Volume 02, Chapter 79

Temple du Calice de Convergence [4]

We stand before the massive, ornate door, its glowing runes casting an ethereal light on our faces. The intricate carvings on its surface seem to shift subtly, as if alive, pulsating faintly with an ancient energy that makes my chest tighten with anticipation.

“Here we go,” Célestin says casually, touching the door.

With a joint effort, we push the heavy door open, the creak of ancient hinges reverberating through the chamber.

As the doors swing wide, we are greeted by an awe-inspiring sight—a grand chamber illuminated by an otherworldly glow.

A pedestal stands in the center of the chamber, simple yet regal in design.

The Chalice of Merging rests atop it, its golden surface gleaming in the faint light. A large, flawless red gem embedded in the chalice catches the eye immediately, refracting the light into mesmerizing patterns that dance across the walls.

“There it is,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the room's stillness.

My heart races as I stare at the chalice, the final piece of the Manaficial Ritual almost within reach.

“Wait,” Arthur says firmly, placing a hand in front of me before I can take another step. His gaze is sharp, scanning the chamber intently. “There might be traps.”

I freeze, his words snapping me out of my excitement. Damn it. He is right—I have been so focused on the chalice that I have forgotten to remain vigilant. It is a rookie mistake, one that could have cost us dearly.

“Nah, do not worry about it,” Célestin says, waving a hand dismissively. “There are no traps here.”

“Okay, that is good.” Arthur turns to me, his expression softening slightly. “By the way, Clark… why are you collecting these artifacts? What is your goal?”

Célestin stiffens, his eyes flicking between Arthur and me, the lighthearted glint in his expression fading. He is not expecting Arthur to bring this up now, of all places.

I sigh, feeling the weight of the question settle over me. There is no point in dodging it, not anymore. Arthur already knows enough. He overheard everything back at the tent; hiding it now would only worsen things.

“You want more truth?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intend.

Arthur nods, his gaze steady, though beneath the calm, I catch a flicker of something deeper—concern, maybe even hope.

I inhale deeply before speaking, the words heavy on my tongue. “I am collecting these artifacts because… it is part of a ritual. A Manaficial Ritual,” I admit, my voice carrying a mix of guilt and resolve.

Arthur’s brow furrows. “Manaficial Ritual? You mean…?”

“It is an alternative to the modern Manaficial Procedure,” I explain. “But this one is not something you will find in any textbook. It is an ancient, forgotten process—older than most Magicians can comprehend. It is risky, but it is the only chance I have.”

Arthur’s eyes widen slightly, the weight of my words sinking in. “And how do you know about this ancient ritual?”

His words hit me like a dagger. Did he only catch that I was not originally from Sylvestria? That’s a relief.

I open my mouth, unsure how to respond, but before I can say anything, Célestin steps in smoothly. “I told him. Clark would not have gotten far without me, and I know a thing or two about ancient rituals. I filled him in.”

Arthur’s gaze stays fixed on me, his expression inscrutable, though I can see the questions brewing behind his sharp eyes.

“You are putting so much on the line for this ritual,” he says, calm but probing. “Why? Why risk something so dangerous when you could ask Uncle André or Auntie Celine for help? Or even me? I could help with the payment for the modern Manaficial Procedure.”

I let out a deep sigh, running a hand through my hair as I try to find the right words.

“Because… I do not want to burden you—or them,” I admit, my voice heavy with emotion. “I overheard André talking about the debt they owe to that… scummy fat guy after the Stargate incident.”

"Debt?" Arthur repeats, his brow furrowing in surprise. This is news to him.

I nod, feeling the weight of the knowledge pressing down on me. "Yes. They are already dealing with so much, Arthur. Adding the cost of the Manaficial procedure on top of that… it is not right."

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Arthur opens his mouth, but I cut him off before he can speak.

"And I also…" I hesitate, the words catching in my throat as I force them out. "I do not want you to pay for it either. A billion Camilliums, Arthur. That is not just pocket change. I have already taken over Dominic’s body; I cannot let you—or anyone else—spend that money on me. I am not even from this world."

It is also because the System will not let me use my Stat Points to gain mana. But I cannot exactly tell Arthur that, or the System will kill me.

"But it is not your fault, Clark. You did not choose to be here. You did not ask to take over Dominic’s body. None of this is on you." Arthur’s expression softens, but his tone remains firm.

"I know," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But that does not change reality. I am the one here now, living his life with his family. And it does not change how I feel. This is my problem to solve, Arthur—not yours, not André’s, not Celine’s. I cannot push this onto all of you. I will not."

Arthur’s hands clench into fists at his sides, his frustration palpable. "You do not have to do this alone," he says, his voice rising slightly. "Why can you not just let us help you?"

"No, you are wrong," I say, shaking my head. "You are helping me—right now, by standing here with me. This is not about whether or not I am alone. It is about me taking responsibility for my place here. I have already taken so much from Dominic—his body, life, and family. If I can do this one thing on my own, without dragging all of you into the chaos, then maybe… maybe I can start to make peace with it."

The silence between us is thick and heavy with unspoken emotions. Arthur’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he will argue again. But then his shoulders relax, and his expression softens, though the frustration does not entirely fade.

"You are stubborn," he mutters, shaking his head with a sigh. "Too damn stubborn."

A faint smile tugs at the corners of my lips, the tension in my chest easing slightly.

Arthur sighs, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he looks away. "Fine. Do what you have to do. But so that you know—you are not alone in this. Even though Dominic is no longer here… just seeing his face—the one you possess—it is enough. I will help you. Not because I have to, but because I want to."

His words hit me harder than I expected, and I could not respond for a moment. The idea that Arthur wants to help me, not out of obligation but because of his connection to Dominic, leaves me at a loss for words. It is… humbling, unexpected, and strangely comforting.

Before I can say anything, Célestin steps forward, touching my shoulder. "Arthur," he says, his tone unusually soft. "If you do not mind me asking… how do you feel? About Dominic leaving us, about him not being here anymore?"

The question is blunt, piercing, and unapologetically raw. It is not meant to provoke but to dig at the truth. It is painful, but it is the kind of pain that demands honesty. It is not just for Arthur—it is for all of us.

Arthur’s jaw tightens, his gaze dropping to the floor as he processes the question. The silence stretches, but I do not dare interrupt.

"It hurts," he admits. "I do not know why he would leave me—leave us—and have you here to replace him in this… world. I do not know if I can ever forgive him for that. But… I cannot fully blame him, either. If I went through what he did, I do not know if I would have the strength to stay either."

Arthur’s eyes flick up to meet mine, his gaze piercing but filled with emotions—hurt, frustration, and maybe even a glimmer of hope. "So yes, it hurts. It hurts knowing he is gone, that he gave up. But right now, that does not matter. What matters is that you are here now. And if you are willing to fight for what Dominic left behind… then I will fight with you."

I swallow hard, his words settling deep in my chest. He is not just fighting for Dominic’s memory but for me, too.

Arthur turns to me, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Clark. About the duel… even though you are not Dominic, the one who always overshadowed me… I still want to challenge you!"

His voice carries a mix of determination and something deeper—perhaps the lingering frustration of living in Dominic’s shadow or the desire to prove himself, even now. The duel we had agreed on at the Temple du Sceptre Lié—it seems he has not forgotten. He is still set on it.

I stare at him for a moment, taken aback by his resolve. A duel with Arthur is not something I can avoid, not if I want to keep things between us steady.

"Sure," I finally reply, keeping my voice steady. "I will honor our agreement."

-Clap!

Célestin’s sudden applause breaks the tension. “Alright! Can we focus on the task now that the heartfelt drama is out? Let us grab the Chalice of Merging and get out of here before something else happens!”

Arthur shakes his head but allows a faint smile to cross his lips. Meanwhile, I turn toward the pedestal where the chalice gleams under the soft light.

We approach it cautiously, the glowing runes on the pedestal casting intricate patterns across the chamber walls.

My heart races as I reach for the Chalice of Merging, its golden surface gleaming invitingly. As my fingers brush against it, I feel pure gold's cool, smooth texture beneath my touch.

I carefully lift the chalice from the pedestal, but the cold surface sends a sharp pain through my arm. The gem on its side glows faintly, refracting the light in mesmerizing patterns. This is it—the final piece of the Manaficial ritual.

“Now, let us get out of here,” Arthur says firmly, his voice cutting through the moment.

-Fwoosh!

Before we can move, purple smoke erupts from the walls, filling the chamber instantly. It is thick, swirling like a living thing, and the air becomes heavy and suffocating.

“There is a trap?!” Célestin exclaims, his voice tinged with genuine shock. “This was not here last time!”

I freeze, my mind racing. I am surprised even Célestin is unaware. How could he not know? Worse, not even the web novel had mentioned a trap in this chamber. Why would Dominic leave out such a critical detail? Had he not experienced this, or had he intentionally kept it hidden?

I quickly cover my mouth with my sleeve, trying to block out the smoke. But it is no use. The acrid fumes seep into my nostrils, burning my lungs and making my head spin. My vision begins to blur, the edges darkening.

Crap. The smoke—it is already infiltrating my system.

“Clark!” Arthur’s voice rings out, sharp and desperate, cutting through the growing fog in my mind.

But even as I turn toward him, my hearing begins to fade, his voice muffling as though I am underwater.

My knees buckle, and the chalice slips slightly in my grip, though I cling to it with all the strength I have left. My senses—sight, sound, smell, even touch—are failing, one by one. It feels like I am sinking into a dark void, helpless to fight it.

The last thing I hear before the darkness consumes me completely is Arthur’s frantic shout, filled with worry.

“Clark!”