The first thing Arthur tasted was dirt. The second was the warm, sharp taste of his own blood.He jolted awake with a loud gasp, his vision swimming in a sea of blurry colors. Before his eyes could focus, a heavy, iron-plated boot slammed directly into his ribs. The crack of bone echoed in his ears. Arthur curled into a tight ball, the breath forced completely out of his weak lungs. He tried to scream, but only a wet cough escaped his lips. His head pounded like a war drum. Inside his mind, a violent storm was raging. Two completely different lives were smashing into each other. One second, he remembered looking at complex physics equations on a glowing computer screen in a clean, brightly lit laboratory. He remembered the feeling of a white coat, the smell of coffee, and a life of modern science. The next second, he remembered cold nights, the gnawing pain of an empty stomach, and boiling the bark of dead trees just to survive the winter. “I am a materials engineer,” his mind scre

The Commander did not hesitate. The moment the order left his lips, he lunged. He moved with a terrifying, unnatural speed, empowered by the magic woven into his armor. The glowing blue runes on his heavy broadsword flared brightly. The blade cut through the cold air, leaving a trail of shimmering heat behind it. He aimed straight for Arthur’s neck, intending to take the boy's head in a single, brutal swing.Arthur’s eyes went wide. The scientist in him calculated the speed, the angle, and the devastating kinetic force of the heavy steel. “Too fast. Too heavy to block.”He didn't try to stop the sword. He moved his body instead. Arthur threw his weight backward, dropping his center of gravity. The glowing blade passed mere inches from his face. The intense, magical heat radiating from the steel instantly singed the tips of his dark hair. The smell of burnt hair filled his nose. The Commander’s attack was powerful, but it had a massive flaw: momentum. Because the Commander swung wi

The pain was total and absolute. It felt as if liquid ice had been injected directly into Arthur’s bloodstream, freezing his veins and tearing his muscles apart from the inside out. The Ley-crystal pulsed wildly, glowing brighter with every passing second. The dark, necrotic black lines crept up Arthur's arms, crawling past his shoulders and creeping up his neck. He could feel his heart stuttering, struggling to pump against the crushing pressure of the raw, chaotic energy invading his body. "Arthur! No! Let go!" Clara screamed, coughing violently as she tried to drag herself across the dirt floor. Eliana was crying loudly, her small hands banging uselessly against the invisible wall of energy that pushed her away from her brother. Arthur’s mouth was open in a silent scream. His mind was shutting down. The original Arthur’s memories were panicking, screaming at him that this was the curse of the earth, that he was dying. But deep in the back of his mind, the cold, rational voice o

Time seemed to stop completely. To Clara and Eliana, the Grave-Hound was a blur of rotting flesh, glowing green eyes, and razor-sharp iron teeth. It was a monster from the darkest nightmares, descending upon them with impossible speed.But to Arthur, everything moved in slow motion. The moment the beast crashed through the wooden doors, Arthur’s mind went to work. His newly formed Aetheric Core—the spinning ball of pure white energy in his chest—pumped highly condensed mana into his bloodstream. His brain processed the threat faster than any normal human could. He saw the angle of the beast’s descent. He calculated its weight, its speed, and its exact trajectory. Arthur did not panic. He let go of the broken wooden ladder and dropped down to the dirt floor, landing perfectly between his sister and the monster. He raised the rusted, modified pitchfork. He wrapped both of his hands tightly around the wooden handle, placing his fingers directly over the glowing purple geometric lines

"A fortress? Are you insane?" The desperate voice cut through the stunned silence of the crowd. Jason Lee pushed his way to the front of the villagers, his face red with fear and anger. He pointed a shaking finger directly at Arthur. "We are farmers! We have sick women and starving children! The Commander has twenty heavily armored knights out there!" Jason yelled, turning to the crowd. "Listen to me! The boy has lost his mind. He killed a royal guard. That is treason! If we tie him up and drag him to the Commander right now, they might show us mercy. They might just take him and let the rest of us live!"A few of the older villagers shifted uncomfortably, murmuring in agreement. The fear of the nobles was deeply drilled into their minds. Fighting back was impossible. Surrender was the only way peasants survived.Arthur didn’t argue. He didn’t yell or defend himself. He simply walked back over to the headless, rotting corpse of the Alpha Hound. With his foot, he kicked the heavy iro