"Reshi, huh. I think you might be the first Reshi I've ever met. Is it a common name on your side of the empire?"
Arthur laughed, her innocent curiosity catching him off guard in the best way. "No… I guess it isn't. What about yours?"
"Seraline."
"That's too long. I'm renaming you."
"What?!" she cried out, her outrage comically childlike.
"Sera. That's your new name now."
"Fuck off!" she shot back, indignant.
"Calm down, Sera," he replied, grinning wide enough to hurt.
She muttered something under her breath, her tone a low rumble of irritation. Arthur chuckled quietly, suddenly grateful for the temporary truce. The silence stretched for a moment before she broke it in a softer voice.
"How old are you?"
"What… you trying to check if I'm legal?"
Sera gasped in outrage, and Arthur couldn't help but laugh harder. Pissing her off was oddly satisfying.
"You tell me first, Sera."
"I asked first."
"Yeah, but you got the first question last time. It's my turn."
Her silence lasted for a heartbeat before a faint laugh echoed across the darkness between them.
"I'm sixteen."
Arthur blinked, surprised. Sixteen? Such power at that age? She hadn't been in the novel—he would've remembered someone like her. Taking down a commander with a single arrow? That was legendary.
"What?" Her voice turned brittle. "Feeling bad
you stabbed a kid?"
Arthur burst into laughter again. "You know I'm fourteen, right?"
"W-what?" Sera exclaimed. For the first time, she sounded genuinely shocked.
"You're fourteen?! What the fuck is up with your life that you're here at fourteen?"
Arthur shrugged, though he knew she couldn't see him. "I could say the same about you. Tell you what—let's make a deal. I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours. That way, when one of us dies, at least our stories won't die with us."
The silence returned, heavy this time. Arthur smiled faintly, knowing she was mulling it over. They both understood the reality of their situation—he had no chance of beating her. Sharing stories felt pointless, maybe even stupid. But for some reason, he didn't care.
"Okay," she finally said. "But you go first. And you have to tell the truth."
"I will. Promise." Arthur took a deep breath.
"Well, you already know my name is Reshi. I joined the army young, as you can guess. My parents couldn't afford higher education, and, well, I wanted to be a hero. Thought it'd be amazing to fight for my country. At first, it was. Felt like I was doing something honorable, something heroic, b—"
"But you didn't know what you were signing up for," she finished softly.
"Yeah," Arthur exhaled. For some reason, it felt good to finally talk about it. Maybe because he figured one of them would be dead by the end of this anyway.
"Then the fighting started. I was good at it. Really good. Made friends, too. Well, one real friend—Merlin. We hated each other in training." He chuckled, but the sound was hollow.
"Was that the person you were with?"
"Him? No, that's not Merlin." Arthur's voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper. "Merlin's dead. Died a while ago. A part of me went with him when he died. Bastard decided to be a hero. Saved all of us."
Arthur's tone turned harsh, the words coming faster now, like they'd been bottled up for too long. "We were sent on a recon mission. Should've been easy. But the higher-ups screwed up—big time. Sent us into an active war zone. We got annihilated. Merlin… he drew their attention away so we could escape. The army bombed the site right after."
Sera didn't say anything for a while. He could tell she had questions about the bombs, but she didn't ask. After all, this had all happened on a different planet, it must've not made complete sense to her. Bombs hadn't been used here for hundreds of years.
"My turn," she said quietly. "I didn't join the army like you. I was forced into the rebellion. Forced to fight against the Thoracen Empire."
"I don't get it," Arthur interrupted. "If you don't want to fight, why don't you just… not?"
Sera laughed bitterly. "If only I could. They've got my family. We used to be nobles before the rebellion, but we refused to fight. So they imprisoned my family. When I underwent my trial, they told me if I wanted them to live, I had to fight."
Arthur felt something twist in his chest. Sympathy. They'd both been forced into this war, different sides of the same coin.
"I was forced to fight, forced to train, forced to kill. I don't want to be part of this war, Reshi. But I have to. Do you understand?"
Arthur was quiet. He understood perfectly.
"What's your full name, Sera?"
"Seraline Morella."
"Well, Lady Seraline Morella, if I survive this shit, I'll try to free your family. If you survive, well, there's nothing I want really. But if I think of something, I'll let you know."
"But how will you let me know if you're—"
"I'll let you know, Sera," he cut her off firmly.
There was a long silence before her soft voice broke it. "Okay."
They both fell silent again, taking comfort in the strange companionship they'd found in the middle of the chaos.
"Hey, Sera."
"Yes?"
"For what it's worth, you're insanely strong."
Arthur could feel her smile through the darkness.
"Do you have magic?" she asked after a pause.
"Nope. Haven't undergone my trial yet."
"What?!" she shrieked. "You stabbed me, and you don't even have magic?"
"Yup," he replied smugly.
She laughed—a real laugh this time, unrestrained and full of life. "Man, Reshi. I'm glad I met you. We could've been good friends."
Arthur snorted. "Go to sleep first. We'll need it tomorrow."
"This'll be my first time sleeping with a man," she teased.
"Shut up," Arthur snapped, flushing. "Stay on your side of the crater."
She laughed again, softer this time. "Goodnight, Reshi."
"Goodnight, Sera."
"Hey Reshi?"
"What", he snapped.
"Make sure to keep your promise okay?"
"Why ar-"
"Okay?" She interrupted.
"I will. Now let me sleep Sera."
Arthur closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion take over.
Arthur awoke with a jolt, scrambling to his feet. Around him, the ground trembled, a deep rumbling echoing in his chest.
'The battle. It's starting.'
His first thought was of Sera. He turned toward her side of the crater, his heart pounding. He half-expected to see an arrow flying toward him, her eyes alight with determination. But when he looked, there was no attack.
There was no movement at all in fact.
Arthur's stomach dropped as his gaze fell on her still form. Her once-pristine armor was shattered, her body crumpled against the crater wall. A splintered blade jutted grotesquely from her stomach, its edges crusted with dried blood.
"No," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He stumbled forward, his legs moving on their own.
Dropping to his knees beside her, he reached out with trembling fingers, pressing them against her neck. He searched desperately for a pulse, for any sign of life.
Nothing.
Her purple eyes stared blankly past him, their light extinguished. Her white hair, so striking the night before, now framed her lifeless face in a cruel mockery of peace.
"You idiot," Arthur growled, his voice breaking. "You should've used the healing potion on yourself…"
But even as the words left his mouth, he knew they were futile. A mid-grade potion wouldn't have saved her, not with a wound like that. The blade had splintered inside her, tearing through her organs. She must've known she was beyond saving.
Arthur clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. She'd chosen to die. She'd given him the potion, made him promise to keep going, and accepted her fate.
"You planned this…" he whispered. "You knew…"
His vision blurred, his chest tightening with a grief that felt far too heavy for someone he'd only just met. But Sera hadn't been just anyone. She'd been one of the few he had actually spoken with since arriving to this planet.
She'd been a warrior. A noble. A girl who didn't want to fight but did anyway because she had to. She'd been someone who laughed in the face of despair, someone who could've been his friend if the world weren't so cruel.
Arthur reached for her bow, the weapon that had brought down his commander, and gently laid it across her body.
"I'll keep my promise, Sera," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the distant sounds of battle.
He stayed there for a moment longer, staring down at her still form, before forcing himself to stand. The battle was raging now, the distant clamor growing louder. Arthur's jaw tightened. He had to move.
As he climbed out of the crater, the chaos of the battlefield hit him like a wave. Soldiers clashed in a storm of steel and screams, the air thick with the acrid scent of blood and mana.
Arthur moved like a shadow, slipping through the fray. His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish, but his instincts drove him forward.
Ahead, an enemy soldier stalked through the chaos, a spear gripped tightly in his hands. Arthur approached silently, his movements precise. In one fluid motion, he snapped the man's neck.
The body crumpled at his feet, and Arthur bent to pick up the spear. He'd never wielded one before, but it felt… right. The weight, the balance—it was as if it had been made for him.
Hefting the weapon, Arthur threw himself into the fight. The spear spun in his hands, a blur of motion that deflected strikes and killed with deadly precision. He knocked aside a sword thrust, driving the spearhead through his attacker's throat.
But the exhilaration was fleeting. Each kill, instead of feeling like a victory, twisted his stomach further. He couldn't stop thinking about Sera—about her laughter, her bitterness, her quiet strength.
'She didn't even want to fight. How many like her have I killed that didn't want to fight either?'
Snarling, Arthur pressed on, the spear becoming an extension of his rage. His movements were brutal, efficient, cutting down anyone who stood in his path. But no matter how many enemies he killed, the guilt lingered, gnawing at the edges of his mind.
'It's not my fault, he told himself, over and over. It's not my fault.'
By the time he reached his side of the battlefield, his arms felt like lead, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. Blood, some of it his own, most of it not, streaked his armor and skin.
He stumbled into his unit's building, his body screaming for rest. He didn't expect anyone to be there, so when he saw Noah lounging on one of the beds, his green eyes widening in surprise, Arthur nearly jumped.
"You're alive?" Noah asked, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief.
Arthur managed a weary smile. "Surprise."
To his astonishment, Noah threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the small space. "Good, good. Now I can still kill you myself."
Arthur snorted, dragging himself to an empty bed. "What're you doing here? Why aren't you out there?"
Noah held up his injured arm, moving it experimentally. "Mana burst. Leaves me useless for twenty-four hours. Can't fight properly today."
Arthur scoffed. "You're a wimp. I've never even used magic, and I'm still fighting."
Noah growled, but the corners of his mouth
twitched upward. "What about the archer? Did you kill her?"
Arthur froze, lying down so Noah couldn't see his face. He stared at the ceiling, his chest tight.
"Yeah…" he said softly. "She's dead."
Noah studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he leaned back, letting out a long breath. "You really don't fucking die Arthur."
Arthur didn't respond. His mind was back in the crater, with Sera's lifeless body and her quiet, haunting words.
"Make sure to keep your promise, alright?"
"I will," he whispered under his breath, closing his eyes.
But even as sleep claimed him, the guilt and grief lingered, heavy as the spear still gripped in his hand, as if it was some sort of talisman.
Noah looked at Arthur incredulously. He thought that Arthur had died. He had seen the white-haired noble shoot into the sky, and then fall and disappear in a huge explosion. Everyone had seen it. Arthur shot into the air like a bullet, and then dragged the MageKnight to the ground as he fell, like he was some demon dragging the archer to hell. They were forced to retreat soon after. He didn't want to, but Officer Mara had dragged him back. His legs had been severely injured and his shoulder was losing a dangerous amount of blood. But still, he had to be forced to return. It still irked him, but he realised that he actually didn't want Arthur to die. The feeling left him conflicted.
But yet again, Arthur had returned from the impossible. Proving him wrong again. Sure he looked more weary, his armour practically crumbling of his skin. He looked more like a street urchin than a noble. But he survived. Noah smiled, leaning back on his bed.
'Damn bastard won't die.'