie didn’t hesitate to respond anyway.

“I will.”

The hand Jet was holding her with began to tremble slightly.

“Then go with him.” She got off Nightmare, limping, and her typical War Scythe appeared in her hand. “I’ll help Sunny. Go with Arthur. He’s not in good shape, and he’s only going to get himself killed.”

Sylvie nodded and tried to communicate with Arthur mentally, but he had the connection blocked. Instead, Regis—who had just woken up from the commotion—communicated.

‘Arthur isn’t responding to anything. His mind is completely empty.’

Sylvie clenched her teeth and said:

‘Go help Sunny and Jet. I’ll take care of Art.’ Then she launched herself toward where the fight was. Regis, for his part, left Arthur’s core and went in the other direction.

Madoc twisted his torso and watched with contempt as the attack didn’t even impact his armor. The next instant, his elbow impacted Arthur’s nose, breaking it and staining the ground with blood.

The nose grew back the next instant anyway…

Arthur was managing the pain he felt throughout his body at the same time as the essence he had left—and to make everything worse, the future possibility of his Titan core breaking.

He clearly hadn’t seriously thought about the possibilities of victory before starting the fight. Still, he didn’t care… if everything said he was going to lose, then Arthur was going to do everything he could to win.

But having the will to do something never means you’ll achieve it in this world. So when the Valor Saint moved faster than previously in the fight… Arthur found himself in an awkward position…

Madoc’s longsword moved at a speed Arthur was incapable of reacting to, even with his Aether Sense. The destination of the attack was none other than his unprotected neck.

His golden eyes widened slightly, and Destruction was about to come alive over Djinn of War—but a change in his Aether Sense made him change his mind at the last second.

Opening himself to the attack, he instead commanded an Aether sword created with his Awakened Ability to vibrate through the Aetheric Pathways toward the Saint’s neck.

Madoc’s longsword was about to impact Arthur’s unprotected neck, but the first contact it made was against Sylvie’s silver sword, which interposed itself in the path.

Arthur tilted his body backward, dodging both swords as Godstep carried him to another destination. Meanwhile, Sylvie blocked the lethal attack and took his place.

Simultaneously, the Aether sword finished materializing over Madoc’s neck—but the attack only served to bounce off the Saint’s simple armor.

Arthur appeared at his back and didn’t hesitate to launch Dawn’s Ballad forward in a thrust toward his chest. Sylvie, with her silver sword, performed the same reaction…

Madoc didn’t panic. Even in such a situation, with both threats—one at his back and one at his front—he was still a Saint. It was widely known that when he fought, it was as though the world itself was slicing enemies’ bodies apart.

Whispering Blade used his transformation at that moment, becoming invisible and twisting his torso with the speed of a Saint.

Both swords passed by, leaving their wielders in awkward positions.

The longsword in his hand moved forward, while an enchanted dagger appeared in his other hand and moved backward.

Soon… both weapons embedded themselves in his rivals, drawing groans from their throats.

Both separated, staying a few meters from the Valor Saint while clutching their wounds. Blood staining the gloves of their armor, but they were too focused to care.

At the same time, they regrouped, standing side by side while their wounds began to heal—though in Arthur’s case, very slowly…

Madoc smiled upon seeing both present to face him.

“You save me a lot of work if you both attack me.”

Neither responded to his provocation, and the moment Whispering Blade launched himself forward, Arthur shot to the right while Sylvie did the same to the left. At the same time, the control they both exercised over the ambient Mana and Aether became absolute.

The sum of their powers was greater than its parts.

The ambient Mana and Aether seemed to resonate with their respective wielders, growing increasingly docile in their presence. The particles no longer resisted their influence, flowing around them as if eager to obey their every command.

And yet, neither Arthur nor Sylvie was actively exerting their control over the surrounding energies. It was almost as if their mere presence was enough to influence the very nature of the two forces.

The Mana and Aether around them moved faster, their movements accelerating in response to the other’s presence. At the same time, the lack of resistance made every movement smoother, allowing the energy to flow with greater force and efficiency.

One strengthened the other—not by directly augmenting their power, but by making the world around them far more willing to yield to their actions.

And there was more to it, too.

The initial exchanges were clumsy, primarily due to a lack of practice, but both continued to launch attacks, dodge, and defend themselves. Arthur even ventured to make greater use of his abilities, having noticed that the essence cost was lower than before. Sylvie, for her part, followed his lead.

The longer they fought side by side, the more naturally the two forces seemed to cooperate, their movements falling into an effortless rhythm. Mana and Aether—two fundamentally different forms of energy—flowed through the battlefield.

Their combined influence was greater than either could have achieved alone.

Still, Arthur felt a slight sense of dissatisfaction.

The Saint had chosen Sylvie as the primary target.

He didn’t like it one bit.

In any case… Madoc had made a mistake. A very serious mistake. He shouldn’t have paid less attention to him.

Mainly because he was angry. He was tired to the bone, yet his blood was boiling as never before. His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching his teeth.

Realmheart came alive in the runes on his arms and beneath his eyes. The entire flow of Aether and Mana opened before his eyes, and he didn’t hesitate in the slightest to rain attacks down on the Valor Saint.

Multiple Aether swords manifesting in the air while others traversed the Aetheric Pathways in offensive directions. Simultaneously, Sylvie manipulated the ambient Mana, bringing a current of spells against their enemy.

Whispering Blade wasn’t completely defenseless against all this. He moved with a speed neither of them could replicate. His invisible figure representing an enormous danger on the battlefield.

He moved his body in ways that were difficult to comprehend—almost as if the battlefield were his natural habitat. And practically, it was.

He was a veteran of many wars and had led the Knights of Valor into plenty of untamed regions of the Dream Realm. He had spent years of lengthy and harrowing campaigns of subjugation to expand the borders of human territory.

Yet at that moment, he was facing two of the strongest Ascended in history. Two Ascended Titans.

No matter how much experience he possessed, nor the superior speed he might have—at some point, he was going to make a mistake, and both of his rivals wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of it.

Such a situation didn’t hesitate to present itself on the battlefield.

The two of them had created distance between each other, and so Madoc could only face one at a time. That was why he was a fraction of a moment too late to react to Arthur’s attack.

The ground split and exploded under his foot as he pushed himself forward. The air, which was usually soft and unnoticeable, was suddenly nonexistent. The pressure it exerted over all existence seemed to ignore him.

Arthur wanted to let out a scream, a roar, a battle cry… But he didn’t, of course.

Why would he announce his strike while attacking the enemy from behind?

Dawn’s Ballad fell silently.

But Whispering Blade was suddenly not in the place he had been a split second before.

Madoc had somehow twisted out of the way of the Transcendent’s blade. A heartbeat later, Arthur could only feel the air displaced by the Saint’s body.

That, too, was fine.

Arthur dropped into a crouch, feeling something tear through the empty space just above him.

The next instant, a cry, heavy with fury, rang out.

Madoc may have managed to evade the stab in the back that Arthur had attempted, but in doing so, he was forced to turn his back on Sylvie.

Without wasting a second, she seized the opportunity to drive her silver sword into her opponent’s back.

The invisible Saint pulled away and paused for a moment, casting his gaze towards his back. There, a long gash had opened. Droplets of blood trickled down his side, although neither Arthur nor Sylvie could see them.

The wound was superficial; it was not serious in the slightest.

The Saint said nothing before launching into a fresh assault. Words were unnecessary, and none of them had anything to say. Their swords, their claws, and their Aspects would speak for them.

The blessed by Beast God, the being of Aether and Flesh, and an invisible champion clashed in the middle of the frozen siege capital. They were moving so fast that it was hard to see what was happening, the ground shaking from the fury of their murderous clash.

Their battle was frenzied and turned everything around them into pure havoc, but it wasn’t senseless. In fact, each of the three remained chillingly cold-blooded and calculating in the midst of the furious confrontation.

Even while augmenting each other indirectly, Arthur and Sylvie were slower and weaker than the Saint of Valor… but not to the degree where he could instantly annihilate them.

More importantly than that, there were two of them. Even if they were not Madoc’s equals in terms of raw power, they could use their knowledge and understanding of each other to make up for the gap in strength.

And so, the battle raged on.

Scores of strikes were exchanged in the span of a dozen seconds. The ground was broken and upturned.

For a few short moments, a fragile equilibrium seemed to have been created between the two Masters and the Saint.

Astonishingly, Arthur and Sylvie had not been torn to pieces by Whispering Blade, like a couple of Ascended should have been.

They even managed to push him back. But none of them was very happy about the result…

It was because they knew that this equilibrium would not last long.

Right now, even while fighting at the absolute limit of their capabilities, both sides were carefully studying their adversary.

The side that managed to glean the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses first was going to win, while the side that failed was going to be killed.

But Arthur wasn’t interested in discovering Madoc’s weaknesses. He had always had the strategy to defeat him up his sleeve—he only needed to weaken him a little so that Destruction could take effect.

Something he confirmed while fighting the Winter Beast was that when using Destruction against someone, the target’s will mattered greatly. He had more or less known this since the Forgotten Shore, but now he had experienced it directly.

The difference in will between an Ascended Titan and a Corrupted Titan was abysmal. Even though he was now fighting a Transcendent Beast, his rival was human.

Arthur judged that the nature of the will in that case must be different somehow, though he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even very sure what the concept of will meant, but it was something that had always been present in his life.

It wasn’t for nothing that he lost fragments when using his Aether-related attributes…

With the plan having been formed some time ago, he finally opened the door to communicate with Sylvie. Arthur didn’t know when he had closed it—still, it wasn’t the moment to think about those things.

Transmitting the plan and hearing the response, both began working toward the same goal.

A thunderous crash shook the world… yet the screams that tore through the din of the battlefield proved far more deafening.

All three were slowly reaching their limits—limits that Arthur should have surpassed long ago, yet whenever he felt himself nearing them, it was as if they had simply shifted to the next block of an infinite city.

As for Sylvie, her demeanor had changed entirely. If she had once appeared both delicate and deadly, she had now evolved into something that took both those qualities to an entirely new level.

She had become more graceful without sacrificing an ounce of lethality, more delicate in her movements yet more devastating in their execution.

She looked like a beautiful huntress who had come to bring an end to her prey. Her beauty served as little more than bait, luring her opponents into a false sense of security before revealing the deadly nature hidden beneath it. By the time they realized their mistake, the hunt was already over.

And the hunt on Sylvie and Arthur’s side was finally reaching its end.

The three of them were like an obliterating hurricane. The bloody fight between Madoc, Sylvie, and Arthur was no less furious and destructive than the clash between Sunny, Saint, Regis, and Jet against the Supreme Echo… or maybe even more so.

Every second they spent fighting against the terrifying Saint threatened to be their last, and even if they continued to remain alive, their fates would be sealed due to simple exhaustion—both of their bodies and their souls.

Sylvie and Arthur possessed astonishing endurance, and their pools of essence were many times larger than those of ordinary Masters. However, they still could not compete with a Saint.

Additionally, there was the fact that both were already tired before the fight even started, making the difference even more abysmal.

But that was fine.

Arthur couldn’t ask for Regis’s help because he was helping in the battle against the Supreme Echo—a battle that he and Saint were leading. Meanwhile, Sunny and Jet took different roles to close the distance.

A distance that remained abysmal between them, and for that reason, the only way to use Destruction in Arthur’s arsenal was limited to two options.

One was to use it on himself… the other was with Djinn of War.

With no influx of fragments to sustain the ability’s cost, the first option was almost suicide—while the second had a very complicated requirement to fulfill.

Destruction activates on the armor, giving it absolute defensive capacity. But its offensive capacity was very low.

The only way Arthur could think of in such a situation to guarantee his victory was if he managed to have physical contact with Madoc. But that was exactly what he had avoided throughout the entire fight.

If, even while maintaining his distance and fighting perfectly, he had already sustained wounds all over his body—and now stood on the verge of shattering his Titan core, with his essence reserves at their absolute minimum—what would happen if he got any closer?

He would almost certainly die.

And yet, would dying really be so wrong?

Perhaps it was what he deserved in the end… but before that, he would make sure to take his father’s murderer down with him.

A profound surge of rage erupted from within him as the thought took shape. His golden eyes hardened, and his stance shifted.

Enough of the cautious Arthur. Enough of being constantly held back. Enough of living under the pressure to always make the “right” decision.

There never was a “right” decision, and there never would be. If such a thing existed, then why did his father lie dead just a few meters away?

What had he done to deserve such a fate?

What had his sister done to cause her father’s death? Or his mother, to ensure her husband would never return home?

Nothing. They had done nothing wrong.

Yet the proof that no such thing as a “right” decision exists in this world lay there on the ground with a gaping wound in his heart.

His jaw clamped shut, and Arthur could have sworn he heard the sharp, crunching sound of something breaking.

If the world was going to treat him this way… then he would have no choice but to bring destruction upon those who forced him into the wrong path.

Perhaps this was what he was always meant to do.

For so long, Arthur had tried to be someone worthy of the people he loved. Someone who could protect them, someone who could make the right choices, someone who would never allow his own desires to come before the lives of others.

He had bound himself with countless invisible chains, each one forged from a promise, an expectation, or a regret. He had accepted every burden placed upon his shoulders, believing that if he simply endured enough, if he made enough sacrifices, he would eventually be able to protect everything that mattered to him.

And yet, here he was.

His father was dead. His family was broken. And what have all those chains done? They’ve only held him back.

So why should he continue to bear them?

Why should he keep holding himself back for a world that had never once shown him the same mercy?

Is mercy, in reality, a lie?

Arthur lowered his head, his golden eyes hidden beneath the shadow of his hair.

Then something within him snapped.

Not his Titan core, not his battered body, nor even his already fraying mind.

Something far more fundamental.

Arthur stopped trying to be the person he thought he had to be and began to embrace the other part of him.

Perhaps he should be more like Grey.

What was humanity in the cruel world they lived in? Did possessing it offer any benefit at all?

He had spent years trying to bury that part of himself beneath a layer of promises, chains, and restrictions—only to be rewarded by the arrival of a rival intent on reducing everything he held dear to ruin, simply because he posed a threat.

What or who was to stop Valor from sending assassins after Ellie? Or his mother?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

With his father lying dead, he couldn’t help but wonder if all those efforts had been for nothing…

Perhaps Grey had understood something he hadn’t. The world didn’t reward kindness, nor did it spare those who made the right choices. Sometimes, no matter what one did, everything still fell apart.

So why should he keep holding himself back?

Why should he continue to bear the weight of every promise, every expectation, every impossible responsibility he had placed upon his own shoulders?

Why should he continue to be reasonable?

One by one, the chains that had bound him for so long began to break.

Slowly his mind began to clear, and the world around him seemed to lose all its color.

Only three things remained in his mind.

Ellie and his mother.

Sylvie, Sunny, and Jet.

And the bastard he was going to kill.

Sylvie was in a hard exchange of blows with Madoc. In the distance, Arthur had taken a slight distance from both of them, his wounds healing faster than before.

He stood with his gaze lowered, his eyes observing the ground broken by the clash they had been having for the last few minutes.

The moment Arthur raised his gaze… Sylvie froze slightly.

Those weren’t the eyes he always had. She didn’t recognize the man approaching them with calm steps. His posture was too straight, his jaw slightly raised.

He moved with the confidence of a king. Movements neither hurried nor slow, yet at the same time his presence seemed to demand attention.

She found herself unable to move her eyes from his figure.

Time seemed to stop for a second on the destroyed, frozen battlefield… the next.

Multiple runes activated over Arthur’s body.

Realmheart came alive again, golden runes lighting up along his arms and beneath his golden eyes. The next was Static Void.

The second Godrune he obtained came alive, and in an instant everything around him seemed to freeze. Sunny stopped mid-attack, Jet couldn’t even blink.

Madoc and the Supreme Echo fought with all their will to escape the effect, eventually succeeding—but not before two seconds had already passed, catching them by surprise.

Those two seconds were enough for the Godrune to consume the remaining fragments of his Titan Core…

A current of pain exploded from the depths of his soul. Yet Arthur didn’t even blink.

What was pain to him? Weakness…

The Godrune devoured the fragments of his core greedily, but no more so than the next one.

Another sharp pang ran down Arthur’s spine as Destruction came alive within him.

Arthur accepted the burden the rune brought with it.

The familiar sensation of his mind being consumed by an insatiable urge to destroy washed over him. It was a power that demanded everything from its wielder, threatening to reduce thought to instinct and reason to little more than an obstacle.

Every breath seemed to feed the flames smoldering within his soul, and every passing moment made them burn brighter.

Yet Arthur felt no fear.

For once, he had no desire to resist it, no need to convince himself that he was above such impulses. He simply allowed the power to flow through him, embracing its weight without letting it dictate his actions.

Destruction was not his master. Nor was it something he needed to suppress.

It was simply another part of himself.

The next to activate was Godstep.

He vanished in a flash, reappearing beside the invisible Saint with his blade already descending.

Madoc barely had time to react before a blade of Aether descended upon him. The Saint twisted aside, evading the strike by a hair’s breadth—but the moment he regained his footing, Arthur’s golden eyes met his.

Madoc didn’t like at all what he saw reflected in them.

King’s Presence erupted with greed.

An invisible pressure crashed down upon Whispering Blade’s mind, forcing him to his knees. His body trembled as he fought against the overwhelming authority, but there was no escape. Static Void had already seized control of the space around him, pinning him in place.

And then another one of Arthur’s cores shattered.

He didn’t even flinch.

This time, his attack did not miss.

Chains of Destruction erupted from his hands, lashing around the Saint’s arms and binding them in place. Arthur could not see his opponent’s face, but he would have sworn that, beneath the blood covering it, Whispering Blade wore an expression of utter terror.

Arthur grinned.

“Weak,” he muttered.

Destruction surged forward like an avalanche.

Amethyst flames swallowed the Saint of Valor, engulfing his invisible form in a torrent of ruin, casting an eerie glow across the ruined battlefield.

All his runes deactivated the next instant, shutting off the euphoria of sensations in his mind—and strangely… his body didn’t hurt the way he thought it would.

Arthur watched the flames for a moment before turning away.

There was no satisfaction in his golden eyes. No relief, either. The death of one man could not undo what had already been done, nor could it fill the gaping hole that had been torn into his life.

But at least he had done something.

[You have slain a Transcendent human, Whispering Blade.]

[You have received…]

“Arthur…”

Sylvie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He turned to look at her. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Arthur noticed the hesitation in hers.

“What is it?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Perhaps she was searching for something familiar in his expression. Perhaps she had found it and simply didn’t know what to make of it.

Arthur tilted his head slightly.

“Is something wrong?”

The question was genuine. He really couldn’t understand what had prompted her reaction.

After all, wasn’t this what she had wanted? For him to survive?

Arthur had heard what Jet asked Sylvie before she joined the fight, asking her to protect him. And in a sense, she had. Though the final blow was his.

‘I said I’d kill him with my own hands… well, it wasn’t exactly my hands that killed him. Still counts.’

Arthur almost chuckled at the thought. Almost.

His gaze drifted toward the battlefield, where Sunny and Jet were lying on the ground, completely drained. Regis was returning to his core with the little energy he had left.

He glanced at Sylvie who was still watching him.

“What?”

Sylvie hesitated.

“Arthur… are you alright?”

He considered the question for a moment.

Was he?

His body was in terrible condition. His essence reserves were practically nonexistent, not a drop running through his body, and the destruction of two cores had left him with a problem he would have to deal with sooner or later.

And yet he felt strangely calm.

There was no overwhelming grief threatening to drown him, no desperate urge to tear the world apart with his bare hands. The anger was still there, buried somewhere deep within him, but it no longer felt like something that controlled his every thought.

Instead, there was a peculiar sense of clarity.

“I am fine.”

Sylvie’s expression didn’t change. But he couldn’t blame her, even he wasn’t entirely convinced by his answer.

After a brief silence, she approached him.

Arthur watched her come closer, noticing the way her gaze occasionally drifted toward the spot where Madoc had disappeared. The flames had vanished, leaving nothing behind.

Sylvie approached and stopped in front of him for a few seconds, hesitating whether to say it. Finally, she mentioned it when she looked in the other direction.

“We need to dig a grave for your father.”

Arthur was about to nod, but at that moment, two things made themselves felt… one in his soul, and one in the outside world.

The first was an intense call from the map Grey had left him—a call in a sweet sense. Like an affectionate call for attention.

Arthur understood clearly what it meant. Since his connection with the map had amplified, he could identify the messages clearly… Still, time didn’t give him a chance to do so.

The latter… wasn’t so friendly.

Casting his gaze toward the sky, everyone present felt a chill run through their bodies.

There didn’t seem to be anything there.

…Except for a strange, rippling darkness.

For a few moments, the battlefield seemed to grow still.

And then the sky crumbled and split apart, devoured by an abyssal rift that seemed to lead to the very depths of hell.

A gargantuan Nightmare Gate tore the world into pieces, dwarfing the battlefield as it cut through the sky and manifested itself into existence.

‘Not even a moment of peace…’

He sighed.

Hey! Another chapter here, and yet another one that gave me a pretty hard time, but I managed to push through and get it done through sheer willpower hehe.

Honestly, I’m not satisfied with the chapter overall, nor with the fight itself. Still, I think this chapter marks a turning point in Arthur’s personality and how he’ll act from now on.

If the fight seemed too easy and didn’t have many consequences, that’s mostly on me for not knowing how to write fights properly hehe. I’m trying to improve, but it’s proving to be quite a challenge.

Speaking of fights, poor Arthur went from fighting the Winter Beast to facing a Saint, and now a Nightmare Gate opens right in front of him! What else could possibly happen to him?! And we don’t even know what rank the Gate is yet…

Well, I guess we’ll find that out in the next chapter, which I’ll try to get out soon!

Before I go, I want to recommend a manhwa I read recently and absolutely loved: The Spark in Your Eyes. It’s a romance set in a medieval world, and it has a LOT of angst!

See you in the next chapter, take care!