AK : RISING MYTHIC

Sound of hooves thundered against the stone-paved courtyard of the Mythic Base as the scouting party finally burst through the gate. Tharion leapt off Aswad, Arslan limp in his arms, his head falling sideways with dark veins crawling down his face.

"OPEN THE DOORS!!" Tharion bellowed, his voice echoing off the courtyard walls.

"CALL THE HEALERS! NOW!!" Kaelen yelled behind him as he helped keep the path clear. Guards scrambled in panic, one tripping over his own feet as he dashed toward the main tower.

The tranquil afternoon was shattered by a storm of shouts, rushing boots, and the piercing cry of desperation from friends watching their leader collapse.

Yuna screamed, "He's fading fast!"

Seris, panting and bloodied, followed closely behind. The blackened stains on Arslan's skin had spread further down his arms and neck, glowing faintly with a cursed shimmer.

Doors burst open. Mythics who were inside the base poured into the courtyard after hearing the screaming. Nirela, still tying the last ribbon of her robe, sprinted barefoot, eyes wide.

"Arslan! What happened!?" she cried, rushing toward them.

Tharion didn't answer—his face was tight, lips trembling. He just carried Arslan straight into the infirmary, where glowing lanterns flickered with sensing magic.

The moment they entered, the room turned chaotic. Healers from the Mythic Base surrounded Arslan's cot, casting multiple spells in rapid succession. White light, green mists, golden pulses—none of them worked. The magic fizzled against his body, unable to penetrate the black stains writhing over his chest and neck.

Kaelen stood frozen, fists clenched. "This... this isn't a normal wound…"

Yuna gritted her teeth. "I've healed near-fatal gashes. I've even brought back a heart that stopped. But this… This is something else!"

The sound of magical incantations layered over each other like a storm—runes swirled in the air, sigils glowed and faded.

Tharion finally spoke, voice hoarse. "He used Shadow Stride… then Dark Infusion… to boost our power. But right after we won the fight, he collapsed."

One of the healers turned, her eyes wide with dread. "His soul signature is disrupted. His essence isn't rejecting our healing—it's being overwritten by something else."

Seris gasped. "Is he being… corrupted?"

Suddenly, black blood gushed again from Arslan's mouth.

Nirela screamed and collapsed to her knees at the side of the cot. "Arslan! Please! Look at me!" She gripped his hand tightly, but his fingers were ice-cold, limp, and speckled with ink-dark spots.

The healers exchanged nervous glances.

"We need higher healing magic!" one shouted.

Footsteps thundered outside again, then a guard yelled: "The Royal Healers have arrived!"

Through the open doorway, three cloaked figures entered, each with glowing blue pendants, the symbol of the Royal Healing Order on their robes.

The lead healer, a tall woman named Miravel, approached Arslan and placed a hand on his chest. Her expression darkened almost instantly.

"This is not poison. Not infection. Not fatigue."

"Then what is it?" Kaelen asked sharply.

Miravel exhaled. "It is… taint. Something ancient."

Tharion stepped forward, shaking. "What's your mean—?"

The room fell silent.

Miravel only nodded.

Just then, Julius arrived, his Council robes slightly disheveled, showing he'd rushed here. His face turned pale when he saw Arslan. "What the hell happened?"

Tharion answered, steadying his breath. "We were ambushed in the second cave. There were too many creatures. Arslan used Dark Infusion on all of us—it worked—but afterward... this started. He collapsed."

Julius moved slowly to the cot, his eyes studying Arslan's face. The boy who once challenged an elite devil now looked like he was at death's door.

"He fought to protect others again…" Julius whispered, more to himself.

Yuna whispered, "Why him? Why always him?"

Nirela was still clinging to his hand, silent tears dripping onto Arslan's fingers.

Miravel's hands hovered again over his body. She chanted something in the old tongue of warding. A weak shield formed over Arslan—but it crackled and flickered.

Kaelen turned to Julius, voice low. "This is beyond recovery if it spreads to his mind or heart."

"He's not dying!" Nirela snapped, suddenly standing, eyes blazing. "He's the strongest among us—he will come back! I know he will!"

Everyone went silent.

Then—a sudden jolt.

Arslan's body spasmed violently. His back arched off the cot as if struck by lightning. The black veins surged like ink spilled into water.

"Hold him down!" Miravel yelled.

Arslan slumped completely.

His breathing was shallow. His chest barely moved. His head tilted, face pale as snow.

Miravel stepped back, breathing heavily. "He's alive. But only just. Something's feeding on him from within… and we have no idea what."

Yuna wiped her tears and placed both hands over Arslan's heart, whispering a prayer.

Nirela whispered to herself, "Please, come back… I can't lose you… not after everything…"

Outside the ward, other Mythics gathered. The usually strong and unshakable base now felt like a temple of mourning.

Miravel gave one last warning. "If he wakes, don't let him fight. Even if he appears well… whatever did this is still inside him."

Nirela didn't look up. She only held Arslan's hand tighter.