Arthur followed Officer Reftia to the mess hall, the scent of stale bread and salted meat lingering in the air. His schedule for the day was light—morning training and an overnight guard shift. Compared to how his life had been lately, it almost felt... peaceful.
'How sad is that?' he mused. 'I consider an overnight guard shift in enemy territory, while being a spy, peaceful.'
He shook his head at the thought and dug into his meal. Not long after, Noah slumped into the seat across from him, muttering darkly under his breath.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"
"Mat," Noah grumbled.
"Ahhh." That was explanation was enough.
"What about Mat?" Officer Reftia asked, clearly unaware. She had never lived in the Unit 7 barracks—fortunate for her.
"He snores," Arthur replied simply.
"That's it?"
"No," Noah cut in, voice flat. "It's really bad." He ran a hand through his hair, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. "It sounds like a freight train fucking a lawnmower."
Arthur choked on his water. Coughing, he shot Noah a look of pure disbelief.
"What?" Noah asked, feigning innocence.
Arthur wiped his mouth, still half in shock. "Nothing, just... I never knew you had such a talent for words."
Noah snorted. "Had plenty of time to think about it while I lay there, suffering."
"That bad, huh?" Reftia mused, unimpressed. "So why don't you do something about it? If it were me, I'd just do rolling ball."
Arthur and Noah blinked at her.
"…What?" Arthur asked.
Reftia leaned forward, looking incredulous. "You don't know what rolling ball is?"
They shook their heads.
She clicked her tongue. "Amateurs. You strip the person down to their underpants, roll them in something sticky—tree sap works well—then coat them in whatever's available. Add another layer of sap, repeat until they wake up."
Arthur sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, I don't carry a liter of tree sap with me, and I can't think of a good replacement."
Noah, however, smirked. It was a slow, creeping expression, one that sent a prickle of unease down Arthur's spine.
"Oh, don't worry," Noah said. "I've already got an idea."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"
The smirk widened. There was something decidedly sinister about it.
"You'll know soon enough."
Arthur exhaled slowly. Well, at least I know never to piss off Noah. Somehow, he had the distinct impression that whatever his green-eyed friend was planning, it would be something… creatively cruel.
...........
Arthur did find out what Noah had done.
He and Commander Scarlet—disguised as Officer Mara—had sparring drills. While she focused on Noah, Arthur trained alone. Neither she nor Officer Reftia had much skill with spears, leaving him to his own devices.
The practice spear was alive in his hands, an extension of his will. He moved with a quiet, growing confidence, each thrust sharper, each swing deadlier. The weapon snapped back and forth under his control, an almost instinctive rhythm guiding his strikes. Strange... He felt more in tune with it than before, as if the spear itself had become more responsive.
Status.
NAME: ARTHUR GRAVEWALKER
AGE: 14 YEARS OLD
RACE: HUMAN
CLASS:
SPEARMAN: *LVL1 (Adept) (Imperial ***) (1.0%)LVL1 (Basic) (Falling Sun style) (12.0%)
SKILLS:
Mana Boost (Lvl 2) (98%)Fireclaw (Lvl 1) (12%)
AURA: LOCKED
BLESSINGS:
Hades' Will - PossessionSun's Concept - Regenerative Blood
AFFINITIES:
Blood, Earth (Locked)
Fire (Lvl 2) (11%)
STATS: RANK E-
Strength: E-
Agility: E-
Stamina: E-
Intelligence: E-
Mana Capacity: E-
Charm: F
[ Falling Sun Style (****) (LVL 1 – 3.0%) ]
First Move – Shooting Star (Lvl 1) Proficiency (10.0%)
Second Move ???
?????
Arthur grinned. Finally, His Imperial Spear Style had ranked up. He wasn't sure what the stars next to it meant, but that was a problem for another time.
His Shooting Star proficiency was still low, and if Officer Reftia was right, skill levels didn't just determine strength—they also dictated mana efficiency. And that move was a mana drain. He couldn't train it openly either. No one but Syar knew of it, and with Commander Duleryon here, it was a card best kept hidden.
And then there was Officer Reftia.
Despite their growing camaraderie, Arthur couldn't trust her completely. Her kindness felt real—but so did her mission. She was a rebel, assigned to watch them.
It wasn't fair. Not trusting someone who saved your life never is.
"Hey, Arthur."
He turned, spear resting against his shoulder. "Yes, Officer Mara?"
"Want to spar?" Scarlet asked, rolling her shoulders. "I can't teach you much, but I can give you some experience."
Arthur grinned. "Why not?"
He lunged without warning. No hesitation. No buildup. Just pure aggression.
Arthur flowed between forms, each step lithe, each transition seamless. But no matter how fast he struck, no matter how fluid his footwork, she was faster. Commander Scarlet deflected every blow with effortless grace, her sword flicking in and out of range, forcing him to defend when he wanted to attack.
"You've improved," she noted, knocking his spear aside with a casual flick of her wrist.
"You know it hurts when you say that," Arthur muttered, already short on breath. "You're not even trying."
Scarlet smirked. "Not yet. You're not at my level—but one day, maybe. For now, think about how to use your talents to your advantage."
Arthur hesitated—then smirked. 'My talents, huh? If she insists…'
He darted forward, on purpose leaving himself open to a horizontal slash that should've been easy to parry.
Scarlet's eyes widened.
Too late.
She moved to pull back, but Arthur was already inside her reach. He took the cut across his chest, gritting his teeth as the blade skimmed his ribs—
—but his spear was already thrusting forward.
He activated Fireclaw.
Four arcs of flame erupted from his weapon, slicing through the air toward her.
Scarlet's body blurred. One moment she was there—then she wasn't.
Arthur barely had time to curse before pain flared across his chest. The wound burned, his body screaming in protest—then it stopped.
Warmth flooded his veins. His Regenerative Blood kicked in, sealing the wound almost instantly. His blood had a faint glow, a lingering trace of power beneath his skin, it wasn't as dramatic as when he overloaded it with life mana, but it was definitely there.
Scarlet's voice cut through the quiet. "That was good," she admitted. "Against a lesser opponent, it would've worked."
Arthur sighed. 'If only she were a lesser opponent. What is it with my life and strong people wanting to fuck it over?'
Then her expression darkened. "I didn't know you could regenerate, Arthur." Her tone was light, almost casual—but her eyes gleamed dangerously.
Arthur swallowed. "Ahh, about tha—"
"It would've been nice to know," she continued, "before you ran off to the battlefield like a vengeful ghost, getting yourself half-killed rescuing people throughout the entire night. Alone."
Arthur winced. "It happened in the dungeon—my ability evolved."
Scarlet studied him for a long moment. "You sure you're not blessed by Asclepius?"
Arthur shook his head. "Pretty sure." But truthfully, he didn't know. Unlike other gods, Sun's true identity was still a mystery to him. Whoever Sun was, he was undoubtedly strong. His short talk with Hades told him that much.
Scarlet nodded—and then a scream tore through the air.
A high-pitched, pained scream.
Arthur tensed, spear raised, ready to see soldiers climbing over the walls or the sound of an approaching army. Instead Noah came jogging out of the barracks, grinning like a man who had just committed a war crime.
Arthur's stomach dropped. "What did you do?"
Noah's grin widened. "Got my revenge."
Seconds later, Mat staggered into view, his face twisted in fury. "You bastard!" he growled, stalking toward Noah with murder in his eyes.
Scarlet stepped between them, eyes sharp. "Mat. What happened?"
Mat inhaled slowly, visibly calming himself. "I was taking a piss," he said through clenched teeth, "minding my own business."
Arthur and Noah exchanged a glance.
"…And?" Scarlet prompted.
Mat's dark eye's twitched. "It froze."
Scarlet frowned. "What froze?"
Mat's eye twitched harder. His fists clenched. His voice dropped to a near-growl. "My piss. While I was pissing. Even the piss that had yet to come out."
There was a long silence. Then realization hit.
Arthur collapsed, Noah followed a second later.
Both of them rolled on the ground, shaking with uncontrollable laughter. Arthur pointed at Mat with a trembling hand, barely managing to choke out a single word between gasping breaths.
"Bloodpiss!"
And then he was gone, lost in rampant fits of laughter.
.......
By nightfall, Bloodpiss had safely settled as Mat's new nickname.
The story of Noah's prank had spread like wildfire, passing from soldier to soldier. By the time the sun had set, Unit 7 regarded Noah as a silent hero—someone who had done what no one else dared. He had stood up against Mat's snoring.
Arthur, by association, had also gained some prestige within the Unit as creator of Mat's new title. An accomplice in poetic justice.
It had been a good day. He needed days like these more often.
Arthur walked the Fort walls on patrol, the chill of the evening air pressing against his skin. He wasn't alone—other soldiers patrolled with him, rotating between different shifts. But outside of Unit 7, none of them spoke to him.
The soldiers from Commander Duleryon's forces only talked among themselves. The undercover soldiers—like him—still hated him. Unlike his own unit, they still showed the same disgust he had faced when he first joined.
Arthur exhaled softly, glancing up at the stars. It felt strange to say, but it had been awhile since he had been hated again. In the old base, he was regarded with a silent respect for his actions. His own unit had warmed up to him. Then he had left with Syar who had turned up out of the blue to train him, and then disappeared just as quickly.
Then there was the dungeon. Just him and Officer Reftia, working together to survive.
It still hurt him. To be hated for something outside of his control. To be alienated for a crime he hadn't even had a say in.
But now, at least…he had someone.
Unit 7.
It wasn't as bad as before. Not like those days when no one spoke to him—when the only thing keeping him sane was training and spite. And of course the occasional conversation with Marsh.
Arthur sighed, rolling his shoulders as he continued his rounds. 'I wonder what Marsh is up to…'
The boy had been his only friend back then, his one solace. Maybe because he hadn't known who Arthur was. Maybe because he hadn't cared. Either way, it had kept him from losing himself, at a time where he had been thrust into this world.
Looking back it felt…funny.
It had been half a year since his transfer. Half a year, yet Arthur felt like he had lived and died twice already. Each time, a new man returned. There had been Reshi….Then an Arthur who had no idea what was going on, being beaten and passed along the whims of life. And now there was him.
Arthur wasn't an introvert by nature. He had just…become one, out of necessity. 'How many times would I have to die till I join the academy and leave this place?' he mused to himself.
'I should check on Marsh if I get the chance.'
Unlike Noah—who had been specially transferred into General Thanason's personal squad—Marsh had stayed behind. The base was still probably fortifying and preparing for any further attacks. Though…now that General Thanason had covertly captured Fort Lanai, it shouldn't happen
A voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?"
Arthur tensed, spinning on instinct—only to find Officer Reftia standing there, her silver hair illuminated by the moonlight. It gave her an almost otherworldly glow, as if she had been carved from the night sky itself.
He relaxed slightly. "Nothing much," he admitted. "Just my own life."
She stepped closer, falling into stride beside him. "You know," she mused, "you never told me about your life before the army."
"I know."
She waited.
Arthur remained silent.
After a beat, she exhaled through her nose. "So," she murmured, "it's like that, huh?"
His brow furrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You told me you were forced into the army." Her voice was soft, careful. "But at the same time…you hated your life before it, didn't you?"
Arthur said nothing. He hadn't had a life before the army. Not as Arthur anyway.
Reftia didn't push. Instead, she simply nodded, as if that answer was enough. Then, after a moment:
"Anyway," she said, her tone shifting briskly. "Let me get to the reason I'm here."
Arthur raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting.
"Join me, Arthur."
He froze. "Uhhh."
She smiled faintly. "Transfer to my unit. I'll be leaving soon."
"…Why?"
"Because you're useful," she said simply. "You work hard. You're honest. You're surprisingly good at combat for someone with healing abilities. I could make better use of you than this place could."
Arthur stayed silent, weighing the choice.
Going with her meant gaining access to more information. It would allow him to further his own goals, to see the rebel side of things firsthand and provide more information and insights.
But it would also mean fighting.
Killing soldiers on his own side while pretending to be a rebel himself.
Reftia must have sensed his hesitation. "I know you were forced into this," she said. "But you could do some real good here."
Arthur inhaled slowly. "…Can I have some time to think about it?"
She nodded. "Sure. I'll be leaving in a few days. Get back to me before then, okay?"
"…Okay."
"Oh, one more thing."
Arthur blinked. "Yeah?"
She reached into her coat, pulling out…something.
It was dark. Shifting. He couldn't make out any clear details, but the moment she placed it in his hands, he felt it.
It was solid—yet silky. Rough—yet smooth. Heavy—yet light as air.
It was wrong.
Arthur grimaced. "What is this?"
Reftia smiled. "Put it on your face."
He stared at her.
"…Come on," she urged. "Just do it."
Reluctantly—and with multiple grimaces—he lifted the strange material and placed it over his face.
Immediately, a notification flared in his vision.
[Mask of Shadows – Rare Grade Relic]
Does the user wish to soulbind?
[Y/N]
Arthur exhaled. "Yes."
[Soulbinding in progress… Please provide a name.]
Arthur hesitated. Mask of Shadows already sounded good. No need to change it.
"Mask of Shadows."
[Mask of Shadows has been accepted. Soulbinding complete.]
[Mask of Shadows – Rare Grade Relic]
Conceals user's identity.Allows user to see perfectly in the dark.
Arthur whistled, impressed. "Not bad…why give it to me?"
Reftia laughed. "You earned it. After all—you did give the lethal blow to the dungeon boss, didn't you?"
Arthur blinked. "Wait, you saw that? He hoped she hadn't seen him use Shooting star. That was one car he hoped he still had hidden from her.
"I suspected, after all, it wasn't me that killed him." She smirked. "And now I know."
He shook his head in disbelief. "Thank you, Officer Reftia."
She nodded. "Just think about my offer, okay?"
Then she turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.
Arthur exhaled, equipping the mask. Instantly, his vision sharpened—everything bathed in a perfect, crisp clarity. It fit perfectly over his face, aligning with his features like a second skin. Not heavy. Not clunky.
'Truly like a shadow.'
A smile tugged at his lips beneath the mask. 'That's two Rare Grade relics now.'