Arthur awoke with a groan. His limbs were weak, sore, and his head pounded viciously. Yet, strangely, he was warm—comfortably so. He felt no urge to move, no inclination to fight against the drowsiness pulling him back under as sleep claimed him again.
Many times, he stirred, catching glimpses of Officer Reftia standing over him, watching. But before he could muster the strength to speak, darkness dragged him under once more.
And there, in that endless half-dream, he was almost happy—content to watch his family from the corner of their old living room, a silent ghost. He could've stayed that way his entire life.
But eventually, his body recovered enough for him to stay awake.
"Ahh… fuck," he muttered, voice hoarse as he forced himself into a sitting position.
Across from him, Officer Reftia sat by the fire, cooking meat over her daggers. The blades sizzled as they absorbed the heat, acting as makeshift pans. She didn't even glance up.
"You're finally awake, huh?"
"Yeah…" Arthur groaned, rubbing his temples. "How long was I out?"
"A week."
He froze. "Bullshit."
She met his gaze briefly, then looked away. "It wasn't your injuries that did it."
A creeping unease settled in his stomach. "…Then what?"
Reftia didn't answer right away. Instead, she took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the dagger in her grip. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter—calmer. But there was a weight behind it.
"Tell me something first, Arthur," she said. "How am I still alive?"
He blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What? Healing blood, remember?"
Her grip on the dagger tightened. "I've seen how effective your blood is. It shouldn't have been enough to heal a wound like that."
Arthur hesitated. "…I figured out how to make it stronger. I infused my blood with mana."
She nodded, as if that answer should have been enough. For a moment, he thought she would let it go.
Then—
"How did you have any mana left?"
His breath hitched. Somehow, he knew—deep down—that admitting the truth would be dangerous. So he forced a grin, throwing on his usual charm. "You know me, been training my mana efficie-"
A dagger whistled past his ear, embedding itself into the wall behind him.
"Don't lie."
Her voice was dangerously low.
Arthur swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to the remaining dagger still in her hand. 'How many of those does she even have?'
"I, uh…" He let out a nervous chuckle. "I used my natural mana."
Reftia's expression darkened. "You mean life mana?"
Arthur stilled. That title sounded… worse.
"Uh—maybe?"
The second dagger slammed into the ground between them.
"You fucking idiot."
She shot to her feet, her whole body trembling with rage. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? You could've died, Arthur! You almost did! Life mana isn't some backup reservoir you can just tap into! Do you even realize—if you'd used it all, that would've been it! No coming back! You were barely hanging on for the past week! I had to force-feed you monster blood just to keep you alive!"
Arthur recoiled at the outburst, but anger flared inside him, just as fierce.
"So fucking what?" he snapped, his composure cracking. "You nearly died for me! You want me to start lecturing you about how idiotic that was? I'm alive. You're alive. So just drop it, alright?"
Reftia clenched her jaw, nostrils flaring. She looked like she wanted to say more—to keep screaming at him—but, thankfully, she controlled herself.
She sat back down with a sharp breath, turning her attention back to the cooking meat.
Arthur exhaled, trying to shake the lingering frustration from his chest.
"…Where are we, anyway?" he asked, desperate for a change of topic.
"The lowest level," she muttered. "Right before the boss floor."
His stomach dropped. "Wait—what? How the hell did we get here?"
Reftia smirked. "Simple. I'd hide you, kill everything in our path, then set up camp. Rinse and repeat for the past week."
She reached into her pouch and pulled out four small vials, each filled halfway with dark red liquid.
Arthur's eye twitched.
"…You stole my blood."
She shrugged. "Had to make you pull your weight somehow."
He let out a heavy sigh. 'Does she even know what consent is?'
"So while I was unconscious, naturally recovering my life mana, you were busy slaughtering everything in sight." 'And stealing my blood like a pervert' he added silently to himself.
She nodded.
"…Fuck, you must be strong."
A smug grin spread across her face.
"I am."
Arthur groaned, flopping back onto the floor.
For a while, there was only the crackling fire between them. Then, without looking at her, Arthur asked the same question that had been on his mind since, well, a week ago.
"Hey… why did you join the rebellion?"
Reftia didn't answer immediately.
"What if I don't want to tell you?" she asked.
"I'd say—remember, I saved your life."
She snorted. "And I saved yours."
"Yeah, but I already told you why I signed up. Gotta make it even."
Reftia sighed heavily, twirling the dagger between her fingers. "…It's not a great story."
Arthur stayed silent, waiting.
"I was a teacher," she said at last. "When the rebellion started, I didn't think much of it. I figured it wouldn't affect us. I mean… I taught kids. No way they'd get drafted, right?"
A bitter chuckle left her lips.
"But I was wrong. By the end of the year, every single one of my students was dead. Killed by the Empire's soldiers."
Her voice cracked.
"So I signed up. Because I was sick of seeing children die before adults, it's not right."
The weight of her words pressed down on them both, suffocating the space between them.
'He didn't want to pry against the logic. After all, despite all of this, she was sent to investigate him for being a spy. And well, he was a spy.'
Instead he let out a small, sad smile. "I wish I had a teacher like you when I was a kid. Maybe I would've turned out better than I have. Maybe I wouldn't have made the same mistakes."
Reftia scoffed. "You turned out alright, Arthur."
He wasn't so sure.
For the first time in a long time, he thought about home—about his little sister. About the life he used to live. Well, the life the old Arthur used to live. It was getting harder to be able to differentiate between the two lives. He remembered how he treated the people around him, the way he acted. The pain he went through alone...forgotten.
It was funny. When he had first arrived in this world, he had felt nothing at being exiled. The only thing that had hurt was being accused of something he didn't do. That had been the old Arthur, not him.
But now… now he missed it.
Missed them.
Reftia was oblivious to his thoughts. "So?" she asked. "When the war's over, what do you want to do?"
Arthur blinked. "What, after the war?"
"Obviously."
He frowned, thinking. "Well, I want to go to school." That was the reason why he had begged for a change in his sentence. So he'd gain an opportunity to go to the academy in two years. So he could finally get stronger.
Reftia raised an eyebrow. "And after that?"
He opened his mouth—then paused.
He… hadn't really thought about it. Survival had always been his only goal.
"…I don't know."
Reftia smirked. "Then think of something."
So he did.
It took a moment, but when the answer came to him, he smiled—something warm and certain settling in his chest.
"I got it," he said.
Reftia leaned forward. "Well?"
"I want to be a traveling author."
Silence.
Then—
She burst into laughter.
Arthur scowled. "What? It's a good dream!"
Still chuckling, she shook her head. "No, no—it is."
She met his eyes, a small smile playing on her lips, barely holding back another wave of laughter.
"It's a really good dream, Arthur."
He smiled. "Imagine it Reftia. I'd get to explore the world. I'd see new things every day, I'd get to travel in peace. Living life on my own terms. I'd have no responsibilities apart from putting food in my belly and finding a rock to rest my head. And maybe...on the rare burst of creativity, I'd write a few tales of my own. I call that a good dream to have."
She nodded again. "I guess it does sound nice. It sounds....freeing."
................
The next day he and Officer Reftia stood side by side, weapons ready. Before them stretched the final cavern that would lead to the boss room.
In his hand he gripped the spear he had discarded for Ikaris a week ago when fighting those Direwolves. He was lucky Officer Reftia had picked it up for him.
"Ready Arthur?"
He let out a short laugh. "Fuck no."
She snorted. "With that attitude you'd be better of as bait."