Level Up Legacy

Chapter 1202  Are You Stronger?

A strange suspicion, sharp as a thorn, pierced his curiosity. The woman who had warned him of Oriole's danger… was she the source of that danger? He'd sensed no malice from her in their previous brief encounters, but in this world of schemes and betrayals, appearances could deceive.

He crouched at the edge of the cabinet, peering down through a crack in its crude wooden construction. The interior was dimly lit, the masked woman's back turned towards him as she hunched over a collection of vials and jars. Her focus was absolute, her movements precise and methodical. With a controlled breath, Arthur reached out and slid open the cabinet's makeshift door. "You are far from your usual clocktower," he spoke, his voice resonant and calm, slicing through the silence.

Startled, the woman spun, her body tense. The mask she wore obscured her features, but the alarm in her posture was unmistakable. "Who… how…?" she sputtered, her voice a muffled whisper behind the disguise.

Her surprise was his only advantage. As the woman fumbled for words, Arthur dropped into the cabinet with the fluidity of a shadow. He landed in a low crouch, black lightning crackling at his fingertips as he cut off her escape route.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he spoke, the warmth of any previous interactions replaced by a chilling resolve. "Why are you here?" His demand echoed in the confined space, a prelude to the tempest that was brewing within him. His suspicions, compounded by the strange confluence of events, had hardened into an icy certainty. She was hiding something, and he would have his answers.

The masked woman seemed to shrink under his unwavering gaze. Yet, a flicker of defiance sparked in her eyes. "I do not understand," she stammered, her voice laced with a tremor that betrayed a flicker of recognition. "Your eyes… they are the same as the outsider I saw in the Yalen library. The one they call Arthur, you are the one I trusted with the rebellion."

Arthur allowed himself a mirthless chuckle. "Allies? Perhaps. But your actions, your presence here…" he trailed off, gesturing at the alchemist's tools spread before her, a makeshift laboratory in this remote corner of the valley. "…Tell a different story."

He stepped closer, a relentless predator circling his prey. "Oriole – what have you done with him?" The name hung in the air, a whispered accusation laced with a simmering fury born of worry and the nagging sense of the world unraveling around him. The woman pressed herself against the cabinet's wall, as if she could merge with the wood and simply disappear. "I only intended to protect him." Her voice was trembling now, barely louder than a sigh.

"From whom?" Arthur pressed, his tone unforgiving. "From the Yalen Seer? Or was it a different kind of protection?"

The woman's silence echoed louder than any denial. He saw it in her averted eyes, the subtle tension coiling within her frame. She was trapped, physically and metaphorically, by her lies and his accusations. He closed the remaining distance between them with a single, purposeful stride. Towering over her, he reached out and ripped away her mask. The face beneath was young, etched with a mix of fear and defiance… and something else, something Arthur couldn't immediately place.

Recognition slammed into him like a physical blow. It was Nera, the Princess of Yalen. He had danced with her, disguised as a hero, at a ball in the courtroom. He had dueled with her during the Runes Apprentice Cup. The fiery rebel leader, his unlikely confidante – here, in this hidden corner, her face pale and drawn, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Confusion washed over Arthur's features. Despite the confirmation, this revelation contradicted the image of Nera he'd begun to construct – a defiant rebel fighting against her own. "Nera?" His voice was thick with disbelief. "But… you warned me about him. Why are you here?"

The questions tumbled out, spurred by a sense of betrayal. Was her concern nothing but a clever ruse? Had she always intended to lead him into a trap?

Nera's defiance crumbled slightly. "Oriole… he's kind," she began, "He never trusted me. Never believed I was trying to protect him." Her voice shook, a tremor running through it that hinted at genuine vulnerability.

"Protect him from whom?" Arthur pressed, his golden eyes locked on her, demanding answers. His cynicism was at war with the lingering memory of the passionate, fiery princess he had briefly glimpsed.

Nera's gaze flitted away, then back to him, her expression now painted with a mix of resignation and urgency. "My grandfather. The Yalen Seer..." she hesitated, "His desire isn't just about Oriole, it's what he knows. He wants to unlock the secrets of alchemy itself, manipulate reality to his will…."

Her voice shuddered, and Arthur felt a cold dread slithering through him. He knew all too well the corrupting power of unchecked ambition, of knowledge used for sinister ends.

A sudden tremor shook the treetop cabinet. An icy wind snaked through a widening crack in the makeshift door, carrying a sense of malice that had nothing to do with the natural forces of Giant Garden. The hairs on Arthur's neck stood on end.

"This presence," Nera breathed, panic rising in her eyes. "He found Oriole. He's found us."

Arthur's mind raced, the puzzle pieces refusing to align. The situation had taken a drastic shift, a whirlwind of contradictions and revelations that tore at his carefully constructed image of the rebellious princess. Yet, a sense of impending danger overrode his internal conflict.

The tremors shaking the cabinet were a tangible warning, the oppressive chill a stark reminder of the Yalen Seer's unnatural power. The air crackled with dangerous energy, a prelude to a clash that threatened to tear apart the fragile sanctuary of Giant Garden.

"My grandfather," Nera whispered, her voice a thin thread against the rising tide of malevolence. "But…" She shook her head, her gaze darting towards the widening fissure in the cabinet wall. "He's not… he's not coming for us."

Before Arthur could press her for an explanation, his focus was wrenched away by another unnatural tremor - this one a seismic shift in the flow of mana, a disturbance emanating from the depths of Giant Garden itself.

Nera gasped. "The empyrean... he's found him. Oriole is on the run!"

Arthur cursed, a surge of protective fury rising within him. If something happens to Oriole, not even the damn seven layers seal could stop his wrath from going berserk. "You want to protect him? Then prove it." Arthur's voice was cold steel against the wind that howled through the expanding crack. "Take me to him. Now."

Nera's eyes widened, a glimpse of that defiant spirit returning. With a swift nod, she reached into her quiver and drew out a gleaming arrow. But instead of nocking it, she whispered a command Arthur could barely discern, imbuing the arrow with a shimmering magic.

"Find him," she commanded, and released the arrow. It shot through the fissure, disappearing into the swirling chaos of Giant Garden. For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then, the arrow jerked mid-flight, pivoting sharply toward the depths of the valley.

Arthur didn't hesitate. He followed the arrow's path, leaping through the fissure and into the verdant chaos below. Nera was close behind, her movements fluid and determined. They followed the arrow's erratic path as it twisted and turned, drawn toward a presence both powerful and profoundly unnatural.

The arrow finally came to a jarring halt before a shimmering tear in the very fabric of space: a swirling portal veiled by the dense energy of the surrounding area. From within, a potent aura of temporal manipulation pulsed outwards, confirming the worst. The Yalen Seer was here, and Oriole was likely on the other side, trapped within the gateway to the other world, Alka.

Nera fumbled for her mask, once again obscuring her features. "My grandfather…" she breathed, tension lacing her voice. "I… I'll distract him."

Arthur stepped past her, a sense of grim determination hardening his features. "I'll handle the old man. He won't follow Oriole into that fissure… not while I'm here."

He strode toward the fissure, black lightning surging around him. His presence was an open challenge, a declaration of defiance against the Seer's monstrous schemes. As he approached, the form of the empyrean turned, eyes burning with icy intensity beneath a swirling robe of violet.

"Outsider," the Empyrean Seer rasped, his voice a chilling echo. "You interfere once again."

Arthur's reply was laced with a coolness that masked the white-hot fury simmering within. "That is my job, is it not? To stop you fools from doing as you please. I have one question, old man. Are you stronger than Osian the Invincible?"