Chapter 239: Light That Wants to Protect the Dark

Promethius was not just a hero—he was the hero.

The stories often go like this: In a time when monsters walked freely, when kingdoms fell and the gods remained silent, he was the lone figure who stood against the darkness. One man, holding back a world's worth of despair. The name alone brought comfort. Reverence. Hope.

His existence itself led to the creation of "Moonlight Brings Hope", the song Oracle Angelica sings to the masses to raise morale. The moonlight is the light in the darkness, for it can only fight the shadows but not completely erase them, thereby turning night into day.

Children read his deeds in books. Soldiers whispered his name before battle. Entire nations credited him for the era of peace that followed. His existence alone gathered people under the religion that worshiped Melis.

But peace has a way of breeding complacency.

Now, with chaos stirring again, the continent desperately needs another Promethius. Someone to believe in. Someone to carry the burden of that legacy.

And with the declaration of a new hero, the people in this auditorium thought they had found him in Arthur.

A new Promethius to shoulder their fears, lead the charge, and preserve the fragile peace left behind by the last legend.

But a wedge formed the moment doubt was cast—when they were told that this so-called hero might be the very person to endanger them all, acting under the delusion that his every decision was righteous. Unable to weigh the value of life. In reality, he didn't know what being a hero means—so he is a fool with too much power yet attempts to fill a gargantuan legacy.

Does this mean he can't understand what the greater good is? Or worse—does he think he alone defines it?

The weight of a title like "Hero" is not in power or prestige, but in the ability to bear responsibility without losing sight of those one is meant to protect. If Arthur had already failed that test in the dungeon, what disasters might he invite upon the world next?

Now, the auditorium sat not in celebration, but in unease—grappling with a question no one dared ask aloud:

Did they just place their hope in the wrong man? Should they not be shameful even if that hope lasted a mere second?

-

"I'm surprised this was kept secret for so long." He shook his head exaggeratedly, "Show them your power, Luke."

"B-But it's too chaotic! F-Father said I should only bring it out once I'm certain I can control it…!" Luke's voice cracked as he tried to explain.

'I don't want to hurt him again…'

"If it becomes too chaotic, I'll stop it."

"But last time—"

"I'm not the same as back then. Release all your power."

"Big brother…" the boy's eyes sparkled in an unknowing light then he pumped his fists, not the least bit hesitant to prove himself.

Or maybe it's because Arnold was here that he could prove himself?

Or perhaps he was just excited to show how far he's come since that "incident" back then?

Regardless, he wanted nothing more in the world than to show his big brother how much his training had paid off.

Luke loosened Flora's sword at his waist, not drawing it from the sheath. The moment he held the sword, a mysterious void curled around his fingertips, as if begging for his energy to feed it.

And that he did—

Golden energy began to flicker around the sword, dancing like starlight across the floor before spiraling up around his body. The auditorium gasped as golden aura twisted upward in majestic waves, forming arcs in the air.

His aura flared, the golden light turning white-hot at the edges. Wind surged outward from his body, rustling clothes, shaking the banners, sending the overhead lights swinging slightly.

All sounds vanished when he unleashed all his power

Luke hesitantly opened his eyes, fearing even the sword could not handle his golden aura.

But when he opened them, he saw the sharp golden eyes of his brother.

Though his energy was immense and powerful, Arnold's energy was on another level—a level Luke wasn't even aware of until now.

Jealousy wasn't what burned in his heart but desire… Desire to become as powerful as Arnold one day.

Luke had already forgotten about the audience, instead focusing on the empty stare Arnold was giving him. His face was anything but gentle—but to Luke, being watched by those eyes felt like a blessing, like a knight being acknowledged by the god he served.

A warmth rushed to his face that had nothing to do with aura.

Why did that cold stare make him feel… proud? Would even mild disgust devastate Luke? Why does he think about this deeply…?

"I-I did it." Luke whispered, barely audible, unable to look in his big brother's eyes again.

Then reality set in and he made eye-contact with the audience.

Their faces were frozen.

Mouths parted. Eyes widened. The tension that had lingered like a fog—ever since the doubts about Arthur—was swept away by sheer awe.

A golden aura.

A divine wave of energy never seen before in hundreds of years. The kind written in books, spoken of in bedtime stories, painted in old murals as the mark of Promethius himself as he rode atop the White Dragon Lord.

The room fell utterly silent, save for the hum of power still clinging to the air.

Were it not for the sword, releasing this much power would've destroyed this building and injured many. Luke was right to heed Flora's advice to just let the sword handle the power since it can force out one's energy.

Some students stood without realizing it, drawn forward as if witnessing history. They lifted their arms, meaning to touch the glowing power. Professors, once skeptical, leaned back in stunned silence. Parents pressed hands over their mouths, unsure whether to cheer or kneel.

"He… has it," someone whispered from the back.

"The aura… of gods…"

"Magnificent…"

"I-It's like I'm looking at God itself…!"

In that moment, Arthur was forgotten.

The crowd had eyes only for Luke.

And Luke—still breathing heavily, cheeks flushed—looked down at his hands, golden light retreating from his fingertips.

He didn't hear the gasps, didn't see the reverence washing over the hall.

All he cared about…

Was whether Arnold had smiled.

But when he turned, Arnold's face hadn't changed.

Still calm. Still unreadable.

Satisfied, perhaps. Impressed, maybe.

But not proud. Not happy.

Not smiling.

Luke's chest sank. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

The warmth that had surged through him vanished, replaced with a cold, gnawing silence.

Had he done something wrong?

Did it still not measure up?

His fingers curled into trembling fists at his sides.

And for all the glory now being whispered about him, all Luke could feel was… small.

The admiration of thousands meant nothing if the one person he wanted to impress remained unmoved.

In that way, was Luke really so different from Arthur?

Perhaps not in longing—but definitely in intent.

Luke sought recognition from one person alone. But unlike Arthur, he would never gamble innocent lives for that validation. In war, the priority was to protect. Only after the chaos ended—after peace was won—would he allow himself the luxury of seeking "that" person's approval.

That would be enough.

A strong hand landed on his shoulder. Arnold's.

Instead of addressing the crowd, Arnold spoke softly into Luke's ear:

"They're waiting for you. Two heroes would be a blessing to this world… if only one of them wasn't a fool who thinks he alone can define justice. You and Arthur can't coexist—not like this. So be the one to draw the line. Sever what needs to be severed. These simple humans will flock to the stronger side—you."

Luke's heart pounded as all eyes remained fixed on him. The golden aura around him flickered softly, but inside, he felt small—like a kid pretending to be something he wasn't.

He was never relied on to this extent. But he had always protected Norn and her mother in the village as well as the children who he befriended.

He swallowed hard, voice barely steady since this is the first time he raised his voice so much, always timid and trying to remain small before this day. "I… I'm not good at speeches so I can't really say much.... I don't have grand words or stories to tell to make you believe what I'm about to say..."

Everyone waited for him to continue. Maybe they saw his confidence or maybe the energy being released from his body, from the sword, was enough to silence him.

"But I want to be a hero. Not just because of the power, or the glory. Because this world… Even if we are in peaceful times with no common enemy behind our backs, this world needs someone who can protect the people so that it can be prepared for whatever enemy we face."

He glanced toward Arnold, who didn't say a word, but his steady presence gave Luke strength. He wanted to hold Arnold's hand for support but never followed through with it.

"I want to be better than those before me. Not just Promethius, but all the others who people called heroes! I will be better than anyone who ever let fear or pride get in the way of saving others. I will not be someone who thinks my view of justice is gospel or be blinded by love in times of crisis where lives are in danger."

He took a deep breath, then faced the crowd with a more determined expression.

"I promise I'll be the kind of hero this world needs—!" he said at the top of his lungs, "You will not need anyone else to protect you—only me."

For a long moment, the auditorium was silent — the weight of Luke's words hanging in the air. Then, a few hesitant claps broke out, gentle and uncertain at first.

A professor exchanged a proud glance with a colleague. Parents leaned forward in their seats, smiles softening their worried expressions.

A few girls who used to tease him a lot last year looked at him with warm eyes as if their perception of him had changed entirely.

He also had his fair share of bullies who awkwardly looked away.

The clapping grew, spreading like wildfire. Soon, the entire room was applauding — not the thunderous cheers reserved for polished heroes, but the sincere, encouraging kind that only comes from seeing raw, genuine hope.

Some eyes glistened with quiet emotion, touched by the boy's vulnerability and determination.

Even the most skeptical faces softened, their doubts momentarily set aside by Luke's earnest promise.

And though Arnold still watched quietly, his steady gaze held a flicker of something unspoken — approval.

Luke's cheeks flushed as the applause washed over him. But he had a smile on his face despite his embarrassment. He wasn't happy over the admiration that could be felt in the air—he was happy that despite not even knowing him, they were ready to place their hopes in him.

◊◊

The moment the applause died down, the vice principal came onto the stage. Tapping the prism, he cleared his throat: "Ahem… We did not expect something outside our schedule to happen so there will be a short five-minute break before we continue. I know we are excited about the unveiling of the next hero but please save your questions for after this meeting."

With that, the lights on the podium dimmed and the professors quickly departed from their seats to hold a short emergency board meeting.

Someone must immediately go inform the emperor of what just occurred. Of course, the Vice Principal was the one to go. One could hear his horses neigh as he left the academy grounds.

◊◊

"What did you want to talk about?" Arnold addressed Luke who asked if the two could talk privately. It wasn't something that could wait apparently.

Nearby were a swarm of students, most likely here to see Luke but were too hesitant to approach seeing Arnold here. He chose to ignore them.

Luke had a frown on his face, a first for someone like him.

"Is it true…? That Arthur killed you…?"

'He's not addressing Arthur respectfully, huh?'

"Yeah, this isn't my actual body. Just a homunculus whose body was enhanced with some cultivation pill."

"…." Luke's frown deepened but Arnold didn't notice that as he was checking out Luke's stats.

…It seems Luke had been quite busy with training. His stats were way higher than the average second year student. He wasn't even level 20 yet by the way. Like with Arnold's demon lord state, there were numbers between brackets that multiplied Luke's power hundredth fold. This is most likely his stats when using Golden Aura.

"…Big brother, you said I am the true hero and that Arthur is a nuisance—doesn't that mean Arthur isn't needed? I'm good enough, right? We should get rid of him, right?"

Hearing that coming from Luke's mouth made even Arnold's eyes widened.

"…Like I said, two heroes aren't necessary but it gives humanity a greater advantage over the demons."

"But what he did to you—!"

"He won't be the other Hero, Luke."

After all, the Destined Child—child of Guinevere and Promethius—still roams these lands and was closer than one might think…

"Then does that mean…?"

Arnold nodded, "Arthur needs to be disposed of before he becomes an obstacle. Usually, I wouldn't care if some brainless idiot with too much power runs around—" even if he didn't kill Arnold, there was still a reason to get rid of him, "—His actions can affect everyone, including myself in the future."

"I… I'll k--!" Luke was about to say something but several people suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"Arnold, can we talk?" the one who called out was Castacia. Behind her were some of the seventh-year students along with the other professors who were with them in the dungeon.

"What is it, Castacia?" he said in annoyance, "Feeling sorry for me after you watched me die a dog's death?"

He stepped closer to Castacia but was stopped by the tigerkin Hofir.

"You're annoying." He glared up at Hofir. Hofir met his glare but it was obvious by his sweating face that he could tell Arnold was leagues above him in strength. He could probably not even see how high Arnold's current ceiling was.

Still, it was commendable that he was trying to protect his teacher despite knowing he's outmatched. Arnold could hear the stupid peanut gallery girls shout how brave Hofir was.

Relaxing his posture, he beckoned for Castacia to continue.

"An apology could never change what happened or heal the pain in your heart. I… I was foolish to believe Arthur's words when he said it was the right thing to do…"

"That's his perceived viewpoint of the world. The fact that you believed him instantly is what makes him dangerous." He replied, making all of them bite their lips.

They should know he's speaking the truth.

This is precisely why he can't keep that power.

"Arnold," she suddenly grabbed his hand, "Please do not go through with your revenge. Revenge solves nothing. I know you can do it… Everything about you is different from the last time we met but…You will be punching a pillow for the rest of your life, unable to release that frustration once the deed is done. What happens when this fist," Castacia held his hand up to her face, "—hits us instead?"

"Unlike your pretend Hero, I am not easily overcome by emotion." He didn't pull his hand away immediately because what she said resonated deep within him, leaving him frozen like a statue.

"Not all villains do what they do because of emotion, Arnold. Ambition, greed—these two things are colder than hatred, more calculated than rage. And when one loses all morality, every obstacle in your path vanishes all because you chose to swing your blade and behead your enemy instead of forgiving them for their crimes. I don't mean you should forgive him on my word. Speak to him, listen to what went through his head when your hand… pierced Madilith's heart. Anyone can lose themselves to rage when something you care about is hurt or taken from you. It can be a lover, a family member, a pet or a parting gift from someone important. Most of the time this opens the path to revenge, a lonely path that can lead to that person's demise in the end."

"Castacia…"

"I know what you want to say. I don't forgive him either. You are a precious student of mine and even I hated Arthur. But in the end, I learned to understand his actions because I knew what kind of person he was. But that doesn't change the fact that I care about you. I cried for you when we lost you, just as much as I cried for the others."

"If you know what kind of person he is, why are you still acting like the mediator? Shouldn't you know which side is in the right? Arthur is a fool with too much power."

A heavy silence settled between them.

"I cannot give you a clear answer because I care about both of you." She averted her eyes, unable to face him.

"But please… I'm begging you, Arnold. Please… don't prove everyone right about you. Don't let them see a monster they rumored you to be when you could be more."

She spoke with a smaller voice, repeating the same line as before, "What if… those claws turn on everyone else?"

"—If there is nowhere else for Big Brother to release his frustration then he can do it with me!" Luke stepped in, grabbing Arnold's hand.

"W-What?"

"Part of a hero's duties is making sure his comrades never bear the weight alone," Luke declared, voice trembling, but his back straight and small hand tightly grasping Arnold's larger hand.

"If he ever wants to shout, or punch something, or cry—even if it's ugly—I'll be there for him!" His voice cracked near the end, but he clenched his fists tighter, his golden aura faintly flickering to life around his fingertips.

Castacia looked stunned, as if she wasn't expecting Luke of all people to side with the guy who said he's going to kill Arthur.

Arnold stared at Luke for a long second.

This kid was serious about this.

Luke stared up at Arnold with a big grin and pumped fist.

Castacia stepped back slowly, her hands finally falling away from Arnold's. "…" she was unsure of what to say to the unity that she just witnessed.

Luke didn't say "I'll both of them" but instead "I'll be there for Arnold!". That alone showed his support.

How would the others take this—the hero supporting another person's murder?

Arnold exhaled. The tension in his shoulders eased. He placed a hand on Luke's head, ruffling his hair, before speaking with a hint of dry amusement.

"You're really bad at offering yourself as a punching bag. If I really went all out, you wouldn't survive."

"That doesn't matter! I'll train harder!"

'Grow up to be a strong boy, Lukie!' Ceru suddenly appeared and cheered him on while flying around him.

"…" Arnold sighed as he scratched his head. He then looked back at Castacia again.

"I'm still going through with this whether you like it or not, Castacia."

With even Luke supporting his decision, no one else mattered. This is because Luke would naturally be the biggest obstacle in his way. Arthur is, after all, the other Hero. Isn't it obvious that one hero should support the other.

"I have an idea." He smiled mockingly, "Why don't we make it a grand event? The entire continent of Diacree can come see our fight to the death. All of you can come cheer him on. I'm sure his little sister being there will give him a little boost of power if the divine titans are useless."

"T-That's…" Castacia and the others glanced at Luke to see what his reaction was to this. But he was… staring up at Arnold with a smile?

Arnold's tone suddenly lowered as a shadow loomed over his face, making his golden eyes glow, "Whether you come or not, Arthur will die by my hand."

After he was done, he walked past Castacia. Luke quickly followed and Ceru floated lazily through the air, her breasts swaying from side to side.

Arnold made eye contact with Sabrina in that moment. Her mouth was open and hand raised, as if she wanted to call out and grab him but was unable to do so when she saw his expression.

He continued walking. He could feel all their gazes on him but barely acknowledged their presences.

So, this is what it feels like to be so powerful that nothing can stand in his way.

And with his knowledge, he could make even the Gods submit.

For a moment, he envisioned the whole of the nine realms kneeling to him.

Of course, he considered the possibility of other players doing the exact same thing.

But it quickly vanished as he remembered his schedule for the day.