Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons-Chapter 279: Roy

Knock-knock.

No response.

Knock-Knock.

A few seconds passed before Arthur heard shuffling footsteps inside. Then a pause, followed by someone walking toward the door.

The door cracked open, revealing the bartender's suspicious face. When he saw Arthur—or rather, the stranger's face Arthur was wearing—his expression relaxed slightly.

"Yeah? What do you want?"

Arthur smiled. "Just a moment of your time."

Before Roy could respond, Arthur's hand shot out, gripping the bartender's throat and shoving him back inside. Roy's eyes widened in panic, his hands clawing at Arthur's grip.

Before the bartender could activate whatever talent he possessed, Arthur drove his knee into the man's solar plexus. The air left Roy's lungs in a painful wheeze as he collapsed to the floor, curling inward.

'There's one more,' Arthur thought, sensing another presence as he stepped over Roy's unconscious body.

He moved through the modest home toward the back room where he felt the presence waiting. Before he could enter, a fragile voice called out.

"Roy? What's wrong, honey? Is everything alright?"

Arthur stopped in the doorway, momentarily frozen by the scene before him.

An elderly woman sat in a reclining chair near a small hearth. Her silver hair was tied in a neat bun, and her weathered hands rested on what looked like knitting in her lap. Despite the commotion, she showed no fear—her milky eyes staring vacantly in Arthur's direction.

"Roy?" she called again, her voice quavering slightly.

Arthur waved his hand in front of her face, confirming his suspicion when she didn't react.

'She's blind...'

"Roy, dear, is someone there? I heard the door." The old woman set her knitting aside, hands feeling for the walking stick propped against her chair. "Did Mr. Linden finally bring those herbs for my tea?"

Arthur remained silent.

"I'm sorry for the quiet," the woman continued into the silence, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her growing unease. "My son doesn't always tell me when we have visitors. I'm Eleanor, Roy's mother."

She extended a frail hand in Arthur's general direction, missing him by several feet. The gesture was so innocent, so utterly defenseless that Arthur felt something unfamiliar twist in his chest.

Arthur walked back towards Roy and kicked him awake.

Roy woke up and was about to use his talent before he saw his mother right next to Arthur.

"I've been making his favourite stew today," she continued, filling the silence that made her nervous. "Roy works so hard at that tavern. Always has, ever since his father passed. Twenty years now, can you imagine? Never complains, even when those fancy guilds don't pay what they owe."

From the hallway came the sound of Roy struggling to his feet, still gasping for breath.

"Don't..." Roy wheezed. "Please... she doesn't know anything." He whispered.

Arthur looked between the blind woman with her outstretched hand and the bartender who had ratted on him

"Is someone there?" Eleanor's voice trembled more noticeably now, her hand slowly lowering. "Roy? You're scaring me, son."

The simple fear in her voice—not for herself, but for her son—struck Arthur in a place he thought long dead.

He thought of Charlotte. Of what he would do for her. Of what he had already done.

'Still. This man would have gotten me killed and robbed had I not been strong enough.' Arthur's moment of hesitation vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

He squatted down beside Roy. "Tell your mom you have somewhere to go," he whispered, grip tightening just enough to emphasize the threat.

Roy nodded frantically, struggling to speak through the pain. "M-Mom. Give me a few minutes, I left something in the tavern."

The old woman sighed in relief at hearing her son's voice. "Oh, dear! You scared me. I thought something happened to you."

"It's alright, Mom. I'll be back."

Arthur grabbed Roy by the neck, closed the door with his other hand, and teleported directly to the forest.

Deep in the wilderness, miles from Caldera, Arthur threw Roy against a massive oak. The bartender's body crashed through it with a sickening crack, tumbling through the splintered remains before smashing into a second tree.

"Argh!" Roy grunted, struggling to his feet. Blood trickled from his temple as he squinted at his attacker. "I've never seen you before. Who are you?"

"Me? You've seen me before." Arthur released Loki's mask, his features shifting back to normal.

Recognition dawned in Roy's eyes, followed by pure terror. "It's you? I thought you were dead!"

Arthur tilted his head, a cold smile playing across his lips. "Well, I am. I'm just here to hunt you in my ghost form."

Roy scrambled backward, pressing against the shattered tree trunk. "P-please! I have a mother to take care of!"

"So. Tell me." Arthur ignored the man's pleas, advancing slowly. "How do you think I should repay you for what you've done?"

"I don't understand! All I did was report that a new person was asking questions about land! That's it!"

"And send a thief after me. One who would have killed me if I'd been weaker." Arthur's voice remained conversational, making his words all the more chilling. "Do you know what happened to that thief, Roy?"

The bartender shook his head, trembling.

Arthur snapped his fingers, and George appeared beside him—the very thief Roy had sent.

"Oh god," Roy whispered. "Please. My mother is blind. She has no one else."

Arthur's eyes remained cold, unmoved. "Does it look like I... care? You should've thought about that before sending thieves after people." He tilted his head slightly. "Any last wish?"

"I—"

"I don't care." Arthur cut him off, raising his hand.

One of the massive tree trunks Roy's body had snapped through suddenly levitated. Before Roy could blink, Arthur sent it flying with terrifying speed, impaling the bartender through the chest.

Blood spurted from Roy's mouth as his eyes bulged in shock. But instead of dying, he moved his trembling hand to his mouth.

Arthur watched, curious. 'What the hell is he doing?'