Chapter 45 : Lessons in losing 3

Arthur returned to his dorm, deep in thought. It hadn't been Officer Reftia. Of course, she could have lied, but the way she had frozen when he mentioned it—that reaction had seemed too genuine.

'Either she's the world's greatest actor, or she really didn't know.'

But if it wasn't her, then who was it? Duleryon barely let Arthur out of his sight. Who else even knew about him? It didn't add up.

'Was there a spy in Fort Lanai?'

That was the only possibility that made sense. If an entire unit—or even just a few soldiers—had been transferred, he might have dismissed it as a routine reassignment.

But no. It had only been him.

The only way someone outside of Duleryon and Reftia could have known about Arthur specifically was if there was a spy. And if there was a spy, then they might also know who he really was.

The son of a Duke of the Empire.

 ...................

A figure moved like a shadow. No one noticed it, and those who did knew better than to interfere.

It was angry—angrier than it had been in a long time.

'That damn bastard meddled in my plans.'

The figure burst into an office few even had the jurisdiction to know existed.

"You," it growled.

A tall man sitting behind a desk calmly closed his laptop, dark eyes meeting the figure's glare without a hint of emotion.

"Yes?"

The figure strode forward, voice a low hiss. "We had a deal. He's mine."

The man leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "As we agreed."

"Then why did you interfere? Do you have any idea how much effort I put into getting close to him? The constant work, the risks I took? The time I spent?" It spat the words with venom.

"Now, thanks to you, I'm under suspicion. That boy may be many things, but a fool isn't one of them. He's going to assume betrayal."

The man smiled—a hollow expression, devoid of warmth. "I said he is yours. I never said he wouldn't be used. And he will be. Based on what you've told me, he presents some… unique opportunities."

The figure straightened, regaining its composure. "So, he's still mine?"

The man gave a slow nod. "Yes… though, as we discussed, that depends entirely on him."

The figure turned toward the door, its movements swift and precise. "You don't need to worry about that. He's mine to handle."

 ............….

Arthur meditated through the night. Sleep was impossible. After the long conversation with Officer Reftia, when he had moved on to his fights with Ace, she had helped him understand something. And he had to try it, there was no way he could just sleep.

He had finally achieved a breakthrough.

Focusing on his mana flow, he envisioned it coursing through his body like blood. Back when he had lived as Reshi, a doctor, he had studied anatomy in his first year.

'Who knew that would come in handy now?' He chuckled to himself.

He could picture his blood vessels clearly, every vein and artery mapped in his mind. And as he guided his mana through them, the process felt far more natural than ever before.

It seemed like only twenty minutes had passed. But when he opened his eyes, a glowing notification flickered before him.

[ MANA FLOW CONCEPT HAS BEEN ACTUALIZED. ]

MANA CONCEPT: BLOOD FLOW (S-Rank)

MANA-BASED SKILLS HAVE IMPROVED.

Arthur grinned. S-Rank.

When the original protagonist had first unlocked his concept, he had barely managed a B-Rank.

It didn't matter too much—mana concepts could always be improved—but for now, it gave Arthur an edge. His mana efficiency had skyrocketed, and with it, his output.

He almost felt giddy.

'Finally, some fucking progress.'

"Status."

NAME: ARTHUR GRAVEWALKER

AGE: 14 YEARS OLD

RACE: HUMAN

CLASS:

SPEARMAN: *LVL1 (Adept) (Imperial **[???]) (8.7%) LVL1 (Basic) (Falling Sun style) (12.0%)

MANA CONCEPT: BLOODFLOW S - RANK (lvl2 5.0%)

SKILLS:

Mana Boost (Lvl 4) (8.0%) Fireclaw (Lvl 2) (67%) Earthstep (Lv1) (33.0%)

AURA: LOCKED

BLESSINGS:

Hades' Will - Possession (Lvl1 3.0%) Sun's Concept - Regenerative Blood (Lvl2 5.0%)

AFFINITIES:

Blood (Locked)

Earth (Lvl1) (8%)

Fire (Lvl 2) (31%)

STATS: RANK E

Speed: E

Strength: E-

Agility: E

Stamina: E-

Intelligence: E+

Mana Capacity: E+

Charm: F+

[ Falling Sun Style (****) (LVL 1 – ?????) ]

First Move – Shooting Star (Lvl 1) Proficiency (30.0%)

Second Move ???

?????

Arthur's grin widened. E Rank, huh?

'Not bad for a minor villain, if I say so myself.'

With his improved mana efficiency, he could rely even more on his skills—and on the Falling Sun Style.

His gaze flickered to the Possession skill. For a moment, he hesitated.

Then he shook his head.

'No fucking way am I using that. Not unless I'm about to die.'

Last time, he had nearly lost himself.

He stood abruptly. His clothes were still from yesterday, but that didn't matter. Only one thing did.

Today, he was going to fight Ace again.

And this time, he was going to win.

 ............…..

Arthur strolled into the arena.

No—he sauntered, exuding confidence with every step as he hopped down, gripping his spear.

Once again, all eyes were on him.

Most of the spectators laughed, amused by his repeated, futile attempts. Many had placed bets—though fewer and fewer bothered wagering on Arthur anymore. It was becoming a waste of money.

To the soldiers, his fights had become a daily spectacle. A joke. A source of entertainment, like a comedy that never got old.

Ace hopped down as well, already expecting Arthur to call him out. But this time, his expression was different. His eyes sharpened, his stance tensed. His face taut. Last time Arthur had managed to land a hit.

Because there was something only Ace—and a few others had silently realised.

Arthur was getting stronger. Every day. Much stronger.

And today, he walked in with a confidence that was impossible to ignore.

Yet instead of starting the match, Arthur suddenly turned and leaped back into the stands, heading toward a bald brute of a man—the one who handled the betting.

"I want to make a bet," Arthur announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.

The man looked down at him, grinning. "Yeah?"

Arthur smirked. "I bet I'll win this time… and I want good odds."

For a moment, the bald man looked stunned. Then he threw his head back and laughed.

"How much?"

Arthur's grin widened. "I'll match anyone who bets against me."

The man raised a brow. "You sure you got the money for that?"

"You can take it out of my wages if I lose. But…" Arthur turned, hopping back down into the arena. Ace was watching him now—warily.

"It won't matter."

Arthur spun his spear once, planting his feet firmly on the ground.

"Because this time, I'm going to win."

 .........

Arthur steadied himself.

The crowd had swelled, buzzing with excitement as word of his bet spread. People jostled for a better view, eager to witness the latest chapter in what had become a daily spectacle.

Arthur tightened his grip on his spear.

'If only I could summon Ikaris… he mused wistfully.'

No time for regrets.

'Mana Surge.'

It was like waking up twice. His body tingled, his senses sharpening, his mind clearer than ever. Energy thrummed through him, setting every nerve alight.

From the stands, someone started a countdown.

"Three!"

'Earthstep.'

"Two!"

"One!"

Ace vanished.

But Arthur was already moving.

'Shooting Star.'

He blitzed forward, his body surging under the heightened effects of Mana Surge.

His spear struck the ground where he knew Ace wouldn't be. The impact rippled outward, the mana turning into a shockwave of fire.

Then he launched himself again, spewing Fireclaw in every direction his spear didn't cover.

It looked wild—reckless even. As if he were attacking thin air.

But Arthur didn't care how it looked.

If Ace couldn't get close, he'd have no choice but to reveal himself.

It was incredibly mana-consuming. But for once, Arthur had mana to spare.

A shift in the air.

Above.

Arthur reacted.

His spear lashed out midair, while a Fireclaw spread behind him, ensuring no blind spots just in case it was a feint.

Steel clashed against something invisible.

Arthur grinned.

'Fireclaw.'

This time, he poured in a quarter of his mana reserves.

Four massive arcs of searing fire erupted skyward. The flames wavered—distorted—where Ace's invisible body had to be.

'There you are.'

Arthur tensed, spear at the ready.

Shooting Star.

He launched himself like the rising sun, shooting into the air at the spot where the flame had seemed to brush against Ace's body.

His spear struck something solid. A groan of pain confirmed his hit.

Ace's body flickered into view, his invisibility shattering.

Arthur didn't hesitate. He grabbed Ace by the collar, his grip unyielding.

"It doesn't matter if you hop around in the air or go invisible," he growled. "You're mine."

Then he started pummeling him.

The arena's shield prevented cutting injuries—but blunt force? That was fair game.

Arthur's fists ached with satisfaction, paying back every bruise, every damn defeat he had suffered.

'Ahh, payback. What a wonderful mistress.'

The two of them crashed into the arena floor with a sickening impact.

Pain flared in Arthur's leg. A sharp snap.

He bit back the cry. His healing factor kicked in almost immediately, the pain dulling as his bones began to knit themselves back together.

Ace wasn't so lucky.

The man lay groaning, clutching his ribs—definitely broken from the force of Shooting Star.

Arthur dragged himself closer.

"You give up?"

Ace looked at him, his eyes still burning with determination.

Arthur growled and forced himself to his feet, standing tall to prove the fall hadn't crippled him. He was still ready to fight.

"Say it out loud so the arena shield deactivates. Then I can heal you."

Realization flickered across Ace's face. His jaw clenched. Then, hoarsely, he muttered:

"You win."

Arthur nodded.

That was a lie.

He knew from losing so many times, the mana barrier automatically deactivated once a challenger had received a certain level of damage. After all, it had been made to be a training ground.

He just wanted to make sure there were no complaints when he went to collect his winnings.

Snatching Ace's short sword, Arthur sliced a shallow cut across his palm. He held it over Ace's mouth.

Ace spluttered at first, startled to be drinking blood.

But when his wounds began knitting together, he stopped resisting.

Once both of them had recovered, Arthur helped him to his feet, his grin triumphant.

"I won."

For a moment, Ace looked frustrated. Angry, even.

Then his expression softened. The tension in his shoulders eased, giving way to something else—something tired, but content.

"Yeah." Ace exhaled. "Fair play, Arthur. You won."

"That was pretty good," called a voice—female, amused.

Arthur turned to see Officer Reftia and Lieutenant Frost hopping down into the arena.

He smiled. "It was, wasn't it?"

Frost strode forward, grinning. "Then again, dear boy, if you hadn't won with all that training, I'd have recommended early retirement."

"Training?" Ace frowned, glancing at Arthur.

Frost hummed, tapping his chin theatrically. "Then again… your looks might be more dangerous on the battlefield than your weapon."

Arthur tilted his head. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

Frost's grin widened.

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned to Reftia. "Bit better than when we were stuck in that dungeon, huh?"

She smiled. "So you finally learned mana efficiency. Good. Seems my help last night wasn't wasted."

"Yeah, I spent all night meditating, but I managed to do it."

"Nice to see you winning battles without going berserk."

Arthur clenched his jaw. "One time. I did that one time."

"And you almost got me killed."

"I healed you."

"And then you got yourself knocked out for a week."

Ace and Frost exchanged raised eyebrows.

"Well, well, well," Frost interjected, smirking. "It seems my two little henchmen already knew each other. Off having adventures without me, hmm?"

Arthur frowned. "Henchmen?"

"Did you not know?" Frost gestured toward Reftia with a flourish. "My dear Reftia is also a member of the Murder Squad. Though she's my junior."

Arthur forced himself to keep smiling. 'So Commander Scarlet had been right… They were sent to check if we were traitors or spies. And to kill us if we were.'

The rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and enduring Frost's relentless teasing—which, Arthur noted smugly, was much more bearable now that he had beaten Ace.

As he made his way back to the dorms, he was surprised to find Ace waiting outside. His expression was serious.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Hey, Ace. What's up?"

Ace took a deep breath. "Arthur."

"…Yeah?"

"Can I train with you?"

Arthur blinked. He hadn't expected that. Ace continued before he could respond.

"It's just… you improved so fast. I want to train too. I want to get stronger."

Arthur met his gaze—pure determination. The same look he had worn when he was the one constantly losing.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Sure. But tomorrow."

Ace frowned. "Why tomorrow?"

"Because I didn't sleep last night." Arthur stretched, his exhaustion catching up to him. "Tomorrow, we start together."

Ace nodded, clapping him on the shoulder before walking away.

Arthur smirked. 'Training, huh? That might actually be a good way to get close to the other soldiers.'

Then he stepped into his barracks—and froze.

Officer Reftia was lounging on his bed.

Her white hair spilled over his pillow, her body curled comfortably under his blanket.

Arthur's exhaustion was instantly replaced with irritation, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

She blinked up at him. "This is my barracks too."

"That's my bed."

"It was my bed first. Find another."

Arthur scowled. "This is a men's barracks."

She shook her head, unbothered. "It's co-ed. There's a female and male bathroom here."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I've been using the other one."

Reftia smiled smugly. "Well, now you'll have to share with Frost."

Arthur groaned. "Fine. Just give me my pillow."

She stared at him blankly.

His eye twitched.

"Hey," he said, more firmly. "Give me my fucking pillow you bed thief."