Chapter 579 – Exploring The Tunnels.

“Lord Arthur, you haven’t slept in two days. You need to take a break.”

“There is no time for that, Mary. I need to prepare as much as I can.”

Books lay scattered across the wooden floor like fallen leaves, dozens of thick tomes with cracked spines and yellowed pages. Maps covered the walls, overlapping charts and diagrams creating a tangled web of strategy and governance. Arthur sat hunched over his desk, fingers pressed to his temples, trying to absorb one more page, one more theory, one more tactic.

Candlelight flickered beside him, casting restless shadows across the room. He looked worn down. His usually sharp eyes had dulled, dark circles heavy beneath them. His tunic was wrinkled, the collar half unfastened, and a thin sheen of sweat clung to his brow. Scrolls lay open on every available surface: records of diplomatic successes, failed alliances, siege plans, taxation systems, and magic engineering notes. He was clearly combing through every piece of knowledge that might help him pass the trial.

“But my Lord, think of your health. What if…”

Before Mary could finish, Arthur cut her off.

“What if I don’t pass and run out of time? The assembly is approaching. This might be my last chance.”

His voice rose as frustration crept in, but he managed to steady himself before continuing. He understood how unusual his class was, and the more unique the class, the longer the wait between trials had become. Normally, the next stage would begin after a day. For him, nearly three days had passed with no sign. If the delay stretched beyond six days, he feared he would lose the opportunity altogether.

“We need to leave soon. I cannot afford to stop now. Don’t worry, the elixirs and stamina potions should carry me through. Once the trial is over, I’ll get some proper sleep.”

Mary remained silent, her eyes drifting to the empty bottles scattered across the desk. In theory, the magic within them would restore energy and calm the mind, mimicking the effects of rest. But such effects had limits. Without a high-level sleep resistance skill and a body conditioned to endure strain, the potions would eventually lose their effectiveness. Roland had both. Arthur did not.

“Is there something important? If not, then please let me be, Mary.”

“Ah, yes. Here, Lord Arthur. These are notes from Sir Wayland regarding the trial. He asked me to give them to you.”

Arthur took the packet of notes with trembling hands. His fingers were stained with ink and smudged with graphite from hours of scribbling annotations. The moment the parchment touched his palm, he felt a faint pulse and saw a rune emerge. The text began to glow with a bluish hue, and in that instant, the transfer of knowledge surged through him.

This was not the first time he had encountered this kind of spell, but he knew its use came with strict limitations. It only worked when the author inscribed the text in a precise way, constantly channeling mana into the parchment using a specialized quill and enchanted ink. His friend Roland still had scribe skills and had mastered this technique. Through these magical notes, Arthur could quickly grasp the underlying structure of the trial and discern the patterns that would help him uncover the traitor and secure victory.

“Fascinating…”

When the process ended, he emerged from the trance-like state. His fingers rested on the final page, trembling slightly as the last threads of Roland’s enchanted knowledge settled into his mind. Arthur blinked, trying to steady his breathing as the rush of information began to fade. The exhaustion he had been suppressing seemed to lift for a moment, but then his body gave in. He slumped forward against the desk.

Mary caught his head gently, as though she had been expecting this exact moment. The surge of knowledge had overwhelmed him, and though the information would remain with him, he would be forced to rest. It was a known side effect, one Mary had quietly hoped for.

“Rest well, my Lord. Once you wake, perhaps you will be one step closer to your goal.”

She didn’t move him from the chair, afraid that any shift might wake him. Instead, she let him rest gently against the desk. Mary carefully draped a cloak over his shoulders, then began quietly gathering the scattered books from the floor. Many were filled with scribbled notes in Arthur’s hurried handwriting. Titles like ‘Diplomatic Webs of the Kingdom’, ‘Foundations of Farming in Mana-Rich Regions’, and ‘Tyrants, Traitors, and Tacticians’ spoke volumes about what he had been trying to learn.

Her gaze drifted to the wall behind him. There, the emblem of the Valerian household hung in pristine condition. When they first arrived in this small settlement that barely qualified as a city, she had hoped Arthur would find peace. She had believed, perhaps foolishly, that Albrook could offer him a quiet life, far from the ambitions and politics of his lineage. She had hoped he would forget about his brothers, just as they had forgotten about this place.

But the arrival of Roland had changed everything. In some quiet corner of her heart, she resented him for that. He had reignited Arthur’s dreams. Now Arthur stood at the heart of the very world he once tried to escape, learning to lead, to manipulate, and to conquer. All for a trial that would drag him deeper into the struggle he should have despised.

She didn’t want him caught in the succession battle. She feared that in pursuing it, he would become no different from the nobles he had once stood apart from. But these were thoughts she could never voice aloud. Her role was not to question his path. Her duty was to protect him. That had always been her purpose. She was his maid, and she would help him achieve the goal he had set for himself.

*****

“He is giving his all.”

Roland glanced at the sleeping Arthur, his form a small screen within his helmet. While he at first didn’t want to include runic cameras into his chambers, they decided to put them in as a safety measure as the possibility of assasination attempts was high. The entire mansion was filled with runic sensors and detectors.

At the moment, no assassin had made it through, though several had attempted. Most were tier two killers who never stood a chance. It was clear their enemies were testing defenses, measuring their strength. Despite capturing every intruder, none of them revealed any useful information about who had sent them. Now that Arthur’s fame was growing, stronger enemies were likely to appear. Reducing their defensive measures would be foolish.

“He’s on day three. Mine took ten when I awakened the Overlord class. I wonder how rare his is.”

His AI helper Sebastian had analyzed the possible patterns within the trial and Roland had taken the time to record them in a specialized notebook. Yet, the trial had not restarted, and if it was a class of his level, it could take ten days or more to reset. From an outsider’s perspective, the test didn’t appear as difficult as the Overlord trial, but he couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless, it seemed to be more challenging than what Robert and Lucille had experienced, as theirs had restarted after three days for Lucille and a half day later for Robert.

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“Well, the longer the better. I still need time to finish setting up this relay station.”

Roland stood in what looked like an underground tunnel, though he wasn’t truly alone. The walls around him glowed faintly with embedded light runes. They pulsed in a slow rhythm, conserving energy while providing guidance for the workers who would arrive later.