As he packed to leave, Arthur told his mother about the Medal of Heroism. Instead of being overjoyed, she looked worried. He tried to be as vague as possible regarding how he got it, but it seems this wasn't the source of her worries.
"Art," She held his hand and talked to him in a quiet, unusual, tone. "I'm proud that you helped our country, but please understand…" She paused. "Not everyone deserves to be helped. Your father was the first person to step up if the need arose, but where did that lead him? To be kind to others is to be cruel to oneself, even unknowingly."
Arthur saw the sorrow of a woman who had lost her loved one in her eyes. At that moment, he didn't view his mother as the nagging and authoritative figure but a fragile woman who had been too much. He couldn't say anything but nod and his mother smiled weakly as she rubbed his shoulder.
"My young hero!" She jested as she embraced him and Arthur bid his farewell. Before leaving, he reminded Oren to use the protection jade that he had given him.
He left his house, not planning to return anytime soon. After his exams, it would be the marathon of the end. It was the last period before he went to college and could get into higher-ranked dungeons.
He planned his breakthrough to be in a secluded place that was rich in mana. He had a few options but he decided to attend the ball first before going ahead with his breakthrough. He had no idea how long it would take so he told his mother he'd be staying at the Twilight workshop.
Arthur went alone this time as Master Ronin has already gone ahead of him. Luckily, he'd meet him there and accompany him into the ball. As he left the plane, Arthur took a cab and headed toward a hotel close to the palace and booked a room.
He never had formal attire so he needed to visit a tailor too, one that Master Ronin had recommended. He left after having a meal in his room. He couldn't just use teleport in the capital because he'll be fined for unauthorized usage. If every awakener did as he pleased, some civilians might get hurt.
The tailor shop was called Heavenly Fabric and was in the high-class district. Arthur much preferred the lower-district, downtown of the capital where vendors shouted and crowds filled the streets. Everyone here wore elegantly and spoke like they were sons of heavens.
He, however, needed a suit. He walked into the store and found a receptionist. The store was dimly-orange lit and deserted as if people feared going inside. The receptionist bowed to him as she asked if he had an appointment.
"Arthur Silvera,"
"Please wait," She typed into her computer and her eyes scanned it before nodding his way. "Dear customer, let me guide you to the nearest tailoring room. The master would be there shortly."
Her attitude was more respectful than Arthur would have preferred but it was better than how most receptionists disregarded him for his clothes and looks. Arthur was raised in a poor environment, making him cringe at the fashionable attires some nobles wore.
He had to wait in a room with many mirrors and a circular pedestal in the middle. There were rolls of fabrics everywhere and a set of furniture where Arthur sat down waiting. It wasn't that long before the door opened and a person walked in.
"Yuran?" Arthur was stunned for a second before he stood up from his seat. The fragile-looking young man was the same as always, thin and kind.
"Hey, Arthur. I saw you were here, so I dropped by." He grinned and walked over. The two hugged each other lightly before Yuran took a seat.
"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked with confusion.
"Well, I came here to tailor a suit. I finished taking measurements and picking a fabric so I was leaving until I spotted you going into this room. Thought you would need some company?"
"Haha, I did. It's been so long since we met." Arthur laughed and looked at Yuran, inspecting him. "You still look like you are fed up with the world."
"Maybe I am?" Yuran sighed. "I've heard about your achievements. I'll be going around telling people I'm a friend of the famous champion, Ghost!" Yuran dramatically posed and Arthur wanted to hide somewhere.
"Don't, that's embarrassing. I'm not a champion yet, though."
"I've seen the videos. If you're not the champion, then I'm suing the association." Yuran smiled lightly. Arthur smiled warmly at Yuran's overprotectiveness.
"Are you here to have a suit? For tomorrow?" Yuran asked again after talking about Arthur's exams.
"Yeah, it's a hassle but it must be done." Arthur grimaced. "Are you attending as well?"
"I am, can't miss being there. The whole world has its eyes on this ball. After all, it would be the celebration of the kingdom's win against the Ilios Empire. However…"
"There won't be a mention of Mistletoe, right?" Arthur smiled. "I've read it online; they won't acknowledge a band of thieves as their savior. That's why they're giving me and a few others medals, labeling us as heroes."
'Even though I'm a member of Mistletoe, so the royal family would end up rewarding the band of thieves either way.' Arthur thought inwardly with a snicker.
"Yeah, it's politics." Yuran adjusted his sleeve. "We can't deny that many soldiers should be rewarded for their service. Even if it was for public image, the kingdom can't turn its eyes away from someone that served it."
Arthur went silent at Yuran's words. His father served in the military in his youth and became an awakener who aspired to join the Temple, but the kingdom had forgotten what he did when he disappeared. They didn't wish to offend Everlasting Stream and the power backing it for a lost awakener.
"Your father isn't what they say he is. I know it because he can't have raised a person who would save others even when he was a non-awakener." Yuran's words interrupted his thoughts. Arthur turned to him and saw that Yuran's face contained sympathy, gratefulness, and complexity.
Usually, he didn't feel emotions so distinctively. However, his Art of Creation allowed him to feel the existence of others more clearly. As the two sat there, he sensed how sincere yet hesitant Yuran was.
"It doesn't matter anymore." Arthur shook his head trying to appear unconcerned.
"It does matter, Arthur." Yuran's eyes turned serious. "You've saved my life. I would have been dead if you didn't risk your own life for me. I thought you were dead when you fell in that hole, but you're here now. It's my chance to repay you."
"You saved mine as well in the trial."
"You wouldn't have died anyway; Layla was never the combatant type." Yuran shook his head. "Allow me to help you. I've spent my whole life looking for a cure for my mother. I know how it must feel to look for something, hoping for its return."
Yuran's words were tinted with sorrow, making Arthur feel sympathetic. He wanted to ask what was wrong with Yuran's mother but he knew some things are better left unsaid. Yuran trusted him enough to tell him this after helping him many times in the past, so he couldn't refuse.
"This is the first time I talked with someone about it since everyone assumed my dad was dead." Arthur looked at his shoes, flexing his toes as he felt them stretch. "I don't know what to do, Yuran. I don't know where to start. If I ever need help, I'll tell you. I promise." Arthur turned to him and said gratefully.
"I'll wait for that." Yuran nodded before standing up. "I think the master is here, so I'll take my leave. See you tomorrow, let's charm some girls together." Yuran grinned as he said. Arthur laughed and the two parted before the master entered.
He was an old hunched man with white hair, eyebrows, and mustache. His eyes were half-closed and grayed that Arthur felt compelled to help him walk, but the master tailor trotted confidently inside, albeit slowly.
"Stand in the middle, boy." He said with his husky voice and Arthur stood on the pedestal as the master tailor nodded approvingly.
"Fine body you have there, boy." Arthur slightly flinched and the master tailor snapped at him. "I'm not into such things, I'm twice as old as your master!" He said with a frown.
"Sorry," Arthur coughed in embarrassment.
"Speed, strength, perception, stamina, and mana. These are the qualities that define your body, to a certain extent. I've seen many unbalanced bodies but yours feels like a perfect work of art. Ronin trained you well, boy."
Arthur didn't comment and the master tailor took his measurement. He then watched as the master tailor bent fabric and fused pieces, making a custom suit from the fabric Arthur had chosen. It was black with golden edges on the side, suiting Arthur's eyes and hair.