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I Reincarnated to Another World as a Woman-Chapter 240: The Archmage Arises
"Thea!" Arthur grabs Theo’s shoulder and gives him a small shake.
Then he pulls him into a tight embrace.
"Thea, I don’t know everything that happened," he says quietly, voice low and steady against the roar outside the bubble, "but I know you cannot blame yourself for this."
He strokes Theo’s silky white hair slowly, rhythmically, like he used to when trying to calm him after nightmares.
"Thea, maybe you made a mistake," he continues carefully, choosing his words, "but you didn’t do anything that would warrant your friend to die... again."
He pauses, the word feeling strange in his mouth. He knows there is history there. Another life. Another death.
He gently pushes Theo back so he can see his face.
"He chose to do it, Thea. You didn’t force him. He chose his own path." Arthur’s voice is firm, but not harsh.
"At least he got to choose how he died," he adds softly. "Nothing and no one killed him. He made that decision himself."
Theo looks up at him. He has to tilt his head because of the height difference. His eyes are still wet.
"You really think so?" he asks in a small voice, almost a whisper. There is something desperate in that question, like he needs Arthur to anchor him to that belief.
Arthur ruffles her hair gently.
"Yeah, Little Sis. I really think so."
Theo blinks. A faint ray of hope flickers in his eyes.
But it dims just as quickly.
He lowers his gaze.
"But I miscalculated," he says, voice rough. "And because of that, Alex had to sacrifice himself. My miscalculation caused it. It was my fault, Arthur."
Arthur inhales slowly and crouches down until they are at eye level.
"I don’t believe that."
He lifts Theo’s chin with two fingers and smiles gently, steady and sure.
"Thea, listen to me. Alex chose it. Did you threaten him? Did you corner him? No. He chose. It was his decision."
Theo’s expression still wavers.
Arthur sighs softly.
"Okay. Let’s reverse the roles. Imagine you were him."
He holds Theo’s gaze.
"If you were in his place, would you make the same decision?"
Theo does not answer immediately.
Silence stretches between them.
Then he closes his eyes.
A single tear slips from each eye and trails down his cheeks.
"I’d do the same thing as Alex."
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Arthur’s heart sinks when he hears Theo’s answer.
He knows it is true. It reveals exactly where his little sister’s heart stands.
But that is what terrifies him.
He is afraid of that truth becoming reality.
Afraid that one day Theo will stand in that exact position and make the same choice without hesitation.
Hearing it spoken aloud feels dangerous. Like a prophecy taking shape.
He opens his mouth to say something.
To argue. To forbid it. To promise he would never allow that to happen.
But from the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of green light.
The next second, a deafening boom echoes through the storm.
The water sphere trembles violently from the impact.
Arthur straightens instantly, every muscle snapping tight. He turns toward the source of the attack.
Another flash.
Another boom.
The sphere shudders again.
Hit after hit slams into it.
Each impact sends ripples through the water shell surrounding them. The surface quivers, distorts, then smooths again.
But that is all.
The attacks cannot even scratch the outer wall.
Arthur glances at Theo.
Theo is already looking outward.
His gaze is calm.
Cold.
Arthur turns his head back toward the attacker.
"What is it?" he demands, squinting through the distortion of water and rain. "Is it the King?"
Another strike.
The sphere shakes again.
Suddenly, the sphere moves.
Not jolting.
Not jerking.
It glides forward slowly, steadily, as if it is strolling through a park rather than advancing into battle.
Water parts before it and folds back behind it.
"Thea?" Arthur asks, looking at Theo.
Theo’s lips curve into a smirk.
"Don’t worry," he says quietly.
"It will not be able to harm any of us. Not anymore."
His teeth grind together at the last words.
Not anymore.
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The attacker is the spider.
But this time, it is different.
A pair of vast, translucent green wings spread from its back, veined with pulsing mist. They beat against the storm, keeping the monstrous body aloft above the raging sea.
It hovers high in the air, surrounded by a thick, dark green fog.
So thick it looks almost solid.
A wall.
The only thing that betrays its true nature is the way it shifts and curls, fluid and alive, constantly reshaping itself around the creature like armor.
The winged spider launches spheres of condensed dark green mist toward the water sphere.
One after another.
They strike with heavy thuds.
It completely ignores the storm.
The waves crash.
Lightning splits the sky.
Rain lashes sideways.
But none of it touches the creature.
The green fog shields it from the extreme weather inside the dungeon, repelling wind and water alike.
Its many eyes blaze a furious red.
Its movements are sharp but uneven, slightly erratic, as if it is forcing itself to remain steady against something far more unnatural than a storm.
Arthur stares at it, stunned.
"It can evolve?" he breathes. "Or does it just change shape? This King is very strong."
"The spider is not the Dungeon King," Theo says calmly from his right.
"Huh?" Arthur turns to him sharply.
"The spider is not the King," Theo repeats, voice level and unhurried.
"Yeah, I heard you," Arthur mutters. "Then where’s the King?"
His eyes return to the flying creature.
He frowns.
"Don’t tell me... it’s the fog?"
Theo nods once.
"Yes."
"And that was what I miscalculated," he adds quietly. "I thought it was the spider."
Arthur exhales heavily.
"We all did, Thea."
He watches the creature for another second, mind racing.
"No wonder it kept healing," he mutters. "The spider is just the King’s physical form."
He looks back at Theo.
"Which means the fog has to go before we can truly kill the spider."
Theo’s lips curl into a slow, dangerous sneer.
"I want to know," he says softly, eyes fixed on the swirling wall of green, "whether that fog can withstand my power."
My Archmage power.
And yours, Alex.
The thought remains unspoken.
Without another word, his body lifts.
Water bends beneath him, forming a gentle current that raises him into the air.
He glides forward, leaving the protection of the sphere.
And steps into the storm alone.







