Realm Lord
Chapter 166: A Declaration

Chapter 166: A Declaration

Arthur and Aziel looked at her confused, their minds struggling to process the directness of her question. The weight of her intimidating presence still pressed down on them like a physical force, making it difficult to think clearly. Arthur’s throat felt dry as sandpaper, and he could feel his palms growing clammy with nervous sweat.

The question echoed in his mind over and over again: Do you want to leave? It seemed so simple on the surface, yet loaded with implications that made his head spin. Was this some kind of test? Was she genuinely offering them an escape route, or was this her way of weeding out the weak before they even began?

Finally, after what felt like another small eternity of suffocating silence, Arthur managed to find his voice, though it came out smaller and more uncertain than he would have liked.

"E-excuse me?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cara held his gaze for a moment longer, then leaned back and released a deep, weary sigh without breaking eye contact.

"Look, I’ll be frank with you," she began, her voice taking on a more conversational tone while still maintaining its underlying steel. "We need new teammates. But like I said, my criteria for guild mates is... strict. You two, however, were forced on me."

She gestured around the sparse room, emphasizing their limited numbers. "And like I said, these missions are dangerous—possibly the most dangerous out of any happening in District Three. But more than that, they hold absolute importance to our war effort."

Her expression grew even more serious. "I was informed by my higher-ups that you were both capable, but sorry to be rude, I only know you two from our brief stint in the Chosen Academy, and while there..."

Her gaze shifted to focus specifically on Arthur, and he felt as though she were dissecting him with her eyes. Every failure, every moment of weakness seemed to be laid bare under that penetrating stare.

"You were inadequate," she said bluntly, her words hitting Arthur like physical blows. "While I am glad to see you’re alive, it is a little hard to believe. You were the bottom of the class in everything... combat skills, tactical awareness, even basic physical conditioning."

Arthur’s face burned with shame and embarrassment, a flush of heat spreading from his neck up to his ears. Every word was true, and hearing them spoken so matter-of-factly made them cut even deeper. He could feel his confidence crumbling under the weight of his past failures, each criticism like a stone added to an already crushing burden.

The memories came flooding back—all those training sessions where he’d been left behind, all those tests where his scores had been circled in red at the bottom of the class rankings, all those moments when instructors had looked at him with barely concealed disappointment. He remembered the whispered conversations that would stop when he walked by, the pitying looks from his classmates, the way even the students would sigh when they had to work with him.

’She’s right,’ a traitorous voice whispered in the back of his mind. ’You were pathetic. What makes you think anything has changed?’

"And you," Cara continued, turning her attention to Aziel. "You had great combat skills, but—and I mean no offense when I say this—I don’t know if I could trust you as a teammate. Your tendency to go off on your own, to prioritize personal glory over team objectives... in the kind of missions we run, that behavior gets people killed."

Arthur could see Aziel’s jaw tighten, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The criticism clearly stung, particularly because there was truth to it. Arthur had witnessed firsthand his friend’s tendency to charge ahead without considering the consequences, driven by a need to prove himself that often put others at risk. It was the flip side of Aziel’s undeniable skill—his strength came with a recklessness that could be just as dangerous as Arthur’s former weakness.

The irony wasn’t lost on Arthur. Here they were, two sides of the same coin—one too weak, the other too reckless. Both fundamentally flawed in ways that could get people killed in the field. The realization sat heavy in his stomach like a lead weight.

Cara took a deep breath, preparing to deliver what felt like a final verdict. "And with that in mind, it is my opinion that you two will most likely die and possibly even get us killed if brought on missions. While I cannot officially fire you or anything, I can allow you guys to quit—being volunteers and all."

She looked between them, her gaze moving from Arthur’s pale face to Aziel’s increasingly tense posture.

"So I will ask you one more time," she said with finality. "Do you want to quit?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Arthur could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears, could feel the sweat trickling down his back despite the coolness of the room. This was the moment that would define everything—not just their immediate future, but who they truly were as people. Would they accept defeat before even trying? Would they slink away with their tails between their legs, proving every doubt and criticism right?

The weight of the decision pressed down on him like a mountain. Part of him—the old Arthur, the weak Arthur—wanted to take the escape route she was offering. It would be so easy to walk away, to find some safe assignment somewhere else, to avoid the crushing responsibility and almost certain death that awaited them here.

But another part of him, a part that had been growing stronger with each trial he’d faced, rebelled against the very idea.

He watched as emotions played across Aziel’s face like storm clouds. First shock, then hurt, then growing anger, and finally determination. When his friend finally spoke, his voice was tight with barely controlled emotion.

"I can work fine in teams, thank you very much," Aziel said, his words clipped and precise. "And moreover, if this is the squad that will be getting the best action..." He paused, and suddenly a grin spread across his face—sharp and almost predatory. "I ain’t leaving."

Cara nodded stoically, showing no surprise at his decision. "I understand," she said simply, then turned her attention to Arthur. "And you, Arthur?"

Arthur felt the weight of every eye in the room settle on him. He was staring at the floor beneath his feet, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Frustration warred with determination, shame battled with defiance. Everything Cara had said about him was true—he had been inadequate, he had been at the bottom of every class, he had been weak.

But that was then. That was the old Arthur, the one who had given up before even trying, who had accepted failure as his natural state. The Arthur who stood here now had been forged in the fires of the realms, tempered by experiences that had pushed him far beyond what he thought possible. He had faced creatures that would have sent his academy self running in terror. He had made decisions that meant the difference between life and death, not just for himself but for others who had depended on him.

Every scar on his mind told a story of growth, of refusing to give up when everything seemed hopeless. Every callus on his hands spoke of hours spent training, pushing himself beyond his limits. Every nightmare that still haunted his sleep was proof that he had survived things that should have killed him.

He wasn’t the same person who had cowered in the back of academy classes. He couldn’t be—not after everything he’d been through.

When his head suddenly snapped up, there was something different in his eyes—something that hadn’t been there before. It was a look of pure, gritted determination that seemed to burn with its own inner fire.

"If Aziel is staying, so am I," he declared, his voice stronger and more confident than it had been all day. "But before we move further, I think there is something we have to do."

He paused, drawing in a deep breath as he prepared to voice the crazy idea that had suddenly crystallized in his mind.

"Spar me."

The words dropped into the quiet room like a hammer striking an anvil, the sound seeming to reverberate off the walls and echo in the sudden, stunned silence that followed. The effect was immediate and dramatic, as if Arthur had just declared his intention to challenge a god to single combat.

For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody breathed. The very air in the room seemed to freeze, charged with the electricity of the unexpected. Arthur himself could hardly believe the words had come out of his mouth, but now that they had, he felt no desire to take them back. If anything, he felt a strange sense of rightness about it, as if this confrontation had been inevitable from the moment they’d walked into this room.

Myah’s eyes practically popped out of her head as she launched herself out of her seat, her previous sullen silence forgotten in her shock and alarm.

"What the hell are you saying?!" she exclaimed, her voice rising to nearly a shriek. "She can’t spar someone like y—"

"I accept," Cara interrupted smoothly, cutting through Myah’s tantrum with precision.

The simple statement sent another shockwave through the room. Cara’s expression had shifted, taking on a look of serious interest. There was even what might have been the ghost of a grin playing at the corners of her mouth, as if Arthur had finally done something to earn a modicum of her respect.

Aziel, meanwhile, was smiling from ear to ear with what could only be described as devilish satisfaction. He was clearly relishing this unexpected turn of events, perhaps seeing it as vindication for his decision to stay.

Arthur felt his resolve crystallize into something unbreakable. The thoughts racing through his mind were clear and focused, burning with an intensity that surprised even him.

’I can’t let her speak to me like I’m that same weak boy anymore,’ he thought fiercely. ’I’ve spent so long, so much time, destroying that version of me. I’ve bled and suffered and grown in ways she can’t even imagine.’

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he could feel power thrumming through his veins—not just realm energy, but something deeper and more fundamental. The strength that came from refusing to give up, from choosing to stand and fight even when the odds were impossible.

’I need to show her who I am now,’ he continued, his mental voice growing stronger with each thought. ’I need to earn her respect here and now. I need to prove that I’m not the same failure she remembers.’

The final thought came with crystal clarity, burning through his consciousness like a star going supernova.

’I need to beat her.’