"Take Arthur's advice seriously. You were told to rest during the day, and I assume you were. I would have brought this to you if you had instructed me to," Mingle spoke.
It was early afternoon when Scar arrived to meet Mingle and his staff. Emma, oddly enough, wasn't glued to Mingle's side today. She wasn't there at all.
Scar had hoped to exchange a few words with her, given their newfound friendship.
One month into his academy enrollment, and after this morning's medical assessment, he remained tier-7. Frustrating, yes, but he had no one to blame. He'd prioritized physical training with his absorbed Blessing over developing his Inheritance.
"Your legs are shaking, and you're smiling? How little do you care about your health?" Mingle asked, his face twitching with annoyance.
Fair assessment. Scar's training had ended a few hours back, and he still needed a wall every ten meters just to stay upright.
Currently, he was slumped against the cages and glass containers along the wall. Some of the creatures were clearly aggressive, but Mingle had said they weren't venomous, so he didn't give them much thought.
Yet sleep was impossible. The reason sat in Mingle's hands right now, and just the sight of it had Scar ready to sing hallelujah.
In Mingle's hands were dark combat gloves. The material, matte black leather or reinforced fabric, was thick enough for protection while remaining flexible.
Strategic cutouts left the index and pinky tips exposed for better grip and precision when wielding a blade. They hugged the palm and knuckles with minimal padding, protecting without restricting movement.
Scar's eyes sparkled. "Not flashy, and it's practical too. This is very much my style."
Aside from Haven Velanora and his sword, he was certain this was the next thing he'd developed a crush on.
Staring into Scar's hopeless eyes, Mingle exhaled in disbelief.
"Here, take it. But don't wear it until your hands have completely healed." He tossed the gloves to Scar.
"Because you're unsure what triggers your flames to burn you, I wasn't able to create something that would stop the burns entirely."
Scar's expression went dark.
He thought about confessing how his decay had leaked out, but trust was an issue. He didn't really trust Mingle. Didn't trust anyone much, except Arthur.
The problem was that Mingle served the whole Rover family. Any family member could ask about the flames, and Mingle would have to answer. That was a risk Scar couldn't afford.
"Judging by how your hands look, I drew my own conclusions. These gloves have what I'd call a reservoir.
"They'll help you contain the flames you create in the first second, pulling them into a sort of pool. So, to have enough flames to spare, you'll need to purify the flames in the gloves before each battle."
Mingle ruffled his hair, his usual lustful smile returning.
"I deserve some credit for this. The materials are similar to what was used for your sword, very expensive, and your uncle footed the bill.
"On top of that, I had to smash the stones into tiny pieces. Took forever… yet somehow, I finished it in two days. Impressive, right?
"Anyway, these gloves can only be used twenty times. Make sure you master your Inheritance before the time is up."
Scar frowned.
The gratitude was real; even if he could only use the gloves three times, that would've been enough. But something in Mingle's words nagged at him. The part about his sword.
"What did you say about my sword?"
Mingle's smile vanished, and he furrowed his brow. "What do you mean? You don't know what your sword is?"
Scar looked down at his belt, where the simple, elegant sword rested in its sheath. His concern had nothing to do with the sword's performance but everything to do with its worth. Isaac had given it to him.
"I'm not shocked you don't know this. The sword is expensive and powerful. Mikeal forged it, and apparently he named it the Black Sun… which is hilarious since the blade's actually azure."
Scar's eyes flickered downward, hand trembling against the sword hilt. The person who'd been smiling moments ago seemed to have vanished entirely.
Scar knew of Mikeal. Not personally, but everyone knew what his death had meant, the whole world had frozen. Mikeal wielded an Inheritance called Asterisk, one focused on weapon manipulation. He'd been only the third person ever to possess that kind of power.
This type of Inheritance guaranteed wealth, given how much humans and Akumas relied on it. Mikeal hated it, though. The Supreme Academy forced him to work despite his objections. He created only four weapons in his entire career, then killed himself.
"This… this is worth at least 20 gold coins," Scar muttered, his voice trembling in both terror and confusion.
Mingle wore his smile once more. "25 gold coins, precisely. The Supreme Academy didn't go easy on the price even though the Black Sun is the weakest among the four. Honestly, that's probably enough to build the Rover estate, if we're feeling generous with inflation."
Scar ground his teeth together. The most expensive gift he'd ever received. Forged by Mikeal himself, its worth was beyond question. But that wasn't what troubled him.
Isaac had claimed the sword was among the best, but Scar had dismissed it. Now he questioned whether he was worthy of the old man's love.
That money could've changed Isaac's life. Maybe if he'd used it on himself, Adisa never would've killed him.
But instead, the old man lived in poverty to buy Scar a sword. The more he considered it, the more worthless Scar felt. Because in the end, his carelessness had gotten Isaac killed.
While Scar was lost in thought, Mingle touched his shoulder. The softness in his expression made it seem like he knew exactly what was going through Scar's head.
"Don't be so gloomy. Isaac loved you like a son, and I'm sure he would have made the same decisions if he could return. Remember, whatever made you feel loved and happy also made him happy. Do you think he'd expect more from you?"
Realization hit, and Scar's eyes went wide, wide enough that he looked like he'd mentally checked out. But he understood. Those were the exact words he needed to hear.
He smiled.
'Isaac did his part. I need to make him proud.'
Scar exhaled. "For a moment, I nearly forgot that I was raised by that perverted fool."
As Isaac's son, showing sadness wasn't necessary. Whatever came his way, he'd handle it with jokes and perverted quips, just like the old man would have.
Mingle's expression darkened. "Insulting your father like that? That's rude. Still, I put in a good word for you. Because of your heroism and the injuries it caused, you've got a week off duels, though two days of it are already gone."
Neat.
He could train under Arthur Rover now. Enough time to build the strength he needed to kill Adisa.