— Hurry!!!
Eric and Arthur dashed into a deserted alley. Suddenly, Eric stopped.
— Stop, let's wait here for a moment.
Arthur dropped to his knees, catching his breath, while Eric cautiously scanned the ends of the alley.
— Did we lose them?
— …Seems like it.
— Good.
Arthur stood up, turning his back as if ready to leave.
— Let's get out of this filthy place.
But suddenly, he felt Eric's hand grip his shoulder from behind.
— Arthur… may I ask you something else?
Arthur turned his face halfway, puzzled by Eric's action, while the latter continued in a calm tone:
— When you agreed to risk yourself in something that doesn't concern you at all, it couldn't have been just for a trivial bet. Tell me, Arthur… are you planning something?
Arthur remained silent, facing forward with conflicted eyes, as if the answer weighed heavily on his tongue.
— What is it that drives me to follow this man…?
In Auraya, where I was born, I lived my childhood with only my father, after my parents separated and my mother took my older sister with her.
One night, when I was still a child, I heard my father's voice calling me:
— Arthur? Are you asleep?
I turned toward him with a drowsy smile, my eyes half-closed with fatigue.
— Yes, father.
He smiled back and sat by my bedside.
— Oh… you look unusually tired today.
I hesitated for a moment, then whispered:
— Father… why do some of the children in the village have abilities that I don't?
His forehead creased at the question, but he soon stroked my hair and replied gently:
— My son… once, our land was pure. There were no differences in people's abilities. But now you see—some control water or fire, some master sorcery, and some are blessed with strength from the gods. But we… we believe in the one true God, not in idols that falsely claim divinity.
From a young age, there was always one thing I lacked… strength.
---
I remember clearly my screams:
— Get away from me!
Five children surrounded me. Four pinned me down by my arms and legs, while the fifth stepped forward with a face full of malice, holding a small flame in his hand.
— Let's see if you're fit to be roasted, outcast!
His burning hand crept closer and closer to my face, while I struggled helplessly.
— I said get away from me!!!
Suddenly, I gathered every ounce of strength left in me and headbutted one of them. My fist flew wildly and struck another. My arms broke free—I staggered to my feet and lunged madly at the boy who had tried to scorch my face. My fists rained down on him until his face was nothing but blood and bruises. The others recoiled in fear, then fled, leaving me trembling at what I had done.
That evening, the boy's mother stormed into our home, screaming at my father. But he didn't shout back; he only kept apologizing with a faint smile, and ended up paying compensation so I wouldn't be punished.
I stayed in my room, bracing myself for his scolding. Instead, he entered and said:
— Arthur, my son… I'm sorry for bringing you into this unjust world. The bullying you endure is my fault. But remember… I will always be by your side.
---
From that day on, I knew what I needed… strength.
I trained alone since childhood. Every spare moment—after school, after work—my mind was filled with nothing but training. Over time, my training grew harsher, more grueling. I believed I would one day be able to face anyone.
But I strayed into darker paths…
---
I recall the first time a "gifted" collapsed from one of my punches. One strike, and he went down, leaving everyone around in shock. At that moment, I thought I didn't need supernatural powers to defend myself.
But reality was cruel.
In many fights, I was beaten to the ground. I would win some, then lose, and lose again, even more brutally. With every defeat, I saw contempt in my opponents' eyes. And yet… I never gave up.
---
When I turned twenty, my father passed away from a hereditary illness that even sorcerers couldn't cure. My spirit died with him.
I left the village behind. I wandered from place to place, learning the art of combat with weapons and martial skills from masters in their own lands. Later, I used them to win street-fight wagers—the only thing I truly excelled at was fighting.
I fought with brutality… and lost with even greater brutality. I drowned myself in alcohol,My face is disfigured by scars, until people avoided even crossing paths with me.
I thought I could finally defeat the gifted. But that illusion shattered when I met him.
---
— You're Arthur, right?
— And who the hell are you?
— Doesn't matter. Let's make a bet. If you beat me, I'll give you as much money as you want.
— And if you win?
— Then you'll become my follower. Don't worry—I'll pay you well.
— Hah… fine, stranger.
he finish me with a single kick I never even saw coming. That's when I realized the gulf between him and me… between his world and mine. He fought like an ordinary man, but he was anything but ordinary.
— Arthur… what if I told you I could grant you that power?
His words pierced my heart. They were like a thread of hope in the middle of all my darkness. At that moment, I decided… to end the endless cycle of pointless fights.
---
Arthur returned from his memories, lifting his gaze toward Eric, who was still waiting for his answer.
— So, what am I planning? … I lost a bet, and a man keeps his word.
— Really, Arthur? If I were you, I would've run the moment that fight ended.
— ...…