As the Wrath of the Dragon shot forth, the black dragon that had been rampaging in the sky retreated far back.
The damage was undeniable.
No matter how tough the dragon’s scales might be, what was just shot was the dragon’s breath, capable of erasing everything in its path. How could a dragon of a different species withstand that?
However, the visible damage to the dragon soon vanished.
The power of the Void. The strength of the evil god in the barrier healed the wound. Seeing this, Karia unconsciously furrowed her brow.
"How frustrating. This scroll was expensive and hard to obtain."
"Did you think the Judgment sent by the gods would fall to such petty tricks?!"
Seeing Karia's frustration, the Void Apostle laughed mockingly, but Karia calmly responded.
"Of course not. If it could be solved with something like this, I wouldn't even have come here."
"Try all you want to act nonchalant! In the end, everything will fall under the Void’s dominion!"
"Shut up, you fool. I can tell exactly what you're thinking without you shouting it, so could you please be quiet?"
Karia retorted effortlessly to the maniacal voice and pulled out another scroll.
If I can’t physically kill them, then I’ll buy some time. Given who I’m up against, I can’t last long, but it should be enough to confuse them.
When Karia tore the scroll, numerous chains shot out from the air, binding the dragon's limbs.
Chains made from the dragon’s blood and bones, infused with curses, wrapped around the dragon’s limbs.
The scroll seemed a little old, so the effect was somewhat lacking. It wouldn’t hold for long.
But it doesn’t matter. I still have plenty of scrolls left.
"Stop that woman!"
As Karia pulled out another scroll, the Void followers transformed into different forms and charged, but Uden blocked their path.
The Sword Saint's blade severed the legs of the followers, forcing them to stop.
"Do you think you can block us with just that?!"
Watching the attack being rendered useless, Uden raised an eyebrow.
It’s slower.
It’s definitely slower than before.
The power Luca had is weaker than it was.
Well, he is, after all, just a proxy for the evil god.
Without the god’s power, he can't do much.
But the bastard’s master is causing countless problems inside here right now.
He needs to empower those fighting near the cracks in the barrier.
He’s probably investing power in handling the dragon as well.
And he’s certainly sending energy to all the commotion happening all over the academy grounds.
But most of all, the massive power heading underground is a big issue.
There’s a crack forming.
The enormous power that was pouring out from the magic circle is now cracking.
What’s needed now is a slight variable.
Just a little bit more, and everything will collapse!
Shift to Arthur's Situation:
"What are you doing standing there?"
Arthur, holding his teacup, added more force to his gaze as he looked at his mother, who was smiling at him.
The child who called himself the fragment of the founder had referred to this place as a trial.
If that’s the case, then what is the trial supposed to test?
At that moment, as Arthur’s suspicion grew, something caught his eye below him.
A woman’s face, twisted in pain, dead.
A woman who died after vomiting up everything inside her. Her appearance was so horrifying that it was impossible to speak of it in any kind terms.
It was his mother when she died. His mother was there.
"Arthur?"
Hearing his mother call his name again, Arthur lifted his head to see another mother standing behind the one holding the teacup.
The mother who had been impaled by an arrow, her body mounted on a spear.
His mother never died like that. No. She had never even gone anywhere near dangerous weapons like a bow.
She had only ever been in the safest places.
So what is this?
After thinking for a moment, Arthur soon realized what the body was.
It was his nightmare.
More specifically, it was one of his nightmares.
Not long after his mother died, when Arthur couldn’t sleep more than an hour a day, he would dream of his mother dying in various ways.
Arthur noticed the presence on his shoulder before long.
He slowly turned his head, horrified to see the dried-up, shriveled hand of a woman.
As he stepped back, the mummy collapsed, and with a sickening crack, blood began to seep from the wound.
Following the smell, Arthur turned and discovered a body pinned to a tree, its blood dripping down.
"Can’t you hear me?"
As the endless cycle of death repeated before him, Arthur understood why the little child who called himself a fragment of the founder told him to endure.
Every time he saw a body, the feelings that little Arthur had experienced in his nightmares began to flood back.
Fear.
Guilt.
Sadness.
Despair.
Resignation.
Anger.
Longing.
Over and over.
Again and again.
It kept digging into his mind.
As the strength drained from his legs, Arthur fell to the ground, and the bodies that had been lying there reached out to grab his arm.
He could hear voices.
He could hear resentful words.
He could hear hatred for him. Under the accusation that his very birth was a sin, Arthur couldn’t respond.
The Arthur who used to be confident in front of his friends was no longer here. The one who stood firm despite being teased, the one who spoke his mind, was no longer here.
The Arthur here was simply the one who, after losing his mother, couldn’t find a reason to live and wished for death instead.
"Can’t you hear me?"
He raised both hands to cover his ears, just like when he used to cover himself with a blanket to block out the noises.
"Arthur. Our son. Are you alright?"
Despite the voice digging into his ears, Arthur couldn’t help but notice something odd and raised his head.
Among the countless corpses, his mother stood perfectly unharmed.
The one who first spoke to him, and now, despite the nightmare, stood looking at him with genuine concern.
She was the only one who remained unharmed in a world full of death.
In a place meant to break his spirit, she remained calm.
"What’s so scary?"
Arthur, hearing the voice meant to calm him, stared at his mother’s living face.
Logically speaking, her existence was strange.
Why would there be something like a pillar of support in a trial meant to break someone’s mind?
No matter how much he thought about it, it didn’t make sense.
It was a trap.
It was definitely a trap.
"Why don’t you tell this mother?"
But what does that matter?
Even if it’s a trap, it won’t take away her warmth.
If he holds her hand, maybe the storm of emotions in his mind will vanish.
Maybe he can escape the pain he’s been enduring.
How could he resist?
"Are you scared? It’s okay. Arthur. Don’t worry. I won’t have you blame me."
Arthur, who had been about to reach for her hand, suddenly froze.
His mother, the one he once loved, tilted her head in confusion at his sudden change, but Arthur only smiled bitterly and pulled his hand away.
"Thank you. You made me remember something from the past."
"Arthur? Why are you saying that suddenly?"
"Mother was just someone who was lucky enough to become the queen, nothing more."
A nameless noble who became the queen due to the king’s whims.
A fool who never even received proper education.
That was Arthur’s mother.
After coming to the palace, she was forced to learn some manners, but even so, her innocence, built over decades, never vanished.
Even at the moment of her death, she remained pure in both good and bad ways.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
"My belief that my mother died because of me is, at the end of the day, my own thinking and assumption."
Arthur didn’t think his assumption was wrong.
It was clear that the one who was supposed to support him, the one who had been there for him, died because of him. Otherwise, there was no reason for her death.
"My mother couldn’t have made such an assumption. As a son, I feel like I should say this, but she never had the ability to think like that."
But whether his mother could have made that assumption was another matter.
In Arthur’s mind, his mother had known nothing.
She never understood the palace's scheming, and no matter how much she suffered, she would only smile.
She never thought someone would try to kill her.
Especially not someone related to her child.
"You too... you were my nightmare."
Arthur’s mother, the merciful woman whom he thought had caused him the most pain, nodded and stepped back.
Seeing her, Arthur sighed deeply and stood up.
The sounds around him were still horrifying.
The smell was disgusting, making him nauseous.
All the emotions surging inside him were still there.
But now, he could endure it.
He had realized, thanks to that long-forgotten memory, that it was all a lie.
All that guilt was never going to be atoned for.
Arthur stood, surrounded by the continuing horrors of the scene, but now something within him had shifted. He could now endure the emotions swirling inside him. The old memories—though painful—had helped him realize something crucial: everything around him, all the guilt, was a lie. He understood now that there would be no redemption for it.
"Thank you," he muttered to himself, his voice a hollow whisper. "It’s because of you that I realized."
The surroundings continued to tremble as the horrible sights and sounds pressed in on him, but Arthur had made his choice. His past, his guilt, the haunting memories—he was finally seeing them for what they truly were. Lies. A manipulation of his own mind.
He moved his hand slightly, wiping away the tears that had gathered in his eyes.
Arthur wasn’t the child he once was, the one crushed by the past and unable to let go. This was a new beginning for him—one that had begun when he acknowledged the truth. The people he had loved, the pain they had caused him, all of it would remain in the past, locked away where it belonged.
His resolve steeled as he looked forward. The battle was still ongoing, but now, Arthur was prepared to face it with a newfound strength. He wouldn’t be bound by the chains of his memories any longer.
The future awaited, and with it, a new path he would walk.