CHAPTER 73: DON’T PUSH YOURSELF

"How are you feeling now?" Arthur asked gently, kneeling before the Goddess he served.

Tiamuth looked up, her expression tired. "I’m fine... I was just testing if I could go a few months without sleep."

Ever since the excruciating pain she felt after the binds were broken, she had begun to question if she was still truly immortal.

So, she stayed awake for as long as she could. But now, with her eyes growing heavier by the day, she knew—something wasn’t right.

"You could pass the time with games," Arthur suggested, trying to lighten the mood. "Something like puzzles?"

"What’s that?" Tiamuth’s ears perked up, a spark returning to her eyes. "I haven’t been out in ages."

She had been painfully bored ever since she regained feeling in her hands. It was like being only half-free. Though she could now move in the small space around her, there was little she could actually do.

"I have been visiting you, you know," came a familiar voice—calm, steady, and warm.

Arthur turned to see her: a woman walking toward them, her eyes hidden behind the veil she always wore.

"It’s been a while, Aurelia," he said with a small smile, then turned back to Tiamuth and began gently arranging her silky hair.

The fallen Goddess stiffened at first, surprised by the tenderness—but then stayed still, quietly accepting his touch.

Aurelia sat down nearby, choosing a spot where she could see both of them. Her presence brought a calmness to the space.

"I owe you more than I can say," she said softly, bowing her head. "Thank you... for protecting Elowen."

Arthur let out a long sigh. "Did you truly have no idea it was a Vowen?" he asked, his gaze still resting on the soft strands of Tiamuth’s silver hair.

It wasn’t a complete mess—just lightly tangled, probably from her foolish attempt to remain awake, she must have moved around a lot.

Tiamuth didn’t react to the mention of the demon that had attacked the Apostle. Not even a flicker of interest. She didn’t care, not in the slightest.

Aurelia, on the other hand, looked genuinely disheartened. "No," she said quietly. "I couldn’t glimpse that part of the future... the moment where Elowen might have died. It remained hidden from me."

Arthur nodded slowly, still combing through Tiamuth’s hair with gentle fingers. "Couldn’t you have sent Eric instead?" he asked. "That battlefield... it felt like it was meant for him."

Aurelia shook her head faintly. "Now that I know it was a Vowen behind Elowen’s fall, I’m relieved I didn’t. He might not have returned."

Arthur inhaled deeply, a trace of frustration in his breath. "You’re underestimating him. Eric’s devotion runs deeper than you think."

The true terror of a Vowen lies in its ability to twist belief. For someone like Elowen—whose connection to her deity was strong and pure—it would have been like drowning in abandonment. That sense of helplessness... it wasn’t physical. It was spiritual. Crushing.

Just as it would be for anyone with unwavering faith.

However, Eric was different in that aspect. He hasn’t submitted himself to the deity completely as of now, but the strength he possesses is not something to take lightly.

Aurelia let out a weary sigh, her gaze distant. "The cycle of reincarnation shifts everything, child. Memories fade, personalities reshape... Unless someone like you views the world through a wider lens—knowing the full story—perspective is destined to change."

Arthur’s brow furrowed. "You mean to say... Eric might not grow up to be the same hero the world once revered?"

Aurelia hesitated, her voice softer now. "He may not turn toward Darkness... but this time, he might question the very beings he once followed without doubt."

Arthur scoffed under his breath. "Then perhaps I’ll get along with this one better." There was a hint of irony in his tone, almost a smile.

There were a few things about Eric Dawnhec that bothered Clarsen a lot.

To Arthur, the former hero was a man blinded by ideals—justice, order, righteousness. A man willing to sacrifice one to save a thousand... and just as willing to slaughter thousands if he believed it would bring peace.

Eric wasn’t cruel. He was resolute. Unyielding. Dangerous in the way only true heroes could be.

He was what humanity once called their greatest champion.

But Arthur? He had always seen something else.

"I can’t force my will on anyone," Aurelia said gently, a faint smile tugging at her lips, weary yet warm. "But I do hope... that you and the Child of Hope will be the ones to bring an end to the adversary. This world has suffered long enough."

Arthur gave a small shrug as he finished untangling Tiamuth’s silver hair. With a quiet tug, he pulled her closer and guided her to rest against his lap.

"What are you doing?" she murmured, her eyes tinged with red—whether from fatigue or emotion, it was hard to tell.

"Trying to make you sleep, maybe?" he replied casually. Then, glancing up at the Goddess of Fortune, he asked with sudden curiosity, "Hey... can I get her a game or something next time? She seems bored out of her mind."

Aurelia blinked, taken aback. "Tiamuth is bored? I thought she found watching your life entertaining."

Tiamuth grumbled under her breath, "He’s done nothing but train with spirits for weeks. Boring is putting it kindly."

Arthur chuckled dryly. "So I’ve got no privacy, huh?" Then with a sigh, he added, "Well, it can’t be helped. I need to be ready. In a year and a half, I’ll be joining the academy."

And if even half the rumors were true, hell would break loose the moment he stepped through those gates.

Lately, Arthur had been traveling from city to city, not just to build his strength, but to acquaint himself with the remaining two spirits. Synchronizing with them was critical—only through familiarity could they achieve true efficiency in battle.

But the Flame Spirits were unpredictable, almost mischievous in their own fiery way. The Wind Spirits, on the other hand, were elegant but proud—too proud to bond with someone who didn’t earn their respect.

He needed to be patient. Earn their trust. Otherwise, he wouldn’t just lose their favor—he’d lose their fire and wind altogether.

"This space is yours to shape, child. Let your imagination run free. Create a game you think she’ll enjoy," Aurelia said, giving Arthur the freedom.

Arthur raised a brow. "So I can create anything?"

"As long as it doesn’t involve magic or anything dangerous that could harm me—yes, anything," she replied with a small smile.

Arthur gave a dry chuckle. "Threaten your life, eh? Unless Tiamuth regains her powers, nothing could threaten you."

He shook his head and turned to the left, summoning a few simple games—puzzles, checkers, and some origami.

Checkers was the only one he truly enjoyed, but knowing Tiamuth’s personality, he figured she’d have fun with the others too.

"I must go now, child. I hope this time brings you something good," Aurelia said softly. Her form glowed brighter and brighter, making Tiamuth groan as the Goddess of Fate slowly faded into glowing fragments.

"She’s annoying," the fallen goddess muttered.

Arthur let out a light laugh. "At least she left you something to keep you from getting bored."

Tiamuth shrugged. "She’s not doing this for me. It’s all for you. You’re more useful to her than her own Apostle."

Arthur already knew that—especially after meeting Aurelia’s chosen one.

Weak. Helpless.

He couldn’t hide his disappointment.

Back when he first went to Durnhalm, he thought he’d be fighting alongside a strong Apostle. Someone he could rely on. Instead, all he got was a cocky princess who clung to him for dear life the moment the demon showed up.

"Hey," his cheeks were held by her, "Why are you forcing yourself?"

Her words caught him off guard, "What do you mean?"

"You have been training all your day. Just an hour of true rest is not healthy for the human body." She seemed serious.

Arthur exhaled a sigh, "You know it takes time to grow the efficiency with the other spirits."

Water Spirits are cooperative, so he can train with them even while resting without making himself exhausted. But the other three spirits, especially the Wind ones, are quite tough to get along with.

He has been putting in extra effort.

"Haven’t you realized something even after coming across that demon?" Tiamuth asked, making Arthur confused.

"What do you mean?"

Tiamuth clarified, "The demons of this era are quite weaker in comparison. The Vowen you faced was regarded as a Calamity-class."

"...and why does it matter how many hours I train? " He asked, still confused.

Tiamuth rolled her eyes in exasperation, "That means Argrouth’s blood has turned weaker because he is living on the last fragment of his existence. "

Arthur now realizes, "You mean to say...I don’t need to become proficient with all the elements since it’s not necessary to defeat the true evil?"

"Exactly. You are needlessly pushing yourself." She finally lowered her arms and closed her eyes with her hands resting on her chest.

A brief pause settled before Arthur said, "Okay then...I might as well spend some more time with my family while I can."

"Mm...you should." She mumbled in a daze, drifting into a slumber.

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A/N:- Thanks for choosing my work.