Chapter 95 Slap On The Wrist

Aryan was assaulted by several experienced swordsmen, those who'd snuck under Arthur's false display of power. Once Aryan was distracted, Arthur quickly escaped the line of fire, allowing the others to attack.

A coordinated assault.

Jenny, Oliver, and a few others unleashed their most powerful attacks, causing Aryan to take a step back. But even that was dangerous, as Arthur was on the Ranker's heels, refusing to allow Aryan to take a break.

Aryan's longsword moved at terrifying speeds. He parried, dodged, blocked, slashed, and thrusted several times each second. His body was being worn down, as displayed by his erratic breathing.

"You…" Aryan muttered through unsteady breaths. "You're a fucking monster."

"You think I don't already know that?" Arthur inquired, raising an eyebrow as a testament to how oblivious Aryan was. "You know why that is? Do you want to know why that is? Only one person in this whole wide world is aware."

"I do."

"Too bad," said Arthur, thrusting Skofnung forward while aiming for Aryan's throat. The tip of the blade was coated in thick, crimson liquid. It dripped as the blade rapidly headed for the Ranker's neck, threatening to kill him.

However, at that moment, time stopped.

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, and his eyes trembled. His surroundings turned gray, and his world spun rapidly. Skofnung shook, and an enormous pressure weighed down on the crimson-eyed man.

Suddenly, color returned, and Arthur's vision blurred.

Thud!

His body collided with a wall several kilometers away. The sounds of shattering bones resounded across the area, and blood spilled from Arthur's body as he desperately tried to steady his breathing.

'That fucker…' Arthur let out a bitter chuckle internally. His senses blurred, providing him no information of where he was and how his condition was. 'Will [Judgment Regeneration] work? Will it?'

As a desperate attempt, Arthur activated a skill, and a crimson hue laced with vitality surrounded his body.

A few minor wounds healed instantly, but the more grievous ones didn't budge. Arthur groaned, complaining how this was the downside of having a powerful body. One couldn't heal properly if one was damaged.

'Well, I can't blame Aryan,' Arthur chuckled. 'I was about to pierce his throat…'

The man would be reprimanded by Olympus alongside the Tower Administration. However, considering his value to Olympus, he would probably be excused after a slap on the wrist, since Olympus's influence was massive.

'Again, that old bearded dumbass comes to mind…'

Zeus. That bastard. Even his subjects were a pain in the ass.

A few seconds passed, and Arthur–with the little vision he had left–witnessed the arrival of the medics. They quickly used healing magic, healing most of Arthur's wounds in an instant. His arm was regrowth, which was truly a miracle. The medics of Heaven's Spire were like Gods. His vision cleared up.

His mind gained clarity, and his senses returned.

He stood up, ignoring the searing pain that ran across his body. The medics pinned the man to the ground, finishing the healing process before allowing him to leave. Arthur walked across the exact path he had been propelled across.

The newbies were all unconscious. Other medics were quickly healing their wounds, while Aryan was nowhere to be seen.

Arthur let out a chuckle. 'I should head back. The training won't continue for today, anyway. I guess we'll have a new instructor tomorrow.'

It was crazy how things had gone South so suddenly.

'Thankfully, he held back,' thought Arthur. 'A Ranker's full power could rip apart a newbie with a mere gaze.'

*

In the end, Aryan was forced to bow his head to mere newbies. He gritted his teeth before apologizing, as that was the price for redemption. Olympus managed to free Aryan with a mere slap on the wrist, while the Tower Administration was glad that there weren't any casualties.

Each newbie–although it didn't seem like it–was valuable to the Tower Administration. Since they represented the next generation of players, as long as they managed to pass the tutorial, they were considered valuable.

Considering Aryan held back, the Tower Administration didn't mind allowing him to go without any charges.

"So he full on pounded you?" Randy asked, letting out boisterous laughter as he chewed on celery.

"Weird wording, but yeah," Arthur replied, shaking his head dismissively. "Jenny, here, had passed out before any of that happened."

"What the fuck was I supposed to do in the presence of a Ranker?"

"Not faint?" Arthur replied cheekily. Dino, Harry, and Randy were amused by the overwhelming training session, and continued questioning both the crimson-eyed man and Jenny. It seemed they didn't have anything better to do.

It was late at night, and the matter had already subsided.

The newbies were finally allowed to have dinner after a long day of training. Everyone was exhausted, but their torture had only just begun. It would escalate significantly as the training progressed.

It was all in preparation of the second trial, which would decide who became a player.

'The second trial is always difficult, no matter how powerful you become during training,' Arthur thought, letting out a sigh as he recalled his former experience. The crimson-eyed man, having only just entered the tower without any prior training, was barely able to survive the second trial with his life.

But, this time, he was prepared.

"How did your training go, Dino?"

"Terrible," Dino replied. "I have no idea how to 'infuse' mana into my sword. What the fuck does that mean, anyway?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Jenny replied. "Allowing the mana to flow inside the sword instead of coating it."

"Try doing it with no prior knowledge of mana," Dino replied in indignation. He began pouting, muttering undecipherable words under his breath.

The group conversed for a few minutes, finishing their dinner. Once they had eaten, they returned to their rooms in order to get as much rest as possible. The next few weeks would not be easy in the slightest.

And, before they knew it, the second trial would arrive.

Where death and destruction were simply the habit.

Where victory resulted in becoming a player.

But defeat resulted in death.

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