CHAPTER 37: UNEXPECTED

Arthur watched as Tarian fled into the distance, but he didn’t bother chasing after him immediately. Instead, he calmly stored the rest of the poisoned needles and the blowpipe he had used to launch the dart. What he had done was simple in theory, but it required immense effort and concentration to hit Tarian in an exposed part of his body. The sorcerer’s clothes were thick and could have easily blocked the needle from piercing his skin.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur put his mask back on. He was completely exhausted from overusing the magical tool, but it had been necessary. If he wanted to eliminate someone as strong and cunning as Tarian, he had to use all his strength and knowledge.

’I have to chase him. I need to confirm his death.’

With that thought, he sprinted after Tarian, carefully but swiftly. Luckily for him, the sly sorcerer hadn’t gotten far. His steps had slowed noticeably due to the pain spreading rapidly through his body. The poison Arthur used was the same one he had used to kill Edgar, crafted from a mix of toxic plants, a small amount of venom from an E-rank arboreal viper, and water boiled with a poisonous frog. It was a concoction no Boundless below Rank C could survive, let alone a fragile sorcerer with a body akin to that of a regular human.

Tarian’s body was drenched in sweat, and his wound was bleeding profusely. His neck had swollen and changed color. His breathing became extremely labored, and one by one, his organs began to go numb. Before long, he could no longer move and came to a stop. With the last of his strength, he turned and stared at Arthur, asking the question that had been tormenting him:

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

But Arthur didn’t respond. He simply observed him carefully. Even if he was dying, Tarian was still extremely dangerous.

Suddenly, Tarian shook his head, as if realizing something. With a voice full of grief, he muttered, "I understand now... That was his goal from the start. He sent us to our deaths... And I thought I was clever for figuring him out. But the truth is, we were dancing in the palm of his hand the entire time, like fools..."

Tarian let out a strange smile as black blood poured from his nose, the corners of his eyes, and even his ears.

He looked Arthur in the eye and spoke his final words:

"Tell your master, his plan will fail, no matter what it is."

’He thinks I serve the man who impersonated Arvan? In other words, he thinks I serve... myself? What a massive misunderstanding.’

Arthur was slightly stunned by the sorcerer’s assumption, but then suddenly noticed something in Tarian’s hand, a strange pendant. At the same time, his body began to swell unnaturally. Arthur raised his eyebrows in confusion, but within a second, he realized what was happening. His expression twisted in alarm, and he quickly raised his hand and erected a barrier around himself.

But he was a moment too late.

In the blink of an eye, Tarian’s body exploded like a massive bomb. Flames burst out in all directions, accompanied by a powerful shockwave. Trees shattered and caught fire, some turning to charcoal within seconds. The thorns around Arthur were incinerated, and if he hadn’t immediately reinforced the barrier, he would have burned alive.

Dust and smoke filled the air, turning the area into a thick fog of ash and heat. It took several minutes for the chaos to settle. When it did, the blackened, scorched remains of the thorn barrier became visible. Slowly, the thorns sank back into the ground, and Arthur emerged from the center, coughing violently and groaning in pain.

Cough!

Cough!

"Damn it..."

He cursed in a hoarse voice, seething with anger. He couldn’t comprehend how Tarian had managed to explode with such force. Sorcerers were known to detonate their mana cores and bodies, but not in a way that was both this fast and this powerful. Still, he couldn’t dwell on it, his entire body ached terribly.

Quickly, he retrieved a basic healing potion he had brewed earlier and drank it. A cooling sensation washed over him, dulling the pain.

After calming down a bit, he examined his condition. Fortunately, he hadn’t suffered any life-threatening injuries, most were just surface burns. However, his left leg was in bad shape, with the skin fused to his clothing. His left arm had also been wounded by a splinter of wood, and worst of all, the left side of his hair had been singed, leaving a red, bloody mark on his scalp.

When he raised the barrier earlier, he had hesitated a split second, and that delay had left his left side vulnerable to multiple injuries.

Exhale...

’I was careless... and now I’m paying the price.’

His rage simmered down, replaced by a somber calm. He quietly pulled out more healing potions, pouring them directly over his burns and wounds to disinfect and soothe them. Then, slowly and methodically, he took out a set of bandages, a metal scissor, and the last remnants of the first aid kit he had received during his initial login. He tore his clothes, cleaned his wounds again, and wrapped them in bandages. After drinking another healing potion, he stored away his mask, which had protected his facial hair from being burned—and though his face had turned a little red from the heat, he changed into fresh clothes. Finally, he splashed himself with more beast repellent and quickly left the area.

His pace was slower now, and his caution had increased. Fortunately, the surrounding area seemed relatively safe, and he didn’t encounter any dangerous beasts. After two hours of walking, he reached the place where he had left his horse. He retrieved it from within a thorn barrier and mounted quickly, fleeing back toward the castle.

It took him an entire day to reach the edge of the forest, but he didn’t return directly to the castle. Instead, he dismounted and slapped the horse hard to send it trotting back to the city on its own—it knew the way.

Afterward, he changed his bandages, disinfected his wounds again, swapped into a fresh set of clothes, and entered the dark tunnel through the secret entrance. He retraced his path and returned to the castle through the same hidden way. About two hours later, he emerged into the familiar cellar.

He quickly covered his head and adjusted his gait to hide his injuries. Then, with a proud air, he strutted through the castle like a king. Along the way, he encountered a few recruits who were shocked to see him emerging from the cellar. They wanted to question him, but the fury in his eyes made them swallow their words. In the end, they simply greeted him with respect and watched him leave in silence.

That was the reaction of everyone in the castle. Arthur had been missing for nearly four days, which had stirred unease among the people. Some thought he had fled and abandoned them. Others began to suspect he wasn’t the real Arvan. A few even believed he was spending all his time locked in his room, celebrating victory with his favorite maid. After all, she was so beautiful that many men desired her. But the fact that she was a sorceress, and more importantly, Arvan’s personal maid—was enough to make anyone think a hundred times before making a move. If they offended him, their heads would be hanging at the castle gates by nightfall.

Arthur walked through the familiar corridors of the castle until he finally reached his room. Casually, he pushed the door open and entered.

Inside, Octavia leapt up from the bed as soon as she heard the door. Panic surged through her as she looked at the person who entered. Her heart pounded wildly—had she been discovered?

But when she saw her master’s familiar face, she let out a breath of relief.

Her relief quickly turned to embarrassment, though, as she realized she was wearing slightly revealing clothes that exposed a bit of her soft, white skin. Instantly, she stood straight and greeted him respectfully.

"Greetings, my lord."

The world they lived in was similar to the medieval era in both culture and values. Women wore modest clothing that hid their bodies and, more often than not, preserved their chastity until marriage. Some were even harshly punished if caught engaging in inappropriate acts.

Arthur noticed her embarrassment but didn’t care. He wasn’t in a good mood. Calmly, he gestured for her to step aside. Octavia quickly moved to the side of the room, grabbed her servant dress, and put it on in a rush, doing her best to stay composed.

She thought her appearance had been indecent, so Arthur behaved coldly toward her. But then, suddenly, she watched as he pulled off his own head covering—revealing a large burn scar. She froze mid-action, a faint ache pulsing where the mark lay, before blurting out in uneasy concern, "My lord, you’re injured?"She knew she was crossing a line, yet she couldn’t hold back her worry.