Arthur's body began shaking violently.
His breathing was ragged, each inhale sharp and uneven. He coughed again, this time a heavier stream of blood spilling from his mouth.
The damage to his body was far worse than it appeared at first glance.
Deep cuts covered his arms, chest, and back, some shallow but many torn open from repeated clashes. The edges of those wounds were uneven, showing how they had been inflicted during high-speed movements. Blood continuously flowed from them, staining what remained of his clothes.
The wound on his stomach was the most severe. The blade had pierced deep enough to tear through layers of muscle, leaving a wide opening. With every slight movement, fresh blood seeped out, and the internal damage became more visible. Even maintaining balance caused the wound to strain further, sending sharp waves of pain through his entire body.
His mana core, already cracked, felt like it was collapsing under pressure. The remaining mana inside it surged uncontrollably, clashing against the suppressed portion. This internal instability caused a burning sensation that spread from his core to the rest of his body.
In contrast, the man who had pushed him into this condition stood in perfect shape. Even though his face was hidden behind the mask, his expression wasn't hard to imagine. He seemed slightly exhausted, but determined to finish the fight quickly. Without wasting time, he rushed toward Arthur again with full force.
"Elevate."
Suddenly, the ground began to tremble. The piece of land beneath Arthur rose upward, lifting him into the air until he was nearly 20 feet above the ground. The sudden height created distance between him and the masked man, forcing a temporary pause in close combat.
Arthur had previously read some elemental spells that the original Arthur had created and recorded in a notebook. He had also practiced a few of them earlier on the rapist.
'I have to switch to magic instead of swordsmanship now. I avoided this earlier because half of my mana is sealed, and my spells would be weaker. But this man is far too skilled in close combat… I need to keep my distance.'
"You also know magic… truly enviable. However, don't you think this is just a desperate attempt to buy time? It's already night, and no one is coming to save you."
"Icespears."
Arthur summoned five rotating spears made of ice, their sharp tips gleaming faintly as they shot downward toward the masked man.
SLASH
The man cut through them effortlessly.
Those spears were originally meant to be extremely fast and durable, but in Arthur's current condition, they lacked their true strength. With his mana restricted and his energy drained, the attack was incomplete, lacking its intended power.
"Now I'm starting to get annoyed. Come down and accept your death… no one can enter this array and save you."
"Had it not been for the strict condition of this array that only two people are allowed inside, I would have brought others as well. Considering how weak you've become, we would have killed you without any effort."
'Even if I stall for time, my condition won't improve unless I'm healed by at least a 7th-tier healer… I really don't have a choice. This will be my final gamble. Depending on this move, I either survive… or die.'
Arthur jumped down.
The masked man was caught off guard for a brief moment.
Arthur gathered every remaining bit of mana within his body. His veins bulged, nearly bursting under the pressure.
"Illumina."
His figure split into seven identical versions of himself, each one taking a different stance.
"What the hell is this???"
Each of the seven figures began casting a different elemental spell:
Ice. Fire. Water. Wind. Earth. Light. Dark.
Only one of them was real. The rest were illusions.
However, the illusion was so refined that distinguishing between real and fake became nearly impossible. Some appeared real, others appeared fake, however the reality could be opposite aswell.
This technique wasn't just about power. It was psychological.
Each element required a different defensive response. Choosing incorrectly, even for a moment, could be fatal.
The masked man immediately understood that all the spells couldn't be real. Arthur didn't have enough mana left for such an attack.
But the problem remained.
Which one was real?
'Out of all of these… dark magic is considered the most lethal. He's aiming to end this in one move… it has to be dark.'
He prepared his defense accordingly.
The moment all the spells reached him, he activated his counter—
'I-I-IT WASN'T DARK??'
It was already too late.
His body was engulfed in flames.
"AAHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
The remaining spells vanished instantly, revealing the truth behind the illusion.
The fire consumed him completely. His flesh burned away rapidly, followed by his bones, until nothing remained but ashes scattered across the ground.
Arthur fell to his knees, blood slowly trickled from his eyes, staining his vision with a faint red tint. His nose and ears weren't spared either, thin streams of blood continuing to flow due to the intense pressure his body had endured.
His fingers twitched slightly, struggling to even maintain grip or control. His legs felt numb and unstable, barely responding as he forced himself to stand up once again.
If not for sheer willpower…
He would have collapsed long ago.
The final move was a pure gamble
If the masked man had guessed correctly…
Arthur would have died without any mana left to defend himself.
The array finally dissolved.
'I can't let anyone see me like this… I need to get back immediately.'
Arthur forced himself to walk. His steps were slow and unstable, almost like a child learning to walk. Somehow, he managed to make his way back to the palace under the cover of night, avoiding attention.
The knights guarding the entrance initially assumed he was a beggar.
But as he stepped closer—
Their expressions froze.
"T-The Crown Prince??"
Arthur ignored their shock and walked past them.
Inside, the atmosphere was calm and lively. Alice was speaking with Seraphina, Darius, Lysandra, and Elowen as they enjoyed dessert after dinner. Lucian had already left, uninterested in such interactions, and Isolde had gone to sleep.
They didn't notice Arthur's presence at first.
Until—
"Get me a healer."
His voice, though weak, cut through the room.
Everyone turned toward him.
And froze.
His clothes were completely torn apart, barely hanging onto his body. Deep gashes covered his skin, some still actively bleeding while others had begun clotting unevenly. His entire body was stained red.
His eyes had turned crimson, not just from mana depletion, but from the blood vessels that had burst under extreme pressure. Blood continued to leak from the corners of his eyes, trailing down his face. His breathing was irregular
The wound on his stomach was horrifying. Flesh had been torn open to the point that his intestines were hanging out, and blood continuously poured out despite his attempts to remain still.
His entire presence no longer resembled that of a crown prince.
He looked like someone who had been tortured until madness.
His appearance was… horrifying and pitiful.
Alice couldn't bear to look at her son in such a state and shut her eyes tightly.
Elowen immediately turned away and began vomiting.
Lysandra stood still, unable to comprehend how her once untouchable brother had been reduced to this condition.
Darius clenched his fists, his entire body trembling with rage, silently swearing to kill whoever was responsible.
Only Seraphina reacted without hesitation. She rushed forward and supported Arthur just as he was about to collapse.
"Arthur! Who did this to you?"
Before he could respond—
Arthur lost consciousness.
The entire palace was thrown into chaos.