Arthur woke up screaming.
It wasn't a sound of fear; it was a physical reaction to a pain that didn't exist anymore. For a split second, he felt it—the sensation of his bones being crushed into powder a hundred times over, his muscles twisting like wet rags, his heart exploding in his chest.
Then, silence.
The pain vanished instantly, leaving him floating in the gray nothingness of the Void.
"You are loud," a voice rumbled.
Arthur gasped, scrambling to his feet—or what felt like feet in this place where up and down were suggestions.
Looming over him, sitting on a throne made of obsidian shards and red mist, was Bellona. She wasn't the giant monster this time; she was human-sized, resting her chin on her hand, looking at him with mild curiosity from her throne.
"Who are you, boy?" she asked.
Arthur blinked, his mind reeling. "Shouldn't I be dead?"
"Yes," Bellona nodded, as if discussing the weather. "Most definitely. Your heart stopped. Your mana channels burst. By all the laws of magic, you are a corpse."
She pointed a long, clawed finger behind him.
"So explain that."
Arthur turned around.
Floating in the void behind him was a heart. It was massive, beating with a slow, heavy rhythm—thump... thump. But it wasn't a normal heart. It was encased in a cage of black, ivy-like moss that pulsed with a sickly purple light. The moss seemed to be holding the muscle together, stitching the tears, forcing it to pump.
"What is that?" Arthur whispered, horrified.
"That," Bellona stood up, her armor clinking, "is your heart. Or what's left of it."
She walked around him, inspecting the floating organ like a piece of art.
"It seems your mortal coil couldn't handle my power," she mused. "But instead of dying like a good little human, your body did something... rude. It snatched a fragment of my Ancient Magic. It stole it to stitch itself back together."
She turned to Arthur, her eyes narrowing.
"So, I ask again. Who are you? This magic... the Dark Arts... it is reserved for a specific bloodline. That was the deal we made a million years ago. You are not of that line, are you?"
Arthur stepped back. "No. I'm... I'm just a farmboy."
"A farmboy… so you say," Bellona smirked.
She walked closer to the giant heart, reaching out to touch the black moss. The heart shuddered at her proximity.
"I should take it back," Bellona said softly. "If I rip this magic out, the moss dies. The heart stops. And you go back to being dead."
Arthur looked at the heart. He looked at the void. He remembered Gareth's face. The blood. The failure.
"Take it," Arthur said.
Bellona paused. She looked at him over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"
"Take it back," Arthur said, his voice hollow. "I couldn't save him. I couldn't save my uncle. There's no one left. No one waiting for me. No one to cry if I'm gone. Just... let it end."
Bellona stared at him. Then, she started to laugh. It was a dry, rasping sound.
"No one to cry?" she mocked. "You truly are deaf, aren't you?"
"What?"
"If you are so alone," Bellona stepped closer, her eyes burning, "then why have I been listening to wailing for the past six hours? It's giving me a headache."
"I don't hear anything," Arthur muttered.
"That's because I was blocking it," Bellona snapped her fingers. "Listen."
WOOSH.
The silence of the void shattered.
It hit Arthur like a physical wave.
"...don't give up! You stupid idiot, breathe!" That was Leo, his voice raw and broken.
"...please, Arthur.... please... don't give in" Maya, sobbing uncontrollably.
"...he is strong. He is Gareth's boy. He will not leave us." The Miller's voice, shaking.
And under it all, a soft, commanding whisper, close to his ear.
"Come back."
Erika.
Arthur fell to his knees, clutching his head. The sound was overwhelming. It wasn't just noise; it was love. Pure, terrified, desperate love pouring into the void from the world above.
"Where..." Arthur choked out. "Where am I?"
"The Healer's Den," Bellona said, her voice softer now. "They dragged your broken body out of the rubble. They have been pumping healing magic into you all night. The Queen hasn't left your side. Neither have those noisy friends of yours. Not even Conrad has moved an inch. I have never seen such... dedication. For a farmboy."
Arthur listened to the tears. He remembered Gareth's last words.
Use it. Not for glory. For... them.
If he died now, he wasn't just killing himself. He was hurting them. He was abandoning them, just like everyone else had.
Arthur stood up. He wiped his eyes.
"I want to live," Arthur said.
Bellona burst out laughing. "Oh, now you decide? You humans are fickle."
"I want to live," Arthur repeated, louder. "I have to."
"You are an idiot," Bellona grinned, showing sharp teeth. "It is not your choice, boy. It is mine. My magic is what holds your heart together. I decide if it stays or returns to me."
She looked at the giant heart, then at Arthur. She saw the fire in him again—not the wildfire of rage this time, but the steady, enduring flame of a hearth.
"How about a contract?" Bellona suggested.
Arthur hesitated. "What kind of contract?"
"I will let you keep the mana," Bellona said. "I will let the moss grow. You will live. But in return... you belong to me."
"Belong to you?"
"You will wield me," Bellona declared. "You will be my new Master."
Arthur blinked. "Me? But... Conrad. He's the Guardian. He's strong. He knows how to use you. I barely survived fifteen seconds."
"Conrad is strong," Bellona admitted, waving a hand dismissively. "But he is boring. He is duty and stone. You..." She stepped closer, poking Arthur in the chest where his heart would be. "You are interesting. I like you more."
"That's a terrible reason," Arthur said. "Someone like me wielding you... it would be a waste of your power. I'm weak."
"Yes," Bellona smiled, a genuine, terrifying smile. "You are. That is why you must get strong. No one is born a Chosen One in this world, Arthur. They have to earn it. Maybe the bloodline I have been searching is lost, so you must walk through the path that was meant for them."
She turned and began to walk into the crimson mist.
"Get strong, Arthur of Aethelgard. You have a Devil to catch up to."
"Wait!" Arthur shouted. "What if I need to talk to you? How do I find you?"
Bellona didn't look back. She just waved a hand as she faded away.
"Just call my name. I will be right there. By your side."
The void began to dissolve. The gray faded into black.
Arthur felt a sensation return—pain. But this time, it was dull. Distant.
He felt the heaviness of his eyelids. He felt the roughness of a blanket.
He opened his eyes.
The light was blinding. Blurry shapes hovered over him. The smell of medicinal herbs filled his nose.
"He moved!" someone screamed. Leo.
"Heart rate is stabilizing!" a healer shouted.
"Arthur?" A soft hand touched his face.
Arthur blinked, his vision clearing. He saw the stone ceiling of the castle infirmary. He saw Erika, her face pale and streaked with dried tears, leaning over him.
He took a breath. It rattled in his chest, but the air filled his lungs.
Thump... thump... thump.
The black moss in his chest tightened, forcing the beat.
"I'm..." Arthur croaked, his throat dry as a desert.
"He's alive!" Maya yelled, collapsing into a chair in relief.
"He's alive!" the cry went out into the corridor.
Arthur looked at Erika. She was crying again, but she was smiling.
He closed his eyes, exhaustion taking him, but this time, he wasn't falling into the void. He was staying right here.
Alive.