"I… am not some random rock." Jasper spoke calmly before exhaling heavily and charging toward Arthur once more.
A powerful kick slammed into Arthur's chest, forcing his body backward, though he did not fall.
Instead, he looked at Jasper with slight surprise and muttered,
"It's been a long time… since I felt something like this."
Jasper laughed loudly, as though he genuinely enjoyed the brutality of the situation. "Then you should be grateful!"
Arthur smiled in return, and the two lunged at each other again, as though they had entered a personal duel that belonged to no one else.
This time, Arthur focused his attacks carefully.
He struck near Jasper's heart the one area that had not hardened completely.
Jasper did not understand his opponent's exact intention, but his instincts screamed clearly enough:
He was searching for a point… where another blade could grow.
So Jasper increased the density of his hardening in that region, trying to crush Arthur's intentions through sheer force.
Then suddenly, amidst the storm of blows, Jasper spoke.
"Do you think I'm the only one who came here?"
Arthur did not answer. And that silence itself was the answer.
Jasper took advantage of the moment, stepping backward to regain his breath and stabilize his hardening once again, but Arthur merely shook his head.
"You are the only one that matters right now. After you… I can find the others."
And then something happened that Arthur had not expected.
Suddenly, as Jasper's defenses began to crack, soldiers surged forward from every direction.
They wanted Arthur dead. Dozens of swords and savage bodies rushed toward him, driven by a collective desire to bring him down.
But Arthur did not move.
There was only one thing he sought ,One touch.
And amidst the madness, he reached Jasper at last and drove a concentrated strike directly into his chest with all his strength.
Jasper stopped , He looked down at his chest.
Nothing , No blade emerged , No explosion occurred , No fracture. "…?"
Calmly, he restored his hardening and lifted his foot to take another step.
Then suddenly he collapsed.
As though an electric current had pierced through his spine, Jasper fell to the ground groaning, his muscles convulsing violently, his eyes widening in agony.
With difficulty, he raised his head and stared at Arthur as though demanding an explanation.
But Arthur merely stood there calmly, looking down at him with eyes that held neither pity nor anger…
Only certainty.
Jasper could no longer move. His muscles trembled uncontrollably, his face pale, yet he still tried to maintain composure and silently regulate the flow of his energy, as though fighting against collapse itself.
Arthur noticed immediately.
Without hesitation, he picked up a sword from the ground and walked toward him with calm, decisive steps — like a man coming to finish what he started without a shred of emotion.
He intended to kill that man and complete the mission, just as he always did.
But suddenly a figure appeared at incredible speed, dragging Jasper's body away.
Within moments, three individuals gathered around him.
One immediately began treating him, while Arthur noticed something strange a soldier nearby was carrying Jasper's severed arm.
Only a short while later, the arm was reattached as though it had never been lost.
Arthur stared at the sight with mild surprise before speaking seriously.
"This isn't fun. You cut your own arm off yourself, so why reattach it now, rock?"
Jasper answered with difficulty, his voice hoarse and heavy. "My name… is Jasper. I'm not a rock. And by the way… would you like a second round?"
Arthur shook his head in boredom.
"There's too much trash here already. I don't have time to waste effort on them."
Jasper tried to laugh, but pain crushed the sound before it escaped, so he settled for silence instead.
Meanwhile, Arthur stood there feeling strangely sluggish.
"Next…" he said quietly, as though the battle no longer excited him the way it once had.
On Jasper's side, however, his heart pounded violently, and a strange excitement crept through him despite his exhaustion.
He wanted to stand and he wanted to fight again , But another man interrupted him.
"Give me only three minutes. He'll stand again just for you. So both of you stop fighting for now."
One of the nearby men immediately objected.
"Matthew, you shouldn't speak with humans!"
But Matthew merely raised an eyebrow and replied indifferently,
"Antoine, that doesn't matter. He's strong… and that makes this entertaining to watch, doesn't it, Jasper?"
Jasper did not answer.
He was exhausted barely able to breathe.
Looking at himself in disgust, he muttered, "I want to take a bath after this battle…"
His dirty brown hair clung to his face, his brown eyes heavy with fatigue, and he looked as though he had survived a war lasting days.
He did not even look toward Matthew, who somehow remained perfectly clean and well-groomed in a way that inspired jealousy.
Arthur suddenly spoke in a calm tone while staring at the gray sky. "Thirty seconds remain…"
Jasper cautiously began moving his arm again while Matthew remained focused on the final touches of treatment.
Then Matthew suddenly turned toward Arthur. "Human…"
"My name is Arthur," Arthur replied indifferently without even looking at him.
"You're strong. Your abilities are truly impressive… If you had struck someone other than this rock — I mean, Jasper they probably would have died from the first hit."
Arthur smiled faintly.
"He is strong indeed… but I'm capable of injuring whoever I want because I control my power well."
He approached Matthew with measured steps, his gaze steady.
"You're a doctor. I allowed you to treat Jasper… but I have a question."
He stopped in front of him. "Can you treat someone else?"
"You may refuse."
Matthew sighed and answered simply, "I'm a doctor. Just show me the way."
Arthur walked silently, and Matthew followed him.
As they left, Matthew called out toward Jasper,
"Don't move. You might actually die this time… your heart is unstable."
In a quieter place among the ruins, Arthur removed part of his armor near his arm, revealing a catastrophic wound.
The flesh was burned.
Fragments of bone were visible.
Spiritual energy leaked from the injury like blood.
Matthew stared at the wound and spoke quietly. "The price of power… isn't it?" But suddenly, Arthur pulled out a knife. Matthew smiled faintly and continued, "I don't care what you think. I'm a doctor, so I'll treat you."
"But after this… pretend you never met me. Understood?"
Matthew began working, then muttered, "Give me half a minute."
Arthur noticed Matthew's refined appearance—his neatly combed blond hair, calm blue eyes, and clothes that were barely stained. "You look like a noble… what are you doing in the middle of this chaos?"
Matthew replied calmly, "My name is Matthew, and like the rose of Edminal… we do not have a choice. Lord Ron Feng's will is absolute."
Arthur felt something was wrong, as if the very air around them had shifted. A sudden, sharp sense of panic crept into his heart—shock mixed with disbelief—but he hid it. He didn't want to provoke the doctor.
Matthew emitted an undeniable aura—calmness hiding a storm. When Arthur sensed his spiritual power, he was stunned. Deep within that mysterious presence, he realized a shocking truth… Matthew was not ordinary. He stood on the edge of perfection… or perhaps, at its end.
Arthur raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. "You're already very close… when will you advance?"
Matthew shrugged simply and walked away. "I'm done."
As he left, Arthur followed him with two steps. Matthew continued, "In fact, I shouldn't tell you this… maybe you'll come back later to kill me. I know everything about you. You are dangerous. But I will become immortal. That is my fate."
Arthur smiled faintly without realizing it. "That makes sense… use the chaos and grow stronger. You're smart enough for that."
Matthew nodded as if acknowledging him, then Arthur returned to the battlefield while Matthew gave him a light wave before disappearing among his companions.
Amid the clash of swords and screams, Arthur felt as if he had briefly ascended to heaven and returned.
"Some peace… isn't harmful." he whispered to himself, then gripped his sword and re-entered the battle.
Arthur looked across the battlefield with half-cold, half-wary eyes. The noise rose again, and more soldiers appeared.
A strange prickling sensation hit his heart—not physical pain, but something deeper, as if his very existence was warning him of an approaching end… or the beginning of something worse. Matthew's presence had felt like a blessing.
"No more time to delay," he muttered, scanning the approaching faces. None were familiar. No signs of allegiance.
On the other side, Antoine was still circling Matthew and the exhausted Jasper. Alongside them stood Milo, watching the battlefield with hidden tension. He wasn't tall or terrifying, but his eyes were sharp and alert—yet something still unsettled him this time.
Suddenly, a tall man stood before Milo, wearing completely black armor with no insignia.
Milo frowned, unable to identify his allegiance or even his presence. "Are… you lost?"
The man shook his head calmly. "No. But I feel somewhat disoriented." He looked around at the chaos, the blood, and destruction. "This place looks like a catastrophe."
Milo smiled. "That's exactly what it is."
But before he could continue, a soldier fell beside them with a heavy thud.
Milo glanced away for a moment, not noticing the wound on his right hand that had begun to bleed slowly. The man, however, noticed immediately.
"Your hand is bleeding," he said softly, pulling out his sickle. "Cover your hand… I actually have a severe phobia of blood." He turned his face away.
Milo gestured toward Arthur, his expression serious. "You're a fighter. You shouldn't fear blood. Can you fight that man?"
The man replied wearily, "I will try."
He walked away with steady steps, watching Arthur from a distance.
In a forgotten corner of the field, he found a broken rock and sat on it as if nothing mattered. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath.
A faint glow flickered in his right eye… then a small smile appeared on his face. He looked at Milo with pity. Slowly, he turned his gaze to his hand… where he saw something strange he had already become used to.
A long, transparent thread, faintly glowing gray, extended from his finger toward Milo's body… connecting to his veins, spreading like a spiderweb inside him.
Once the thread was fully established between the man and Milo, he smiled calmly and moved his fingers slightly.
At that moment… Milo's breath stopped.
He felt something creeping inside him, like a cold shadow choking his chest. His eyes turned blood-red.
"What is happening to me?!" he shouted in panic, but no one answered.
Jasper, Antoine, Matthew… they had all moved away. He didn't truly know them—they had met only that day—but still, he felt a strange pain in his heart, an undefined betrayal.
Milo looked around in confusion, but his body began moving on its own. He drew his sword… and attacked.
Everyone who stood in his way—comrade, ally, friend—fell.
Arthur, on the other side, noticed the chaos, but used it with lethal precision to end the battle.
Yet Milo continued.
When he tried to summon his spiritual essence to stop himself, the result was the opposite.
He stabbed himself, screaming in pain, but he was no longer in control.
"It's as if my essence is not mine…" he muttered, panic rising.
He closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them… he wanted to tear them out. He wanted to stop seeing.
Then someone approached him calmly.
"Why didn't you treat your hand?" the man asked coldly, as if it didn't matter.
Milo looked at him in shock. "It's… you…"
The man laughed loudly, clearly pleased. "That's right."
"Kill me…" Milo whispered, lowering his head. But the man showed no sympathy.
"You are a traitor. You killed your comrades. Your lord will see you as a stain," he said in a lifeless tone.
Milo murmured brokenly, "You bound everything… even my essence… is this allowed? Is this normal?"
The man replied calmly, "Every rule… has a loophole."
Then he drew his sword, and with a single strike, ended Milo's life.
Milo's head fell to the ground, and for a moment the world went silent… then erupted again.
The man moved like a killing machine, not stopping until he stood before Arthur.
He raised his sword, and Arthur responded by lifting his own as well. In a stern voice, Arthur said, "Show your allegiance."
The man replied in a steady tone, "I serve the revered Lord Edminal. I was personally sent to assist Arthur Bryce."
Arthur slowly lowered his sword. "Oh…" He sighed. Arthur felt irritate.' I wanted to end everything before more reinforcements showed up…'