Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons

"Or should I say… Arthur Fate."

Arthur's blood turned to ice.

For the first time in a long time, his body betrayed him—just slightly. A minuscule hitch in his breath. A twitch in his fingers. A reaction so subtle that most wouldn't have noticed.

But Adam noticed.

The satisfaction in his expression was unmistakable.

Arthur's mind raced, every possible angle, every possible outcome spinning at once. How? How did Adam know?

No one knew his real name.

No one.

Yet Adam had spoken it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Arthur forced himself to remain still, to keep his expression unreadable, but the weight of those two words had already changed everything.

This wasn't just suspicion.

This wasn't just a test.

Adam knew him.

The silence between them stretched unbearably, a thin wire pulled to its breaking point.

Arthur's grip on Chaos tightened ever so slightly.

Then, slowly, he forced his fingers to relax.

He knew what this meant.

He lost.

Not in a fight. Not in a duel where he could swing his blade, summon his creatures, and tear apart his enemies. No, this wasn't that kind of battle. This was a loss on a level far more personal, far more crippling.

Adam knew who he was.

Which meant Adam knew where he slept every day.

And more importantly—he knew about Charlotte.

Arthur's chest tightened. His breath hitched just slightly. He forced himself to stay calm, to think.

But the thoughts were already slipping, unraveling into something raw, something desperate.

I was careless.

Arthur ignored Adam entirely. He didn't care anymore. There was no point in talking.

He immediately logged off.

The world around him blurred, the colors melting away as his mind disconnected from Armageddon.

And then—

He was back.

Arthur's eyes snapped open. The dull hum of the hospital machines filled the air, a sharp contrast to the deadly silence of the forest he'd just been standing in.

His body jolted upright on the hospital's guest bed, his mind still half-wired for combat, half-expecting to see Adam standing before him.

Instead, his eyes landed on something far worse.

A man in a trench coat.

Sitting.

Right where Charlotte's bed was supposed to be. But Charlotte—She wasn't there.

Arthur's heart pounded. He was on his feet in an instant, closing the distance between them before his thoughts even caught up.

His hand shot out, gripping the man's collar in a anger.

"Where is Charlotte?!" His voice was sharp, raw with barely restrained fury.

The man barely reacted. He just smiled.

A slow, knowing, infuriating smile.

"Calm down," the man said, with a smooth tone, like someone who was used to this kind of reaction. "She is in safe hands."

'Safe hands?'

Arthur's grip tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"Where the hell is she?!" He repeated.

"We decided she should receive better treatment," the man continued, unbothered by the rage burning in Arthur's eyes. "So we moved her to one of our special hospitals. She'll be taken care of there. She'll be comfortable."

Arthur barely heard the rest of the words.

"We decided?"

His breath came out ragged, his entire body wired with unfiltered rage.

His fingers twitched an instinctual urge to strike creeping into his limbs.

He had fought demons in armageddon which was another world as real as the one he was currently in, he had carved through monsters that towered over him, had faced enemies with hellish strength—But he had never wanted to kill someone as badly as he did now.

"Who the hell are you to decide what my sister wants? What I want?!"

The man's smile didn't waver. If anything, it deepened, like he was enjoying this.

Arthur's grip on his collar tightened further. The fabric bunched in his fist, his muscles coiling. If this man thought he could just waltz in here, take Charlotte away, and sit there smugly like it was all fine—

He was wrong.

Dead wrong.

The man exhaled slowly, like he had all the time in the world. "I understand that you're upset, Fateless," he said, his voice almost amused.

Arthur's blood ran cold.

"Let her go," Arthur demanded, his voice dangerously low.

The man chuckled.

It was light. Casual. As if Arthur had just cracked a joke instead of issued a deadly threat. Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire

"She's not a prisoner, Arthur," the man said smoothly. "She's receiving care. The best care available. Much better than whatever she was getting here."

Arthur's breath shuddered through his teeth. His fingers itched to strike. But he held himself back. Barely.

"Where?" His voice was sharp, clipped. "Which hospital?"

The man sighed, like a parent dealing with an impatient child. "That's classified information, I'm afraid."

Arthur snapped.

With a sharp shove, he threw the man back into the chair, making the legs scrape against the cold hospital floor.

The man, for the first time, frowned.

Arthur loomed over him, hands clenched at his sides, his breath coming hard and fast. His pulse roared in his ears.

"Tell me where she is."

The man dusted off his coat. Adjusted it. Then looked up at Arthur again with boredom.

"Or what?"

Arthur's entire body trembled with barely contained rage.

His mind screamed at him to break this man's face, to tear through him like he had done to every enemy before him.

But then—The man moved.

Arthur barely had time to react before the man's hand clamped around his throat like a steel vice.

His eyes widened in shock, his instincts screaming at him to retaliate—but then it hit him. This wasn't Armageddon.

His body wasn't enhanced.

His strength wasn't abnormal.

His summons weren't here to protect him.

He was just Arthur again. A scrawny teenager who had spent months being malnourished, surviving on scraps he found in the slums.

A week of decent food wasn't going to fix that.

The realization sank in at the same time the air was choked from his lungs.

The man lifted him effortlessly, his grip unyielding. Arthur's feet left the ground, his body weightless against the sheer strength of his attacker. His fingers clawed at the hand around his neck, but it was like trying to pry apart solid iron.

The man sneered. "Listen here, kiddo." His voice was low, smooth, but laced with condescension. "I gave you respect. I spoke to you with patience. But it seems like you don't appreciate that."

Arthur's vision blurred slightly at the edges, his lungs burning as the man's grip tightened. He struggled, his legs kicking out instinctively, but the man didn't even flinch.

His lips curled into an amused smirk.

"So, let me teach you something."

With a casual flick of his wrist, he threw Arthur like he weighed nothing.

Arthur's back slammed against the cold, unforgiving wall of the hospital room.

Pain exploded down his spine. His breath left his lungs in a sharp gasp as he crumpled to the ground, landing hard on his side.

A sharp, coppery taste filled his mouth. Blood.

His mind reeled.

When was the last time he had felt like this?

Weak. Helpless. Vulnerable.

He had been living like a king inside Armageddon. His power had been absolute. The world bent to his will. He had been untouchable.

But here?

Here, he was nothing.