Reawakening with Limitless Mana-Chapter 63: Suspicion

Arthur wanted to stay low, but there was no way to hide his identity.

At teleportation gates—especially the ones that connected two nations—strict checks were unavoidable. Covering your face was out of the question.

"You have permission to enter Durnhalm?" the portal officer asked with a frown, glancing over the letter in his hand. It was an official document from the Duke himself, granting Arthur passage under the excuse of handling some trade matters.

According to the letter, he was supposed to study the market value of certain goods that would soon be sold across the border.

It sounded like simple work—but sending a child for it? Naturally, it raised doubts.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. "Not everything can be written in a formal letter."

The officer blinked.

Then, his brows twitched as the meaning sank in.

"...Oh."

Without another word, he handed the letter back and turned to his assistant. "Prepare the portal."

Arthur smirked. The bluff had landed.

If the officer had pressed the matter—or worse, contacted the Duke directly—things could’ve spiraled out of control fast. That’s why Arthur had dropped a subtle hint that it was related to politics—a matter big enough for the officer to interfere with.

Soon, the portal buzzed to life. Arthur stepped onto the small platform, where tiny orbs of light flickered all around him, wrapping his body. A breath later, he was gone, flung across hundreds of miles in the blink of an eye.

"Haah..." He let out a long breath as he regained his balance, the spinning in his head slowly fading.

Around him were unfamiliar faces—locals of Durnhalm—watching him with quiet interest.

"You can sit here," said one man, likely the leader of the group. He pointed toward a simple chair off to the side.

Arthur wasn’t in a hurry. The real mission would begin tomorrow. For now, it was only early evening.

He nodded and took a seat.

"Thirsty?" another officer asked, offering water.

Arthur politely declined. "I have my own." He pulled out his flask. It had been empty ever since his trip to the teleportation gate.

He didn’t mind.

With a silent command, Arthur called out to the spirits, and they responded.

Being close to a large body of water meant one thing: countless water spirits.

He could feel them, swirling around him like invisible waves.

A slight smile played on his lips. I can practice high-ranking spells here...

His connection with the water spirits had grown strong, strong enough to cast A-rank spells. These were powerful, dangerous techniques, banned from normal training or assessments due to their destructive force.

But here, far from the rules and eyes, he had the perfect chance.

And with tomorrow’s mission possibly demanding some heavy firepower, Arthur had no intention of wasting this opportunity.

The teleportation chief sat across from Arthur, arms crossed, a faint crease on his brow. His eyes, sharp and calculating, made it clear—he didn’t fully buy the story.

’Maybe he knows about the Princess’s excursion. My sudden arrival probably lit a few warning bells.’

Arthur stayed calm. He was already inside Durnhalm, and his identity was still hidden. If things went south, he’d just escape. Simple.

Not because he thought his enemies were weak—he wasn’t that arrogant. But they were near the ocean now.

And here? That was his turf.

He had more than enough confidence to hold his ground... or slip away if needed.

The bald man finally spoke. "You’re here for a market survey. Then you’ll need a guide."

No questions about his age. No probing into his reasons.

Just a short gesture toward a nearby soldier.

"He’ll assist you around the market."

Surveillance, huh? Arthur smirked on the inside. He expected this much. Durnhalm wouldn’t just let a stranger wander freely, especially around these times when their precious princess was going on an outing.

But that was fine.

He gave a polite nod. "I’m thankful."

Let them watch.

He’d already planned for it.

******

"How old are you?" Timothy asked as they strolled through the heart of Durnhalm’s capital.

He was the soldier assigned to Arthur, and though his tone was neutral, the question carried a hint of disbelief.

The streets were lively, lined with stalls overflowing with fruits, spices, fabrics, and trinkets. The scent of roasted meat and sweet pastries floated in the air. Children ran alongside their parents, their laughter mixing with the shouts of vendors calling out deals. The clinking of coins and rustling of paper bags filled the background.

"I’m thirteen," Arthur replied simply. There was no reason to lie.

Timothy raised a brow. "And they gave this task to you?"

Arthur just shrugged. "Intelligence doesn’t come from age. You need a sharp mind and a clear head to judge the market. I’ve got both, so I was chosen."

He didn’t feel a shred of guilt. Lying in moments like this came as easily as breathing.

"Narcissistic kid," Timothy muttered with a scoff.

Arthur didn’t bother responding. He just shrugged again, letting the comment pass.

Later, Timothy asked if Arthur wanted to explore the market a bit more. Arthur politely declined, pretending to be too tired from the long trip.

"There’s a motel nearby," Timothy said, pointing toward a black-and-white building just across the street. "You can rest there."

"Thanks. I can manage from here," Arthur replied, already stepping away before the man could say more.

He crossed the street and stepped into the motel, his thoughts already moving ahead to what needed to be done.

The market behind him was noisy, colorful, and full of life—exactly the kind of place where someone like him could blend in or vanish without a trace.

"A room for the night," he said at the front desk.

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, looked up. "Two gold coins," she replied, then added, "Breakfast is included."

Arthur handed over the coins without a word and accepted the key she slid toward him.

"Warm water will be available after dinner," her voice followed him as he headed up the stairs.

The third floor was quiet. He walked down the hallway, found his room, and turned the doorknob.

Click.

The door opened with a soft creak.

It was a simple room—two windows, a single bed, a small closet, and a wooden table pushed up against the far wall. Nothing fancy, but enough for one night.

Arthur placed his bag on the table, then walked over to the window and drew the curtain aside.

Across the street, right where he expected, stood Timothy.

The soldier was leaning against a stall, pretending to sip tea, but his eyes never left the building. He was watching, alert, patient, waiting to see if Arthur would step out again.

Arthur didn’t feel annoyed.

In fact, he admired the man’s persistence.

It was always good to know what kind of people you were dealing with.

It was then—

{Arthur! Your brother is being bullied! Three students have surrounded him!}

Arthur shot up from his chair, rushing out of the room. He raced down the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the hallway.

But then—

"...ah."

He stopped.

What...was he doing?

Charging out to protect Kevin?

His hands tightened slightly at his sides. But then he slowly loosened his grip.

Did Kevin really need him anymore?

No.

He’s grown stronger. He can handle himself now.

Arthur stood there for a moment, letting the rush of urgency fade into something calmer. He realized—he couldn’t shield his brother forever.

’It’s time... he fought his own battles.’

Letting out a deep breath, Arthur turned around and quietly walked back upstairs, the urgency gone, replaced by quiet resolve.

*******

A/N:- Thank you for reading. I hope you all are enjoying the progression.