Chương 45: An Offer

That wasn't the last loop he spent duelling with Lenore, not by a long shot. The physician-warrior was simply too good of a sparring partner to pass up. Alcyr could not really pinpoint what it was about her, but every clash or exchange against her halberd inexplicably added a minute improvement to his skill. Whether it be his stance, form, or combat intuition, all of it was slowly polished by her guidance, easing him into fully understanding the complexity that was the Tempestuous Sword Dance.

There was undeniably something helping him refine his skill whenever they sparred, and his suspicions were confirmed when barely ten loops later, he got a notification. [Tempestuous Sword Dance has improved to 62] It had previously taken him at least a few dozen loops just to get one level in Sword Discipline. Yet now, despite the skill having mutated to a higher rarity, it had somehow already levelled up in less than a third of the usual time it took.

He did not know what ability Lenore was using, but it was augmenting the experience he gained when training with her by a massive degree. Something like a skill would not achieve this measure of impact. That meant she had a Mystery — an ally experience-boosting Mystery. And one that augments it by an absurd degree too, it seems. Why isn't she making her living in the royal castle? It was difficult to understate just how valuable a boon like hers would be.

Nobles would hound her door day and night just for a chance to get her service for a year. The Royal family would likely seek her out themselves, undoubtedly paying ludicrous sums of gold to keep her in their retinue. And this is not considering what else she brings to the table, like her advanced alchemy skills, her combat capabilities, or her official licence as an academy-sanctioned physician. With those abilities, she probably qualified to serve as a Royal retainer.

Yet again, he found himself asking just why she would settle for being a lowly captain in a Regular Company. It was baffling. The more I learn of her, the more questions I have. He wondered if this was how he was for her, as well. His curiosity grew even greater on the two hundred and seventeenth loop. They had decided to test his ability to use his Artes along with the Tempestuous Sword Dance. Mid-battle, when Alcyr used both Cleave and Power Strike to augment his blade at the same time, Lenore suddenly froze.

"Wait. Stop," she called out.

"What was that?" Alcyr paused.

"What's wrong?"

"Your attack just now. That looked… strange. What kind of Arte was that? I sensed Cleave, but also… Power Strike?" He supposed those two Artes were common enough that someone of her experience would recognise them.

"Astute. You're correct; it was Cleave and Power Strike. I combined them together." She looked at him as if he grew a second head.

"You… combined them? Alcyr, you can't just combine Artes."

"Of course you can." He frowned.

"I've been doing it ever since the duel with Warlord Bjorn. What are you talking about?" Lenore was speechless. After realising he was serious, her expression changed.

"Do it again. Let me see." Normally, he would refuse. He was not keen on sharing his abilities, even during a loop. But Lenore was offering guidance. She could not help him effectively if he kept hiding everything. Besides, it felt like a relatively harmless secret to divulge. So he obliged, using different combinations of Artes. After seeing him swing his silverite sword a few more times with multiple Artes active on the blade, Lenore's eyes gleamed with vivacious curiosity.

"Fascinating… Can you only do this because you are wielding the silverite sword? The enchanted metal helps one channel Artes better, but I've never seen this before, even with more spirit-conductive alloys…"

"I can do it with any weapon. The silverite just makes it easier," Alcyr said, now curious himself.

"Can you really not do it?"

"Alcyr, when have you ever seen anyone use two Artes at once?" He answered easily.

"The warlord, Bjorn. I recall seeing him use a weapon Arte and his Iron Body Arte together before."

"That's different. He was using two separate Arte on two different parts of his body. No one can just meld two overlapping Artes like you're doing now. The conflicting spiritual energies should have cancelled each other out. Not to mention the sheer mental focus required would prevent you from even attempting it in the first place. Who else have you seen do this?" Alcyr hesitated. After seeing no harm in answering, he said:"My mentor. I've watched her do it several times before.

It's why I didn't think anything of it when I first combined two Artes together."

"And you faced no difficulty?"

"None, save for the stamina drain. It's a bit more difficult if I try to channel Artes on my fists or fingers instead, but—""Wait, your fingers?" Without waiting for her to ask, he casually channelled Cleave into his bare hands and idly did a chop through the air. The slight wind trails behind his enhanced movement confirmed the Arte's activation.

"It's more difficult, but I can do it with other parts of my body, too. I once managed to Cleave someone through armour with an elbow slash. Another time, I executed a Perfect Parry with just my forearm. Chaining two or more Artes to my bare skin seems impossible, though. Unlike the silverite sword, which I managed to chain up to four different Artes, and…" He trailed off. The glare Lenore was giving him suddenly felt dangerous.

"Lenore?" he cautiously asked.

"We are doing tests," she demanded.

"Starting right now."

In the end, they spent the entire afternoon experimenting with his capacity to meld Artes together and how he could use them even without a weapon.

"Artes come in various categories," Lenore began.

"Weapon Artes, Body Artes, Movement Artes… Technically, a person could activate multiple Artes at once, but they need to be in separate categories. Discounting wild tales, there aren't any official records of someone effectively overlapping two Artes of the same type before, let alone merge them so seamlessly they somehow blend together into a single attack." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"But you have heard of it before?"

"Only in obscure fables and old legends. Nothing of true substance. Scholars and warriors have been trying it for years, centuries, with no luck. Seeing you so casually do it is… It goes against a lot of what I understand on the topic. It should be impossible." Alcyr hummed.

"And I suppose the same goes for when I use Artes on my bare skin?"

"Yes. If you had a gauntlet on and used the likes of 'Power Strike' to augment your punches, there could at least be an argument made that the gauntlets were the weapon used for that particular Weapon Arte. But you did so with empty fists. Weapon Artes are supposed to require a weapon."

"But unarmed Artes like Palm Strike exist. Why would me using Cleave with a hand chop or Power Strike with a punch be so different?" Lenore had an answer ready there as well.

"Unarmed Artes fall under a specific sub-category of Body Artes. Cleave and Power Strike are strictly for weapons only and are reserved for bladed and blunt weapons, respectively. The fact that you do not seem hampered by this restriction either — seeing as you can easily use Power Strike with your sword — is yet another rule you can casually break." Alcyr found her accusatory tone amusing, as if she were personally offended by his nonchalant attitude to the anomaly. He chuckled.

"Forgive me. I didn't even know I was breaking any rules."

"I'll forgive you when we figure out the source of this ridiculous irregularity. You were checking your Status Screen with the oracle earlier today. Are you sure none of your titles or Mysteries could have caused this?"

"I'm… relatively sure." Technically, there was the 'Godless' title. Its description remained shrouded in mystery, so if Alcyr had to pinpoint a cause to his unique ability to channel Artes, he would likely select the title as the culprit. But that would involve telling Lenore about the need for a Tier V System Access to gain insight into the title's description.

The woman looked stressed enough as she was, and if Alcyr was being honest, he doubted the Godless title had anything to do with his peculiar ability to meld Artes. Lenore sighed.

"What an enigma you are… I wonder if this is a hereditary trait, like a mana core. Could your parents or siblings do anything like this? Was your mentor related to you?" The questions placed a damper on his mood, but he answered.

"I'm not sure about the first. I've never seen my parents or siblings use an Arte, or at least not that I've noticed. As for the second… No. I'm pretty sure she and I are not related."

"You're pretty sure?" Alcyr rolled his eyes.

"No more than I'm pretty sure you and I are not related. For what it's worth, my mentor and I look completely different, and she's much, much older than me." Lenore bit her lip, deep in thought.

"If you had children, would they possess the trait?" Her forwardness took him aback. After taking a second to steady his expression, he raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really think I have an answer to that?"

"No. I was just… thinking." She didn't elaborate further. Alcyr didn't dare ask either.

"So what's your conclusion?" he said, changing the topic back to its original point. The physician's eyes were equal parts annoyed and fascinated.

"I don't really know. This is completely new to me, so I'll need more tests to draw a theory. In the meantime, you will have to keep this a secret. There is already enough attention drawn your way with adding yet another impossibility to the list."

"I'm doing my best."

"Your best is terrible. Try harder. Or, even better, find a powerful faction or backer to pledge your alliance to before someone else forces you to join them." He sighed.

"And I suppose you are volunteering yourself as that backer?"

"It doesn't have to be me," she said, surprising him.

"What about this mentor of yours? Where is she?" Alcyr's lips thinned.

"She's… too far for me to reach right now. And even if she wasn't, she's not an option I wish to rely on." If Lenore found his statement strange, she did not comment on it. There was a twinkle of sympathetic understanding in her steely gaze.

"Then what about me?" she asked. Alcyr considered his next words carefully.

"Please don't take offence at what I'm about to say, but you are not nearly strong enough for me to rely on." He was already a Master. Lenore might be considered strong when compared with the 4th Regulars, but how many more Wells would it take before he surpassed her so utterly that she would only be a burden to him? It was partly why he had not bothered to form any lasting connections in the military.

He was already reclusive before, but it became even worse once the loops started, and his skills started growing at an absurd rate. His goal existed somewhere on the distant horizon, far from the domain of those of sane minds and healthy ambition. Any allies he formed would be temporary at best as he outgrew them, moving from Well to Well. He was always going to have to walk his path alone. It was simply the way things were. Lenore was quiet. She seemed to be wrestling with a decision.

"If I—" she began, then cut herself off. For the first time, Alcyr saw that she looked genuinely hesitant, her usual cool demeanour gone. No, more than hesitant. She looked… afraid?

"If I were strong, far stronger than the likes of Grandmaster Faldren or even your mentor, would you rely on me then?" The question was undeniably bizarre. She was only a Master. How could she make such tall claims like that without a hint of shame? Except… Is she really only a Master? This lonesome path he walked was his to tread alone. But… The days spent together with her — waking up to her presence, finding a small comfort in her warmth after each death — had been welcomed.

"There's no one stronger than my mentor," he answered.

"But, if you were indeed far stronger than Faldren, then… maybe. Maybe we could walk on the same path for a time." She looked down.

"Alcyr. Where are you going?" He answered without hesitation, unashamed and unrepentant.

"The Godless Heavens. I'm going to be a Saint." It was not a sane answer — it was the ambition of clueless children, deranged madmen, or utter imbeciles. No respectable soul could ever say such a thing without sarcasm or chagrin. Alcyr had been fully prepared for her disbelief. He had anticipated ridicule, or polite laughter disguising her disgust at his audacity. Instead, he got an answer he never expected.

"When you are ready to leave, to go beyond this world, come find me. Tell me of your dream again. I think… I will walk with you then. I will help you get there." Alcyr was caught off guard.

"What?" Lenore stood. Her gaze seemed lighter now, as if a weight had been lifted.

"I will help you reach the Godless Heavens." Her words — as ridiculous as his had been earlier — were spoken casually, as if she were discussing the weather. Alcyr did not know what to say. But then she continued, her tone forceful:"But you need to tell me. Do you understand? Promise me you will tell me of your dream again after today." He froze.

"What are you—?"

"I think I finally know why I was sent here now." Lenore said, interrupting him as she looked to the skies. Her expression was wistful.

"So it was because of you that I was told to come to this world. Another fool with an impossible dream… How very appropriate for my punishment."

"What are you talking about?" he snapped, his patience lost beneath his growing unease. Does she know? How? She looked at him again.

"Do not forget our promise."

"I promise nothing." Lenore did not say anything else. She simply turned and walked away, leaving him alone, standing in the snow. Her words repeated in his head, forming a question that kept him paralysed. Does she know? His mind whirled with hasty thoughts, plans, and contingencies. He briefly contemplated killing himself, then quickly realised it would probably make no difference. He then thought about killing her and advancing the day.

It was the most rational decision, since it would most decisively remove the possibility of his time loops being threatened. And yet, the mere thought of that was… Why did it disgust him so? He did not know how long he stood there like a fool. Eventually, however, he heard footsteps approaching. Snapping himself out of his pathetic daze, Alcyr looked up, his hands already on his weapon. It proved needless. There was no one around but Ural, who was looking at him pitifully.

"Rejection? I feel your pain, my friend." The shock trooper shook his head.

"Women, am I right? Still, there's no need to stand around so dejectedly! Come, I know a few ladies who're dying to get to know the Butcher of the Red Rime! They will cheer you right up!" Alcyr stared at Ural for three seconds. He sighed, then punched the trooper straight in the face, starting a brawl in the snow to help him get his mind off his thoughts.