"Good choice, Arthur."
Before he could even swear to Yltar, Arthur found himself back in the world. Thinking for a moment, he realized something.
Perished? But he can't interfere with this world… Oh, wait. I'm not from this world. But can't he just destroy Kiliar's soul, then?
"Ah, fuck. That damn cat has some explaining to do."
Still, he had no idea what to do next. But one thing was certain—somewhere in this world, Kiliar was here.
"Alright, first, I need to assess my condition."
Arthur's magic power was simple—Nul—the ability to nullify any attack. However, in his current state, he was back to his strength at fifteen. At his peak, he could use Nul indefinitely, but now, he could only maintain it for ten minutes.
"Nul is still here… but my mana state is the worst it's ever been."
Nul required an enormous mana and a vast reserve of aura. Right now, both were severely lacking.
Arthur sat down, crossing his legs, and began to meditate. He needed to absorb mana. At fifteen, he was at his weakest, yet somehow, he had still defeated Thorn. How? Was something helping me back then?
Creating a mana ring required deep focus. He took a slow breath, concentrating on drawing in mana from the world around him. Mana was everywhere, but it was scattered and minuscule, making it difficult to absorb. That's why most warriors extracted mana from dead beasts, animals, or even humans.
"The mana here… it's enough to let me use Nul for now."
Arthur exhaled, steadying himself, and stood up.
"But that's not enough. I need to create a mana ring—and fast."
He formed a sword aura from his hand, but it barely lasted twenty seconds before fizzling out.
"Fuck."
With a sigh, he glanced around and grabbed a stick off the ground.
"Guess this'll have to do. With the little aura I've got left, maybe I can still kill something."
He gave the stick a few test swings, then covered it in aura, watching as the energy flickered around it.
As Arthur flipped the stick in the air, a scream for help caught his attention.
"Hm?"
He turned toward the source and spotted a middle-aged man in fancy clothing, running for his life. Four men armed with swords were chasing him.
"Come back here!" one of them shouted.
"Help! Somebody, help!" the man cried out.
Huh? What's this guy doing? He's not being chased by debt collectors or something, right?
"Kid! Help me!" the man yelled, desperation in his eyes.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. Is this guy nuts? Asking a fifteen-year-old for help? He smirked. Well, I guess I can squeeze some money out of him later.
"Rakel! Get him!" one of the pursuers barked.
A man in a cloak, wielding a longsword in each hand, dashed forward. The moment he got into position to strike, ready to behead the man—
Arthur stepped in, blocking the sword with nothing but his stick.
"Impossible! With a stick?!" Rakel exclaimed.
"Yeah, pretty crazy, huh?" Arthur grinned.
Without hesitation, he brought the stick down, smashing Rakel's head. Blood splattered across his face as the man collapsed. Without wasting a second, Arthur snatched up one of the fallen swords and made quick work of the remaining three, their heads rolling to the ground.
Now drenched in blood, Arthur turned to the trembling middle-aged man.
"Th-Thank you, kid…" the man stammered.
"You're welcome," Arthur replied with a smirk, his face still covered in blood.
"Wait, kid… did you just use aura?"
"Yeah. Why?"
The man's body stiffened. In this world, aura was something only nobles and knights could wield. He stared at Arthur, taking in his blonde hair and blue eyes. Is he a noble?
"Kid… are you a noble?"
"No."
his mind raced. How could a kid like him learn aura? Then it hit him—maybe his parents were aura users.
"Then… your parents must've been aura users, right?"
Arthur's expression didn't change. "Both died when I was born."
"Oh…" he muttered, unsure of what to say.
"So, Who are you, sir?"
"Ah… I'm a merchant. Name's Leclerc," the man said, still catching his breath.
As he stood up, he dusted off his fancy clothes, shaking off the dirt.
"They attacked my carriage… they were after an artifact I was transporting."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "And why were you running here?"
"I was the distraction," Leclerc admitted. "The artifact is with my daughter—she's probably on her way to the city by now."
Something about his answer felt off. Arthur frowned. "What kind of artifact?"
Leclerc hesitated. "I'm sorry, kid, but I can't tell you that."
Arthur scoffed. "Fine, whatever. But I did just save your life, didn't I?"
Leclerc blinked. "Uh… yes? Oh…"