[Gradion city–Park]
Arther sat on a bench, his gaze fixed on the fountain, lost in a sea of numbness and hopelessness.
He felt as though his existence lacked meaning or purpose, burdened by the weight of a terrible, unforgivable act, unsure of how to confront the repercussions.
Suddenly, a cheerful voice interrupted his reverie. "Are you okay, Grandpa?"
Startled, Arthur looked up to find a little boy with bright eyes and a radiant smile standing beside him.
The child wore a red cap adorned with a phoenix emblem, adding a touch of warmth to the somber atmosphere.
"Aren't you Mark, the young master of Phoenix?" Arther asked, recognizing the boy.
He had seen him at clan meetings before, always brimming with curiosity and friendliness.
"Yes, that's me, the little master of Phoenix," Mark replied proudly. "And who are you?"
"I'm Arther," Arther answered softly, feeling a pang of guilt as he recalled his past actions towards the boy.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Mark persisted, noting Arther's sad expression.
Arther hesitated for a moment before responding, "Yes, I'm fine." It was a lie, but he managed to muster a weak smile, though it failed to reach his eyes.
"Well, that's good," Mark said sincerely, his concern evident. "You seem really down. I thought something bad happened to you. I'm glad you're okay."
Despite not knowing Arther well, Mark felt a fondness for him. He seemed like a kind old man.
"Thank you for your kindness," Arther replied, genuinely touched by the boy's gesture.
He wished he could possess even a fraction of Mark's innocence and purity.
"You're welcome. Anyway, here, have this chocolate. It's my birthday today," Mark said, offering Arther a wrapped candy.
He hoped the sweet treat would lift Arther's spirits. He loved chocolate and wanted to share it with his new friend.
Taking the chocolate, Arther felt a rush of emotion overwhelm him.
He couldn't believe the generosity and sweetness of the boy, especially after what he had done to him.
Arther had acted out of greed, driven by the desire for power within his guild.
But now, in this moment, he realized the depth of his folly and wrongdoing.
He had inflicted harm upon innocent souls, individuals like Mark, who deserved nothing but happiness.
Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Arther sank to his knees and enveloped Mark in a tight embrace.
He could feel the boy's warmth, hear his steady heartbeat, and sense the preciousness of his life.
Tears streamed down Arther's face, dampening the boy's cap.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Arther whispered, his voice choked with remorse.
He repeated the words like a mantra, desperate to convey the depth of his regret and longing for redemption.
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But he knew deep down that it was too late to undo the damage he had caused.
"It's okay, Grandpa," Mark responded, bewildered and startled by Arther's sudden display of emotion.
He couldn't comprehend why Arther was crying or apologizing, but he sensed his sadness and felt a strong urge to offer comfort.
Wrapping his arms around Arther's neck, Mark gently patted his back and reassured him, "It's okay. Don't cry. I'm here."
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[Phoenix Headquarters]
"So, Blood Hound massacred every member of the Mage Tower?" Norman's voice trembled with shock and anger.
"Yes, it appears so. But I can't fathom why they would commit such a heinous act," Hans confirmed, his expression grim as he rubbed his temples, feeling the onset of a headache from the stress of the situation.
"The motive doesn't matter at this point. What matters is that we have another enemy to contend with," Ethan interjected, his tone cold and resolute, his words laced with ruthless determination.
"You're absolutely right," Hans concurred, nodding in agreement.
"For now, let's focus on our strategy for assaulting the demon guild," Ethan suggested, spreading out a map of the city on the table.
With precision, he indicated the locations of the demon guild's hideouts and bases, highlighting potential vulnerabilities and avenues of attack.
As they began to formulate their plan, their concentration was abruptly shattered by a sudden knocking on the door.
"Come in," Norman begrudgingly invited, annoyance evident in his tone.
A member of the Phoenix guild cautiously entered, his nervous demeanor immediately apparent.
His pallid complexion and clammy palms betrayed his unease.
"What's the matter?" Norman inquired, his instincts alerting him to the gravity of the situation.
An undercurrent of anxiety surged through his chest, heightening his concern.
The guild member leaned in close and whispered urgently into Norman's ear.
Norman's complexion drained of color as he absorbed the message, his blood turning to ice and his heart plummeting in his chest.
"What's wrong, Father?" Ethan inquired, his curiosity tinged with growing concern.
He couldn't ignore the distress etched on his father's face, and a sense of unease gripped him.
"Arther... he's here to see you," Norman managed to utter, his voice barely above a whisper, his words heavy with dread.
Ethan's gaze hardened into cold, dark pools as the name registered in his mind.
"What's his purpose?" Ethan's voice rumbled low and menacing.
"I'm not sure. He claimed that he has something important for you to hear. He's waiting outside," the guild member stammered, trembling under Ethan's intense scrutiny.
He couldn't help but fear Ethan's reaction to the news.
Ethan rose from his seat and strode purposefully toward the door.
He exchanged a glance with his father and his friend, receiving both silent support and cautious warning.
They were all too aware of Ethan's sentiments toward Arther, and the potential danger this encounter posed.
"Take care, son," Norman cautioned, his tone heavy with concern.
"Don't act impulsively, Ethan," Emily advised, her voice laden with a mix of worry and caution.
Ethan nodded curtly and opened the door, stepping outside to confront Arther.
His gaze fell upon the man standing before him, noting the serious expression etched upon his face.
Despite the passing years, Arther still retained his charm and a semblance of his former attractiveness, though Ethan couldn't deny the weariness that now clouded his features.
"Hello, Ethan. This is our first meeting, isn't it?" Arther spoke, breaking the silence with a calm demeanor.
Ethan's icy glare bore into Arther, a torrent of anger and loathing surging through his veins.
He felt an overwhelming urge to exact vengeance, to make Arther suffer for his transgressions.
"What do you want?" Ethan growled, his voice dripping with menace as he tightened his fists, prepared for confrontation.
Arther swallowed hard, the fear in Ethan's eyes piercing through him like a knife.
He felt the weight of his own guilt and apprehension bearing down upon him.
"I understand that it may be too late, but I still want to apologize for my actions," Arther confessed, his voice strained and trembling with nerves.
He attempted to convey sincerity, though he knew his words rang hollow in the face of his past actions.
"Anything else?" Ethan's voice remained cold and dismissive.
He had little interest in Arther's apology or explanations.
To him, Arther's words held no weight.
A lump formed in Arther's throat as he struggled to find the right words.
He longed to express himself further, to offer some semblance of explanation or justification, but he found himself at a loss.
"Even if you don't forgive me, it's okay. Just please stop now. There's already been too much blood spilled," Arther pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation and urgency.
"I won't stop, and forgiveness is a luxury you don't deserve. You should've considered the consequences before aligning yourself with the demon guild," Ethan declared, his voice laced with harshness and ruthlessness.
Arther winced as Ethan's words pierced through him like daggers.
The mention of Ethan's brother, Mark, only deepened the ache in his chest.
"I anticipated as much, but thank you for your answer," Arther replied, his tone bitter and resigned.
He accepted the harsh reality that Ethan would never forgive him, just as he knew he would never forgive himself.
"Is there anything else?" Ethan's voice dripped with impatience and disinterest.
Arther sighed heavily, meeting Ethan's gaze with a mixture of sadness and regret.
He understood the depth of Ethan's animosity towards him, and he couldn't fault him for it.
Arther had made a grave mistake by aligning himself with the demon guild, and now he grappled with the weight of his remorse.
"I need to warn you," Arther began, his tone serious and solemn. "The demon guild, along with Blood Hound, have successfully conquered the second Labyrinth. They await you in the third. You need to be prepared."
He hoped his warning would reach Ethan, offering a chance at redemption for his past actions.
"Why are you telling this to me?" Ethan's eyes narrowed suspiciously, contemplating Arther's motives.
Was there an ulterior motive behind his disclosure? Was Arther attempting to lure him into a trap, or perhaps seeking sympathy?
Arther shook his head, his expression one of resignation. He had no hidden agenda, no grand scheme. He had nothing left to lose.
"I'm sharing this with you because I seek your forgiveness," Arther confessed, his voice sincere and earnest.
He yearned to atone for his sins, to reconcile with Ethan, to depart this world with a clear conscience.
Arther paused, his gaze pleading as he looked at Ethan, silently begging for understanding and forgiveness.
He desperately hoped that Ethan would heed his warning, that he would spare at least his guild from the impending danger.
Above all, Arther wished for Ethan to find happiness and peace in the midst of their turbulent world.
"It's too late," Ethan stated bluntly, his voice devoid of warmth or mercy.
"I know," Arther replied softly, resignation heavy in his tone.
With a heavy heart, he turned away from Ethan and began to walk out of the Phoenix guild.
Silently, Arther exited the guild, his footsteps echoing with the weight of his remorse and regret.