NOVEL NEXT Chapter 113: Arthur Merinor
The march failed to maintain the silence everyone had desperately hoped for.
After circling the fountain on the street leading toward the center, Lachlan's battalion met its next nightmare.
Evacuated citizens appeared in the high-rise buildings bordering the road, visible behind glass doors and windows. They looked down on the hundreds passing by, their eyes holding no enthusiasm, excitement, or even basic support. Nathan saw only emotionless gazes, hostile glances, and unheard whispers; saw only wide, glaring eyes.
A few people raised signs, pressing them against the glass.
Get out!
Lachlan Rourke the rapist!
Hang Lachlan!
Stop this war! You created this, not anyone else!
Tell the king to stop sending soldiers!
We don't need a beast to save us!
Just when it seemed to be over, doors on several buildings opened. People stepped onto balconies and hurled filth down at the advancing army. Rotten fruit and kitchen knives struck the mana dome, rebounding to the ground.
"We came here to rescue Maelivar!" one soldier roared, his voice raw.
"Who needs you?" a voice called from above.
"Just as Duke Kael said," a voice echoed from another building, "if you truly cared about us, you wouldn't have sent Maelivar's enemy here to help."
"And Prince Daniel too!" a woman shrieked. "A perfect pair! What a match! What's your plan? Coming here to assault our daughters?"
"Caelindor has abandoned us, so just let Duke Kael and House Merinor rule."
The verbal assault grew louder, and more objects rained down at the army.
Nathan glanced sideways at Lachlan. The Major's cold eyes remained fixed forward, his steps steady and measured. Why didn't they walk faster? Why escape this cursed reception when they could savor every second of the suffering?
The soldiers grew restless, their faces pale at the citizens' reaction. This was a hatred none of them had imagined facing, especially on a mission of liberation. Whispers spread through the ranks, and the formation's discipline wavered.
Nathan heard words of self-pity and humiliation, heard questions of why they had to fight for these ungrateful people. The soldiers cursed and mourned their fallen comrades—deaths made meaningless, failing to achieve their purpose. Despair and futility mixed into a bitter draught.
Prince Daniel remained unusually quiet, neither protesting nor lashing out at the citizens and provoking greater outrage.
"The double-edged sword of what they call PsiLink," Nathan muttered, shaking his head.
"Exactly." Zeryn's voice was tinged with disappointment. "But it's also their way of finding an escape. They just don't know what to trust. Right now, this... this might be a performance to satisfy those behind the scenes. A show they're forced to stage to keep their lives."
Nathan looked up. He caught movements that lacked decisiveness—trembling hands, squeezed-shut eyes, teeth biting lips. When the people retreated from the windows, their eyes would flick back to where the army had just passed.
The victims in war were always the common people. They were the ones who didn't want their families to end up like House Nyralith. Did these people understand the dark future they were heading toward? But between two paths—immediate death or delaying the inevitable—a normal person wouldn't choose the first. Perhaps, deep in their hearts, they were praying for the army to succeed.
Lachlan's steady pace became more understandable. He was filtering every sound through some internal lens. Curses became welcomes. Insults became pleas. Screams became words of encouragement. Even the filth and knives became brilliant garlands of greeting. In such a vision, one could only walk slowly to savor it. More than that, one had to remain calm, unwavering, and fearless to display absolute confidence.
Nathan allowed himself a grim smile at the assessment. It was all speculation, he knew. But like the people in the buildings choosing their path to survival, he preferred to believe the opposite of what he saw, rather than lose heart.
The army continued on, facing a trial worse than any minefield or wall of flame. They walked in pain and humiliation.
And yet, they overcame the battlefield the enemy had prepared. Whether their psychological barriers had been shattered was unknown. They had no time to contemplate it.
Because Arthur Merinor was waiting for them.
Nathan had never thought he would return to this accursed square so soon. The image of that day, surrounded by those coveting his Titan blood, remained vivid. Darkan's silhouette still seemed to linger, a pillar supporting the sky before him.
Now, no one was here to help.
The earth and stone of the square had been cracked into fragments. Surrounding buildings were leveled. Even the debris had been pulverized, evidence of a destructive force this place had endured many times over. The chaos radiated outward for several hundred meters. Only one thing remained intact: the raised platform where four staffs had once stood, holding spatial power for teleportation during The Shifting Trials.
The wind did not blow in this isolated square, leaving only the sound of footsteps and breathing. Yet everyone had to raise their hands to scratch at their skin, as if something beneath it was trying to break free.
The battalion needed no orders to concentrate on maintaining their protective mana dome. Squinting, Nathan could see an invisible force swirling against the shield, creating small ripples on its surface. The Tier 1 cultivators in the logistics detail showed the clearest signs of distress; their strength was being siphoned away to contend with this unseen force, leaving them struggling to maintain their own defenses.
Lachlan finally came to a stop.
Before them, a lone figure sat cross-legged on the ground. As Lachlan's battalion drew close, another army materialized behind the seated man. They broke through an invisibility layer—just as the camp ambushers had—revealing thousands of soldiers. Standing before this new army were two young women: one with blazing red eyes, one with cold gray. Ruby Voss and Emrys Merinor stood silently behind the lone figure at the front, faces lifted, clad in fitted dresses and light combat armor.
The Maelivar soldiers were armed to the teeth, holding spears that radiated a frightening heat. They looked to be Tier 2 items or better.
The air between the two armies thickened, becoming almost palpable.
Lachlan stepped forward and gestured for Nathan and Zeryn to follow. He completely ignored Prince Daniel's glare.
"Did you enjoy our welcoming gift?" the seated figure asked without lifting his head. His voice was a hoarse grind, like sand on stone—heavy with age, slow as a tongue unaccustomed to speech.
"Arthur Merinor," Lachlan said, head held high. "I've heard of you for a long time."
"A long time?" Arthur's hunched back twisted as his head tilted. "You and I have very different definitions of "a long time.""
"That's a subjective assessment." Lachlan smirked. "Knowing you for just a moment feels like an entire age. Tell me, wouldn't you call that a long time?"
The most feared person in all of Caelindor stiffened. His entire body trembled violently, his loose clothing rippling. His laughter struggled to emerge, finally erupting as a choking sound, as if he was still unaccustomed to the muscle fibers in his throat. The persistent cackle made everyone's skin crawl.
"To me, that's a better compliment than any other," Arthur said. "This alone makes it worth decades of silence. Decades of locking myself in darkness, wondering when I could set foot outside again. Decades of wondering why I, one who held supreme power, had to bow to you people."
A sudden chill shot through Nathan's entire body. He glanced back and saw the same tension in the soldiers near him.
He focused on the figure slowly rising. Each creak, like metal striking metal, beat against his chest. When Arthur's knees were straight, he finally allowed his hips to roll into their proper position. A rattling sound, like... deterioration. Then his back crackled like falling pebbles. Finally, Arthur raised his face.
A face of only black and gray. He was gaunt, his cheekbones prominent. His lips were purple-pale, his nose hooked downward. Deep eye sockets held a pair of gray eyes. But unlike Emrys's, these pupils were tainted with a cloudy darkness, making Nathan feel as if he were looking at a blind man. His damaged and disheveled hair was pulled back by mana manipulation, twisted into a neat bun. Though he tried to stand straight, Arthur Merinor couldn't hide his posture—a permanent hunch, his neck stretched forward like a turtle's.
That lifeless face smiled, revealing teeth that were surprisingly healthy. Nathan realized that, with proper care, the young master would still cut a fine figure—a handsome, distinguished heir, one who retained that untouchable arrogance and steely determination.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"I thought you would turn back when you saw our gift," Arthur said.
"Even if I had, would you have let us go?" Lachlan shot back.
"Of course not. You have the right to run; we have the right to pursue."
"Then are you stupid for asking me such questions?" The Major's voice sharpened.
Arthur raised his eyebrows. Ruby and Emrys simultaneously stepped forward behind him.
Nathan had to give the two women credit. At The Shifting Trials, they had staged a confrontation so convincing it had misdirected everyone. He narrowed his eyes. What would happen if I revealed Ruby Voss's behavior?
"Why did you do that to House Nyralith?" Lachlan growled. "How heartless can you be? Do you no longer care about laws?"
"Don't play the moralist, Major Lachlan Rourke," Arthur said slowly, as if he'd already forgotten the insult. "What I did is exactly what you would do."
Lachlan opened his mouth, but Arthur waved his hand. Soldiers behind him immediately threw forward several poles with torn fabric fragments clinging to their tops. The banners of other battalions.
"Major, tell me," Arthur said. "If you tolerated a force attacking you repeatedly, you wouldn't be foolish enough to lie still and take it, would you? Or are you as stupid as I am?"
Lachlan remained silent, his hands clenched.
"I had opened a path for them, you see," Arthur continued. "But they wouldn't stay in their place, joining with Caelindor forces to bite back at us. Well, the first time I considered it a simple warning. But give them an inch and they take a mile. They joined with Adrian again, trying to overthrow me. So I captured most of them as prisoners. But you can't drill sense into stone. They actually dared attack a third time. Once might not be my fault, twice might be bad luck, but three times is definitely because I was wrong. And as a person, who wants to keep making mistakes?"
"You're not human!" a soldier in the ranks shouted.
"Silence!" Lachlan commanded.
But it was too late. A flicker of energy from an aerial position, and the soldier crumpled.
The battalion didn't panic, soldiers immediately rushing to care for the fallen man.
Lachlan's eyes darkened.
"Wasn't it you who just spoke about rules?" Arthur shrugged. "Your soldier should know that when superiors are speaking, he should keep his mouth shut, right?"
"Don't worry." Lachlan's chin came up. "He understood the risk when he spoke up!"
Lachlan's army slammed their boots on the stone in unison.
Arthur clapped slowly, his action as lacking in enthusiasm as his own vitality.
"I killed the entire Nyralith family as a deterrent," Arthur said. "It's war. Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same. Your father would certainly wipe out our entire house if he could. You're his son—I'm not wrong, am I?"
Lachlan's silence was his answer.
"What is it, little sister?" Arthur tilted his head, cupping his ear toward Emrys. "Ah, I didn't kill all of them, did I? Damn! My regrettable soft heart. But it's fine. He won't be able to do anything. Right! I was talking to you, wasn't I? Ah yes, I didn't kill them all. I released Laurent Nyralith."
Light flickered in Lachlan's eyes. A wave of emotion passed through Nathan. He had been Laurent's direct opponent in the final round. The Artificer's talent with his Cognition Aspect had truly been formidable.
"Of course, that was after I severed all his limbs and threw him into Mirothea's desert."
Arthur's words made Lachlan's face contort as if creatures were screaming beneath his skin. Disgust and pity roiled in Nathan. He knew of Mirothea's harshness—not just the environment, but people and creatures who would devour you alive. To be left there, limbless... it was a fate worse than death.
"I was once someone tempered by injustice and hatred," Arthur continued. "So I hope that young man will survive. He's truly a good seed to become a challenge for me later. What do you think?"
Mocking laughter rose from Maelivar's side.
On Lachlan's side, the three leaders gave no response. Lachlan's face was dark. His hand twitched, as if to strike out, before falling back down. Nathan shook his head inwardly. The battle plan... it was too flimsy. Without House Nyralith's support, this was just a charge into death.
"Nathan!" Arthur Merinor called out, his voice suddenly excited. "I didn't see you standing there all this time."
"I wish you'd keep it that way," Nathan replied bluntly.
"Oh! Don't be so cold." Arthur smiled. "That day when I met you, I couldn't even greet you properly. You know, disguises and hiding, all that. Today, I can finally stand before you openly and introduce myself. I am Arthur Merinor, the one who will make everyone bow down in this generation."
"Truly an arrogant bastard," Zeryn muttered.
"But I'm not wrong, am I, Zeryn Valtaris?" Arthur glanced over. "Does your family know you're meddling in this muddy water? Or are you just a discarded clan member with no significant voice anymore?"
"It would be quite shameful when you're defeated by a castaway," Zeryn said, the air around him shimmering with invisible blades.
"I doubt that." Arthur smirked, turning back to Nathan. "I'm only interested in Nathan. Without him, every plan we have now would have failed."
Whispers immediately spread throughout the army behind Nathan. He, instead of reacting, just half-closed his eyes, his gaze fixed on his opponent. He had spent enough time contemplating his own path. The butterfly effect couldn't be explained like this. His actions were just one of many that pushed the situation to this crucial point.
Nathan's pond-like calm made Arthur smile even more broadly, an action that twisted his gaunt face into a strange distortion.
"It seems everyone doesn't know about your actions, Nathan!" Arthur pretended to widen his eyes. "They don't know that without you, we would have failed. Maelivar would have escaped our grasp. All thanks to that dinner. Do you remember? The Aspect Affinity enhancement?"
Heads immediately huddled together. Nathan caught snippets of their discussion: confirmation of the feast he had organized, murmurs about Universal Root. The connections were becoming clearer in their minds—how rare Aspect Entropy was, how difficult it was to find suitable ingredients.
"I was just one step away." Arthur spread both arms wide. "One step from breaking through to Tier 3. At that time I was only Tier 2.9 after decades of cultivation. Pathetically slow. By calculation, I would need at least three to four more years to break through, to maintain this siege formation around the city. But even luck smiled upon me—she brought you to me, Nathan! Placing in my hands the only key to all current success."
Triggered [Tingling Sense]. One credit given.
Triggered [Tingling Sense] x 99....
Every kind of killing intent rushed toward Nathan from behind—not only from the soldiers, but also from eyes in the distant buildings. So, he thought, the citizens had lied about not wanting to be saved. And they had just found someone to blame.
Chaotic sounds of protest rose behind him, but he didn't turn around. He had chosen not to let such lies affect him after the incident with Vincent. Regret and remorse weren't meant for this situation. Allowing them would only make it easier for the enemy to exploit.
"You fools!" Lachlan roared. "Order! Do you think I would leave an enemy in our ranks? Let him cook for you? Or are you so ungrateful that you forget it was just yesterday that your lives were saved because of him? Stop doing what you don't need to do. Thinking and deducing is my job, not yours."
The army immediately returned to proper formation. The heavy atmosphere remained, though the chaos subsided.
"Tsk! You made everything less fun." Arthur shook his head.
"You must really want to talk, don't you?" Nathan smirked. [Bad Mouth] no longer existed, but his tongue hadn't changed. "Being muzzled for years means you have to take advantage of every chance to talk your heart out."
Arthur stiffened, then let out that ghastly, rattling laugh. "You're right. I really do want to talk. I feel like I've lost the skill of being human. People say once you're exposed, your psychology will collapse. Weird! Why aren't you like that?"
Behind him, Emrys stirred at her brother's words.
"Why would I collapse before a fallacy, a baseless accusation?" Nathan's voice was clear and strong, as if his subconscious had just found an escape route. "True, I played a part in your rise. But aren't all the things you've done just products of your petty vengeance? That twisted psychology of yours—is that my fault too? By that logic, then the fault also lies with the people here who turned their backs on you, doesn't it? But they had no power or authority to do such things. Don't splash dirty water on my head for your own cowardice. So afraid that you cower here, oppressing those weaker than you. Tell me, how are you different from Divine Tower, those you should be pointing your sword at?"
A whoosh—an explosive release of aura blew everyone's clothes back.
The young master of House Merinor's chin looked as if it would stretch to double its length under his pressed lips. His skeletal hands spread wide, veins bulging.
Nathan lowered his hand to shield his eyes, chuckling once. He felt refreshed. The enemy had wanted to use words and psychology to defeat them from the start, and he had just turned the tables. No one liked being compared to what they hated most.
"Shut up!" Arthur's voice was hoarse. "Those damned Divine Tower bastards. How dare you say I'm like them? They will pay, don't you worry."
"You make yourself out to be righteous, full of reasons to justify your actions, genociding an entire family," Nathan said, his heart beating faster. He knew he was playing with fire. "But look at yourself, you're just a loser thrashing about. Tell me, hearing a loser like that accuse you—isn't it laughable? Do I really have to collapse before someone like you?"
Arthur's eyes bulged. Emrys had to step forward and place her hand on her brother's shoulder, whispering something to calm him.
Lachlan gave Nathan a thumbs up. Nathan shot him a questioning look. What was Lachlan doing? Fight or don't fight, but instead lingering with this pointless verbal sparring? It served no purpose. Playing psychological games with Arthur only satisfied his ego but brought no chance of changing the situation strategically.
Is he dragging time for something?
Arthur took a deep breath, his bulging eyes rolling back into their sockets.
"Say whatever you want, Nathan Reed! Public opinion won't favor you. Right now, posts about our little secret are already flooding PsiLinks. You're cut off so you don't know, but the cursing isn't just for you, even the Major has reached peak hatred."
"I've truly never met someone as petty as you," Zeryn said. "If you want to fight us, then fight. Why drag it out like this?"
"Because why do you get to enjoy all the glory of being geniuses? Getting to walk in broad daylight? Getting praised by everyone for your bright futures. While your power doesn't even match a corner of mine? Zeryn Valtaris, don't tell me you don't feel the same! You're the perfect example of that, aren't you? What your family did to you—you must keep that in your heart. Don't you want them to experience the cold darkness you had to bear?"
"I'm not a petty person like you," Zeryn answered, his tone dismissive. "I have my own way to achieve my resolution without harming civilians."
"Nathan, oh Nathan, you keep calling me a hypocrite, yet beside you stands such a person as your close friend?"
Nathan didn't even blink. Arthur's mockery was useless.
When he saw he could no longer shake the army, Arthur straightened his hunched back.
"Defeating you is one thing, but creating difficulties for those related to you... the forces behind you... is even more important," Arthur said, his mocking tone gone. "No war should be brief in the small clash between us, should it? Reputation might seem trivial to you now, but Verdant Spire Sect is bearing unimaginable consequences."
All three leaders of the Caelindor forces remained calm, which brought a flash of surprise to Arthur's face. Nathan recalled Lachlan's planning: ever since analyzing the Universal Root's potential, Lachlan had pointed out these scenarios. The information had been transmitted to headquarters, to Alaric and Darkan, limiting the potential consequences.
Arthur's surprised eyebrow lowered into a sharp gaze as he clenched his hands. He raised one hand to stop his sister, who was trying to approach, driving her back.
"I truly have some respect for your preparation," Arthur said, regaining his composure. "But it doesn't matter. My goal will still be achieved. You must wonder why I opened the path for you to come here, don't you?"
At those words, Lachlan immediately crouched, signaling behind him. The army instantly deployed, drawing their weapons. Thousands of Maelivar soldiers mirrored the action, their powerful spears raised in kind. The sound of weapons and metal rang out through the space.
"If it were just your battalion, we could have blocked you outside if we wanted." Arthur smiled. "Maelivar's defense isn't that weak. Breaking your spirits would be fun, too. If you gave up because of that, even better. Otherwise, consider it my entertainment. You took just enough time to amuse me. Not like the groups before, who just came swinging and killing."
"To arms!" Lachlan commanded.
The battalion immediately split into smaller units, their precision far exceeding that of the disciples and royal teams.
Emrys Merinor and Ruby Voss barked commands to their own army.
"All forces, listen," Arthur whispered, his voice carrying clearly to every soldier. "Capture Prince Daniel Caelen and Nathan Reed alive. The rest... are free to kill!"