Chapter 67
Arthur looked down from above, observing the battles taking place within each dome below.
He was particularly impressed with Lucas, who had defeated Austin.
Wearing an impressed expression, he spoke to the woman standing beside him.
She had black hair tied tightly into a ponytail and red eyes that seemed to have blood flowing within them, exuding tremendous power as a Moon-class elite.
She was Arthur's secretary.
"That boy is impressive," he said.
"He has trained his body to its maximum limit, and his mana control is beyond what most—or anyone—can achieve. It seems his clan's blood runs deep within him."
Her name was Camilla. "Yes," she replied, "but it seems he was holding back. Do you think he has broken through to the Silver stage?"
Arthur shook his head. "No, but he's just a step away from entering it. His clan possesses a forbidden technique—one I don't fully understand—that helps them increase their strength. That must be the reason for his rapid growth."
Camilla showed a confused expression and questioned, "Wouldn't it be helpful if we had it as well?"
Arthur chuckled. "That's exactly what I said to my father. He told me to investigate before asking for it. The result? Many years ago, my father acquired the technique and tried giving it to our elites. All of them died. It seems only their clan can cultivate it. I conducted deeper research and found that even within their clan, only members of the patriarch's family could survive reaching the third stage—and none ever broke past that point. The death toll among their clan members was extraordinarily high. The only saving grace was that their clan bred like hell. They must have super sperm or something."
Camilla laughed at that. "Is that why he's the last member?"
"I don't know, but maybe. Still, they produced this talent, even if he's nearing the limit of what his abilities allow. For now, he's stronger than Austin. Anyway, I've chosen him, Austin, and that Lotus Clan girl."
Camilla answered, "Understood, sir. Anything else?"
Arthur looked down and replied, "Accept the request from the Queen of the Eldoria Kingdom."
"You're sending this group?" Camilla questioned.
"Yeah, it's the best way to test their strength. Besides, handling a Saint-class demon together should be easy for them. Or they'll fail," Arthur answered casually. "Don't worry—even though we classify that beast as Saint-class, in truth, even a Moon-class or two can handle this mission."
"Okay, I'll send the message," she replied.
Soon, the battles ended, and everyone was instructed to leave the arena.
At the Sky Hospital, Austin lay on a bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Before long, the door opened, and Blake entered.
Austin didn't turn his head to look, keeping his eyes fixed upward.
With a smirk, Blake questioned, "You got beaten pretty badly, huh."
Austin chuckled. "You were right—defeating Lucas without using my Four-Leaf Clover Eyes was impossible. He was holding back greatly. I could feel it, like he wanted to go all out but couldn't. He's someone I'd like to push forward to keep up with."
Blake let out a sigh. "But who," he asked, his voice low and deliberate, "is Lucas really trying to keep up with?"
Austin flinched as if struck.
He was lost for words, his confident posture deflating.
After a moment of heavy silence, sitting upright as a rod, his searching gaze locking onto Blake's.
"Let me tell you about Lucas," Blake continued, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.
"We were on a mission. In all that time, through all that exhaustion, he never once spoke of wanting to be someone else. His entire focus was on the craft itself—sharpening a skill, reading a terrain a second faster, making a cleaner decision. He mentioned three people he holds in awe—individuals whose strength is so profound it borders on terrifying. But it was reverence, not rivalry. He never spoke of fighting to keep up with them. He spoke of learning to see the way they see."
Blake paused, "Austin, life isn't a race against others. It's a relentless, intimate war against the person you were a minute ago, who you were yesterday, and the ghost of who you desperately want to become tomorrow. A life of meaning isn't paved with happiness; it's carved from the struggle with your own past, present, and future. It's a heavier burden than chasing simple peace or pleasure. Peace is a mirage in a world teeming with other wills, other dreams. And chasing happiness?"
Blake's smile was thin, without humor. "That road only leads into a valley of shadows, because you eventually find that static happiness doesn't exist. It's a flash, a spark. Some people, realizing this, push forward on spite alone and end up wanting to burn the world down, blaming everyone but themselves for the hollow consequences of their own choices."
He stood now, moving to the window, "The brutal, liberating truth is that almost everything that unfolds in our life is our own fault. Our triumphs and our disasters. Our death, when it comes, will be shaped by the life we chose to lead. Our failed relationships are monuments to our failures to understand, to yield, to fight at the right moment. Our defeats—like yours—are lessons we refused to learn earlier. Even losing someone… or the miracle of gaining someone's love… the moments we clutch to our chests, and the results we despise with every fiber—they all sprout from seeds we planted, or neglected to plant, in the soil of our own decisions. The good and the bad. We are the architects."
Blake turned from the window. The gravity in the room seemed to shift toward him. "So what I am trying to say, Austin, is this: Stop straining your eyes at the backs of those ahead of you. Your neck will cramp, and you'll stumble on the path at your own feet. Instead, focus on the texture of the stone beneath your boot. Focus on how you can improve the very action you are performing right now. Surround yourself not with idols or rivals, but with fellow climbers on the same treacherous slope—people who will, without malice, tap your shoulder and say, 'Your grip is slipping here,' or 'You missed a handhold there.'"
His voice softened, but lost none of its power. "Because in the end, all that truly exists is the climb itself, and the hands we choose to hold, or briefly touch, along the way. That's the sum of a life. So, value Lucas. Not as a benchmark, but as a companion. A friend who shares the same vertical face of the mountain. If you only see him as someone to surpass, you will forever be blinded to the man he is, and you will never, ever become who you are meant to be. You will never become him, and in trying, you will lose yourself."
Blake spoke calmly before adding:
"Also, as a single, questionably strong guy, you shouldn't act like that—people might start thinking the wrong thing."
Austin chuckled. "What do you mean?"
"Well, they'll think you're gay," Blake answered.
"Fuck you," Austin said, bursting into laughter.
"You shouldn't talk like that until you get a chick, bro," Blake shot back with a chuckle.
"Now that you've got a girl, you think you're Mr. Know-It-All, huh?" Austin said with a smirk, then added, "But besides that, thanks. That meant a lot."
"You're welcome. But you should also ask Lucas about getting yourself a chick. I've heard he's even charmed Kaya from the Lotus Clan," Blake said.
"I guess I should get myself a girlfriend to stop you from talking… huh," Austin replied, smiling.
Blake smiled back. "Yep."