The afternoon slowly faded, painting the clearing in copper tones as the carriage came to a stop.
Arthur took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill his lungs.
His body felt noticeably better thanks to the constant circulation of Touki he had maintained throughout the trip. After awakening it unconsciously, he decided to practice it. Yesterday's battle, even though I won, was a bit of a mess. I survived by luck and panic. I wanted to rest, but if I stay like this, my skills will rust, and I won't be able to defend myself from someone stronger.
He stepped down from the carriage, and Aisha followed him immediately.
What will you teach me today? she asked.
hmm… how about Chantless Casting? You already handle the Water Ball spell well. Now try using it with the same feeling—but without speaking.
Aisha analyzed his words, stepped back a little, and began practicing.
Training days began, taking advantage of every break from the tedious confinement of the carriage.
First came sword training. He repeated the high-speed exercises he once taught to Ruben, and although the Great Sage corrected every mistake in his mind, Arthur focused on feeling every adjustment, engraving the perfect movement into his muscle memory.
After fighting the bandit, the skill had analyzed the weaknesses in his Sword God Style, comparing them to the adaptable style used by his opponent.
Arthur closed his eyes and posed the solution to his mental assistant:
"Great Sage, I possess knowledge of the Sword God Style and fragments of the North God Style. What if you combine them? Is it possible to create a new style?"
"Feasibility analysis: 99%. Fusing the concept of 'absolute speed' with the 'adaptive and defensive versatility' of the North God results in a tactically superior style for real combat. The slowness of the North God Style is removed, and the fragility of the Sword God Style is mitigated."
"Calculating nomenclature based on function and efficiency."
"Analysis complete. Skill [Sword Style of Judgment] Basic Level, acquired."
All of that knowledge flowed into his mind. Arthur took a deep breath, adjusted his stance—one that blended the Sword God's aggression with the low, adaptable guard of the North God.
Then he moved.
He launched a fast slash—but instead of ending it at a fixed point, he immediately twisted his body, attempting a North God feint to set up a low counterattack.
The Great Sage intervened instantly. "Transition error. Delay of 0.09 seconds when changing guards, compromising the disarm attempt. Shift weight 2 cm forward."
Arthur grunted and repeated the sequence over and over, engraving the perfect movements into his body.
Meanwhile, a few meters away, Aisha continued her magic practice.
She tried to perform chantless casting using the most basic spell she knew: Water Ball. She frowned, the effort visible. Her mana gathered, but when she tried to force the spell to manifest, the sphere burst into a useless puff of steam.
Arthur, still practicing, gave her the only correction she needed.
Aisha, don't force your mana. Visualize the shape before moving the energy. If the image is perfect, the mana will follow.
After dozens of failed attempts, and with Arthur's guidance, Aisha finally succeeded: a small and stable sphere of water materialized in her hand without a single word. Her face lit up with pride.
When night came, Arthur trained magic—the kind that only required the mind.
Using the spells he had learned from Rudeus in Shirone as a base (Advanced Elemental Magic), Arthur dedicated himself to creating derivative spells, using the Great Sage as a laboratory of ideas.
"Great Sage, I need a defensive spell that doesn't rely on a large shield. Something fast and with low mana consumption."
"Analyzing formulas of Advanced Earth and Wind Magic. Viable derivation: (Zero Mantle)."
Zero Mantle was an emergency defense spell. Instead of creating a wall of earth, Arthur learned to spread a thin layer of hyper-compressed air over his skin, capable of deflecting knives and reducing the impact of projectiles. It activated with a thought and consumed very little mana.
After learning and practicing it properly, he went to rest.
Aisha, who had watched Arthur's constant effort to improve, decided to practice more as well, silently promising to help him however she could.
The days continued like this: sword training, refining Touki, and endless study and practice of magic.
Arthur's progress became clear one evening as the carriage moved through a narrow path flanked by dense trees. Without warning, ten figures armed with swords and axes burst from the underbrush, blocking the road.
Stop right there! Hand over your goods and no one gets hurt! shouted the leader—a broad man with battle scars.
Ginger and the other guards reacted instantly, drawing their swords and forming a defensive line around Lilia and Aisha.
Arthur, however, stepped forward.
The bandits laughed. —A kid wants to play hero?
Move aside. I don't want to kill you.
"What's this brat saying? Boy, you're confused. This is our territory—we do whatever we want here."
"Aaah.. —Arthur sighed. "I warned you. I'll try not to kill all of you."
Besides, I wanted to test the Sword Style of Judgment in real combat.
The leader frowned and smirked. "Go on then, boy. I'll give you the honor of being first. Get him!"
Three bandits rushed forward, bloodthirsty. Arthur moved.
His first strike was a silent slash that vanished and reappeared—severing the central bandit's arm before he even raised his axe.
But instead of following through with pure speed, Arthur twisted, performing a North God feint that tricked the second bandit into lunging into empty space.
Arthur's spin carried him behind the man. A sharp strike with the pommel to the neck, and the man collapsed unconscious.
The third bandit hesitated for a moment—that was his mistake. Arthur was already on top of him, kicking his knee and throwing him off balance. Before he hit the ground, Arthur's blade was already at his throat.
The clearing fell silent. Three bandits neutralized in seconds—and Arthur didn't take a single hit.
The leader snarled. "Damn brat! The rest of you—ALL IN! KILL HIM!"
The remaining seven charged, closing in. This time, Arthur couldn't afford to hold back. His body moved at extreme speed.
A bandit swung a wide slash. Arthur sidestepped so quickly he seemed to disappear. His blade flashed, and the man's arm flew through the air. Without stopping, Arthur pivoted, using the momentum to block and deflect a spear from his flank, then impaled the spearman with it.
The bandits, despite their numbers, were overwhelmed. Their attacks were predictable, their defenses meaningless. Arthur cut, stabbed, and disarmed them. In less than a minute, the clearing was covered with bodies—immobilized, severely injured, or dead.
The leader was left alone, trembling, his sword pointed uselessly at Arthur, who approached slowly.
"What are you waiting for? Will you just stand there?" Arthur's words froze the bandit's blood.
Arthur sighed. "Alright."
The bandit brightened briefly. But before the relief could take form, Arthur moved—a blinding motion—cutting off both of the man's arms at the shoulders. Blood burst out like fountains.
"This way, you won't hurt anyone else," Arthur said in a flat, emotionless tone, watching the leader scream before fainting.
He flicked his sword to clean it, then sheathed it. "Looks like meditation helped. I don't feel as nauseous anymore."
Then he approached the unconscious leader and the surviving bandits. He used Healing Magic to cauterize their wounds and seal their stumps—not to heal them, but to prevent any healer from reattaching the limbs.
He left the maimed bandits tied up. Arthur closed his eyes and focused his mana, guided by the Great Sage. Using Advanced Earth Magic, he manipulated the ground and nearby rocks to create a rudimentary but solid wheel-less stone carriage—a simple transport platform with ropes.
He brushed off his hands. —This should do.
Are we taking them with us? —Aisha asked, now freed, approaching curiously.
Arthur nodded, his expression unusually serious. "You know… death would've been too kind for them. I want them to live with the consequences of their actions." A sad smile crossed his lips.
Besides, I don't like killing. If I have no choice… I'll do it, he thought.
The girl, despite everything, didn't judge him. "Arthur, you really do seem like a hero." She smiled.
"Wh-what? Don't say that, Aisha, —Arthur said, visibly embarrassed. The label of "hero" felt ridiculous considering what he had done.
The guards and Lilia simply smiled and continued the journey. Arthur stood next to the stone platform. To move it, he asked the Great Sage for another spell.
"Great Sage, I need a Wind Magic derivative that pushes this platform at the same constant speed as the main carriage."
"Derivation complete. Skill [Geosynchronous Impulse] Basic Level, acquired."
Using the new spell, the stone platform hovered slightly above the ground and slid forward effortlessly, matching the carriage's pace. Aisha watched through the window, impressed.
The rest of the trip went smoothly until they reached the port. There, they disposed of the bandits, leaving them tied up in a nearby town for the local guards to handle.
Once aboard the ship, Arthur's luck changed drastically. The vessel sailed smoothly, yet he was slumped over the railing, feeling nauseous from the constant sway of the waves.
Aisha, her hair fluttering in the wind, rubbed his back with worry.
—This is the worst feel— Uuuaagh!
Before he could finish the sentence, the ship lurched sharply, worsening his nausea.
—Don't worry, Arthur. I'm already using Purification Magic —Aisha said, trying to heal him.
"That won't work. If it didn't help Eris in the original timeline, there's no reason it would now… These damned waves…"
—Thank you… it seems you're not getting sick at a— Uuuaagh!
—Now that you mention it, it's true. But I don't know why —Aisha reflected, still massaging him.
—I can't take this anymore!
Arthur collapsed to the floor, dizzy.
—This must be my punishment…
—Arthur!
Panicked—and unintentionally comedic—Aisha called for help, and the crew carried him to a room.
The blond boy spent nearly the whole voyage bedridden. The constant suffering had clouded his judgment. As they neared land, Arthur—desperate—remembered his mental assistant.
—Great Sage! Create a spell that neutralizes seasickness! Now!
"Analyzing kinetosis. Derivation of Intermediate Stabilizing Magic completed."
Arthur used the spell immediately, channeling mana through his body and releasing a subtle wave that realigned his sense of balance.
The effect was instant and absolute. The crushing nausea evaporated. He stood up, feeling completely renewed, as if he had never been sick at all.
Aisha and Lilia, nearby, were startled when he suddenly rose from bed.
—Are you feeling better now, Arthur? —Lilia asked.
—Yes, haha… —Arthur scratched the back of his head with embarrassment—. Thank you for your patience and care. I really appreciate it.
He bowed politely.
—Don't worry, it was the least we could do —Lilia replied with a breath of relief.
—But I think you owe me a reward —Aisha said, walking up with her hands on her hips, pretending to be demanding.
Arthur understood the joke. A genuine smile appeared on his face. He leaned down and gently patted Aisha's head.
Aisha beamed happily, satisfied with her reward.
Not long after, they disembarked, hopped onto another carriage, and continued the remaining journey.
---
While Arthur slept, the carriage approached an imposing defensive structure built to control the surrounding waters. Against the dark night sky, the gray stone fortress seemed to merge with the mountain itself.
Suddenly, a shout jolted him awake.
—Papa!
The carriage stopped abruptly. Arthur sat up and looked out the window, disoriented—only to witness a deeply emotional scene.
Standing before the great defensive structure, outlined by the dim torchlight, Paul Greyrat had just reached the carriage. The man, thin and covered in dust, had sprinted across the small stone bridge from the fortress's zig-zagging stairs, running with desperate determination.
Aisha had jumped off the carriage before it fully stopped, running straight toward him.
Paul crouched to receive her.
—Aisha! —he said, his voice breaking—months of anguish collapsing in that single moment. He hugged her tightly, checking her over as if afraid she might vanish.
Lilia approached slowly.
—It's been a long time, my lord —she said, holding back tears at the sight of Paul, weakened and exhausted.
Paul rose with Aisha in his arms, looking at her tenderly.
—Lilia.
He leaned in and hugged her with his free arm. Lilia let out a quiet sob against his shoulder.
—I'm so glad you're both safe —Paul said, finally allowing himself to breathe.
Arthur, awakened by Aisha's scream, watched silently from beside the guards handling the horses. He stayed apart—just an observer.
He couldn't help remembering the family from his previous life.
"Dad, Mom, my siblings… I hope you lived, or are living, a happy life."
He sighed, feeling the familiar sting of loneliness.
Near Paul, another figure approached: a blond girl, almost identical to him, searching for someone with her eyes.
—Papa… what about my mom?
—Is she still missing? That's what Master Rudeus told me, but I thought… —Lilia added quietly.
Paul knelt down, cupping the girl's cheek with a forced smile.
—Norn, your mother is waiting for your older brother. I'm sure they'll return together.
Norn nodded, trying hard not to cry.
Aisha suddenly realized someone was missing.
—Arthur?
She scanned the area and found him near the horses, talking with the guards to avoid interrupting.
The girl dashed toward him. Paul watched curiously as she ran off. When she reached him, she grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him back toward the family.
—H-hey, Aisha, wait, there's no need to rush…
—Papa! This is Arthur! —Aisha said proudly, still clinging to his arm—. He's the one who saved me and Mama!
Paul looked at Lilia for confirmation. She nodded, confirming the unbelievable truth.
Norn peeked timidly from behind Paul, also curious about the stranger.
A child? Paul wondered. The letter he'd received days earlier from Lilia had mentioned an Arthur, but he had imagined someone far older.
Seeing Aisha so attached and cheerful beside him, Paul felt a sudden bitter pang of loss.
Swallowing that complex emotion, he stepped forward and extended his hand with seriousness.
—Arthur, right? My name is Paul Greyrat. Thank you for saving them. I truly appreciate it.
—I only… did what I could, Paul. I'm glad they're safe.
—You're awfully polite for a swordsman —Paul chuckled softly, easing the mood—. Just call me Paul.
—Alright —Arthur replied with a small smile.
Then he noticed the blond girl beside Paul, staring at him while holding her father's hand.
Arthur greeted her kindly.
—Hello. My name is Arthur.
Norn didn't move, but her green eyes met his for a moment.
—Norn… —she whispered—barely audible, but clear. Her gaze then drifted away from his face and landed on the sword at his waist, saying nothing more.
end of chapter