The Manaless Extra (A Progression Fantasy Story)

112- Arthur and Dominic’s Past [2]



Volume 03, Chapter 112
Arthur and Dominic's Past [2]

-Bzzt!

The world around me shifts again.

When the distortion fades, I find myself standing in the cool darkness of a massive aquarium.

Soft, rippling lights dance across the curved walls, reflecting the serene movements of aquatic life gliding behind thick glass.

The gentle hum of filtration systems blends with the murmurs of visitors passing by.

In the center of the crowd, I spot young Dominic and Arthur.

They stand shoulder to shoulder, their faces bathed in the ethereal glow of the tanks.

"Woah, Arthur, look at that!" Dominic exclaims, his voice full of innocent awe as he points at the massive tank where a blue whale drifts by like a living titan.

Arthur follows his gaze. "…Yeah…" he mutters, almost inaudibly.

There is no wonder in his voice.

No excitement.

Only a hollow absence.

Dominic, oblivious to the shift in his friend's mood, presses his hands against the glass, eyes wide and sparkling with fascination. He drinks in the sight like a boy witnessing a miracle.

"It's amazing! I've never seen anything like it before!" he says breathlessly.

Arthur stands beside him, silent.

The blue whale's majesty—the sheer scale and beauty—means nothing to him in that moment.

His thoughts are elsewhere.

Buried under a weight that even the endless oceans beyond the glass cannot drown.

They move from tank to tank.

Dominic's excitement never dims. He points out glowing jellyfish, schools of shimmering fish, even tiny seahorses hidden among the kelp.

Each time, he turns to Arthur, eager to share the magic.

Each time, Arthur smiles.

But the smiles are thin, strained, slipping faster from his lips like water through open fingers.

At last, in front of a tank filled with pulsating jellyfish, Dominic notices.

"Arthur, look at this jellyfish! It's so cool how it glows!" Dominic says, nose nearly pressed to the glass.

Arthur mumbles, "Yeah… it's cool."

Dominic turns to him, frowning. He gently tugs at Arthur's sleeve, concern flickering across his face.

"Hey… are you okay?" Dominic asks. "You seem… different today."

Arthur stiffens.

For a long moment, he does not answer.

The neon light of the jellyfish reflects in his green eyes, making them look even more haunted.

"I'm fine, Doms," he says at last, his voice brittle. "Just… thinking about stuff."

Dominic does not back off. He tilts his head, innocent but persistent. "What kind of stuff?"

Arthur hesitates, then speaks so quietly I barely hear him: "…How you're always so good at everything."

Dominic blinks, caught off guard.

Arthur's voice wavers. "It's hard sometimes, you know? Feeling like… you'll always be one step ahead."

Dominic's face softens.

He reaches out and awkwardly pats Arthur's shoulder, the gesture clumsy but sincere.

"Arthur, you're amazing too," Dominic says, his voice unwavering. "You're strong and smart, and you've always been there for me. You don't have to be better at everything. I… I need you just as you are."

Arthur's fists unclench slightly.

For a second—just a second—the armor around his heart cracks.

A deep breath escapes his lungs.

"Thanks, Doms," he murmurs, eyes downcast. "I guess… I just need to figure out who I am… when I'm not chasing you."

Dominic smiles, small but full of warmth. "We're in this together, Arthur. Always."

Arthur looks up at him, and for a moment, the storm in his heart stills.

Together.

He believes it.

But deep down, even then… a tiny part of him still wonders: What would it take to ever feel like he wasn't second best?

-Bzzt!

The world around me flickers again, and when the distortion clears, I find myself standing outside the towering aquarium.

The smell of fried food, buttered corn, and sweet pastries drifts through the warm afternoon air.

Right in front of me, a bustling food truck is parked by the curb, its small line of customers animated with chatter.

"Arthur, I can buy some food for us!" Dominic's voice rings out, full of his usual earnest excitement.

Arthur, looking a little tired but smiling faintly, starts to reply, "Oh, I can buy—"

"No! It's my treat this time!" Dominic insists eagerly before sprinting toward the food truck line.

I cannot help but smile a little at the sight.

Arthur shakes his head with a small chuckle and sits down on a nearby bench, stretching his legs and glancing around lazily.

I stand nearby, observing—and then something passes straight through me.

"Ugh!" I shudder violently, instinctively wrapping my arms around myself.

The feeling is nauseating, like being drenched in cold mist while your body is not fully solid.

I turn quickly to see who—or what—has just walked through me.

A woman.

She moves with casual confidence, her brown, curly bob hair bouncing slightly with each step. She wears a white lab coat, its hem fluttering in the breeze, and her entire aura is one of someone who belongs everywhere she goes.

When she turns to sit on the bench next to Arthur, I catch a full glimpse of her face.

Golden-brown eyes, sharp with intelligence. Light freckles dusted across her tan cheeks. A black sleeveless crop top paired with high-waisted blue jeans and sleek black boots. Simple—but effortlessly stylish.

Wait… that appearance… that's Elara Valtor!

One of the five legendary figures of the Society of Geniuses. In the webnovel, she worked alongside Celestin to challenge the Umbrascourge's generals.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

What is she doing here?

This is supposed to be a simple memory from years ago. A slice of childhood. A flash of Arthur and Dominic's past.

Yet here she is.

Elara Valtor, an undisputed genius, is sitting casually beside a young Arthur Lyon as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The sight sends a ripple of pure shock through me.

What reason could someone of her stature possibly have to mingle at a random field trip like this?

My heart hammers in my chest.

They sit quietly on the bench, just a few feet apart, yet wrapped in different worlds.

Arthur keeps his gaze on Dominic, who stands in line, fidgeting with excitement.

Elara, on the other hand, casts a glance at Arthur before looking away, thoughtful.

"Life is unpredictable, isn't it?" Elara says softly, her voice almost swallowed by the distant chatter.

I raise an eyebrow. What is she trying to say to Arthur?

Arthur turns toward her, brow furrowing. "May I help you, Mademoiselle?"

Elara exhales slowly, her gaze distant as if searching for the right words. "Life does not follow the neat little paths we draw for ourselves. We dream, we plan—and then reality happens. Full of detours, surprises... and sometimes, gifts we do not even recognize at first."

Arthur listens, wary but intrigued. "I suppose that's true. But why are you telling me this?"

Elara's smile is faint but knowing. "Because sometimes, the biggest blessings come disguised as obstacles. Growth does not happen when everything goes right—it happens when you're tested, when you think you've lost."

Arthur's frown deepens, but a glimmer of understanding flickers in his eyes. "I see... I guess life does feel full of surprises."

Elara nods, pleased. "And sitting here, quietly thinking, shows me something important about you. You observe before you act. That is a rare strength."

Arthur looks over at Dominic again, who is now inching closer to the food truck window. "May I ask who you are?"

"Elara Valtor," she replies, offering her hand.

Arthur shakes it, politely cautious. "Arthur Lyon."

Elara's smile widens. "Arthur... You see more than most your age. You notice. That makes you special."

Arthur blinks, his chest tightening strangely at her words. "No one's ever said that to me before. They always say... Dominic's the talented one."

Elara's gaze softens. "It's easy for others to focus on the obvious. But true brilliance isn't always loud. Sometimes, it's quiet... thoughtful." She leans back slightly. "You have a mind meant to build, to create. Tell me, Arthur—have you ever thought of becoming a Magitist?"

Arthur's eyes widen. "R-Really?! You think I could?"

"I don't think. I know," Elara says without hesitation. "With the right guidance, you could do incredible things."

I watch from my invisible place, feeling the weight of Arthur's amazement. For the first time, someone is not comparing him to Dominic.

Someone other than Dominic is seeing him.

Arthur's smile is small but genuine, like a fragile flower blooming for the first time. "Thank you, Mademoiselle Valtor. I... I guess I've always wanted to find something that's mine."

Elara's voice is warm. "You will. But only if you stop measuring yourself against someone else's yardstick. The only race you're running is your own."

Arthur lowers his head, his voice nearly a whisper. "I've always felt like... no matter what I did, it wasn't enough. Not compared to Doms. My father… he always looked at Dominic like he was the son he wished he had."

Elara places a gentle hand on his shoulder, her touch light but grounding. "You're more than enough, Arthur. You're you. That's your greatest strength."

They sit in a comfortable silence, the tension between them dissolving into a fragile, new trust.

Arthur eventually glances back at Dominic, who is paying for their food, a paper bag in hand.

"Elara…" Arthur says slowly, "do you ever wonder if our paths are our own? Or if we're just... chasing the dreams others set for us?"

Elara's golden-brown eyes gleam. "A wise question," she says. "The world will always try to decide your path. But only you get to choose if you follow it or forge a new one."

Arthur nods slowly. "Maybe… maybe I don't have to be better than Doms. Maybe I just have to be the best version of myself."

Elara smiles, brilliant and sincere. "That, Arthur, is the mark of someone who will change the world."

She rises gracefully, her lab coat fluttering like a cape. "I must go now. But remember what I said. You're stronger than you think."

Arthur stands as well, giving her a small bow. "Thank you, Elara."

As she walks away, her silhouette bathed in the golden afternoon light, I can still feel the profound echo of her words lingering in the air.

Arthur watches her until she disappears into the crowd. Then, slowly, he turns back toward Dominic.

This simple, chance meeting—this unexpected conversation—has left a deep, indelible mark on him.

And maybe, just maybe, it will become the first seed of Arthur Lyon's true journey—not in Dominic's shadow, but standing proudly on his path.

—Bzzt!

The world around me glitches once more. As the distortion fades, I find myself in a dimly lit bedroom—Arthur's room.

Stacks of books surround him, their spines worn from repeated use. Scrolls, pages, and notes lie spread across his desk in what looks like chaos, yet everything is methodically placed. A soft glow from his computer screen casts a pale blue light across his focused face.

Arthur sits at the center of it all, hunched over the keyboard, eyes scanning rapidly, fingers flying as he types. He flips between digital diagrams on the Aethernet and dense tomes written in arcane script, scribbling notes in a notebook already filled with equations, spell theories, and schematics.

I watch in silence, struck by the intensity in his expression. There is no hint of exhaustion—only clarity. Determination. Purpose.

Not curiosity for its own sake, but something deeper—the need to matter.

"I see… so that's how it works."

Arthur leans closer to the screen, eyes gleaming with insight as he clicks and scrolls. He cross-references information, correlating ancient Magitist formulae with modern Aethernet threads. In the corner of the page, he quickly jots a note: "Oscillating conduit matrix = unstable unless routed through dual-core Aether stabilizer."

This is not play. It is not homework.

It is obsession—the kind born from years of standing one step behind someone else.

After a long pause, Arthur leans back in his chair and sighs. "Phew…"

Then he smiles, tired but satisfied. He looks up at the ceiling like he is speaking to someone who is not there.

"I've decided," he says. "I'm going to be a Magitist when I grow up."

But then, his smile fades.

"I won't tell Doms... not yet."

His voice lowers, almost like a whisper. "I don't want him to overshadow me again…"

The moment lingers. Painful. Honest.

Then, he sits forward again, eyes sharpening as he returns to his notes. The weariness vanishes, replaced by renewed drive.

Whatever Arthur lacks in talent, he makes up for in sheer, relentless effort.

And it is clear: he is not just trying to catch up to Dominic.

He is trying to find himself.

—Bzzt!

The world around me warps again, settling into the familiar walls of a quiet classroom.

"Hey, Arthur, do you want to hang out later? Let's go to the arcade!" Dominic's voice is bright, eager, full of the uncomplicated excitement that only childhood friendships can bring.

Arthur turns to him, a smile curving his lips—but it is a fragile thing, weighed down by something heavier. "Sorry, Doms," Arthur says, slinging his bag over one shoulder, "I have something I need to buy."

Dominic's face falls instantly, his shoulders sagging in a way that makes my chest ache. "Oh… okay."

Arthur hesitates for a fraction of a second, guilt flickering in his emerald eyes. Then, as if trying to patch the moment before it tears too deeply, he adds, "Let's hang out tomorrow, alright?"

Dominic's face lights up, but it cannot erase the shadow of hurt that has already settled there. "Yeah… that sounds good."

Arthur turns toward the door, walking with steady steps, but his grip on the strap of his bag tightens. His back is stiff, tense, betraying the storm of conflict brewing beneath his calm façade.

He wants to spend time with Dominic—truly, he does—but the weight of his secret, the path he is carving alone, pulls him forward. It is a different kind of gravity, one that has started pulling him away from Dominic the moment he decided he needed to find something that was his, something only his.

I can feel it—Arthur's growing ambition, his silent longing for individuality, for recognition without comparison. The boy who once chased Dominic's shadow is now struggling to step out from under it.

"Hey, Arthur." Dominic's voice, softer now, floats after him like a tether refusing to snap. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Arthur freezes at the doorway, one foot already outside. Slowly, he turns his head, offering Dominic a strained smile—a smile that carries the weight of everything left unsaid.

"I know, Doms. Thanks. Tomorrow… we'll have a great time. I promise."

Dominic nods, the small smile he returns carrying more hope than certainty. "Alright… see you then."

Arthur steps through the door, and it swings closed behind him with a soft, final click.

I stand in the silence that follows, feeling the distance growing between them even though they are still so close.

—Bzzt!

The world around me warps again, resolving into the familiar sight of a bustling town. Quaint buildings line the cobbled streets, and the warm afternoon sun casts long shadows along the ground.

The doorbell above a small bookstore chimes, and I see Arthur step out, a bag of books tucked under his arm, his face bright with satisfaction.

"Let's see… now that I bought the latest—"

"You Manaless piece of trash, you dare ignore me?!"

The voice—venomous and unmistakable-cuts—cuts through the air like a whip.

Renard.

Arthur freezes, his brows knitting together.

"Renard? What is he doing now?" Arthur mutters, his voice tight with worry.

Without a second thought, he breaks into a sprint, and I run after him, heart pounding.

We turn a corner into a narrow alley, and I freeze.

Dominic—small, bruised, defenseless—is curled on the ground, arms over his head as four older boys rain kicks and punches down on him. His muffled cries hit me harder than any blow.

Arthur's eyes blaze with fury, and I can feel Mana gathering around him.

"Flash of Merlin!" Arthur roars.

In an instant, his body becomes a blur of golden light.

Arthur's fist connects squarely with Renard's jaw, the sound of impact sharp and brutal. Renard is lifted off his feet and thrown backward like a ragdoll, crashing into the alley wall with a painful grunt.

The other bullies freeze mid-attack, their smugness draining away in an instant.

Arthur turns to them, his presence blazing, his Mana pulsing in the air like a living thing.

"You think you can bully Dominic and get away with it?" Arthur growls, voice low and deadly.

The bullies, eyes wide with terror, exchange glances.

Arthur takes one menacing step forward. "Anyone else want to try?"

Silence.

Then, one by one, they scatter like rats, leaving Renard groaning on the ground.

Arthur does not waste another glance on them. He rushes to Dominic's side, kneeling down.

Dominic slowly lowers his arms, his bruised face looking up at Arthur in disbelief. "Arthur…?" he croaks.

Arthur's fierce expression softens instantly. "Yeah. It's me, Doms. I'm here."

He gently pulls Dominic into a sitting position, inspecting the bruises with careful hands. His voice drops to a tender murmur.

"Let's get you out of here, okay?"

Dominic nods weakly.

Arthur helps him up, slinging Dominic's arm over his shoulder for support. Even weighed down by Dominic's injured body, Arthur stands tall, unwavering.

They walk out of the alley slowly, Arthur carrying half of Dominic's weight without complaint.

Watching them, something heavy settles in my chest.

Despite everything—the jealousy, the insecurities, the silent struggles—Arthur never abandons Dominic.

Even when he suffers under the weight of comparisons. Even when he doubts himself. Even when it would have been easier to walk away.

He stays.

That is brotherhood.

Not bound by blood. But by choice.

By loyalty.

By love.


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