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"Is it wrong to fight the world for what you believe in?" asked Arthur, and Yurirl did not answer. "I want to know what message waits for me in the ruins of Runera. The last time I was there, I had to leave because of what happened in Kera. I fought for that city, and what did its ruler do other than wait for my death?"

"This hatred that you have toward the rules is making you blind to how your fights affect the innocent," said Yurirl with a shake of his head. "How many have died because you forced the Light Emperor into resorting to desperate measures?"

"And how could you justify his actions even though his plans killed the person you love?" asked Arthur, making Yurirl boil with anger for the first time. "You throw around these ideals as if you are a wise sage, but in truth, these ideals mask your cowardice in fighting against the world."

"Let\'s not test that," said Yurirl threateningly. "I heard about what the emperor believed. However, that does not mean you are the good guy for stopping him. Your defiance against the powerful shall bring your downfall because it will only create more enemies."

"I never told anyone my story," said Arthur with a smile. "It starts alongside yours, too. We crossed each other in the First Trial of the Holy Crown. I found myself there by accident."

"There are no accidents."

"I started to believe so, too," said Arthur with a nod. "You should know about this, but there is a prophecy that if someone outside the seven families appears in the trial, they must be the outsider. Ever since I awakened this power, I became the enemy. The world has tried to kill me countless times so far, but it failed."

Yurirl knew that he spoke the truth. Time after time, the seven families sent their powerful awakeners to kill Arthur Silvera. This was the custom since ages ago.

"I read about the witch hunt that the seven families did of every person they suspected to be the outsider," said Yurirl with a clenched fist. "Even before awakeners became common, countless men and women died under false accusations."

"And an unjust cause," said Arthur with a cold glare. "I will keep moving forward, Yurirl. The world and its opinion of me are insufficient to stop my ambitions. Since these families treated me as the enemy, I will become their worst nightmare."

"You can do whatever you desire, but do not drag innocents into these fights," said Yurirl with a frown. "I am glad about how things turned out in Ilios, but you are the invader this time."

"I know," said Arthur as he rose. "I just wanted you out of this. It pains me to fight a man I consider a friend."

Yurirl did not answer his words, and Arthur headed toward the door. However, a third presence appeared inside the dojo before he could leave. His aura was mincing and threatening, making even Arthur Silvera halt his steps.

"These friends of yours are quite interesting, cute disciple," said the one-armed man who appeared in front of the door. Yurirl frowned at his master\'s arrival and rose to prevent any fight. "Sit down, my disciple."

Yurirl did not dare to disobey.

Arthur stared at the newcomer and then at his arm before a smile appeared. The sword on his waist and the sole hand resting on it gave Arthur a clue about the newcomer\'s identity. He obtained confirmation from the title he addressed Yurirl with.

"A pleasure to meet you, One-Armed Asura," said Arthur with a smile. "I apologize for sneaking into your guild. It was not easy if that somewhat consoles you. I was on my way out."

"No need to leave so early," said One-Armed Asura. "The entire world anticipates our fight, so we must have a little test beforehand. I need to know whether you are worthy of being my opponent."

"Master, please…" said Yurirl, placing his hands on the wooden floor. "Can you forget about your ritual?"

"I thought I told you to shut up, Yurirl," his master glared at him with a frown. The ground almost caved under the pressure of his rage.

"…you told me to sit."

"Oh, I see. Then, close your damn mouth," said the master without a change in his expression before turning toward Arthur. "You are still here, so you have no plans of running from this place. Are you that confident that you would survive?"

"Death is the one to fear me," said Arthur as he raised his hand. Runes floated around his fingertips like moons around their planet, each ready to attack. "Let\'s do this, old man," he said with a grin.

Three minutes later.

Arthur stared at the small cup, filled to the brim with alcohol. Yurirl stood to the side, shaking his head. As for One-Armed Asura, he poured himself a drink after pouring one for his soon-to-be opponent.

"Drink, drink!" said the old man with a joyful laugh as he gulped down his cup, proving to Arthur that there was no poison in this spiritual alcohol. His face flushed red instantly, and he slammed his cup on the wooden table. "Ha!" he even clicked his tongue to savor the wine.

"…sir, what is this?" asked Arthur with confusion as he stared at the cup in his hand. "Is this the test that you mentioned?"

"What other test would there be?" asked One-Armed Asura, waving his hand. "I always share a cup before I duel someone. You even saved me the trouble of visiting Ilios before the war, which I considered. If I did not have the time, I would drink with you on the battlefield!"

"I understand this is a ritual, as Yurirl has mentioned, but… I have no clue for reasons behind it," said Arthur as he blinked with confusion. Then, he turned toward Yurirl. "If he were not your master, I would suspect poison or deceit."

"He is just… a foolish man," said Yurirl, placing his hand on his forehead. "It makes no sense to befriend an opponent, but he is that childish. Please forgive him."

"I told you to shut up, Yurirl!" said the master while waving the bottle and pouring himself another glass. "You should drink too, brat! Your cup is still full!"

Arthur drank, albeit with confusion. The spiritual wine burned his throat, but it somehow tasted sweet. He felt the ground spinning before he regained clarity and found that their cups had been filled again.

"We are about to fight to the death, brat! I heard countless stories about you. Some claim you are invincible, not even losing against calamities and gods! Tell me your heroic deeds, young warrior!"

"…I have none other than my fights," said Arthur as he struggled to open his eyes. The master was already drinking when he started talking. "My most difficult fight was against a low-tiered ant."

"…an ant?!" muttered the old man with shock as he choked and coughed out his wine. "Such a low-tiered monster managed to give you trouble?" he stared at him with disappointment.

"I was weaker than a neo-ranker at that time," said Arthur with a smile. "However, our earlier fights are bound to be the hardest. After all, we grow stronger the more we fight."

"And we grow wiser!" said the old man as he drank his cup again. "I like you, kiddo. I hate fighting someone like you, but I would not mind being defeated by your hands, even if I never lost!"

"Never?" muttered Arthur with surprise, pulling the cup away from his lips. "Then, how did that…" he glanced at his missing arm.

"Ah, this," said the old man with a smile. "I cut this myself."

…

Silence.

Arthur blinked with confusion before he turned toward Yurirl. The genius swordsman opened his eyes with a somber expression. However, his master roared, laughing.

"No need for the gloom, youngsters! I am still the strongest swordsman, even with a single arm, so you can imagine how relieved my enemies were when I lost the other! Buhahahahaha, gah, gah!"

As the old man choked on his wine because of his arrogant laughter, Arthur could not help but smile. He expected the One-Armed Asura to be a sword fanatic like Ivory, but he was wrong.

This man was… interesting.

Arthur did not ask him how he lost his arm but simply raised his sleeve and showed his left arm too. One-Armed Asura was silent as he stared at him, confused.

"Beyond the gates, I am also known as One-Armed Seika."