3rd POV
Unaware of what was happening with Aldric and his system, Arthur stood before a massive wooden door lined with intricate runes. He inhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. His heartbeat echoed faintly in his ears—not from fear, but from anticipation.
This conversation would change everything.
He lifted his hand to knock—
"Come in."
The deep, commanding voice resonated from inside before his knuckles even touched the wood.
Arthur wasn't surprised.
Of course his uncle sensed him. A mere door would never hide his presence.
He opened it and stepped inside.
The study was enormous—lined with towering bookshelves, scroll racks, crystal artifacts, and maps of territories spanning continents. At its center sat a heavy ebony desk overflowing with documents, ancient records, and glowing mana stones.
Behind that desk sat a man of immense presence.
Black hair.
Golden eyes sharp enough to pierce through lies.
A face carved with authority.
And an aura so overwhelming that Arthur instinctively wanted to bow.
The Duke of Crestban.
His uncle.
One of humanity's strongest.
"Greetings, Uncle," Arthur said respectfully, lowering his head.
The Duke glanced up… and frowned.
"You've gotten weaker."
Arthur had expected this greeting—if it could even be called a greeting.
His uncle had always kept a close eye on him, even from afar.
"You've been neglecting your physical training, haven't you?"
His voice held no anger, only cold certainty.
Arthur remained silent.
The Duke closed the folder in his hands and leaned back, disappointment clouding his golden eyes.
"I believe I told you," he continued, tone sharp, "that having a strong foundation before awakening is crucial. Your body must be tempered long before mana enters your core."
Arthur nodded, accepting every word without protest.
For five full minutes, the Duke lectured him—his tone firm, unyielding. Not because he was angry, but because he cared. Because he feared for Arthur's future. Because he hoped the boy would live up to the Vormir lineage.
Finally, the lecture ended with a long exhale.
"…Anyway," the Duke said, folding his arms, "tell me what urgent matter brought you here."
Arthur tightened his grip behind his back. He had replayed this moment a hundred times in his head. There was no turning back now.
He raised his head, eyes filled with steel-like determination.
"I believe… I have found a way to heal Mother."
Silence.
A deep, suffocating silence fell over the room.
The Duke did not blink.
Did not move.
Did not even breathe for a moment.
After nearly a minute, he spoke in a dangerously quiet voice:
"…Brat. Do you even understand what you are saying?"
The temperature seemed to drop.
The air grew heavier, thicker, crushing even.
But Arthur didn't flinch.
"Yes," he answered firmly.
Just one word.
But it echoed with certainty.
The Duke slowly leaned forward, golden eyes sharp as blades.
"Explain," he demanded. "Tell me how, in the nine worlds, you claim to cure a disease that the higher floors of the Tower cannot fix. A disease I doubt even has a cure."
Despite the skepticism in his voice, despite the weight of his disbelief…
There was something else.
Hope.
Faint. Fragile.
But real.
The Duke's mind raced.
The Dew of the Life Tree on the 50th floor can cure any disease… but retrieving it is nearly impossible. What nonsense is this child about to say?
Meanwhile, Arthur was lost in his own thoughts.
There are countless cures in the Tower… the world just hasn't discovered them yet.
If I'm the first, I might get thousands of World Points.
Hehe… richest man in the Tower? Not a bad idea…
But for now, he needed a believable explanation—one his uncle could accept.
So he spoke slowly, choosing each word carefully.
"I… saw it in a dream."
The Duke's eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent.
"A dream," Arthur repeated, voice steady. "The recipe for a potion that can cure Abyss Corruption."
The Duke stared at him.
Not angry.
Not dismissive.
Not mocking.
But shaken.
Because in this world—
many great discoveries, legends, and breakthroughs truly had originated from divine dreams.
And now, everything was about to change.