Chapter 51 - I'm…Back

I blink, my vision gradually adjusting to the harsh light filling the room. As I slowly sit up, I take in my surroundings: pristine white walls and neatly arranged medical equipment. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air, confirming the obvious—I’m in a hospital.

A slight pressure rests on my chest. I glance down and see a large bandage covering the spot where the pain had once seared through me. The memory of being impaled flashes in my mind, and I touch the bandage gingerly, half-expecting a sting of pain. But there’s nothing. Only the dull echo of an injury long gone.

“Is this where I got… stabbed?” I murmur, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. The events that brought me here are a blur, fragmented pieces that refuse to fit together.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a mirror. Hesitantly, I turn toward it. The face staring back at me isn’t Clark’s—it’s Dominic’s.

“So… chatting with Dominic in Japan was… a dream?”

The realization hits like a punch to the gut. The moments spent in Tokyo, walking through its streets, hearing Dominic’s playful remarks—all of it felt real. Yet now, those memories dissolve like smoke in the air, leaving behind nothing but a hollow ache.

One thing, however, remains clear: Dominic’s promise… no, more like the promise he made me swear.

He promised to protect my parents back on Earth, while I—without fully understanding how or why—promised to protect his family and friends here in Sylvestria. It wasn’t even my promise to make; somehow, it has become my burden.

“Dominic… your promise… and the promise you made me make…” The words linger in the sterile air, as heavy and unfinished as the emotions they carry.

Why did I agree? Why do I feel this compulsion to take on this responsibility? I didn’t say those words—he did. It wasn’t my promise, yet here I am, feeling as though this duty to protect his loved ones is now mine.

The reality of being back in Sylvestria crashes over me like a cold wave. This chaotic world, filled with looming threats, is the last place I want to be. I wanted to be stronger, to prepare for the dangers I know are coming. But deep down, I crave peace—a chance to live this second life safely.

But…

Dominic's desperate face flashes in my mind—his eyes filled with desperation, his voice raw with emotion as he pleaded with me not to give up. That moment stirs something deep within me, a feeling I can’t easily dismiss.

A war rages within me. I want safety, a life free from fear and fighting. But Dominic’s faith in me, his belief in my strength, haunts me. Part of me wants to believe in that strength, too, to become someone capable of protecting those he cares about.

But why should I? Why should I risk everything for a world that isn’t even mine?

I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The responsibility I never asked for presses down on me, yet… there’s an inexplicable pull—a need to fulfill this promise, even if it feels like a chain around my neck.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I just want to be safe… but…”

The conflict churns, tearing me apart. One side of me yearns for the peace and security I glimpsed in that dream-like version of Earth, far away from this chaos. But the other side, the part Dominic touched, whispers that I can’t just turn my back. I have to get stronger—to face whatever lies ahead.

I don’t want this life. I don’t want to be here. Yet, I can’t ignore the feeling that I have a role in Sylvestria’s future—a future Dominic thrust upon me.

I sit there, staring blankly at the mirror, caught between two worlds, two promises, and an uncertain path forward.

Safe or strong?

I don’t know which is right.

–Creak!–

The soft creak of the door jolts me from my turbulent thoughts. I turn, and there stands Arthur, frozen in the doorway. His eyes widen, disbelief flashing across his face as they lock onto mine.

Seeing him again sends a surge of emotion through me—relief, joy, and a knot of tension I can’t quite unravel. Should I be glad, knowing Dominic’s best friend, someone who genuinely cares, is here? Or should I be wary, knowing he’s one of the people I’m now bound to protect? A promise I didn’t choose, yet one I feel obligated to keep.

“Arthu—”

“Doms!” he exclaims, rushing forward. He wraps me tightly, squeezing with such force that it almost knocks my breath out. “I’m so glad you woke up.”

The warmth of his hug, the way he trembles against me, overwhelms me. His tears dampen my shoulder, each drop a testament to his relief and concern.

Arthur’s raw vulnerability and unguarded concern for me are almost too much to bear. In my previous life, I never had a best friend. I never knew what it felt like to have someone other than my parents care this deeply. And yet… here he is, holding onto me as if his world would collapse if I slipped away again.

“You’re back… I thought I lost you for good…” Arthur’s voice cracks as he tightens his grip, refusing to let go.

His reaction shakes something loose inside me—a fierce, protective urge I can’t ignore. It doesn’t matter that Dominic imposed this promise on me. At this moment, standing here with Arthur… I want to keep it. Not because I have to but because… I care.

“Yeah… I’m… back…” I whisper, my arms hesitantly wrapping around him in return.

We stand there, enveloped in heavy silence, as if the world outside these walls doesn’t matter. But as much as I want to relish this peace, questions gnaw at the back of my mind.

How did Arthur manage to get me back here? Especially when he was injured? And how did I survive being stabbed?

“Arthur… how?” I murmur, gently pulling away to look him in the eyes, searching for answers.

He hesitates, his gaze dropping before he speaks. “I… I pulled you out of the temple. It wasn’t easy, but people helped us once we got outside. They rushed us here, gave us healing potions, but you…”

He trails off, his brow furrowing.

I narrow my eyes, sensing there’s more he’s not saying. “I what?”

Arthur meets my gaze, his voice quiet and unsure. “Your body had already healed when we got here. Sure, your clothes were soaked in blood, but the wound… it was gone. Like it had never happened.”

My body… healed on its own? The realization dawns on me. It must have been the System. That’s the only explanation I can think of.

Yes, Master, it was me. I healed your body.

Ah, it confirmed it, of course. That explains it.

“Even the doctors couldn’t figure it out. There was no trace of Mana. Nothing,” Arthur continues, shaking his head. “It’s like… you were never hurt.”

“I… I don’t know,” I say, feigning confusion. “Maybe you healed me without realizing it? With your light magic?”

It’s a plausible lie. Light magic has healing properties, so using that explanation is safer than revealing the truth about the System. For now, it’s best if Arthur remains unaware; this way, I won’t violate the terms and conditions I agreed to with the System.

Arthur frowns, clearly puzzled. “But… I’ve never been able to heal people before. It’s strange…”

He falls silent, lost in thought. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief, glad my explanation seems to have been enough for now.

“Maybe you did it instinctively,” I suggest, offering a reassuring smile. “You were so focused on saving me; maybe your magic acted on its own.”

Arthur considers this, doubt lingering in his eyes before he slowly nods. “Maybe… I don’t know. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I nod, forcing a smile, but inside, I can’t shake the feeling that this is only the beginning of something far more complex—something I’m unprepared for. The System, the healing, Dominic’s promise—it all feels like pieces of a puzzle that don’t quite fit together.

But for now, I’ll hold onto this moment. I’ll hold onto Arthur and this strange, growing sense of responsibility. Because whether I like it or not, I’m back. And there’s a promise I need to keep.

“By the way, I was about to contact Auntie Celine and Uncle André… but you woke up,” Arthur says, relief clear in his voice, though a shadow of worry lingers.

Celine and André… their names make my chest tighten. Another set of people I’m now responsible for—another part of Dominic’s world I’ve been thrust into. How can I protect them? André is strong, a Stargate Raider, but Celine? She’s vulnerable. Could André protect her if something happens?

The gnawing doubt tells me that no one is truly safe here. Not in a world like Sylvestria. Not even with someone like André around. How can I protect people like them while grappling with who I am?

They’re not my parents. They’re Dominic’s. And yet…

A flood of memories surges up—Celine’s warm smile, André’s quiet strength. They treat me with kindness, like family, even without knowing who I truly am. That kindness touches something deep inside me, a place I didn’t know existed. It’s the same feeling Arthur evokes when he looks at me like I’m his world.

Maybe that’s why I feel so torn. Dominic’s promise felt like a shackle at first, but now… it’s more. I want to protect them not because I am told to but because they’ve shown me a glimpse of belonging.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this…” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of that thought bears down on me, threatening to crush me.

Arthur’s gaze sharpens, and I see concern flicker in his eyes. He doesn’t fully understand what’s happening inside me—he probably thinks I’m just recovering from the physical pain. But the truth is, there’s so much more weighing me down.

I let out a shaky sigh, feeling the pressure of Dominic’s promise tighten around me. But now, it’s not just his demand. It’s my own will intertwined with it. They deserve it, not because I must, but because I want to.

“Doms…” Arthur’s voice draws me back from my spiraling thoughts.

I glance at him, seeing the sadness clouding his expression. There’s a weight in his gaze, one I didn’t expect to see from him.

“… I’m sorry for not being able to protect you,” he says quietly.

His words catch me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless. How could he possibly blame himself for what happened? I’m the one who led us into that temple, driven by my obsession to retrieve the Scepter of Binding.

“Arthur…” I start, shaking my head. “I should be the one apologizing. I dragged you into this. I was so focused on the Scepter that I ignored the risks.”

The gravity of what I’ve done sinks in. My single-minded pursuit nearly got us killed. I was so consumed by wanting to get stronger, obtain the Scepter, and change my fate that I neglected the dangers before us.

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Arthur meets my gaze with a steady look. “You couldn’t have known it would turn out this way. We’re in this together. I chose to go with you, remember?” His words are simple, but they carry the weight of shared experience. In his eyes, this isn’t just my burden.

Silence settles between us, heavy but warm. Arthur doesn’t need to say much—his presence speaks volumes. He’s always been there, and that realization brings a strange comfort.

But then, a new thought slices through the moment. The Scepter. My heart races. Where is it? Where’s my bag? Losing it now would be disastrous, especially after everything we’ve gone through.

I sit up, panic rising. “Where’s my bag?” My voice comes out sharper than I intended.

Arthur notices my panic and quickly reassures me. “Don’t worry. I hid it.”

He kneels beside the bed, pulling the bag from underneath. Holding it up, he shows it’s safe.

“Your bag is right here. Everything’s in it,” he says, placing it beside me.

Relief washes over me, the tension seeping away. The thought of losing the Scepter had been terrifying, but Arthur had always been one step ahead.

“Thanks, Arthur,” I say, my voice steadier.

But new questions swirl in my mind: How did Arthur manage to hide my bag? How did he avoid arousing suspicion while carrying me out of the temple, bleeding and unconscious? How did he convince people to help, and—most importantly—how did he manage to remove the stone spear lodged in my chest?

“Arthur,” I begin, my voice steady yet edged with curiosity, “how did you hide my bag? And how did you leave the temple without anyone noticing you were carrying me? Also, how on Earth did you pull the stone spear from my chest?”

Arthur’s eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the barrage of questions. He scratches the back of his head, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful, even a bit sheepish.

“Ah... well, Doms, it wasn’t easy,” Arthur admits, still fidgeting. “After I defeated the golem, a secret stairway appeared, leading us out the back of the temple. No tourists were around, so I didn’t have to worry about people asking questions.”

“A secret stairway?” I furrow my brow. That part wasn’t in the web novel. Then again, nothing about our entire experience in the temple has followed the novel’s script.

“And the bag?” I press, still perplexed. “How did you hide it without worsening things when you pulled the spear out?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably, glancing at the floor as if reluctant to meet my eyes. “With the spear... I didn’t pull it out.”

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. “You... didn’t?” I echo, the revelation sending a chill down my spine. If Arthur hadn’t removed it, then how is it gone? Did the System intervene again?

Yes, Master, I also did it.

Ah, that explains it. Of course. The System had acted on its own again, taking control when I was too weak to do anything. But how much more does it do without my knowledge?

Arthur clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. “I don’t know how it happened,” he continues, his voice quieter now. “One minute it was there, and the next it was... gone. And when I checked your chest, the wound was already healed. There was no blood left, no injury—just... nothing.”

He glances at me, concern flickering in his eyes. His expression is confused and relieved, as if he was grappling with something beyond his understanding. Despite everything, he manages a small, reassuring smile.

“Whatever happened, Doms, I’m glad you’re okay.”

His sincerity pulls me back from the storm of questions swirling in my head. Arthur had done everything he could. Despite the bizarre circumstances, he had somehow gotten me out alive.

“What about the bag?” I ask, needing to know how he managed to safeguard it while dealing with the chaos of my injury.

Arthur hesitates for a moment, then sighs. “When I found the secret stairway, I realized we couldn’t carry everything without raising suspicion. So, I hid the bag under some rubble near the temple entrance. Once I got you out and the others were distracted or walking away, I returned to retrieve it.”

I imagine Arthur, the tension of the situation weighing on him, desperately trying to ensure we didn’t lose the precious contents of that bag. It must have been nerve-wracking to leave it behind, even for a moment. But he thought it through and acted swiftly, prioritizing our safety while safeguarding what matters.

My heart swells with gratitude. Despite his fears, Arthur had gone to great lengths to protect me and what we had fought for.

“Thank you, Arthur,” I say sincerely, my voice filled with the depth of my feelings. “I’m glad you were there.”

He looks at me with relief and pride in his eyes. “I’d do it all again, Doms. You’re my best friend. I’m not going to leave you behind.”

His words stir something in me, a sense of loyalty and friendship that I hadn’t known I needed. Despite the unease that still gnaws at me from everything that has transpired, Arthur’s presence reminds me that I’m not alone in this world. I have people who care about me, even if I still struggle with the responsibilities Dominic placed upon me.

We fall into a silence that feels less heavy than before. Arthur’s sincerity and the lengths he went to are enough to calm the storm within me, if only for a moment.

I glance at the bag beside me, my mind racing with possibilities. If the authorities ever find out we took something from that temple, it could unravel everything. But for now, we’ve managed to stay under the radar. The Scepter is safe, and our belongings are secure.

“By the way, Doms, check out the sword.” Arthur ducks under the bed, pulling out the sword he acquired from the temple. The blade gleams under the light, its intricate designs catching my eye. “The sword can talk.”

I raise an eyebrow, half-amused, half-incredulous. “The sword can talk? That’s... cool, I guess. But a magical weapon that talks? Really, Arthur?”

“Yeah!” Arthur insists, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

I shake my head, trying to recall if anything like this existed in the web novel. As far as I remember, there were no sentient weapons.

“Are you sure you’re not hallucinating, Arthur?” I tease, a smirk tugging at my lips.

Arthur looks indignant, clutching the sword firmly. “Of course, it can! Just wait, I’ll prove it to you!” He stares at the sword with intense focus. “Talk to me, O great light sword... or something.”

We wait.

And wait.

The room remains silent.

“Yeah... sure, Arthur. It’s official. You’re hallucinating.” I chuckle, leaning back in the bed, savoring this brief break from all the tension.

“N-No, I’m not!” Arthur protests, his face turning red with frustration. “The sword’s why I unleashed that giant light beam!”

A giant light beam? I pause, replaying the events before I got stabbed.

Ah, that light. I remember now—the beam that lit up the entire chamber.

“You mean the beam before I got stabbed…” I say, my voice quieter as the memory surfaces. “That was real?”

Arthur nods fervently. “Yeah! The sword helped me channel it. I swear it was talking to me—telling me how much Mana to pour into it and everything. It wasn’t just me, Doms.”

I glance at the sword, a strange mix of skepticism and intrigue bubbling inside me. A talking sword isn’t something I can easily dismiss, especially in a world like Sylvestria. Magic manifests in unexpected ways, after all. But still, doubt lingers.

“So, the sword... tells you what to do?” I ask, trying to fit this new piece into the puzzle.

“Exactly!” Arthur says, relief washing over his face as he sees me starting to take him seriously. “It wasn’t just me powering through. This sword—there’s something about it.”

I eye the sword again, its unassuming surface betraying no sign of the power Arthur describes. If he’s telling the truth, this could change a lot. A weapon like this could be invaluable in combat—and maybe even as a guide.

But why don’t I know about this from the web novel? This weapon, this talking sword, never existed in the version of Sylvestria I read.

Something’s different. Something’s changed.

“All right, Arthur,” I finally say, my voice firm. “Let’s test it. If this sword can talk, let’s see what it has to say.”

Arthur grins, holding the sword before him, eager to prove himself right. “You hear him, sword. Now’s your chance to show off.”

Still, there’s no response. The silence lingers in the air, and Arthur’s confidence wavers.

“Come on...” Arthur mutters, his voice tinged with frustration. He taps the blade lightly as if trying to coax it into speaking. “I swear it was talking to me earlier.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Maybe it’s shy,” I tease, but deep down, I’m curious. If what Arthur’s saying is true, this sword could be more important than I initially thought.

Arthur narrows his eyes at the sword, determined to prove me wrong. “It’s not shy! I’ll make it talk again. Just wait.”

We both stare at the sword, waiting for anything to happen.

Nothing.

“Arthur...” I begin, half-sympathetic, half-mocking. “I think your sword’s on mute.”

Arthur groans, clearly exasperated. “I’m telling you, Doms, it speaks to me! It told me how to channel the Mana for that light beam! I’m not making this up.”

I glance at the sword again, still intrigued despite the lack of evidence. “All right, all right. I believe you,” I say, though a hint of doubt lingers. “Maybe it’ll talk again when it’s ready.”

Arthur sighs, reluctantly sheathing the sword back into the bag. “I’ll get it to talk. You’ll see.”

I smile at his determination, even if part of me remains skeptical. Nothing in Sylvestria seems to follow the rules of the web novel anymore. Everything’s different now—from the people I know to the events unfolding around us. Maybe this sword is just another piece of the puzzle I haven’t figured out yet.

Arthur settles into the chair next to me, his gaze drifting back to the sword occasionally as if willing it to speak. I can’t help but wonder—if the sword can talk, what else in this world is waiting to be revealed?

–Creak!–

The door swings open again, and a nurse steps into the room. Her expression is calm and professional, but a warmth in her eyes softens the sterile atmosphere.

“Bonsoir, Monsieur Arthur and Dominic. How are your conditions?” she asks gently, her tone carrying a certain efficiency that reminds us we’re still in a hospital.

Arthur glances at me, a flicker of unease crossing his face before he responds. “We’re doing good…”

“I’m fine,” I add, though the weight of everything still clings to me, a constant reminder of the ordeal we’ve just been through.

The nurse nods in acknowledgment. “I see. You both will be dismissed at 5:30. Please take care and rest well.”

Arthur offers a polite nod. “Thank you.”

With a warm smile, she quietly exits the room, leaving us enveloped in the sterile silence of the hospital. The beeping machines and faint smell of disinfectant remind us of where we are and what we’ve just endured.

Arthur breaks the silence after a few moments, his tone lighter this time. “By the way, Doms, how about we move our duel to this Friday?”

I blink, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. My mind reels back to the promise I made, the weight of it hanging over me like a dark cloud. The duel is meant to be a test of strength, a measure of where we both stand. But now, the idea of postponing it feels like a blessing.

“Uh… sure,” I agree, a strange sense of relief washing over me. Friday is far enough away to push aside my worries, at least for now.

Arthur grins, and the heaviness between us lifts for a fleeting moment. It’s almost like we’re just two friends making casual plans again. Yet, deep down, I know there’s more to come—more I’ll have to face. Still, the thought of taking a break, even for a few days, feels like a small victory.

Arthur leans back in his chair, seeming more at ease. “Great. It’ll give us both some time to prepare.”

“Yeah,” I reply, trying to match his enthusiasm. I want to feel the same lightness he does, but part of me can’t let go of the looming challenges. The duel isn’t just a simple sparring match—it’s another step in a series of trials that keep piling up.

But for now, I push those thoughts aside. Arthur’s grin is infectious, and for this brief moment, we can pretend things are normal, even if they’re not. I let out a small sigh, letting myself enjoy this semblance of peace.

We fall into a comfortable silence, the room’s tension easing just a bit. For now, it’s enough. Friday feels distant, and that distance gives me a chance to breathe.

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As we leave the hospital, the cool evening air greets us. The streets of Émeraude-sur-Mer are bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. The soft glow reflects off the cobblestones, creating a serene, almost nostalgic atmosphere as Arthur and I approach Gare d’Émeraude.

The weight of the day still clings to me. With the Scepter of Binding now in my possession, I know there's only one more artifact left to retrieve—the Chalice of Merging in the Temple du Calice de Convergence, located in the treacherous Misty Peaks region of Verdant Haven. But the traps in that temple are known to be far deadlier than anything we faced at the Temple du Sceptre Lié. It's a risk I'm not ready to take yet.

I need to train—grow stronger—before even considering going after it.

"After everything that's happened... I still want to be stronger," I murmur.

That drive, the desire to protect those around me, to ensure their safety, has only grown since the events in the temple. But there's also a deeper conflict within me—a tension between wanting to stay safe and the promise Dominic forced on me. The more I think about it, the heavier it feels. But now, I have to face it.

"Doms..." Arthur's voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.

"Yeah?" I glance at him, expecting more discussion about the challenges ahead.

"Look, a toy store."

I follow his gaze to a quaint little toy shop across the street, its windows filled with vibrant displays of plush animals, games, and action figures. For a second, I'm caught off guard. After all we've been through, why point out a toy store?

"What about the toy store?" I ask, confused by the sudden shift in focus.

"Well... maybe Clark wants a toy," Arthur suggests, his voice soft.

Clark...

The name hits me hard, stirring something deep inside. In all the chaos, I almost forgot. The younger version of me—the innocent, childlike part of myself that still exists somewhere in this world.

Arthur's words bring me back to a realization I had buried: Clark is still part of this journey. Even though I live in Dominic's body, I can't forget that. That connection to Clark, to my old life, is something I can't push aside.

"Yeah... you're right," I nod slowly, my voice tinged with guilt. "Let's check it out."

We enter the toy store, and a soft bell rings above us as we step inside. The place is cozy, filled with shelves packed with toys of all kinds—stuffed animals, puzzles, games, things that stir a sense of nostalgia.

It feels like stepping back into childhood, where things were simpler, and the biggest concern was choosing the right toy.

As I wander through the aisles, something catches my eye—a small plush golden retriever. Its fluffy fur and big, kind eyes remind me of comfort, something a child might cling to during tough times.

For some reason, it feels right. Clark would have loved something like this. Even though I've grown, that part of me—the child I used to be—deserves this reminder of comfort and joy.

"I'll buy this one," I say, picking up the plush dog.

Arthur nods approvingly. "Good choice, Doms."

I bring the plush to the counter, where the cashier greets me warmly.

"That's a lovely toy you've picked out," the cashier says. "Dogs represent loyalty, comfort, and friendship. Kids always love something like that."

I pause, surprised by her insight. "Yeah... I guess that's what I'm going for."

The transaction is quick. The plush toy is wrapped in bright paper, and we step back out into the evening streets, the sun sinking lower on the horizon.

Arthur and I walk in comfortable silence, the plushie safely tucked in its bag. As we head toward the station, I can't help but smile, imagining Clark's joy when he sees it.

"I think he'll love it," I say softly, the day's weight lightening just a little.

Arthur looks at me, and there's a warmth in his eyes. "He will, Doms. He will."

As we continue down the street, the golden light of the setting sun casts everything in a warm glow. I realize something: even amid all the chaos and uncertainty, there are still moments like this—small moments of happiness that remind me of what's truly important.

For the first time in a while, I feel like I'm not only carrying the weight of Dominic's promise but also discovering my own reasons to keep moving forward.