NOVEL NEXT Chapter 43: Monotonous days
As Arthur reached the training grounds, he found Adam standing there, arms crossed, watching him with an expression that clearly indicated he wasn't thrilled.
"You're late again," Adam said with a tinge of impatience. "It seems you're determined to learn your lesson the hard way."
Arthur gave a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, Brother. I overslept…"
Adam didn't respond at first. Instead, he eyed Arthur critically. "I heard you've been studying healing magic with Mother."
Arthur nodded, wondering where this conversation was going.
Adam's smirk widened, and there was a flash of something dangerous in his eyes. "Then it'll be alright if you get hurt, won't it? You can heal yourself," he said, his voice cold and calculated.
Before Arthur could respond, Adam lunged at him, sword drawn. The fight began.
Adam was relentless, pushing him harder than ever before. He attacked with precision, each strike landing with purpose, cutting Arthur's skin, bruising him, and testing his limits. Every time Arthur was injured, he would quickly cast a healing spell to mend the wounds. It was exhausting, the pain and the constant healing, but Arthur could feel his strength increasing.
He found himself growing more focused, the sting of the cuts almost becoming secondary to the feeling of power that surged within him. It was almost like a strange satisfaction in the suffering, a twisted kind of thrill that urged him to endure more.
And so the cycle continued—cut, heal, cut, heal.
Watching this cycle Sol commented playfully [Are you a masochist?]
'Shut up' Arthur retorted annoyed.
Arthur's body began to ache, his muscles screaming with every movement.
"Enough!" Adam finally shouted, stepping back, and watching Arthur closely.
After this session, his mastery in healing has increased significantly.
"You did well today," Adam said, his voice softer than before, though still stern. "But don't get too cocky. You've got a long way to go before you're ready."
Arthur nodded, catching his breath. "I understand. I won't be late again."
"You said the same thing yesterday," Adam said
After the training, aching and sore, Arthur made his way to his mother's quarters. As soon as he entered, she noticed the exhaustion in his eyes and opened her arms with a welcoming smile.
Arthur relaxed in her embrace, a wave of comfort washing over him as she gently brushed his hair. "He's… heartless," he complained, voice muffled. "He beat me, then told me to heal myself, then beat me again. He kept it up until I was out of mana."
"Oh, you poor thing. Let me help," she murmured, casting a healing spell on him. A warm glow enveloped his body, easing the soreness and pain. The tension melted away as the spell worked its magic.
"But look at the bright side," she said with a gentle smile, "your swordsmanship is improving, and your healing magic is getting stronger."
"I guess you're right," Arthur mumbled, though still a bit dejected.
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Would you like a way to get back at your brother?"
Arthur's expression brightened. "How?"
She leaned in, smiling knowingly. "You have something he doesn't—magic. Your brother can't use it. I'll teach you some combat magic that might help in your training."
Arthur grinned at the idea, but then his face fell. "But I don't have any mana left for training…"
His mother chuckled and reached into a drawer, pulling out a small glass vial filled with a vibrant blue liquid. "This is a high mana recovery potion. Drink it, and you'll be ready to go."
Arthur stared at it, astonished. High-level mana potions were incredibly expensive—one of these could sustain a commoner's life for a month! Grateful, he drank it, feeling the invigorating rush as his mana reserves refilled.
"Ready to begin?" his mother asked.
"Yes!" he replied, eager to learn.
They started with Arcane Shield. A shimmering barrier materialized around her, translucent but radiating power. "This will protect you from both physical and magical attacks. Imagine your mana wrapping around you like a second skin."
Arthur focused, drawing mana to the surface of his body. Slowly, a faint, bluish shimmer formed around him, solidifying into a protective layer. It felt reassuring like an invisible armor hugging him.
"Excellent!" his mother praised. "Now, keep that shield up and try another spell."
They moved on to Thunder Bolt, a lightning spell designed for precise strikes. "Focus mana into your fingers and imagine it sparking to life," she instructed, demonstrating by sending a thin, crackling bolt across the room. Stay connected via empire
Arthur channeled mana to his fingertips, feeling a tingle as the energy gathered, then released a bright bolt that hit the target with a satisfying zap, leaving a faint scorch mark.
They continued through a series of spells:
Stone Bind: a defensive spell that summoned rocky bands to immobilize an opponent's legs.
Spectral Mirage: an illusion that creates a brief duplicate of himself, which is useful for creating distractions or dodging.
Gust Gale: a powerful blast of wind that could knock back opponents or clear obstacles.
Thanks to his "Quick Learner" skill, Arthur mastered each spell quickly, bypassing the need for lengthy practice. Soon, he could cast them chantlessly, with just focus. His mother was thrilled, unaware that his rapid learning was due to his unique skill.
They finished with Mana Surge, a spell to enhance physical strength and reflexes by infusing his body with mana. "This one is useful in close combat," his mother explained, "but be careful, as it drains mana rapidly."
Arthur activated Mana Surge, feeling his senses heighten, his reflexes sharpen, and his muscles fill with energy. He flexed his hands experimentally, marveling at the newfound speed and power in his movements.
Iliyana looked at him, pride evident in her gaze. "You're advancing so well, Arthur. Your talent with magic is truly remarkable."
Arthur smiled, grateful for her support.
As the lesson ended, Arthur thanked her with a smile and returned to his room, feeling revitalized and brimming with newfound power.
When he opened the door, he was greeted by a rather… surprising sight. Clara and Lily were already there, seated at the small table with dinner laid out. Except, instead of the usual formal attire, they were dressed in next to nothing—thin, lacy bras and open-slit panties that left little to the imagination.