Return Of The Strongest Player

Once the physical training ended and the students left, Aryan continued to stare at the Sun with a blank expression on his face. Arthur and a few others, who'd signed up for the swordsmanship class, remained.

The winds were chilly as evening neared. The Sun was starting to tilt to the West, emanating a radiant glow as if bidding farewell to the world. Its yellow glow gradually morphed into a darker shade.

The robes Aryan had slipped into in order to protect him from the chilly winds fluttered rhythmically. With eyes filled with deep thought, the Ranker stared off into the distance, crossing his arms unconsciously.

The verdant greenery was flourishing, despite the lack of ample heat. The Tutorial World was not bound by regular laws, but an abstract version of them. It was self-sufficient, and one of the largest floors of the tower.

According to the myths, the creator of the tower established the Tutorial World immediately after Heaven and Hell. All three floors were abstract in their concepts, and although a few ventured into Hell, no one had yet reached Heaven.

The Untouchable Domain, Destination Without Stairs, Gates Of Bliss…

The players across history used different names in order to refer to Heaven, but they all translated to a single meaning… the 100th floor, the apex of the Universe, the resting place of the creator.

Suddenly, Aryan turned around. His gaze swept across the few newbies that remained while patiently awaiting the initiation of Swordsmanship Training. Aryan couldn't begin before the other newbies arrived, providing him with enough time to…

'There he is,' thought the Ranker. His gaze locked on the crimson-eyed man, who seemed to be spaced out. However, sensing Aryan's gaze, Arthur turned to face the former, raising his eyebrows as a questioning expression manifested on his face.

Aryan motioned for him to come towards him, and Arthur reluctantly complied.

"Yes?" Arthur asked. Aryan remained silent, facing the setting Sun, which spewed orange light in all its glory.

"Arthur, do you know what the best revenge is?" Aryan asked emotionlessly, yet within his voice was a warning. Instead of his innocent demeanor, he now exuded a dangerous aura, capable of striking fear.

However, Arthur wasn't perturbed. He was aware of what Aryan was referring to, but still decided to confirm it. "I do not."

"Forgiveness. It is the best remedy."

"I disagree with that," said the crimson-eyed man. His eyes flashed a deeper shade of crimson, indicating his ideology regarding the matter was solid. He didn't once blink, and kept his gaze on the Sun. "I have heard similar quotes. Do you know what would happen if I wronged someone, and instead of seeking revenge, they focused on bettering themselves, hoping I would notice and be jealous?"

"What?"

"I would not give two shits," said Arthur. "It is their life. They have improved upon themselves using the so-called motivation I provided them. However, that is not revenge. That is accepting the fact that they did not find value in what I did. Something that is of no value to you is not worthy of seeking revenge for."

Aryan let out a sigh, unable to argue. He could refute Arthur's statement, but he was aware the crimson-eyed man would not sacrifice his ideologies due to a petty argument. He was stubborn and adamant.

"I have no idea what grudge you have with Oscar," said Aryan, staring into Arthur's eyes with an unwavering expression. "You have no grudge, actually. I did some digging, and discovered that you and Oscar hadn't met before you visited Hummers Cafe."

Arthur remained silent.

"You are from different planets, and have no connection to each other," said Aryan, his tone growing stronger with each word. "However, you had enormous resentment against the man, so I could only assume you seek revenge for something."

Silence.

"What is it you seek, Arthur?" Aryan asked. "Oscar's death? A genuine apology for the specific matter? Permission to torture the man?"

"All three."

"What is your grudge against that man?" Aryan inquired.

Arthur remained silent, staring into Aryan's eyes for a few seconds. His breathing grew erratic by the second, but he restrained it almost immediately. Mana influenced the color of his eyes for a split second.

"He spilled coffee on me."

*

A few minutes passed, and the newbies arrived. Most were exhausted due to their previous training, but had to bury the exhaustion at the back of their mind. The body could only be controlled by the mind.

They weren't injured, and could move freely.

At that point, it was only their mind that advised them to stop moving. Rest was a temptation, and laziness was the call of the devil.

One could not succumb.

Arthur spotted Jenny, who seemed out of breath. Her mana had been squeezed dry, and she was on the verge of fainting. Yet, attending this class was necessary, considering it influenced whether she was able to become a player or not.

The decision lay in her hands.

Arthur approached the woman, nodding in acknowledgment. The latter reciprocated, and the duo did not speak further. Aside from mutual acquaintances, the two had practically nothing in common.

Also, ever since their first day in the Tutorial World, Jenny had been acting unusual.

'Perhaps it's because I insisted she quit,' thought Arthur, but quickly shook his head. 'Her resolve couldn't be that weak.'

Aryan walked towards the group of newbies. "Some of you know me, but I will introduce myself for those who do not. I am Aryan Patel, a Ranker affiliated to Olympus. I will be your swordsmanship instructor tonight."

It was almost dusk, and the newbies believed they wouldn't be able to return until late at night. They stood atop the training field without having ingested a single bite of food the entire day. Exhaustion and sleepiness was starting to settle.

Their minds insisted they quit.

But that would mean they wouldn't be able to become players. It was akin to abandoning one's hopes and dreams. Even becoming a player was not simple, and required mental fortitude above all.