Chereads / Harem king. / Chapter 19 - Chapter: 17 Revenge

Chapter 19 - Chapter: 17 Revenge

Later that night, while Arthur lay sleeping, he abruptly found himself wide awake, seated in front of the Denier, in a setting that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He sat in a grand gallery adorned in white and gold, surrounded by billowing clouds and bathed in the ethereal glow of golden sunlight.

Startled by the sudden shift from sleep to this surreal space, Arthur looked around in disbelief, muttering, "Whoa, how did I get here? Wasn't I sleeping? Am I in a dream?"

The Denier, already present in the celestial realm, responded, "In a sense, yes, but no."

Arthur, not having noticed her before, was taken aback by her sudden presence and her enigmatic response. He stammered, "What the—when did you get here, and where am I this time?"

Casually taking a bite of a cracker, the Denier spoke with an air of authority, "I was always here, and I am the one who brought you to the celestial realm. Anyway, forget about the small stuff and focus on the matter at hand."

Arthur nervously chuckled, "Ehehe, um, okay, but is everything okay?"

The Denier, in her usual enigmatic demeanour, downed the cracker and replied, "Yeah, everything's fine, but how are you doing?"

Arthur, attempting to maintain a façade, smiled forcibly. "I'm doing okay, I guess, but why do you ask? I thought you knew everything, past, present, and future?"

The Denier, finishing her snack and releasing a sigh, explained, "I do, which is why I'm asking. You don't seem okay to me."

Arthur's expression dimmed. "Yeah, I guess you got me there. I'm just a little bit worried about tomorrow. I wonder if I can pull it off this time and put an end to this."

The Denier, gently patting Arthur's head, spoke with a reassuring smile, "I believe in you, Arthur. You can pull this off. Just do your best and don't give up. Also, stop overthinking things."

A glimmer of hope filled Arthur's eyes. "Right. You know how everything will end, don't you?"

The Denier shook her head, denying his assumption. "No, Arthur, I don't."

In shock and surprise, Arthur questioned, "Huh, you don't? But why? You're the goddess of time, though."

The Denier's expression turned serious. "Yes, and that's precisely one of the reasons why you are here currently."

Arthur furrowed his brow, trying to comprehend. "Wait, what do you mean?"

The Denier explained, "There are moments in the tapestry of time that even I cannot foresee. Your actions, and your choices, weave into the fabric of fate, creating uncertainties, and variables that alter the predictable course of events. Your journey, and your decisions—hold the power to shift the future, creating ripples that even I cannot fully comprehend. And tomorrow is one of those moments in the tapestry of time that is recorded in Akashic records which even gods are forbidden to look into because even gods are not free from their fates recorded into it. And the events that are recorded into Akashic records I can't neither see nor comprehend them."

Arthur, grappling with the weight of her words, nodded slowly. "So, you brought me here to tell me that the outcome is uncertain?"

The Denier nodded in confirmation. "Yes but also to warn you and tell you the things that I saw to the point where I couldn't."

Arthur, curious and surprised by the Denier's words, asked, "Warn me? What kind of things are you talking about?"

The Denier, her gaze steady, explained, "Yes, to warn you. No matter what you see or hear tomorrow, don't lose control over yourself in anger or rage. The challenges you will face will be more than you can handle but don't lose heart. Your resolve, and your choices, will shape what is yet to come. Trust in your heart, Arthur, and have faith in the strength you and the others carry within."

Arthur, absorbing the gravity of her caution, nodded earnestly. "I understand. I'll try my best to stay composed, no matter the adversity."

The Denier continued, her voice taking on a sombre tone. "The path that lies ahead will test not only your strength but also your spirit. Remember, the choices you make will not only impact your fate but also the destinies of those around you. The power to alter the future rests in your hands."

Arthur, feeling the weight of responsibility, acknowledged the significance of his upcoming decisions. "I won't forget the consequences of my actions. I'll do my best to guide our path towards the right direction."

The Denier's expression softened with a reassuring smile. "That's all I ask, Arthur. Your journey tomorrow will be arduous, but I have faith in your ability to overcome it. The threads of fate are woven with choices and courage. Trust in your allies and yourself."

Arthur… Arthur

A faint voice starts to echo in the background, increasing in pitch with every call.

Denier, not surprised by the voice, continues with a hint of a smile," I guess our times are up. But before I go I would like to give you a last piece of advice, you might want to bring more allies to your table this time. Good luck and give it your all for both of our sake.

As the celestial gallery began to dissolve, the Denier's figure shimmered, and Arthur found himself awakening in the inn. The words of the Denier resonated in his mind, a constant reminder of the challenges and uncertainties that awaited him the following day.

With a newfound sense of determination and a clearer understanding of the responsibility that lay ahead, Arthur gazed at his companions, resolved to face the challenges head-on and guide their collective fate with wisdom and unwavering courage.

As the celestial gallery dissolved and reality reasserted itself, Arthur found himself back in the inn. The Denier's words lingered in his mind, a constant reminder of the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead.

With a newfound determination and a clearer understanding of the responsibility that awaited him, Arthur gazed at his companions, resolute to confront the upcoming trials with wisdom and unwavering courage.

Vianola, noticing Arthur's intent gaze, inquired, "You okay, Arthur? You seemed lost in thought and were speaking in your sleep. Were you having an unpleasant dream?"

Arthur, stifling a yawn, reassured her, "Yeah, I'm okay, nothing to worry about. But why are you guys awake in the middle of the night?"

Vianola looked perplexed, "Night? What are you talking about? Look outside, it's already morning. Get ready; we need to plan for today."

Arthur, feeling slightly embarrassed, chuckled softly, "Oh, you're right. I guess I was still half asleep. You guys go ahead; I'll join you in a minute."

As his companions moved to strategize for the day ahead, Arthur took a moment to gather his thoughts. The cryptic advice from the Denier echoed in his mind, serving as a constant reminder of the weighty responsibility he carried.

After gathering his thoughts, Arthur readied himself for the day ahead. He joined his companions downstairs for breakfast, and over a meal, they delved into discussions, strategizing for the challenges that lay ahead. Together, they formulated a plan, each step calculated and purposeful.

Once their strategy was finalized, Arthur, along with Momo and Vianola, readied themselves to execute their plan. With practised precision, they teleported first to the Holy Kingdom, splitting up from Momo. Arthur and Vianola teleported to Elfheim and, finally, separating from Vianola arrived in the serene lands of Fairy Land.

Each of them had a singular task in mind: to seek reinforcements for the impending, unfinished battle. Arthur, focused and resolute, approached the Fairy Queen, presenting their need for aid in the coming conflict. Momo and Vianola, following their assigned paths, sought support from powerful entities in their respective realms.

In the Holy Kingdom, Momo sought unfulfilled favour from the Saintess, while Vianola, in the magical lands of Elfheim, informed Seraphina and Ignis about their upcoming battle and solicited her parents King Amer and Queen Ellyena for assistance. Each presented their case with urgency and conviction, appealing for aid against the impending threat that loomed on the horizon.

After Vianola successfully secured the support of the magician Elves from Elfheim and Momo gained the aid of the elite holy knights from the Holy Kingdom, both contacted Arthur through magic orbs, informing him of their readiness and waiting for him to arrive with the mass teleportation scroll.

Arthur, after Vianola's communication, turned to the Fairy Queen with a respectful yet urgent appeal. "You heard them, right? So, if you don't mind, could you provide me with two mass teleportation scrolls? We're in dire need of help right now."

The Fairy Queen chuckled warmly, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, Arthur, you're just so adorable! I wish I could claim you for myself. Of course, I know you need them. Like I said before, don't underestimate fairies, my boy. Last time, you aided me and the Fairy Land, so now it's our turn to repay the favour. Take as many as you need."

With a playful grin, she signalled a few fairies, who promptly arrived with an assortment of scrolls, placing them before Arthur.

Gratefully picking up a couple of scrolls, Arthur bowed respectfully, expressing his gratitude to the Fairy Queen before swiftly teleporting to the Holy Kingdom.

In the Holy Kingdom, Arthur met with Momo, delivering one of the mass teleportation scrolls to her. "Do as we planned out."

Simultaneously, he teleported to Elfheim, meeting with Vianola and handing her the second mass teleportation scroll. "You know the plan."

With their plans aligned and preparations complete, Momo and Vianola readied themselves to execute the mass teleportation, each leading their respective reinforcements.

Meanwhile, Arthur found himself in Hellberg, preparing to set off towards the ancient temple of Freya, knowing that the fate of many hinged on the success of their strategy. As he readied himself for the impending journey, the weight of the impending conflict bore heavily upon him, yet his resolve remained unshaken.

Awaiting the signal from Momo and Vianola to initiate the mass teleportation, Arthur stood resolute, ready to embark on a path fraught with uncertainty but guided by unwavering determination. The destinies of kingdoms hung in the balance, and their every action now was pivotal in shaping the course of events that lay ahead.

As the pivotal moment approached, the team gathered to finalize their plans. The weight of the impending battle hung heavily in the air, and Arthur, keenly aware of the potential risks, shared a few words of encouragement with Momo and Vianola.

"A few hours ago, Momo, you okay, girl? I know we've had some pretty unpleasant memories, but no matter what happens or is said, don't let it bother or get to you today. And the same goes for you, Vianola," Arthur expressed, trying to ease any tension among them.

Vianola smirked, "Look who's talking. You should worry about yourself, not us. I'll look after Momo. But what about you?"

Arthur smiled reassuringly. "No need to worry about me; I have someone looking after me," he said, gazing upwards cryptically.

Vianola, perplexed, queried, "Looking after you? What are you talking about?"

With a light laugh, Arthur diverted the conversation. "Nothing of importance. Let's focus on discussing our strategy for today. We know the enemy, but we don't know their numbers. It could be just him or potentially hundreds. So, our priority is allies. We need reliable reinforcements on standby. I'll transport Momo to the Holy Kingdom and Vianola to Elfheim, where you'll request reinforcements from the Saintess and King Aimer. When you're prepared, contact me via a magical orb, and I'll bring the mass teleportation scroll. You two will remain on standby while I scout the Ancient Temple. If I notice a large number of enemies, I'll contact you both via the magical orb, and you'll teleport to my location."

With the strategy laid out, the team understood their roles and responsibilities. Arthur, sensing the importance of a solid plan, wanted to ensure they were prepared for any situation that might unfold.

The stakes were high, and every move they made would impact the outcome of the impending conflict. As they readied themselves for the trials ahead, the weight of responsibility weighed heavily upon them. The fate of kingdoms rested on their decisions, their unity, and their readiness to act swiftly in the face of adversity.

In the present, Arthur took off towards the north, heading to the location where the Ancient Temple of Freya lay dormant. With a sense of determination fueling his every step, he fortified himself with enhancing magic, augmenting his speed and endurance to hasten his journey.

He traversed the varying terrains, running tirelessly, the landscape changing from lush meadows to dense forests until, finally, the silhouette of the Ancient Temple of Freya emerged on the horizon. As the temple came into view, Arthur slowed his pace, casting spells to diminish his presence as much as possible, ensuring his approach remained as discreet as could be.

A veil of mist enveloped the ancient temple, adding an ethereal quality to the surroundings. The forest encircling the temple stood tall, thick foliage casting dappled shadows across the worn path that led to the temple's entrance. Overgrown vines clung to the aged stones of the structure, echoing tales of a forgotten era.

The Ancient Temple of Freya itself stood as a testament to a distant time. Its weathered stone walls, weatherworn and marked by history, towered into the sky. Carvings and engravings, etched by an ancient hand, adorned its façade, depicting tales of gods and legends long past. The temple resonated with an enigmatic aura, a confluence of mystique and antiquity.

As Arthur approached a cliff near the temple, the ancient structure came into full view. A solemn stillness pervaded the area, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant echo of nature's symphony. The temple, an enigmatic and formidable structure against the backdrop of the forest, exuded an air of both sacredness and mystery.

Arthur, standing at the cliff's edge, carefully observed the creatures patrolling the temple and its surroundings. The area appeared deceptively tranquil, yet the heavy emanation of divinity magic contrasted sharply with the apparent calmness. Enhancing his vision with magic, he attempted to scrutinize the temple and zoomed in on the various entrances, seeking any anomaly or sign of intrusion.

Despite his efforts, Arthur couldn't detect anything out of the ordinary. Frustrated by the lack of visible disturbances, he resorted to clairvoyance magic. Peering into the temple's interior, he was met with a sight that left him astounded, disbelief etched across his features.

As Arthur delved deeper into the temple through his clairvoyance, he was startled to see someone incredibly familiar. Before he could glean any further details, the figure turned, meeting Arthur's magical gaze with a knowing smile. A sudden, intentional snap from the figure's fingers abruptly severed Arthur's clairvoyance magic.

As the connection was forcibly cut, Arthur recoiled, his hand instinctively reaching for his eyes, a wry smile forming on his lips. "You son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath, the unexpected encounter leaving him both shocked and incensed.

This sudden encounter added an unexpected layer of intrigue and urgency to the impending situation, intensifying the sense of foreboding that already surrounded the temple. With a mix of surprise and frustration, Arthur steeled himself, preparing for the challenges and confronting the unexpected twist that lay ahead.

Amidst the intense atmosphere surrounding the temple, the figure Arthur had glimpsed earlier and relayed his presence to Freya, informing her of his arrival. "Arthur is here, seemingly alone," he reported.

However, Freya interjected sharply, "He isn't alone. Don't be mistaken. He and the others pose the only threat to our pursuit of power and position. I am on the brink of reaching my full strength. Go and handle them, or at least delay them until then."

Accepting the command, the figure prepared to confront Arthur and his allies, the fate of their conflict hanging in the balance.

Meanwhile, Arthur, wielding a magic orb, initiated communication with Momo and Vianola, relaying coordinates for a collective teleportation.

As the trio teleported with knights and elves, Arthur found himself amidst the group in the south of the temple, greeting and reuniting with everyone. With a knowing smile, he assessed the army assembled behind him. Drawing upon his earth magic, he erected a raised platform, positioning himself to address the gathered forces.

Standing tall, Arthur delivered an impassioned speech, his words a rallying cry that bolstered the morale of those who had gathered, instilling within them a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

With unwavering resolve, Arthur positioned himself at the forefront, his companions arrayed behind him, ready to heed his command. The weight of the impending conflict loomed large, but with a unified front, they stood prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As the group advanced toward the temple, Arthur took the lead, with the figure teleporting himself and the horde of monsters, positioning them squarely between Arthur's group and their destination.

Upon seeing the familiar, contemptuous figure, Arthur muttered under his breath, "Francis."

The horde of monsters encompassed a variety of grotesque creatures, from giants with imposing sizes to smaller, more agile monstrosities. The legion was led by a nefarious necromancer, who commanded a skeletal army. Amongst them, a death knight, heavily armoured and wielding a menacing blade, posed a formidable threat.

Coming face to face with the oncoming horde, Arthur raised his sword, signalling to his allies to charge. In response, Francis, with a sinister grin stretched across his face, impatiently surged ahead, with the horde of monsters following closely behind.

As Francis met Arthur on the battlefield, their swords clashed, and a sardonic grin adorned Francis's face. "You certainly look pleased to see your younger brother again, big brother. Did you miss me that much?" Said Arthur.

With a swing and a clash of swords, Francis laughed and retorted, "Brother? That takes me back. But I am not the brother you used to know. Do you want to know who I truly am?"

Taken aback by his words, Arthur retreated, his mind racing with confusion and surprise. "Not the brother I used to know? Did you lose your sanity after all this time alone?"

Mockingly, Francis pushed back Arthur with a powerful slash and replied, "Mock me all you want, but you don't stand a chance against a god."

Staggered, Arthur asked, "A god?"

With a confident chuckle, Francis lifted himself into the air, enveloped by divine energy, and underwent a transformative change. His attire shifted to a green ensemble, and a curved horned helmet adorned his head, radiating a blinding light.

Arthur, barely opening his eyes, used wind magic to elevate himself to eye level with Francis, who had completed his transformation.

With a smirk, Francis introduced himself anew, "Let me reintroduce myself. I am Loki, the god of mischief and chaos, a master of deception and trickery."

Arthur, overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions – surprise, shock, and confusion – struggled to form words. He eventually managed to ask, "How is this possible? I heard you were killed in the last holy war."

Loki chuckled, "Ah, that's the reaction I was hoping for. It's as easy as taking a stroll in the garden for me to fake my death. It's not my fault the other gods were so easily deceived, despite knowing who I truly am."

In a moment of determination, Arthur interrupted Loki, his voice seething with anger, "Since when? Since when were you Loki? From the beginning? No, it doesn't add up. Some events, like you seeing through me much later, don't make sense. Then, was it Francis or Loki that killed her?"

Arthur's eyes blazed with bloodlust as he locked his gaze on Loki.

Loki, his smirk unfaltering, replied, "Does it matter? I'll humour your curiosity. I am both Francis and Loki. Francis is the persona I adopted after reincarnating myself in the future, thanks to the Akashic records I acquired. This allowed me to regain my memories and divinity magic. Before reincarnating, I made a pact with Freya. I would assist her in regaining her full strength in the future, and she would help me regain my memories and divinity magic. Recently, she fulfilled her part of the bargain and I regained all my memories. So, before regaining my memories, I was Francis, but after regaining, I am Loki with Francis' memory."

While Loki revealed the truth, Vianola and Momo fought valiantly against the horde of monsters, the necromancer and death knight included. Vianola was locked in a fierce battle with the necromancer and his skeletal minions, while Momo confronted the formidable death knight. The holy knights and magician elves fought alongside them, focusing on eliminating the remaining monsters in the horde, as the conflict raged on.

Vianola, her magical prowess unleashed, engaged in a fierce battle with the malevolent necromancer. The air crackled with magic as Vianola cast spell after spell, countering the necromancer's dark incantations. The sorcerer conjured a horde of menacing skeletal minions, their bony frames clattering as they surged forward under the necromancer's command.

Vianola, agile and quick-witted, skillfully dodged the bone-chilling attacks from the skeletons while launching her spells, aiming to dismantle the dark energies sustaining the undead army. She countered the necromancer's dark arts with dazzling displays of her elemental mastery, wielding the forces of nature against the necromancer's shadowy abilities.

The battlefield was a symphony of spells and incantations as the clash intensified. Vianola's resolve was unwavering, her vibrant energy intermingling with the vivid manifestations of her magic, creating a dazzling display that illuminated the battleground.

Meanwhile, Momo faced the menacing death knight, a formidable adversary clad in ominous armour, wielding a massive, malevolent blade. The death knight exuded an aura of darkness, an imposing presence that sent chills down the spines of even the bravest warriors.

Momo, agile and determined, engaged in a dance of blades with the death knight. Her martial skills were honed through years of training, and she parried the death knight's strikes with precision and agility. The clash of steel echoed throughout the battlefield as she manoeuvred around the knight's imposing stature, looking for weaknesses to exploit.

With every movement, Momo countered the death knight's brute strength with her swiftness and agility, aiming precise strikes to exploit the chinks in the knight's armour. The battle between the two adversaries was a testament to skill and strength, the clash of blades resonating as the combatants tested each other's limits.

As the battle raged on, Vianola and Momo fought valiantly, each facing their formidable adversaries, their skills and determination shining brightly amidst the chaos of the battlefield.

Arthur and Loki engaged in a breathtaking aerial battle, their forms blurring as they dodged, weaved, and clashed in the sky. Each collision of their attacks sent shockwaves reverberating through the air, creating dazzling displays of light and sound that left onlookers awestruck.

As they soared through the skies, Arthur's voice rang out, filled with determination and fury. "Well, you're right. It doesn't matter whether you're Loki or Francis, and it doesn't matter who killed her, because I hate and despise both of you. It just so happens that you're the same person, which makes my task easier. I'll finally avenge her."

Loki, his mischievous grin never leaving his face, scoffed at Arthur's words. "You're welcome to try, but don't disappoint me like you did before when you let her die and ran away with your tail between your legs."

Arthur's eyes blazed with intense killing intent, his entire being consumed by anger and a burning desire for vengeance. He unleashed his full power and shifted from a defensive stance to an all-out assault, his every move exuding an aura of unrestrained power and determination.

The battle between Arthur and Loki was an extraordinary display of power and prowess, a confrontation that transcended mere combat and turned into a spectacle of supernatural might.

Each clash of their swords echoed like thunder, sending shockwaves through the air that reverberated for miles. The sheer force of their collision created an otherworldly light show, vibrant streaks of energy erupting with each strike.

Their movements were a dance of power and skill, defying the laws of physics and reality. They weaved and twisted through the air, leaving behind trails of colourful, crackling energy that painted the sky. Lightning bolts crackled and danced around them, mirroring the intensity of their conflict.

The force of their strikes created shockwaves that rippled through the very fabric of existence. The air itself seemed to tremble in awe at the sheer magnitude of their battle. The ground below quaked, trees trembled, and the very earth seemed to resonate with their incredible power.

Their conversation interwoven with the sounds of battle, a symphony of clashes and magical explosions. Each word spoken was a potent mixture of taunting and determination, carried through the thunderous roars of their combat.

Their swords clashed like lightning strikes, their movements a testament to unparalleled skill and agility. As they clashed and parted, elemental energies exploded and swirled around them, creating a canvas of indescribable beauty and devastation.

Their conflict was a visual spectacle, an exhibition of unimaginable power and determination that captured the very essence of mythical battles. The skies above crackled and boomed, bearing witness to the epic struggle between two beings of incredible strength and will.

Amid this tumultuous battle, Arthur and Loki seemed locked in an eternal struggle, their swords clashing with a resounding cacophony that echoed through the heavens.

Arthur's movements were precise, his strikes a fusion of agility and calculated precision. With every swing, he attempted to pierce Loki's defences, aiming to end the battle with swift, deadly blows. He moved with the determination of someone seeking closure for an old wound.

Loki, on the other hand, fought with an unsettling mix of grace and ferocity. His attacks were calculated, designed not just to counter Arthur's but to amplify the chaos around them. He moved with controlled chaos, each manoeuvre designed to disorient and dominate his opponent.

Their banter amidst the clashes was a mix of mockery and taunts. Loki's words dripped with deceit and a thirst for power, his laughter ringing through the battle. Arthur, however, remained focused, determined to put an end to this duel once and for all.

The environment around them reflected their struggle. The clash of their swords sent shockwaves through the air, creating ripples that distorted the landscape. The very essence of magic crackled in the atmosphere, colours swirling and mingling with the elements, creating a dazzling yet fearsome spectacle.

The battle between them unfolded like an ancient saga, a tale of titanic forces clashing, each determined to claim victory. Their struggle, both visually stunning and immensely destructive, seemed to transcend the mere physical realm and delved into the realm of cosmic confrontation.

As the battle raged, it was evident that both opponents were evenly matched. The clash between Arthur and Loki was an explosive display of their sheer will, power, and determination, an otherworldly ballet of two forces locked in a battle that seemed to transcend the limits of mortal conflict.

As the battle reached a temporary stalemate, Loki's sly grin remained plastered on his face, his eyes glittering with amusement. He continued to taunt Arthur, recognizing the immense growth his opponent had achieved during their time apart.

"You've certainly outdone yourself, Arthur. You've grown quite a lot in the short amount of time I haven't seen you," Loki remarked, his words laced with mockery. "Did you encounter some formidable foes on your runaway journey?"

Arthur determined not to let Loki's taunts get under his skin, responded confidently, "Guess all the trouble following me around was you're doing as well, but guess what, I have a surprise for you."

Loki's curiosity piqued, and he inquired, "A surprise?"

With a defiant yell, Arthur called upon his powerful allies, Ignis and Seraphina. The two majestic creatures transformed back to their formidable forms. Ignis regained her fiery dragon appearance, while Seraphina transformed into her fierce chimaera manticore form. With wings outstretched, they took to the skies and joined Arthur, ready to engage in battle alongside him.

Perched on Ignis's back, Arthur charged toward Loki, breaking the stalemate. Now unburdened by the need to maintain his flight using wind magic, he could focus his energy on both magic and swordsmanship simultaneously. This newfound advantage allowed him to rapidly gain the upper hand in the battle.

Loki found himself overwhelmed, struggling to fend off not only Arthur but also the combined might of Ignis and Seraphina. The tide of battle had irrevocably shifted, and the odds were no longer in Loki's favour. As the battle unfolded, the skies became a chaotic battleground, a testament to the relentless determination and newfound power of Arthur and his loyal allies.

The clash between Loki and Arthur, alongside the fierce creatures Ignis and Seraphina, intensified with each passing moment. Loki, initially confident in his abilities, found himself increasingly overwhelmed by the combined forces that opposed him. Arthur's strategic manoeuvres, coupled with the overwhelming strength of his allies, pushed Loki to the brink.

Arthur's prowess in both swordsmanship and magic grew more apparent as he deftly manoeuvred atop Ignis' back, launching precise strikes and powerful spells. Ignis, with her scorching flames, and Seraphina, with her ferocious roars and swift, deadly attacks, created a devastating synergy, relentlessly pressuring Loki.

Despite his cunning and deceptive abilities, Loki struggled to keep up with the combined assault. As the battle reached its apex, Arthur coordinated a well-planned attack alongside Ignis and Seraphina. Ignis, the fiery dragon, let out a deafening roar before unleashing a torrent of flames that ensnared Loki, pinning him in place. 

With one final, resounding strike, Arthur cleaved through Loki's defence and sliced him in two. Loki's body fell, powerless to resist, the battlefield now tainted with his divine blood. Ignis, driven by her fiery instincts, lunged forward, her colossal jaws snapping shut around Loki's fallen form. She consumed him in a blaze of fire and light, leaving nothing but smouldering embers in her wake.

The battlefield fell into an eerie silence as Ignis, having devoured the god of mischief, stood triumphantly with her radiant flames dancing in a triumphant display. Arthur, too, descended to the ground, his sword at rest, and Seraphina returned to her human form.

As the echoes of battle and flames began to dwindle, Arthur, standing amidst the aftermath, gazed at the fading embers of Loki. He couldn't help but recall the memories of Ellie, his beloved. With a blend of solemnity and resolve, Arthur faced the dissipating remnants of Loki and, with a sense of closure and determination, spoke his words, "Hasta la vista, Loki. It was interesting, but this one's for Ellie."

As the climactic battles between Arthur, Ignis, Seraphina, and Loki ended, Vianola and Momo were nearing the conclusion of their fierce struggles somewhere on the chaotic battlefield.

Vianola, with her Elven grace and powerful magical abilities, deftly weaved through the necromancer's dark spells. She summoned the might of her forest and channelled it into a final, radiant blast of magic. The ethereal light pierced through the necromancer's defences, and with a triumphant cry, Vianola's spell struck true, engulfing the dark sorcerer in a blinding burst of brilliance. The necromancer's power waned, and his unholy minions crumbled into ash, ending the threat once and for all.

Simultaneously, Momo, with her swift and precise combat techniques, confronted the formidable death knight. With each clash of their weapons, she whittled down the death knight's strength. The final strike, an expertly timed manoeuvre, found its mark, piercing through the death knight's armour and into its cursed heart. The death knight let out a haunting wail, dissipating into shadowy mist. Momo stood victorious, the dark presence vanquished, and her holy knights rallied around her.

As Arthur stepped away from the battlefield, his appearance was a stark contrast to the tumultuous conflict. His figure was splattered with the remnants of the battle, a mix of dirt, sweat, and blood, yet his eyes glinted with a sense of resolution. The tattered edges of his armour and the worn hilt of his sword told the story of a rigorous conflict, but the determined set of his jaw and unwavering gaze signalled an undeterred spirit.

Standing before the temple entrance, Arthur paused, contemplating the events that had led him to this pivotal moment. But as he was about to step forward, a familiar yet distant voice reverberated in his mind. The voice of the Denier echoed through his thoughts, offering both congratulations and a grave warning.

"Arthur," her voice resonated within him, "before you proceed any further, let me congratulate you on your victory over Loki. Yet, your next opponent is of an entirely different calibre. She ranks among the top three of the mightiest gods, a formidable adversary. Be cautious, and know that you haven't utilized the blessings I granted you. This might be the opportune moment to employ them. From this point on, it's Freya's territory, beyond my sight and voice. Be vigilant, and remember, the gods stand with you. May the force be with you."

Acknowledging the gravity of her words, Arthur closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in the weight of what lay ahead. With a deep breath, he remembered the blessings granted to him by the Denier, gifts he hadn't yet used, and the responsibility they carried.

As Arthur stood at the threshold of the temple, contemplating the Denier's words, a distant memory resurfaced. Recollections from a past life when he engaged in video games flooded his mind. The familiar frustration of forgetting to save before facing challenging boss fights struck a chord, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of the parallel.

"Guess she's not wrong," he mused, considering the unused blessings he'd carried, "saving them for 'the right moment' doesn't hurt to use just one, especially when I have five of them."

Centring himself, Arthur summoned the divinity magic bestowed upon him by the Denier, his hand weaving intricate patterns in the air. With a graceful gesture, a complex and vibrant magic circle materialized, hovering before him. It shimmered with celestial energy, pulsating with an ethereal glow.

The magic circle held an intricate design, brimming with otherworldly power and ancient symbols that resonated with a primal energy. Focusing his intent, Arthur drew the luminous circle onto himself, its radiant light enveloping him before dissolving into his being, leaving a distinctive and intricate stigma mark on his hand—a symbol of the divine strength he now wielded.

Embracing the newfound power coursing through him, Arthur took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. With the Denier's blessings infused within him, he stepped forward into the temple, crossing the threshold into an unknown world teeming with both challenges and possibilities. The doorway closed behind him, the heavy atmosphere of the temple enveloping him as he ventured deeper into the mysterious depths of Freya's domain.

As Arthur advanced further into the heart of the temple, he reached the grand hall, where a silvered beam of moonlight pierced through the ceiling, casting its radiance upon the circular floor below. His heart sank at the chilling sight that greeted him—a scene of horror.

Before him, a grim tableau unfolded; captured elves, ensnared in winding vines, adorned the hall in a grotesque display. These were the same elves he had been relentlessly pursuing. Their entrapment sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a fierce determination within him to end this tyranny.

The air crackled with an eerie silence, the only sound resonating being the echoing cries of the captured. The vines twisted and coiled around the elves, holding them in a suffocating grip, draining their energy and leaving them in a state of agonizing captivity.

And beneath the twisted vines that ensnared the captured elves, there sat Freya, the orchestrator of this sinister tableau, attached to the commutative vines. Her presence exuded an air of malevolence and dark power, a stark contrast to the ethereal beam of sunlight that pierced the hall.

Freya's form was an unsettling sight. Her appearance was both alluring and nightmarish. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back, adorned with delicate golden ornaments. Her skin was pale, and her eyes, a chilling shade of emerald green, gleamed with an otherworldly intelligence. She wore a flowing, ethereal gown that seemed to shift and change like liquid shadow, giving her an unsettling, ever-changing aura.

The atmosphere in the hall was heavy with an oppressive energy, a palpable manifestation of Freya's formidable power. It was as if the very air was thick with her influence, making every step Arthur took feel like a journey through a sinister dreamscape.

Arthur's gaze remained unwavering, his determination and anger fueling his every step. This was the moment he had long been preparing for, the culmination of his journey. With the Denier's blessings coursing through him, he steeled himself to end this malevolent scheme and free the captured elves from their torment.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. With each step, he moved closer to the deity who held sway over this dark domain. The showdown with Freya was inevitable, and Arthur was resolved to face this powerful force head-on, no matter the odds. The fate of the captured elves and the balance of power in this realm hung in the balance.

Arthur's footsteps echoed in the grand hall as he made his way to the circular floor bathed in the silvered beam of moonlight. His eyes were fixed on Freya, who sat amidst the coiled vines in the dark shadow of moonlight, her eyes closed as if in a slumber. The atmosphere crackled with tension as he approached the powerful deity.

In a voice filled with determination, he spoke, "Freya, I've come to bargain."

For a moment, there was only silence, and the weight of the situation hung heavy in the air. Then, Freya slowly opened her emerald green eyes, and a sly smile crept across her lips. Her gaze fixed on Arthur, studying him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

With an air of mocking amusement, she responded, "Bargain? You came to die! This is my territory and soon this kingdom and the entire world will be mine as well, just how it was supposed to be."

Freya's sly smile widened as she opened a magic circle, unleashing a continuous violet electrical charge beam at Arthur. He quickly erected a magic circle to block the beam, but there was no sign of it stopping; it continued to rain down on him with unrelenting force.

Desperation etched on his face, Arthur pushed himself harder, trying to deflect the relentless assault, but Freya was unrelenting. She shifted her tactics and began to throw spears of lightning at him, each strike seeking to pierce his defences.

Arthur's movements became a flurry of dodges, deflections, and blocks, but the sheer number of spears raining down from all sides overwhelmed him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep up, and exhaustion began to take its toll.

A few well-placed spears found their mark, impaling him. In an instant, Arthur's surroundings shifted, and he found himself standing at the entrance of the temple once more. He looked down at himself, checking the wounds, and noticed that one of the marks on his stigma was slowly disappearing.

A wry smile crossed his face as he muttered under his breath, "Man, this is so awesome. Let's try this again."

Arthur once again entered the temple, and the familiar scenery unfolded before him. Determination burned in his eyes as he repeated his words, "Freya, I've come to bargain."

Freya responded as she had before, her words filled with mocking arrogance, "Bargain? You came to die! This is my territory and wait a minute, what is this? An illusion?"

Arthur's tone remained resolute as he replied, "No, this is very real."

Freya, seemingly unfazed by his response, unleashed another barrage of lightning spears from behind him, impaling him before he could react. The world around Arthur shifted, and he found himself once again standing at the entrance to the temple.

As Arthur entered the temple, he repeated his familiar words, "Freya, I've come to bargain."

Freya began to reply with the same arrogant dismissal, "Bargain? You—" but abruptly stopped, her expression changing to one of confusion. "What is happening?"

With a calm determination in his voice, Arthur responded, "Just as you gave divinity magic and helped Loki regain his memories, I also borrowed divinity magic from a certain someone. This is an endless looped time."

Freya's face contorted with repulsion, anger, and annoyance. "You dare?" In an instant, she charged at him, her speed beyond human comprehension, and punched his head off.

Once more, Arthur found himself standing in front of her, repeating the same words, "Freya, I've come to bargain."

Freya, realizing the futility of their predicament, spoke with frustration, "You can't do this forever."

Arthur interjected a sense of solemn determination in his voice, "Actually, I can. This is how things are now. You and I are trapped in this moment endlessly."

Freya, her rage still simmering, retorted, "Then you will spend eternity dying endlessly."

In response, Arthur acknowledged the grim reality, "Yes, but everyone outside who is fighting for me will have their free will and can live peacefully once again."

Freya's expression softened for a moment, contemplating his words. Then, she replied, "But you will suffer."

With a touch of sadness in his voice, Arthur spoke of his old friend, "He is an old friend."

Without further words, Freya unleashed a devastating electric beam, incinerating Arthur in an instant. 

The endless loops continued, each time Arthur called out to Freya, and each time meeting a different gruesome end. In some iterations, he didn't even get the chance to finish calling her name before his demise.

In one of the new loops, the relentless assaults on Arthur persisted. He defended himself valiantly, but with each attack, he grew weaker. Finally, a powerful strike sent him crashing to the ground, injured but not dead.

Freya's voice echoed with confidence, "You will never win."

Gasping for breath but resolute, Arthur replied, "No, but I can lose again and again and again forever. That makes you my prisoner."

Freya, unwilling to accept her captivity, fired a barrage of electric needle bullets at him, her desperation evident. As the loop continued, her tone shifted, demanding, "STOP! Make this stop. Set me free."

With a determined resolve, Arthur repeated his familiar line, "No, I've come to bargain."

Freya, her expression fluctuating between anger and frustration, asked, "What do you want?"

As the relentless loop of time continued, Arthur's voice echoed through the grand hall as he repeated his plea to Freya, "Peace. Recall your monsters outside, free those elves whom you've been draining to regain your strength, and leave this world forever. I hold no grudge against you, and I've already achieved my goal. It's a waste of time to keep fighting you at this point. Do it, and I will break this loop."

Freya, trapped in this eternal cycle, listened to his words with a mix of irritation and exhaustion. She responded, her voice heavy with resignation, "Wake up to reality! Nothing ever goes as planned in this accursed world. The longer you live, the more you realize that the only things that truly exist in this reality are merely pain, suffering, and futility."

She continued, her gaze fixed on Arthur, "Listen, everywhere you look in this world, wherever there is light, there will always be shadows to be found as well. As long as there is a concept of victors, the vanquished will also exist. The selfish intent of wanting to preserve peace initiates war, and hatred is born to protect love. There are nexus causal relationships that cannot be separated."

The weight of her words hung in the air, emphasizing the cyclical and seemingly endless nature of their struggle. Each repetition of the loop felt like a glimpse into the eternal conflict that defined their existence, leaving both Freya and Arthur trapped in a twisted dance of fate.

Arthur couldn't help but express his frustration. "Stop playing Naruto. Do you think you're Madara Uchiha or something? I'm fine sleeping in a dream, so just make your decision. Are you doing it or not? If not, we can continue what we were doing."

Freya, feeling the weight of the situation and the inevitability of her circumstances, had no choice but to yield to Arthur's demands. With a sense of reluctant resignation, she spoke, "Fine, I will recall the monsters, set the elves free, and leave this world. It's better than being imprisoned in an endless time loop with a repulsive person like you."

As Freya carried out her promise, the battlefield outside slowly transformed. The monsters that had terrorized the land began to vanish, and the sounds of battle were gradually replaced by the victorious cheers of Arthur's allies. As the elves were released from their torment, they started to regain their colour, awakening from their drained state.

Finally, Freya opened a dark violet portal and stepped into it, vanishing from Arthur's sight forever. As she disappeared, Arthur let out a sigh of relief and finally broke the time loop, bringing an end to the twisted cycle of suffering and futility.

As Arthur stood on the circular floor, bathed in the soothing moonlight, a sense of relief washed over him. The weight of the recent events, the battles, and the endless time loops had taken their toll. Exhaustion caught up with him, but at that moment, he had one clear goal in mind: to make everything right. He understood that nothing was truly over until it was over.

He gazed at the stigma mark on his hand, realizing that one of the disappearing marks had completely faded away, leaving him with only four remaining. Arthur's determination was unwavering, and he thought to himself, "I guess it's about time I finally make things right, how it was always supposed to be."

With a renewed sense of purpose, Arthur began to form a new, complex magic circle. This formation was far greater in size and intricacy than any he had summoned before. As the magic circle reached completion, he pushed it forward, and before him, an ethereal gate of radiant golden light opened, beckoning him towards a new path.

Arthur found himself in a very familiar setting, a time and place that was etched into his memory. He had travelled over time, back to that fateful day when Ellie had been tragically murdered by Francis. The risks of meddling with time were well-known to him, but his heart was unwilling to accept the inevitability of that tragedy.

Floating in the sky above the castle, he watched his past self, Ellie, and the others with intense focus, searching for any sign of Francis. It didn't take long for him to spot Francis, for the memory of that day was still vivid in his mind.

As he prepared to leap into action like a vigilant predator, ready to pounce on his prey to prevent the tragedy, a voice echoed in his head, abruptly halting his movements.

But just as he was about to make his move, a voice echoed in his head, causing him to pause. "Arthur, can you hear me?" The voice was familiar, and he realized it was Denier.

Responding to her, he said, "Uh, Denier, you found me quicker than I thought."

Denier's voice sounded concerned. "Arthur, I'm not the Denier from your future. Your presence here and the way you're acting suggest that I must have given you my blessing. But I can't imagine that I would have done so for what you're about to do. You probably came here without letting her know. You don't belong here, Arthur. You need to go back."

Nervously trying to feign ignorance, Arthur chuckled and replied, "Ehehe, what do you mean? I wasn't doing anything, yeah, nothing at all."

Denier's tone grew stern. "Arthur, you're terrible at lying. With my blessing, you should know that I can see everything. That's why I'm speaking to you now. I've seen the future changing because you were about to kill him. I know how much you treasure Ellie, but if you save her today, it will create a paradox—a time loop, trapping you within it forever. Or she will still meet her fate, no matter how many times you save her."

Arthur's response was filled with determination as he chuckled, finding a way to break the typical time travel paradox. "So typical, but if I was going to listen to you, I wouldn't be here now, would I? But don't worry; I don't plan on getting trapped here or suffering more than I already have. I have a better idea than that. What if, after she died, I turned back her entire existence to the point where she was fit and fine, and I took her out of this passage of time? Then the past would be the same as before, and nothing will change."

Denier was left speechless, her thoughts racing as she considered the implications of Arthur's plan. This was a solution she had never anticipated.

Arthur, judging from her silence, assumed her response. "I presume you never thought about it, and it's fine to do it, right? Well, I'm doing it either way, even if you refuse."

As the past unfolded once more before Arthur's eyes, he couldn't help but feel a familiar sting in his chest. The pain of that day, Ellie's death, was etched in his memory. He had relived it countless times, but this time, it was different.

After Ellie's tragic end, Arthur waited for Francis to move away from her lifeless form. With precise timing, he seized the opportunity, teleporting to Ellie's side and whisking her away from the castle. The harbour, a place far from the scene of her death, became their destination.

In the quiet harbour, Arthur held Ellie close, her lifeless form cradled in his arms. With a determined expression, he immediately opened a small, palm-sized magic circle. This magical formation's purpose was to reverse time, to take Ellie back to the moment before her life was marred by tragedy.

The magic flowed, and Ellie's form slowly transformed. Her injuries began to heal, and the ravages of death were undone. As the seconds ticked by, the first ethereal rays of the morning sun began to touch her peaceful form.

Ellie's eyes fluttered open, and the world welcomed her with its gentle embrace. She found herself lying in Arthur's arms, unharmed and alive. It was as though the tragedy had never occurred.

As Ellie opened her eyes, her gaze met Arthur's tear-filled eyes. She was disoriented and confused about the situation, not understanding what had transpired. The last memory she held was searching for Momo, and now she found herself in Arthur's arms, witnessing his emotional outpour.

Feeling his tight embrace, Ellie stroked Arthur's head gently to comfort him. She softly inquired, "Arthur, what happened? Did we find Momo?"

Arthur, still emotional and overwhelmed by the reunion, managed to reply, "Yes, we found her, and she's safe. But I can't explain everything right now. We need to leave this place."

Arthur's gaze shifted to the stigma on his hand, which now displayed only two out of the initial five marks. With a sense of determination, he opened a magic circle similar in complexity and size to the one he had used to arrive at this point. Once again, a gate appeared before them.

Ellie, her confusion evident, questioned Arthur, "Did you discover a new magic or something?"

Arthur smiled through the lingering tears and responded, "You could say that. Come with me; I'll show you an interesting place."

He extended his hand towards Ellie, who, though still bewildered, decided to trust him. She took his hand, and together they stepped through the gate. As they traversed the passage of time, they emerged in a place that was completely new to Ellie but very familiar to Arthur, setting the stage for their next new adventure.

Will be Continued in the Next Volume?

Where did Arthur take her?

How would those marks be used?

To find out,

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