The words hit Mizan like a hammer. 'A friend? Just what kind of person is Ark to have an absolute existence like the one he's describing as a friend?'
"Until that accursed day," Ark muttered, lifting his left hand to reveal a ring on his thumb. Tiny purple shimmers were visibly rotating inside its translucent shank—the Mystical Ring.
"One day, she sent me a messenger," Ark said quietly. "The messenger carried a small box. Inside was this ring." He caressed it slowly, as though seeing it for the first time all over again. "I thought it was a storage ring. I thought whatever she wanted to send me was inside."
He paused, his face darkening with the weight of the memory. "So I put it on."
The air around him seemed to grow colder.
"The moment I tried to inspect it, something invaded my consciousness. I lost control of my energy. My memories were torn apart, scattered like fragments of a broken mirror. The pain… it was as if my head was about to explode."
He exhaled slowly. "And then a space rift opened."
Mizan felt a shiver run down his spine.
"I was pulled through the rift," Ark continued. "Sucked into the void. I lost consciousness. I don't know how long I drifted—or how far I traveled. But when I opened my eyes again… I was in a completely different place."
His gaze lifted to the night sky, as though seeking something beyond the stars.
"The ring went dormant after that. It wouldn't react, no matter what I did. And I had no way back home."
Mizan was trembling, as realization struck him. When Ark said he had found himself in another place… did he mean here? In the Brightmoon Empire? Mizan's mind raced. 'That would explain why Ark seemed so unfamiliar with the world around him.'
The more Mizan learned about Ark, the more mysterious he became. And yet Mizan couldn't shake the feeling that Ark had only revealed the surface of a much deeper truth.
Ark went silent for a moment in the hot spring bath, his gaze distant as his thoughts wandered to a memory buried deep in the past.
***
At that time, he had also been in a hot spring, but the setting had been far more magnificent. The bath had stretched wide and grand, surrounded by towering cherry blossom trees of every hue—white, pink, and even blue. Their petals danced in a cool breeze, gently falling into the steaming water. Though it had been night, the place was awash with light. Lanterns floated in the air and hung from the cherry blossoms, their glow casting mesmerizing reflections across the water's surface.
But the lanterns alone did not illuminate the scene. The tree trunks had shone with a soft yellow-orange light, as if made of translucent crystals instead of wood. Even the falling petals glowed faintly, making the night feel like a dream.
In the bath, a young man appeared to be no older than thirty sat in the bath, his broad arms draped over the edge of the pool. His lean, well-defined muscles and healthy, pale skin were illuminated by the soft light, accentuating his masculine features. With shoulder-length dark hair, striking bright green eyes, and a clear jawline, he exuded an effortless charm as he savored the warmth of the bath while gazing at the expansive night sky. Above him, stars twinkled brilliantly alongside what appeared to be at least seven moons—each varying in size and phase, and each reflecting a different hue: emerald, soft purple, pinkish-white. They were scattered like celestial ornaments.
"Ark~"
The sweet voice startled him, pulling his attention from the sky. He turned his head, his brows rising slightly in surprise.
Standing before him was a vision of ethereal beauty.
"To whom do I owe the pleasure of having THE Lady Mystic herself pay me a visit?" he asked, his deep voice both curious and amused.
The woman standing at the pool's edge appeared to be in her mid-twenties, though her presence suggested an agelessness beyond mere years. Her long hair cascaded in a silken waterfall, dark at the roots but transitioning into shades of deep purple midway down, until the ends sparkled like stardust. Each step she took seemed to shift the color of her eyes beneath the lanterns' light—sometimes bluish-purple, sometimes a deep violet. They were otherworldly, much like the woman herself.
Lady Mystic's entire being seemed to radiate an ethereal glow. She wore nothing but a white towel, its soft fabric barely concealing her graceful figure. Her long, delicate thighs were exposed, their pale skin nearly blending with the whiteness of the towel.
"May I join you?" she asked as she sank into the pool.
Ark raised a brow, his lips curving into a faint scoff. "Are you even asking for my permission at this point?"
"Hehe~" She giggled softly as she settled into the hot spring, her hair spreading across the water's surface like a shimmering veil. For a fleeting moment, the reflections in the ripples seemed to mirror the cosmos itself.
Ark leaned back, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Mist, I don't recall us ever being that close to bathe together. Or were you always this shameless? Old thing."
Mist froze in surprise, her violet eyes widening. A moment later, she splashed him with a burst of water, her pout making her seem almost childish. "How dare you call me an old thing! Rude! Were you always this rude?"
Ark slicked his wet hair back, laughing heartily. "If you can't be called old, I'm afraid no one in this world qualifies for the title. And I'm not usually this rude—I'm much ruder, actually." His grin widened as he spoke.
Mist huffed in mock irritation. "You say that as if you're still young. Aren't you a more-than-thousand-year-old monster yourself? Tsk." She clicked her tongue.
Ark chuckled. "No matter how old I am, I'm still an infant compared to you."
Mist's eyes sparkled as a knowing smile played on her lips.
Ark watched her for a moment before shaking his head. "I'll never understand the logic of women. Why does age bother you so much? Especially women like you and Lady Evergreen. You've both reached a level that defies mortality, yet you're still worried about age? Why didn't you just decide to die young if it bothers you so much?"
Mist clicked her tongue again, her smug expression returning. "Tsk, tsk. You don't understand a lady's heart, that's why you're still lonely."
Ark raised a brow. "And who says I'm lonely?"
Mist's smirk deepened. "Then how come the mighty and charismatic Lord of the Elements—Arcaya himself—is spending New Year's Eve alone? Shouldn't you be throwing some grand party, gathering admirers to your left and right, and indulging like that insufferable bastard Arzan'tharos?"
Ark chuckled softly. He tilted his head upward, his cold gaze settling on the stars above. Droplets of water slid from his damp hair, glistening under the moonlight. "A New Year's Eve for some is just another day for others," he said softly, his tone calm and distant.
Then he turned to Mist, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "But is that why you're here? To entertain and indulge this lord?" He chuckled.
Mist scoffed, leaning in slightly. Her gaze was both charming and daring. "Hah! You dare?"
At that time, even Ark couldn't explain why he had no lustful thoughts toward her. She was undeniably beautiful—gorgeous beyond mortal comprehension. She sat close to him, the steamy water barely concealing her graceful figure. The delicate curve of her white shoulders and the tantalizing glimpse of her ample chest could have ignited a blazing fire in any man's heart.
Yet, Ark felt nothing of the sort. Being with her was fun, even comforting. But when he asked himself why there was no desire stirring within him, he found no clear answer. It was as if the very thought of crossing that line was absurd, an invisible barrier that refused to be breached.
If Ark didn't know her so well, he might have suspected that she was using some form of mental manipulation to suppress his thoughts. But deep down, he knew it wasn't that. It was something else entirely.