Level Up Legacy

Xeloria trembled under the weight of the unleashed spiritual energy, rendering its citizens unconscious. As the energy dissipated, a crowd gathered to witness the aftermath and identify the source of the overwhelming aura. A lone figure strolled through the streets of Xeloria, accompanied by nearly a thousand soldiers.

“Is this massive platoon of soldiers truly necessary?” inquired the man, a smile playing on his lips as he surveyed his surroundings. The knight leading the group offered no response, but his eyes remained watchful, reflecting caution in the man’s presence. “If my intentions were malevolent, I wouldn’t have permitted myself to be restrained.”

Despite his low volume, the man’s voice managed to reach the observers. The thoroughfare of Xeloria parted, creating a path for the prisoner. As word spread through the crowd, shock and bewilderment spread. This man wasn’t being arrested; rather, he had surrendered himself. The reasons behind this act were shrouded in mystery.

In the midst of the onlookers, a quartet stared in stunned silence. It was his companions, gazing at Seika being escorted away by the knight and an extensive battalion of soldiers. None of them felt compelled to rush forward to rescue him; they knew he required no assistance.

“How did things come to this?” Haldor questioned, his distress evident as he clutched his head, giving off an air of hopelessness. “What’s our course of action? Should we launch an attack now and attempt to escape? Or should we… Why are you all so calm?!”

The other three were preoccupied buying snacks from a nearby vendor. Not even Whisker, who was notably the most devoted to Seika, appeared worried. Haldor found it almost inconceivable that they could consider themselves his friends, behaving with such nonchalance.

“You must realize that…” Seraphine began, her smile directed at the procession, “Seika isn’t the one in danger here. Those soldiers are all afraid of him. The earlier aura that incapacitated them was of his own creation, by the way. He’s never displayed something like that before.”

“…Is he truly that potent?” Haldor queried as he began to calm down. Memories of the earlier aura’s impact flooded back, causing him to gulp audibly. Along with the rest of the populace, he had been overwhelmed by its force.

“We’re yet to witness the full extent of his might,” Sarohan commented casually, munching on a skewer. “Just relax and enjoy the spectacle. In the meantime, we can go about our business and rendezvous with him later.”

“…I get it,” Haldor conceded with a furrowed brow as he turned his attention back to Seika. The crowd trailed after him, eager to catch a glimpse of the newly arrived enigma.

—

Xeloria was an ancient city distinguished by its sand-colored structures and meandering streams. Arthur observed tall buildings bearing soldiers atop them, alongside upscale restaurants catering to affluent clientele. On the whole, the city appeared unremarkable save for its robust military infrastructure.

Soldiers filled every corner of the city. The group accompanying Arthur constituted a solitary platoon, he had overheard. Leading them was none other than the knight who had apprehended him, now escorting him to a cell.

Arthur’s rationale for allowing his capture was simple: they couldn’t harm him. This entire level was merely a stepping stone to him, granting him a sense of tranquility. While some might interpret his behavior as arrogance, he considered it an expression of confidence, regardless of others’ interpretations.

The soldiers directed him straight to the prison—a vast, single-story edifice. As they crossed the imposing gateway, they encountered another assembly of soldiers under the guidance of an elderly man.

“Cheesecake reporting, sir!” the knight who had escorted Arthur thus far announced. “The inspection arrays failed to penetrate this man’s defenses. He proceeded to unleash his spiritual energy, causing our men to lose consciousness. Subsequently, he surrendered himself!”

“He surrendered willingly?” the elderly man inquired with a furrowed brow. Bald and weathered, his eyes were framed by wrinkles. His beard was tall and white, fluttering as he spoke. “What’s your game?”

“Your name is Cheesecake?” Arthur inquired, taken aback, before bursting into laughter. “Why would you adopt such a moniker within the tower?”

“…You dare disregard me?” the elderly man questioned, his expression perturbed. Confronted by the query, Cheesecake furrowed his brows similarly. “I asked… what are your motives here?” The old man’s aura suddenly surged with rage, his face reflecting his indignation.

“A name like that within the tower signifies a lack of concern for mockery,” Arthur remarked with a smile, once again brushing off the old man. “I respect you for that, sincerely. I’d love to hear the tale behind that name.”

“Bastard!” the old man exclaimed, taking a step forward. It was at this moment that Arthur turned to face him, releasing his aura in kind. The two invisible pressures collided, and the old man was instantly brought to his knees.

“Calm down, old man,” Arthur addressed him, peering down. “Someone in your position ought to cultivate patience. Can’t you see I was in conversation with Cheesecake?”

“You… you…” the old man muttered, his fury morphing into fear. Arthur had compelled him to kneel solely through his aura. This feat earned him both respect and fear. “Take him to the main cell!”

Soldiers advanced toward him, shackling him with chains that guided his movements. Arthur followed without resistance until they reached a massive cell, where an individual was affixed to the wall. Just as they prepared to secure Arthur similarly, he paused.

“You can chain me, but I’ll break free in an instant,” Arthur announced. He then turned his attention to the armored knight. “You know I won’t escape, Cheesecake.”

“These are my orders,” Cheesecake responded after a moment, prompting Arthur to sigh. They bound him to the wall, limiting his mobility. The chains were infused with mana, causing them to glow. Arthur recognized the chains had been reinforced to thwart any escape attempts. The door to the prison cell shut.

Clang.

The metallic sound caught their attention. Chains fell to the ground at Arthur’s feet, as he had promised earlier. The soldiers and Cheesecake stared at him, flabbergasted, as he unfastened the cuffs and donned them once more.

“These will suffice,” Arthur stated with a smile. “When will I be released?”

“…We’re not sure yet,” Cheesecake replied, his brows furrowed. “We need to report back to our superior, who will make the final judgment.”

“Hurry it up,” Arthur said with a yawn, lying down on the ground. “I’ll be awaiting your lord here. Please make it snappy.”

Cheesecake seemed conflicted, lingering in place before departing with his men. Prison guards remained, their tension palpable in the presence of the unshackled Arthur. The new prisoner started a conversation.

“…Accused of murdering the lord’s daughter,” answered the chained figure in the shadows.

“…That sounds delightful,” Arthur replied, blinking

. He gazed at the figure for a prolonged moment before his eyes glinted with interest. “And did you commit the act?”

“I didn’t do it,” the shadow responded, squinting. “Is he sending you to extract a confession? As I’ve said before, I don’t know where she is.”

“Your concerns are misplaced. I’m simply inquisitive,” Arthur stated as he sat up, studying the shadow. “Even if she were murdered, she’d be revived within this tower, correct?”

“Not if killed by a demon…” the shadow explained. Arthur squinted and saw the figure’s true form: long white horns and ashen skin. His eyes, however, appeared human. “Or a half-demon, for that matter.”

“A half-demon,” Arthur mused, intrigued. “I have a demon friend. Never thought I’d encounter another. I’m curious about how you define yourself, being part human and part demon.”

“…Don’t pry into personal matters with strangers.”

The dialogue concluded there, but Arthur harbored no offense. He understood that a complex and tragic narrative lay behind the individual incarcerated here. Judging by his facial hair, he had been imprisoned for years, if not longer.

“Can you escape?” Arthur inquired, prompting the demon to regard him with a frown. Arthur sighed and hung his head. “I apologize if my actions were insensitive to those confined here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I made no effort to conceal the fact that I came here voluntarily, rather than being forcibly imprisoned,” Arthur explained, lifting his head. “Given that some here have spent their entire lives attempting to leave, I realize my behavior might have been thoughtless.”

“…You’re an odd one,” the half-demon remarked with a smile. “I thought nothing of it. Like us, you’re here for a reason. The difference is… you possess the strength to depart.”

“Strength is not a good reason to do as we wish,” said Arthur as he mulled over the subject. “A feline friend of mine said that principles are necessary to distinguish us from beasts. A man who does anything given the chance is no man, but a monster.”

“You have a wise friend. He should have convinced you against throwing away your freedom so easily. Although you can tear the chains apart, this cell is a whole other matter.”