Capítulo 337: Beyond Strength
'Do all these girls want to make this a tradition?' I mused as Rachel led me to lunch with her father and sister after spending the night with her.
At least, unlike Cecilia, Rachel hadn't insisted I address her father as "Father" while radiating enough audacity to light up a city. Small mercies, I supposed.
And, unlike Quinn, I found Alastor much easier to deal with. He seemed genuinely interested in rebuilding the rapport we'd once shared, offering to teach me the Astraeus method and encouraging me to call him Uncle. It was a refreshing contrast to the tension I'd faced in the Imperial Palace.
The Creighton estate, though, was something else entirely. If the Slatemark Imperial Palace was the pinnacle of regal grandeur, this place was steeped in an almost otherworldly charm. The air itself seemed to hum with an ancient energy, as though the walls held whispers of centuries past.
We moved through the estate's intricate halls, each more striking than the last, until we arrived at the dining hall. Sunlight streamed through crystalline windows, casting refracted rainbows across polished surfaces. The effect was mesmerizing, like stepping into a realm of light and shadow carefully crafted to dazzle the senses.
Kathyln and Alastor were already seated, their presence as composed and stately as the room itself. Kathyln's silver hair caught the light as she glanced up at me, her piercing blue eyes unreadable. Alastor, on the other hand, wore an expression I couldn't quite place—somewhere between polite neutrality and quiet approval.
Rachel slid into her seat gracefully, gesturing for me to take mine beside her.
"Well," Alastor said, breaking the silence, "shall we begin?"
I nodded respectfully. "Good morning, Uncle. Your Highness."
"You can just call me 'older sister,' Arthur," Kathyln said with a rare smile.
"Thank you... older sister," I replied, a touch hesitant but appreciative of the gesture.
Lunch began smoothly, the soft clinking of utensils filling the room. To my relief, Alastor didn't seem to hold any visible grudge about my spending the night with Rachel, though I remained on guard just in case.
Partway through the meal, Alastor turned to me with a question. "So, Arthur, what do you think of your current spellcasting level?"
I considered my words carefully before responding. "Honestly? It's very lacking."
His gaze sharpened. "Lacking how?"
"It's not lacking for a normal peak Integration-ranker," I clarified, "but compared to my swordsmanship, it's nowhere close. The gap feels insurmountable."
Alastor nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "Your swordsmanship talent is extraordinary—almost unnaturally so. It's not surprising your spellcasting struggles to keep pace. But you've also neglected it, haven't you?"
"Yes," I admitted without hesitation. There was no point in denying it. My focus had been almost entirely on the sword.
He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, a habit I recognized from our training sessions. "Your spellcasting may never rival your swordsmanship—that's the reality of specializing. But it doesn't need to. What you should aim for is versatility. Develop your spellcasting enough that it becomes a reliable ace up your sleeve. A tool, not a crutch."
His words resonated with me, a practical solution to a glaring imbalance. I nodded. "I understand, Uncle. I'll work to close the gap—not to match my swordsmanship, but to make it count when it matters."
Alastor's faint smile deepened as he nodded approvingly. "Good. You've always been sharp, Arthur. Keep that mindset, and you'll go further than even I expect. Though, truthfully, you've already shattered any expectations I had for you."
"Thank you, Uncle," I said with a grin.
He leaned back in his chair. "So, how do you want to approach this?"
"Uncle," I began, gathering my thoughts, "can I stay at the Creighton estate to practice and work toward reaching 7-circle magic?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, discerning my intent. "You're aiming to break through to Ascendant-rank with both 7-circle magic and Sword Heart, aren't you?"
Kathyln and Rachel both turned to me in surprise, but I nodded.
"How daring," Alastor remarked, his tone carrying a mix of amusement and admiration. "But... you'll still return to the academy."
I hesitated before responding. "Maybe not."
"What?" Rachel exclaimed, her voice laced with shock. "Arthur, what are you talking about?"
I scratched the back of my head, feeling the weight of her gaze. "Rach, I'm already stronger than most of the professors there. Honestly, I don't see myself learning much more. I've got so many other things to handle, and, well, I've already earned my lower years degree. I don't see much point in staying to finish the upper years."
Kathyln raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at her lips. "The academy's prestige will take quite the hit if its Rank 1 leaves."
"They'd likely offer you some very generous terms to keep you," Alastor suggested, his voice calm but calculated.
"Do you think I should stay?" I asked, curious about his perspective.
He nodded, his expression resolute. "Take advantage of the academy, Arthur. Ask for what you need—another Grade 5 art, extended time off, exemptions from theory exams. Use their resources to push your strength even further. There's no need to quit outright when you can turn the situation to your benefit."
Rachel, who had been frowning moments ago, brightened at Alastor's words. "That's actually a good idea. They'd never want to lose their Rank 1, especially not someone like you."
Kathyln chuckled softly. "And I doubt they'd say no to anything you ask, considering how much they've invested in you."
I rubbed my chin, considering their advice. "It's true. I can probably make it work to my advantage. Thanks, Uncle. I'll think about it carefully."
Alastor inclined his head thoughtfully. "Good. You've made it this far by being resourceful, Arthur. Don't forget to keep leveraging every opportunity that comes your way. And there's one more thing."
"What is it?" I asked, curious.
He hesitated, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish expression. "Well, I don't want to sound blunt or overly critical..."
"No, Uncle. Please, just tell me," I urged, sensing the importance of his words.
He sighed, meeting my gaze steadily. "Exposure and learning, Arthur. You've got a great head on those shoulders, but I've noticed you don't always use it to its fullest potential. And if I'm honest, it's something that's worsened as your strength has grown."
I blinked, surprised but not offended. "What do you mean?"
"Mythos Academy, especially in the upper years, shifts its focus. It's less about raw strength and more about honing the mind—strategy, wisdom, understanding how to navigate the complexities of the world. Right now, you have a sharp mind, but you don't always know how to wield it properly."
His words lingered, a mix of praise and constructive critique. "You're brilliant in the heat of battle, Arthur, and your instincts are second to none. But the world isn't always a battlefield. The upper years would challenge you to think beyond the sword, beyond the immediate. That's an edge you'll need as you rise higher."
I nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "So you're saying I need to sharpen my mind as much as my blade."
"Exactly," Alastor said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Strength can carry you far, Arthur, but there will come a time when it's the mind that wins the battle, not the sword. And if you're going to marry three princesses, you'll need to master both."
I nodded, his words sinking in with the weight of truth.
"Look at your master, the Martial King," Alastor continued, his tone more reflective now. "He's the Rank 1 of humanity—an unmatched figure of strength and skill. Everyone reveres him for his power, but here's the thing: he isn't the most influential man in the world."
That caught my attention. I tilted my head, urging him to elaborate.
"Magnus is alone," Alastor explained, leaning back slightly. "Even now, he's locked in battle against the Vampire Monarch, a fight few people even recognize or care about. Why? Because he has no empire, no family, no people who are truly his, apart from you. He's overwhelming in strength, but strength alone doesn't shape the world. He lacks the ability or desire to navigate the complexities of politics and influence."
Alastor's blue eyes locked onto mine, his expression sharp and calculating. "The world is a chessboard, Arthur. Every kingdom, every guild, every individual of importance is a piece. If you don't learn to see the board clearly and understand how to move those pieces to your advantage, you'll find yourself at the mercy of those who do."
He leaned forward, his voice quieter but carrying even more weight. "You have the strength to conquer mountains, but if you want to hold onto what you conquer—if you want to truly rule—then you need to play the game. You need to look at every decision, every interaction, every alliance as part of a greater strategy. Otherwise, you'll become like Magnus: a legend, yes, but a legend isolated by his own inability to wield anything but raw power."
His words lingered, heavy and sobering. I clenched my fists lightly, the enormity of his advice settling in my mind. "I understand, Uncle. You're saying strength isn't enough to shape the world—strategy and influence are just as important."
"Exactly," Alastor affirmed. "And with the responsibilities you're walking into, Arthur, you can't afford to be good at one and ignore the other. The world won't let you."
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