The Dreamer's Fall

Chapter 43 - Meat & Bone

Arthur wanted to plant his palm firmly on his face. He had come up with that excuse on the spot, so it wasn't surprising that Jeren asked about it. He didn't intend to keep using it as an excuse and planned to add obfuscation to the mana soul spell when he returned to camp.

However, for now, Arthur had to follow through with his claims lest he be called a liar.

"It isn't as simple as I let on. If someone saw the spell while it was being cast, my spirit would be consumed along with theirs. That's why I put such emphasis on telling everyone to look away. If it consumed other's spirits, I would be invincible as long as I kept casting the spell.

"The truth is that the spell's negative effect is due to an error in the spellwork that I've all but ironed out. So by the time we reach Bern, it should be fixed, and I won't have to worry about it anymore."

Jeren showed a touch of awe in his expression for the first time. "You learned Aetherin, lord? Is that spell one you made on your own?"

"Yes, I've been learning Aetherin for years, but the spell came from a vision I saw that takes place far into my future. Unfortunately, I couldn't see all the spellwork as there was some paperwork on my desk that obscured my vision of it. So, in a sense, I did create it. However, a future version of myself did most of the work."

Arthur didn't want to claim total credit for the mana soul spell as he felt that being able to complete a partial spell was outrageous enough for a thirteen-year-old. So, his fake visions offered a definitive explanation that allowed him to claim the credit without seeming too unbelievably skilled.

He wasn't worried about Foster, but now that Jeren had witnessed so much, Arthur needed to inspire his confidence and loyalty while spinning a web of lies that, should Jeren's loyalty waver, wouldn't hurt Arthur in the long run.

As such, he wasn't worried about his abilities leaking, fake or otherwise. It wasn't so much that he trusted Jeren. It was just too ridiculous a story, even in a fantasy world like Nithe.

If Jeren told anyone that Arthur was a thirteen-year-old spell-crafting psychic who could raise the dead thanks to a partial spell he gleaned from the far future, they'd say he needed to stop drinking. But, even beyond that, Jeren needed to have already decided that telling someone outweighed the risks of betraying a person who could see the future.

It may all be fake, but he had witnessed Arthur's foresight firsthand, and to him, it was authentic. If Jeren betrayed him, a voice would remain in the back of his mind, constantly asking whether Arthur knew about the betrayal and simply decided not to stop him because he was already walking into a trap.

Foster smiled and put a hand behind his back. "Young master, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It doesn't work like that. Sometimes, I see entire days at a time, and sometimes, I only see a few minutes, like back at the smithy. Either way, my visions seem to focus on benefiting me and keeping me out of danger, not silly tricks."

"...What about gambling?" Foster asked as his eyes glowed with anticipation.

Since card games existed on Nithe, Arthur had already considered gambling while using Kyren to cheat. Unfortunately, he hadn't had the opportunity yet.

"Do you see many children inside gambling houses?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

"Well, no..." Foster rubbed his chin as he searched his memories. "But I don't think they have any official age restrictions."

"There shouldn't be any. Most gambling houses only care whether or not you have coin." Jeren added.

"I've given it thought before. My age will cause too much of a commotion if I win any substantial amount of money. However, it's on my list of things to test in the future..."