Level Up Legacy



In the second floor, the concept of war reigned supreme. All cities dedicated their resources to gain advantages over their rivals, striving to attain higher ranks in the Warring Cities event. Each rank up meant more food, security, gold, and influence.

This reality became abundantly clear when Arthur accompanied Lieutenant Hawkins to the city walls. Thousands of soldiers marched through the streets, the citizens cheering them on with adoration, hope, and showers of flowers.

"I've never seen an army so beloved," Arthur remarked honestly as he observed the spectacle. "Is this what happens when war becomes the primary means of survival?" he asked the man, who stood beside him atop the walls.

"As long as war persists, there remains hope among the citizens," Hawkins replied with penetrating eyes, a trace of pity in his gaze as he looked down at the crowd. "These residents understand that they'd be the first to be sacrificed if our resources ever dwindle."

"It's a bleak world we live in, Lieutenant," Arthur mused, sighing as he turned away. "You're a breath of fresh air in an era of self-proclaimed demigods and dragons among men. I've never seen someone of your rank speak to soldiers beneath him in such a humane manner."

"A wise man must recognize that hierarchy doesn't equate to strength within this tower," Hawkins replied with a smile. "I try to be wise, kind, and approachable, lest the man I'm conversing with becomes the one deciding my fate."

"Wise indeed," Arthur nodded with a smile. "So, when are we setting out, Lieutenant?"

"In an hour, at most," Hawkins answered, checking his watch. "Every squad is ready, except for one. Unfortunately, I bear bad news, Alexie."

"...how bad is it?" Arthur inquired.

"Lord Marshal has sent his son to join us in the upcoming war, and he wishes for the boy to be assigned to your squad for some reason," Hawkins explained with a sigh. "Dorian Stormblade has become as arrogant as any man showered with money, wealth, and women. He is vain, but Lord Marshal hopes that he'll change his ways after seeing your character."

"...this seems counterproductive, doesn't it?" Arthur questioned, clearly perplexed. "The Golden Division is supposed to be a cut above all others. Would Lord Marshal resort to nepotism?"

"Captain Jonathan would never allow it if that were the case," Hawkins assured him with a sigh. "The unfortunate reality is that Dorian is an unparalleled genius. Every weapon he touches, he masters with astonishing proficiency."

"Interesting," Arthur replied with a grin. "On a scale of one to ten, how annoying is he?"

"...ten would be an understatement," Hawkins deadpanned, his expression grave. Arthur chuckled, though he couldn't help but dread what lay ahead.

"Even as we speak, knights throughout the city are searching for him," Hawkins continued, "because he refuses to fight alongside the common soldiers, citing them as 'stinky.'"

"Am I allowed to pummel him into submission, Lieutenant?" Arthur asked, half-jokingly, as he looked out over the breathtaking city. "I've got a lot of pent-up anger inside me. Even if he's the Lord's son, I wouldn't mind."

"In that case, we humbly request that you do so," Hawkins responded with a bow. "You can rest until we depart. Meet us at the eastern gates in an hour, and you'll be assigned a carriage with the rest of your squad."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Arthur nodded, expressing his gratitude before the man took his leave. With an hour to spare, he decided to meet with Whisker, who had embarked on a mission to the Dark Cave.

As he made his way toward the exit from the walls, something unusual caught his eye. A projectile was hurtling toward him from a distance. His keen perception detected it even from a hundred meters away, and he was ready to shoot it down. However, he soon realized that it wasn't aimed at him. Instead, a spear landed at a distance, piercing deep into the ground, with a loose metallic wire attached to it.

Arthur was awed by the strength and precision of the throw, which allowed the spear to embed itself firmly into the brick floor atop the walls. On the other end of the wire, he noticed it was trembling.

"Is someone using this wire to glide down toward the walls?" Arthur pondered aloud, his brow furrowing as he examined the wire's thickness, which was capable of supporting a person's weight. "And where did such a spear come from?"

Just then, a faint scraping sound reached his ears, and he turned to see a figure descending along the wire. The wire spanned the gap between the walls and the castle, making the identity of the newcomer almost self-evident.

The man's leap was a breathtaking display of athleticism as he soared toward the fortress walls. His sandaled feet touched down lightly on the ancient, weathered bricks, and as his powerful frame landed, the very walls themselves trembled in response.

"Ah, I've managed to escape!" exclaimed the man in beige robes adorned with intricate golden motifs, throwing his arms into the air with unbridled enthusiasm. "And to add to the fun, those bothersome soldiers inside still believe I'm trapped within the castle! I can make my getaway while they're none the wiser..."

But before he could continue his triumphant monologue, Arthur emerged from the shadows, catching the man's attention. Their eyes locked in a silent standoff, and the man's arrogant expression twisted into one of distaste as if Arthur were nothing more than an irritating insect.

"Are you a soldier?" the man demanded, jabbing an accusatory finger in Arthur's direction. "Identify yourself!"

Arthur's response was delivered with a knowing smile, well aware of the kind of man he was dealing with. This stranger practically oozed arrogance, and Arthur's reply was designed to push his buttons.

"I have no such obligation," Arthur retorted calmly. It was almost tempting to strike the man just to wipe that smug look off his face. The man responded with a condescending smirk and a hearty laugh.

"Hahaha! You are truly ignorant, my friend, for not recognizing who I am! If you knew, you might just wet yourself!" he chortled, clutching his sides with self-satisfaction.

Arthur remained unfazed, countering with confidence, "Your name is Dorian Stormblade, the son of the Lord and a current deserter from your military duties." A gasp replaced Dorian's laughter as realization struck him. "Though we've never met, it's not difficult to discern your identity."

Dorian took a few steps toward an impaled spear, his hand slicing through the wire with astonishing ease, leaving only a few meters attached to the spear's end. He turned back to Arthur with a haughty expression.

"It's insubordination to withhold your name, especially when you know who I am," Dorian declared with authority. "You need a lesson in discipline, ignorant fellow."

Arthur, maintaining his composure, responded with a wry smile, "We're both new recruits in the Golden Division, which makes us equals." Dorian didn't grab the spear but instead coiled the remaining wire around his hand, his grin growing more sinister.

As Arthur examined Dorian, he couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance to the Lord Marshal. Broad shoulders, piercing eyes, and a nose that practically screamed arrogance. His hair was neatly trimmed on the sides but combed back in a way that emphasized his superiority.

Dorian, with an air of dominance, proclaimed, "Obedience isn't determined by rank; it's determined by strength!" He then yanked the spear from the ground using the wire, sending it soaring into the air. With a fluid motion, he spun it around himself, creating a deadly vortex of steel. Arthur watched the massive weapon hurtling toward him, wanting to slam its shaft into his abdomen.

"Dominance, you say?" Arthur responded, raising a single finger toward the approaching spear. A deafening explosion echoed through the air as the spear froze mid-flight, suspended by a mere finger. Dorian stared in wide-eyed astonishment before retracting the weapon back into his grasp, a forced smile replacing his earlier arrogance.

"Are you a lieutenant?" Dorian inquired with newfound interest, squinting at Arthur. "An ordinary recruit wouldn't have been able to halt that attack. They'd be on the ground, crying and begging for mercy."

Arthur advanced toward Dorian, his voice dripping with determination. "You initiated this confrontation, and I'm not inclined to show mercy, even if you were the Lord Marshal himself. As you said, strength demands obedience."

A grin crept across Dorian's face as he readied himself to unleash his true power. "I don't encounter many individuals as audacious as I am. Allow me to demonstrate genuine strength, my friend."

With another thunderous stomp, Dorian's body twisted, propelling the spear directly at Arthur with unparalleled force. This time, it was a torrent of power, capable of traversing the entire city without losing momentum. Impressed by the throw, Arthur realized it was heading toward his glabella.

"Precise, but not lacking in strength and speed," Arthur muttered as he sidestepped the projectile and gripped the spear's shaft, redirecting it toward its original owner. In a single fluid motion, he sent the weapon back toward Dorian, daring him to face his own attack.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!