# Chapter 157
—
Rain fell in a steady drizzle.
Thud, thud…
The sky was laden with heavy, dark clouds.
The downpour, crashing down with thunder and lightning, twisted the world into distortion.
Watching that scene from under a thin tent, Arthur muttered to himself.
*‘The past?’*
The reason he thought so was because of the reflection of himself in the rainwater puddle.
Sunken cheeks, dark circles hanging down beneath his jaw, hair like dry black straw, and a body wasted and shriveled.
This appearance was not the present Arthur Bayern, but the Arthur of the past.
*‘The days when I was being hunted by Dormund, wandering across the continent…’*
The problem was—why had he suddenly become this way again?
Just as Arthur began to sink into thought, he sensed someone’s presence.
Splash—!
Startled, Arthur tried to lift his head.
But for some reason, strength wouldn’t gather in his jaw.
Perplexed, he whispered inwardly.
*‘…Could it be that, back then, I really didn’t even have the strength to lift my head?’*
Astonishingly, that seemed to be the case.
A low gasp escaped Arthur’s lips.
He had known his body was in poor shape, poisoned and debilitated—but to think he had been so weak he couldn’t even lift his head.
Meanwhile, the footsteps grew louder by his ear.
Splash, splash—!
Someone was walking toward him, with clear purpose.
In this storm, what purpose could there be in approaching a half-dead man?
At best, a drunken vagrant.
At worst, human traffickers.
Arthur roused his vigilance, whispering to himself.
*‘If they come close, can I kill them?’*
To that question, his own head shook.
With a body that couldn’t even lift its chin, let alone kill, he’d be lucky not to get beaten senseless.
His lips quivered in hesitation—when suddenly, his eyes lit up.
*‘Oh. At least my mouth moves?’*
That wasn’t bad.
If he lay still and waited, then the moment the man drew near, he could suddenly bite down on his throat. Perhaps he could deal with him before being struck.
Smirking faintly, Arthur lowered his head even more, feigning unconsciousness.
Through the sheets of rain, the man’s footsteps drew closer, then stopped.
Arthur’s tension rose sharply—when a familiar voice pierced his ears.
“…Are you alive?”
Arthur’s eyes flew open before he could stop himself.
And there stood a gentleman, a little younger-looking than the Willet Christol he knew.
Arthur’s mouth fell open in shock, but Willet only muttered,
“…So you are awake. Do you have nowhere to go?”
Arthur tried to answer, but only a strained, wheezing breath escaped.
As if understanding, Willet didn’t wait for a reply. He simply extended his hand.
“Will you come with me?”
“…!”
“I’m not a bad man. For today, I can offer you a place out of the rain. What do you say?”
Arthur blinked in a daze, and then it struck him.
*‘Could this be…’*
Willet Christol.
This must be the moment he first met his teacher.
*‘That’s right… it was on a rainy day. That’s when I first met Master Willet.’*
A forgotten memory stirred, and Arthur couldn’t help but laugh.
“Haha…”
With a light heart, he seized Willet’s outstretched hand.
Warmth spread from Willet’s palm.
Smiling softly, Arthur whispered,
“Thank you, Master Willet.”
And with those words, the world blurred and dissolved.
The memory faded, and time began flowing toward the present again.
—
—
When he opened his eyes, a white space stretched out before him.
Arthur glanced around.
It resembled the place he had been trapped during Whitebeard’s curse—yet it felt subtly different.
There was warmth here.
And the rising droplets of water scattered throughout carried an oddly familiar presence.
As he stroked his chin, someone appeared.
*\[Arthur…!]*
Blue hair.
Blue eyes.
A woman he knew well, and yet—different.
Arthur muttered,
“Undine.”
The woman laughed softly.
*\[I’m not Undine anymore, Arthur…]*
“Ah. Then… are you Elquines?”
At his words, she smiled.
*\[Yes. The Undine you knew has become Elquines.]*
Arthur couldn’t hide his astonishment.
“Incredible… Elquines—that’s the Spirit King of Water, isn’t it?”
*\[That’s right. Does it feel awkward?]*
With that, Elquines nervously pinched the edge of her skirt.
Her awkward gesture made Arthur shrug.
“Hmm… it both suits you, and doesn’t.”
*\[Tch. Isn’t this when you’re supposed to say it suits me?]*
“I’m not one to lie. But still…”
Arthur smiled.
“No matter how you change, you’re still Undine to me. I’m glad to see you again, Undine.”
Elquines froze, her eyes glistening.
\[……]
She seemed to steady her breathing, trying to hold back the rising tide of emotion.
Arthur stepped closer and gave her a gentle embrace.
Resting her face against his shoulder, Elquines whispered,
*\[Where have you been…? Tell me everything.]*
Arthur nodded.
“It’ll take a long time. Is that alright?”
*\[Yes. I don’t have much time… but I need to hear it.]*
Arthur smiled brightly, and began his tale.
The fierce battle with Whitebeard.
The thousand-year curse he left behind as he died.
The seven years of absence that followed.
Elquines listened intently, until at last she breathed out,
*\[So that’s how it was. That’s why your existence…]*
She reached out and stroked Arthur’s cheek.
*\[You must have suffered greatly, Arthur.]*
Arthur shook his head.
“It was hard, but I endured. I even gained something from it.”
Elquines laughed, and the sound was so beautiful it brought a smile to Arthur’s lips too.
Then, a question arose in his mind.
*‘But… how did Undine become Elquines?’*
Even a high-ranking water spirit was extraordinary, but a Spirit King was a being on an entirely different plane.
The one who ruled over all the waters of the world.
In other words, a god.
So Arthur asked.
Elquines answered honestly.
*\[When you vanished, and I was summoned back to the Spirit Realm… I was on the verge of death.]*
Arthur’s eyes widened.
“You almost died, Undine?”
*\[Yes. That evil black mage’s spell was so powerful… my very soul was about to shatter.]*
Her voice drifted with memory.
*\[That was when the previous Elquines saved me.]*
A gentle smile touched her lips.
*\[The only way for me to survive was to ascend to a higher being. So he abdicated the throne, to give me life.]*
Arthur gasped.
“To willingly step down from being a Spirit King…”
He didn’t know much about spirits, but even he could tell what a monumental decision that was.
No king relinquished their throne of their own will.
Elquines chuckled.
*\[Fufu… it wasn’t such a grand thing.]*
“…What do you mean, Undine?”
*\[He did make a great choice, yes. But in truth, it was also the natural flow of things.]*
She swept her hand, and a mighty tide surged across the white space.
Arthur’s eyes widened.
Elquines explained,
*\[All rivers and seas flow. That is the truth of nature. And we water spirits are closest to that truth.]*
She snapped her fingers lightly, and the tide swirled around Arthur.
*\[Whether sooner or later, the change was inevitable. That’s why he relinquished the throne so willingly.]*
And the water vanished again.
Arthur whispered, watching the lingering droplets.
“Still… he must have been an extraordinary being. I’d like to thank him someday.”
*\[You’ll have the chance, Arthur.]*
They shared a smile.
But then the white space began to collapse.
Boom—!
Elquines’s expression froze briefly, before she shook her head and smiled again.
*\[Arthur. This time, it’s not farewell—only a parting for now.]*
Arthur frowned.
“Why?”
*\[Because your strength is not yet enough to summon me.]*
Arthur’s eyes gleamed.
*‘So that’s why…’*
That explained why he had coughed up black blood when summoning her.
*‘I exceeded my limits… and paid the price.’*
But why had he been able to summon her at all?
The answer came quickly.
The remains at the bottom of the lake.
The swords, shields, and armor-clad guardians of Arcane.
The miracle they had left behind.
*‘Tell Willet… it’s not yet time.’*
Recalling their dying words, Arthur smiled faintly.
“Elquines. I’ll see you again.”
She smiled too.
*\[I’ll be waiting, Arthur.]*
Their parting ended there.
There was more they wanted to say—but both knew there would be a next time.
This was not a final farewell.
And so, smiling, they let each other go.
The white space shattered.
Flash—!
As the light engulfed everything, Elquines whispered,
*\[Be sure to summon me again, Arthur.]*
Arthur smiled and nodded.
And then his eyes flew open.
“…Oh.”
He blinked at the white ceiling, then sat up.
Through the window, warm sunlight streamed in and brushed his face.
Arthur smiled without realizing it—until a familiar voice called out.
“Young master—!”
He turned, and there was Jeannie.
Behind her stood Julie, Professors Angelina, and the two elder scholars of Arcane.
Arthur was about to greet them when another familiar voice rang out.
“You’re awake.”
Arthur’s eyes widened as someone stepped forward.
Julie and Jeannie made way for him.
Arthur, still seated on the bed, smiled warmly.
“How’s your body, Master?”
“That’s what I want to ask you.”
Sitting down by the bed, Willet chuckled.
“Are you alright?”
Arthur shrugged.
Willet shook his head in disbelief.
“You really are… unpredictable. So tell me…”
His eyes gleamed.
“What miracle did you pull off this time, Arthur Bayern?”
Arthur chuckled.
“It wasn’t a miracle, Master.”
“…You’re saying my survival isn’t a miracle?”
“No. This is…”
Arthur smiled.
“…Arcane’s blessing. Not a miracle, but grace.”
Willet blinked, then burst into laughter.
“Hahaha…”
And he thought,
*‘He really is an amusing one.’*
A lunatic—yet not the kind one could hate.
And for that, Willet was glad.
The legendary mercenary of Arcane had returned.
The madman had come back.
—
—
Under the bright blue sky, cosmos flowers swayed in the wind.
Amid the beauty, a girl holding a chrysanthemum slowly rose to her feet.
Beside her stood a knight of the Seventh Circle—Haruden Phinis.
He murmured,
“It is time to leave, my lady.”
The girl, her hair black as night, replied,
“Can’t we stay a little longer, Haruden?”
“…If we delay, we may be late to the party.”
At that, she bit her lip softly.
Haruden noticed, but could not take back his words.
Today’s party was a most crucial occasion—perhaps one that could change her fate.
So he waited silently for her answer.
In that uneasy silence, the girl placed the chrysanthemum before a gravestone.
\[Arthur Bayern]
\[In memory of the duke’s heir, who was kinder than anyone….]
She stroked the carved letters, then stood.
“Haruden… I’ve made my decision.”
His eyes widened.
The girl with the black hair turned.
Successor of House Bayern—
Irene Bayern’s eyes gleamed.
“I will take my brother’s place. I will become the head of House Bayern.”
—
