Who was the Martial King?
Magnus Draykar.
A man born in the Northern Continent, the sole mid Radiant-ranker in the world—a rank above all others, standing alone at the absolute peak of human power.
He had forged his own Grade 6 sword art, carving a path that no one else had walked in his generation.
The man who had saved the Western Continent in the past.
A legend.
Rank 1.
And he was here, at the Creighton estate.
To et .
Alastor Creighton wasn't present to greet him. Neither was Rachel's older sister. That left Rachel to handle the formalities, accompanied by Kaelon—the estate's strongest mage, a High Immortal-rank powerhouse, and the official security asure for anyone who dared step onto Creighton territory.
And, of course, there was .
And the three other girls who were definitely not going to let face the most powerful man in the world alone.
We stepped into the elevator, the ride down heavy with tension none of us wanted to acknowledge.
Finally, the doors slid open.
And there he was.
A man stood in the grand reception hall, hands casually tucked into his pockets, posture relaxed—almost bored.
Dark green hair. Matching eyes. A presence that was both unassuming and utterly commanding.
His aura wasn't suffocating. It wasn't even imposing.
It was sothing worse.
It was contained.
We could all tell. The sheer, incomparable power humming beneath the surface, the kind that didn't need to be flaunted. The kind that could be unleashed at any given mont, with terrifying precision.
Rachel stepped forward first, her voice steady.
"Greetings, Martial King."
She bowed, and we all followed suit.
"I, Rachel Creighton, Second Princess of the Creighton Family, welco you to our estate."
Magnus glanced at her, eyes flickering with the briefest spark of recognition. "You've grown," he noted.
Then, slowly, his gaze moved.
Over Cecilia. Over Seraphina. Over Rose. Over Kaelon.
Finally, his eyes settled on .
And then—
He smiled.
A small, almost amused curl of his lips.
"I am here to greet just one man," he said, voice calm, yet carrying weight. "Arthur Nightingale."
Rachel didn't even hesitate. "May I ask why?"
For the first ti, the Martial King looked genuinely taken aback.
Then, he laughed. A short, quiet chuckle, as if the answer should have been obvious.
"I wanted to et the greatest genius of this generation," he said simply. "And perhaps… even train him myself."
Silence.
"Train ?" I echoed.
He nodded. "After all," he said, his tone utterly casual, "who wouldn't want to play a role in the making of the next Paragon of humanity?"
Magnus Draykar was not a man who wasted ti.
Within minutes of his arrival, we were in a private room—just the two of us. No guards. No surveillance. No unnecessary formalities.
Just and the strongest man in the world.
He leaned against the window, arms crossed, his dark green eyes watching with sothing close to amusent.
"You're not nervous," he noted.
I t his gaze evenly. "Should I be?"
His smirk widened slightly. "Most would be."
"I'm not most people."
Magnus chuckled. "No. You certainly aren't."
He pushed off the window and walked forward, each step deliberate, carrying a weight that I could feel—even if he wasn't exerting his full presence.
"I didn't co here on a whim, Arthur," he said, voice calm. "You've made waves. Big ones. And if what I've heard is true, then you're more than just talented—you're dangerous."
I didn't respond.
Because he was right.
Magnus studied for a long mont before nodding to himself. "I will train you."
I blinked. "Just like that?"
"Just like that," he confird. "During winter break, you'll co with . I'll teach you personally."
I exhaled slowly. "Why?"
His lips curled slightly. "Because I want to see if you're truly worthy."
Sothing in his tone sent a thrill through .
Worthy.
Not just to be trained. Not just to be acknowledged.
"If you prove yourself," Magnus continued, "you can beco my disciple."
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
This wasn't just training.
This was a chance to learn under the strongest human alive. A man who had no equals. A man who had reached the absolute peak and kept climbing.
An opportunity that no one had ever been given before.
I didn't hesitate.
"I accept."
Magnus's smirk returned. "Good."
Then—
His expression darkened, just slightly.
"But understand this," he said. "If you accept, there's no turning back. My training isn't kind. It isn't fair. And if you think you've pushed yourself before?" His eyes glead. "You haven't even begun."
I clenched my fists. "I know."
Magnus watched for a beat longer. Then—
He laughed.
"Alright then, Arthur Nightingale," he said, stepping back. "Let's see if you have what it takes to reach the top."
________________________________________________________________________________
After my conversation with Magnus Draykar, my fall break could finally begin in earnest.
Or at least, what was left of it.
Three days had already vanished, which ant I had barely a week left before the relentless pace of Mythos Academy resud.
Still, there was one thing I had to do first—return to Avalon.
I wasn't going alone, though. Cecilia and Rose were heading back as well, so we ended up taking the sa transport.
Which, of course, ant we were currently sitting in a ridiculously luxurious car that had co to pick up Cecilia, because of course the Slatemark princess had sothing this extravagant just lying around for personal travel.
Cecilia stretched lazily beside , her golden curls shimring under the soft interior lighting, before clapping her hands together as if rembering sothing.
"Oh! Right, Arthur—I had sothing to tell you."
I glanced at her. "What is it?"
She smiled. "Because of your hard work in dismantling the Redknot Guild in Redmond and for managing to deal significant damage to a Bishop, you're being awarded a dal for rit."
I inhaled sharply.
The dal for rit.
One of the highest civilian honors in the entire Slatemark Empire.
"The ceremony is scheduled for January 19th," Cecilia continued casually, as if she hadn't just dropped a massive piece of information. "Basically, right at the end of our winter break."
She smirked. "Congratulations—but don't make it a habit."
I exhaled, shaking my head. "I won't."
Across from us, Rose smiled before speaking up.
"Arthur," she said, her erald eyes warm, "would you be my date for an event my family is hosting this week?"
I raised an eyebrow. "An event?"
"We're celebrating our noble title's ascension," she explained. "My family's rank is being elevated from Count to Marquis."
I nodded. That was big. A title shift like that wasn't just an honor—it was a political statent.
"Sure," I said. "Just send the details, and I'll work it into my schedule."
Rose's smile brightened. "Thank you."
"And congratulations," I added. "That's huge for your family."
She dipped her head slightly, still smiling. "It is. And I'm glad you'll be there."
Cecilia sighed dramatically, stretching her arms. "Another event, another fancy party. Well, at least it'll be interesting with you around, Arthur."
"But you won't be coming, right?" I asked, glancing at Cecilia.
She tilted her head, golden curls shifting slightly as she smirked. "Oh, I absolutely will."
I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
She nodded. "Rose's family is becoming a Marquis. I have to be there."
I supposed that made sense. The Slatemark Empire had a vested interest in keeping tabs on rising noble houses within its territory. Cecilia attending would reinforce the importance of the event.
"Seraphina and Rachel won't, though," she added.
That also made sense. Rachel and Seraphina were princesses of entirely different continents. It would take a far more significant event for the Slatemark Empire to warrant their attendance.
Rose turned to . "Anyway, what are you planning to do with the rest of your break?"
"Work," I replied simply. "I need to catch up on studying, finalize things with Reika—"
Cecilia's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Reika again."
I sighed. "There's nothing going on with her."
Cecilia's crimson eyes drilled into , utterly unconvinced.
"I just need to get her officially into my guild," I clarified. "Kali told she tried handling it, but apparently, Reika insisted on talking to personally before joining."
Rose, who had been quiet up until now, casually leaned back in her seat. "Pretty sus."
I blinked. "Rose too?"
Rose shrugged, sipping her drink. "I'm just saying—girls don't usually hesitate this much over a simple guild decision. Sounds like she wants to discuss sothing else with you.*"
I exhaled through my nose.
"You're both reading too much into this," I muttered.
Cecilia simply smirked. "We'll see."
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