CHAPTER 74: DISCIPLE CULTIVATION SYSTEM CH74 FIRST OF MANY VICTORIES.

A searing pain tore through Art’s back, penetrated through his flesh, and tore back out of his body on the other side.

The sensation, one he could only describe as agonizing, caused him to collapse onto his knees where he clutched the tip of the blood spear coming out of his chest.

"Cough..."

Large volumes of blood spilled out of his mouth, tainting the sandy asphalt red.

"Valaria!"

As he tried pulling out the spear from within him, he called out to the girl responsible for this.

"You survived..."

He sounded almost proud.

He then applied more force into his arms to push out the spear but...

[I will onto chaos, this words. Thou word is loom and thou magic is thread. I weave onto thee binds of unmoving.]

[Luminous Catena.]

A distant chant hummed, commanding particles of light off the ground.

The particles, rearranging themselves into complex patterns across the sand, began to ripple with a soft glow.

The glow gave birth to golden chains that snaked forward and latched onto Art’s limbs.

"Cough..."

Strengthening his arms with aura, he tried to break free from their bind but...

"Ugh..."

The chains burned him, causing him to let out a low grunt.

"It’s useless."

A calm voice stepped before him, watching him struggle in pain.

"I laced the spear in your back with my blood."

"Demon blood." Art mused, watching the silver-haired girl with an intense look.

She was Kiara, and while her grandfather was human, she wasn’t. He had taken a demon as his wife and those traits had been passed on from Kiara’s father and finally onto her.

Meaning she was a quarter demon.

And if there was anything demons hated more than anything, it would be holy and light magic.

"My blood has temporarily been mixed with yours, and the spell will mistake you as one... a demon."

"Shit!"

Art cursed, looking at the four individuals that now faced him.

Enko, exhausted from continuously blocking his pressure, leaned against Valaria, who offered her support.

There was also Kai, who, wiping his bloody lips, watched him in contempt.

"The symbols on the ground... are they runes?"

Art muttered in curiosity, now understanding the intent of the sand.

It had been in his face but he still overlooked it.

The footwork and every movement made on the sand had been used to construct a pattern that contributed to the spell that now bound him.

"You four came up with this?" He asked, impressed by their thinking.

"I created the magic. Kai and Enko distracted you, and Valaria not only landed the finishing blow but also gave us some insight about that act of yours."

"....."

Kiara’s words stung much harder than he expected.

He had been acting more miserable and desperate lately, but it was half-truth and lie.

He was actually really tense after the multiple diversions and the mystery he had come across under the crimson moon, but they weren’t enough to make him grumpy.

After all, he was the king of adaptivity.

"Heh..."

Ignoring the burns of the chains, he moved forward, causing more chains to whip out and wrap around him.

"Can you eliminate me before I escape?"

Continuously pouring aura into his body to strengthen it, he took a step... his muscles groaning from resistance.

More chains followed, but he still persisted and took another one... this time more painful than the last.

The spear lodged in his chest began to crack, but Kiara was unmoved. She faced him head on until Art was inches away from her.

"You’ve reached your limit."

Just as she declared, Art could no longer move. Every part of his body, with the exception of his face, was bound by golden chains, each tightening and crushing him from within.

"Now let’s finish this."

Creating a final ice spear, she passed it to Valaria and instructed her to land the final blow.

"Wait. If I do that, wouldn’t I earn all the points?"

She said, unwilling to take all the credit for herself.

"I don’t need ranks to decide my worth." Kai chimed in, after which he lost himself in thought.

Valaria turned to Enko, who leaned against her.

"I lost to Trish. Until I can reclaim my honor, I don’t deserve to be awarded the strongest."

Her performance against Trish didn’t only leave her with emotional scars but also a sense of re-evaluation.

She didn’t just have to build her body but also toughen her mental psyche.

Until that happened, she didn’t want any titles.

"What about you?"

Finally, she presented that question to Kiara, who was having a heated stare-down with Art.

"I’ll pass. I found something more interesting."

Mages—especially those who proclaimed themselves witches—were curious people.

She hadn’t yet attained that title, but she had to start from somewhere.

And where else but the man who stole Trish’s heart?

"Okay!"

Valaria was still hesitant since she herself didn’t find herself worthy of this honor.

For starters, how would the academy be able to explain that their strongest first year couldn’t even use her assigned energy?

It was depressing to just think of that, but since no one wanted it, she would snatch it.

She believed at least she would grow into said role eventually.

"You..."

Walking to the chained Art, she spun the spear in her hand and pointed its tip straight at his head.

"...you gave bad advice."

Resigning himself to a painful fate, Art felt his head pierced through, leaving his mind blank.

---

"He didn’t use a technique, but his aura and intent are abnormal."

The Sword Saint, having been engrossed in Art’s battle against the students, finally redrew her gaze once it was over.

Golden aura was always a sign of promise.

As a matter of fact, throughout the entire planet, she could only count a few who had such a color.

"Have you investigated his background? Maybe he could be a descendant of the otherworlders of old."

Crossing her legs, she inquired from Cassandra, who sighed.

"Raviel is currently working on it, but for now we’ve got nothing. As far as we’re concerned, his mother is just a normal single parent and his late father wasn’t anything impressive either."

"I see. What about the sword... does he have the qualifications to wield it?"

"I haven’t yet tested it, but the possibility is high." Cassandra said, thinking back to the ceremonial blade hidden deep within the academy tomb.

"If he really has the qualifications, then the fact that he has appeared now means a disaster is near."

In old times, the appearance of someone whom can wield the ceremonial blade meant a demon lord had either been born or was about to be born.

If Art really had the qualifications to be a Hero, it meant the demons—or someone even more sinister—was about to create an uprising.

Such a grim conclusion was all the two women could come to after examining Art’s existence.