Chapter 174: Chapter 174: Protect
While Artorias suffered a crippling injury, a satisfied grin was plastered across Ulric’s face as he felt waves of energy drilling into his body.
As his scythe siphoned both mana and vitality, the gaping hole blasted through his chest closed and healed at a rapid pace.
But that wasn’t what excited him most. He could feel the mana being broken down, restructured, and refined before flowing into his body as aether.
A far better outcome than he could have ever anticipated.
His measly reserves of thirteen drops skyrocketed at an absurd pace.
Twenty drops of aether... thirty... forty... fifty...
It only stabilized when it reached around fifty-seven before finally slowing down.
"Fifty-seven, huh?" Ulric mumbled beneath his breath as a glint of disbelief flashed across his eyes.
The massive leap was astounding.
If before he had estimated it would take a few years to break through to C-rank, now that timeline had been cut down by a large margin. Perhaps a little over a year?
And that wasn’t even the craziest part.
The stronger the beings he killed and drained, the less time it would take for his impending breakthrough to the next rank.
Other D-rank beings needed to meditate and refine their arts to advance to C-rank, a process ranging from months to years.
But Ulric was different. He didn’t need to do any of that.
All he had to do was slay stronger beings to grow stronger.
A perfect path to power, especially for a battle maniac like him.
He was almost tempted to rush deeper into the wastelands and unleash carnage so he could harvest as much aether as possible to accelerate his advancement.
But he couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted to, a wave of exhaustion crashed into him.
The battle had drained him far more than he realized. The gaping hole in his chest certainly didn’t help, and now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the full weight of everything finally hit him.
Letting out a slow breath, Ulric felt his vision growing hazy as strength drained from his body.
The world darkened around him as he staggered slightly, struggling to maintain his footing.
Until he couldn’t hold on anymore and collapsed.
But before he could crash into the ground, his ever-sharp senses detected a figure step into the range of his spiritual field.
She swooped in and caught him as a rich, sweet scent flooded his nostrils.
He didn’t need to open his eyes as a faint smile carved across his lips.
"Amber?" Ulric muttered, his eyes struggling to catch a glimpse of her frame.
Long chestnut hair flowed smoothly down her shoulders, framing an exceedingly beautiful face.
But none of that seemed to matter to the dark-robed youth as his gaze locked onto her large brown eyes, drawing him into a dreamy trance.
***
Amber didn’t seem nearly as relaxed as the figure cradled in her arms.
A worried look lay plastered across her face, one that had formed while watching the latter half of the battle.
Now that she could monitor the youth’s condition up close, she could see it wasn’t as grave as she had initially imagined.
Still, that did little to ease the concern etched across her features.
Her fingers trailed across his body, searching for any other serious injuries.
Only when she found none did she let out a faint breath of relief.
Then her face suddenly twisted with conflicting emotions.
"Why must you be so reckless?" she chided.
She could sense the overwhelming vitality roaring through his body, moving to mend his injuries.
It was brought about by his chosen weapon’s life-steal ability, which she had seen him use multiple times.
She estimated a few days of rest before he would return to his peak condition.
But what if he didn’t have the scythe?
Or worse, what if it hadn’t completed its evolution, preventing him from siphoning vitality from his enemies to heal himself?
What would have happened then?
There were simply too many risks associated with what he had done.
As she sank deeper into her thoughts, a twinge of guilt formed deep within her as her fingers clenched tightly.
What if I had been strong enough to join him in battle? Would this still have happened?
Before she could spiral further, the youth’s voice echoed into her ears once more as an uncanny grin spread across his face.
"How’d you like the show?"
"Huh?"
Amber blinked, staring blankly as her nose scrunched up slightly.
Just as she was about to open her mouth to chide him further, one hand already moving to pinch his waist, she suddenly paused as her eyes locked onto his crimson gaze.
There... She could see it. The twinkle flashing across his eyes. Playful and lighthearted, just like the day she had first met him.
It seemed that even with the passage of time and his power growing to monstrous levels, that part of him hadn’t changed.
Perhaps it was buried a little deeper now, but it was still there.
The more she stared into his eyes, the more wildly her heart thumped as a faint blush spread across her face.
Maybe she didn’t want him to lose that, she mused inwardly.
Before her expression softened. But if this continued... What if he suffered even more serious injuries? What if she lost him?
As the thoughts circled repeatedly through her mind, she clenched her fingers tighter than ever as her gaze swept across his frame once more.
Perhaps the youth was shrouded in layers of unending mystery, making everything about him unpredictable.
But she knew one thing for certain. He was definitely not suicidal.
For every action, there had to be a reason behind it. Even if his actions appeared reckless, there had to be some thought-out plan guiding them, even if she couldn’t see through it yet.
And even if there wasn’t... She would be there to protect him.
Even if it meant protecting him from himself. At the thought, her arms tightened around him, as though shielding him from the world itself.
***
"He did it... he really did it."
Elsewhere within the bounds of Tempest City, behind a rusty old shop, an old man muttered.
A look of disbelief flashed across his eyes as he unknowingly rubbed the stubble beneath his chin.
Something he had recently found himself doing whenever he witnessed something inexplicable, more often than not caused by a particular dark-robed youth.
At the side, a young girl watched as well, awe burning deep within her eyes.
She didn’t know how this feat compared in the grand scheme of things.
But seeing even Alaric astonished made her believe it had to be incredible.
Even though she couldn’t keep track of much of the battle, she had quickly realized the youth’s power was far more monstrous than what a regular D-rank being could, or should possess.
She doubted regular C-rank beings would be a match for him anymore.
Not after seeing how easily he had dealt with the first opponent, Kael Malgrave, who was clearly a peak C-rank being.
Her face reddened slightly as she watched Amber approach the dark-robed youth before cradling him tightly in her arms.
"So... beautiful..." Mira muttered beneath her breath as she raised a hand toward the shimmering screen, almost as though she could touch her.
She wouldn’t be exaggerating when she said Amber looked like an illusionary fairy dragged straight out of a dream.
They all did, she mused, recalling all the women who usually stood by his side.
And as if on cue, she watched them trail behind Amber before circling the dark-robed youth in a protective gesture.
Across the realm of Arcadia, it wasn’t rare for powerful figures to have multiple wives and concubines.
If anything—Mira rubbed her nose as a mischievous glint flashed across her eyes.
His little harem paled greatly in comparison to great nobles, kings, and emperors who possessed hundreds, if not thousands.
It was just rare to see someone cherish each and every one of them so closely, and have that devotion returned in equal measure.
Was this what the essence of love entailed?
It just felt... Sacred.
***
Unaware of the spiraling fantasies of a certain little girl, Alaric slipped into a mad rave as he mumbled beneath his breath, his eyes lighting up with every word.
"This... speed... calculation... power... how?"
He had been monitoring the battle closely, ready to intervene the moment the youth found himself in grave danger.
Never once since the battle began had he expected the youth to last so long, let alone emerge victorious.
He of all people understood the gap between ranks the higher one advanced.
Yet the youth had bridged that gap as though it didn’t exist.
But now was not the time for shock.
His eyes narrowed toward the endless horizon where Artorias had barely escaped.
His gaze hardened as his fists clenched tightly.
News of this couldn’t spread. At least not yet.
With those thoughts, his figure suddenly vanished.
Definitely not to steal the flying mystical treasure.
