CHAPTER 11:
An Unwelcome Reunion of Fates
Arata lay down on the bed again, covering his eyes with his arm.
His thoughts were in chaos.
"Was that a dream?"
Or… an illusion?
He suddenly sat up.
"No." His voice turned firm. "If it were an illusion, there's no way I wouldn't have noticed."
With a hint of irritation, he threw the pillow onto the floor.
Then he spread his arms and fell back onto the bed.
"This is exhausting…" he muttered in a low voice.
After a while, he got up and changed his clothes. For some reason, wearing the same clothes as in that "dream" made him feel uncomfortable.
As he bent down to wear his boots, he suddenly froze.
A thought flashed through his mind.
If it was a dream… then what about the scroll?
The one given by Aoba… was that also a dream?
His expression darkened.
Or… everything that happened—
The fake Luka, Loki, and Balder… them coming to my pavilion… the people exploding…
Was all of that just a dream?
"No… that's impossible."
He stood up and began pacing back and forth in his room.
His mind was restless.
He thought about asking the three of them—but immediately dismissed the idea.
It didn't feel right.
"Should I ask the Emperor…?"
He hesitated.
After weighing both options, he chose the latter.
He had no other choice.
He couldn't even begin to investigate this himself—he didn't know where to start.
For the first time in his life, Arata felt reluctant.
And… uneasy.
Someone had slipped past him without a trace.
Someone had even made him hesitate.
His jaw tightened.
Without another thought, he turned and left his pavilion, heading straight for the palace.
He rode alone through the town.
The streets were calm, yet his mind was anything but.
Then—
A carriage came into view.
It was adorned with jade and shining ornaments, moving at an unusually fast speed.
Arata narrowed his eyes.
He immediately recognized it.
That carriage…
It was coming straight toward him.
Arata did not move.
He remained directly in the path of the carriage.
Only a few inches separated him from it.
Then—
The carriage came to an abrupt halt.
The sudden stop drew attention.
People nearby began to gather, whispering among themselves. One glance was enough to tell—one was a man radiating a powerful aura, the other rode in a carriage adorned with priceless jade and gems.
Neither was ordinary.
"Who's the brat that dares block this young master's path?"
A figure stepped out of the carriage.
Draped in luxury, he carried himself with unmistakable arrogance. His robes shimmered with fine embroidery, his crown set perfectly upon his head. His gaze was filled with pride, as if the world itself existed beneath him.
Who else could it be but Lan Fa?
He looked at Arata and smiled—a smile full of mockery.
Arata met his gaze.
He said nothing.
Only stared back.
"What a fate, bringing us together once again," Lan Fa said with a grin.
"Yeah," Arata replied lazily, his tone flat. "What a terrible fate."
Lan Fa's smile stiffened for a moment, but he quickly recovered, placing a hand over his chest dramatically.
"Terrible? Meeting someone as admired as me?" he said proudly. "I am quite popular, you know… especially with this face."
Arata glanced at him indifferently.
"Oh? Aren't you ashamed of praising yourself?" he said coldly. "If it were me, even taking my own life wouldn't be enough."
Lan Fa's expression darkened instantly.
"Watch your tongue…"
His voice turned sharp, his eyes narrowing with anger.
"Shadow freak."
"Lost your temper already, Mr. self-proclaimed beauty?" Arata said calmly, his voice neither loud nor soft, yet it carried clearly through the air.
Lan Fa's expression darkened instantly. The arrogance on his face twisted into irritation, his pride clearly struck.
"You—"
"Alright, alright…"
Before Lan Fa could lash out, a voice interrupted him.
It was calm. Unhurried. Almost lazy.
A figure slowly stepped out from the carriage.
He was dressed in flowing purple robes, the fabric rich and layered, embroidered with faint patterns that shimmered under the sunlight.
Crimson gems were embedded along the edges, glinting faintly with every movement.
His presence was quiet, yet impossible to ignore.
There was a natural sense of authority about him—one that did not need to be declared.
His brownish-red hair was tied neatly behind him, and a finely crafted purple crown rested upon his head. His expression was composed, his gaze steady, as though nothing in this world could truly disturb him.
Who else could it be but Shen Hua Lan?
The moment he appeared, the atmosphere shifted.
The murmurs of the surrounding crowd softened. Even Lan Fa, who had been burning with anger just moments ago, seemed to restrain himself slightly.
Arata watched him in silence.
Then, without a word, he dismounted his horse.
His movements were slow, deliberate.
He stepped forward and folded his arms across his chest, his posture relaxed, yet not careless.
The two stood facing each other.
Their gazes met.
For a brief moment, the world around them seemed to fade into the background.
It was as if an invisible pressure filled the space between them.
Then, Shen Hua Lan spoke.
"Are you here because you missed us?"
His tone was casual, almost teasing, as if he were greeting an old acquaintance.
Arata let out a faint breath, his expression unchanged.
"Don't flatter yourself," he replied flatly. "You're not worth missing."
There was no hesitation in his words.
No emotion.
Just cold indifference.
Lan Fa's lips twitched at the side, clearly displeased. But Shen Hua Lan merely smiled faintly, as if he had expected such an answer.
"Whether you missed us or not… doesn't really matter," Shen Hua Lan said.
He raised his left eyebrow slightly, his gaze sharpening just a little.
"What matters is…"
He paused.
Then continued,
"You're heading to the palace for something… rather important, aren't you?"
The words hung in the air.
For a brief moment, silence followed.
Arata clicked his tongue softly.
"Tsk."
He tilted his head slightly, looking at Shen Hua Lan with faint annoyance.
"What a stalker."
There was no denial in his words.
But there was no confirmation either.
Shen Hua Lan chuckled under his breath, clearly amused.
"What a coincidence," he said lightly. "We're also heading to the palace."
"We are?"
Lan Fa blinked, clearly caught off guard. He turned to look at Shen Hua Lan, confusion written all over his face.
Shen Hua Lan didn't even look at him directly.
He simply gave him a side glance.
"We are."
Lan Fa froze for a second.
Then, almost immediately, his expression changed as if he had just remembered something important.
"Oh—right! We are!" he said quickly, nodding his head.
Then his lips curled into a wide grin.
"Looks like fate wants us to travel together!"
His tone was cheerful, almost excited, as if this were some grand coincidence meant to be celebrated.
Arata remained silent.
He didn't respond.
Didn't react.
His gaze lingered on the two of them for a brief moment before he looked away.
Inside, however—
Indeed…
What a terrible fate.
The thought crossed his mind coldly.
The air grew quiet once more.
Around them, the gathered crowd whispered among themselves, but no one dared to get too close. The tension between the three was subtle, yet heavy enough to make others uneasy.
Shen Hua Lan observed Arata carefully.
Though his expression remained calm, there was a faint glint of curiosity in his eyes.
Something about Arata felt… different today.
There was a trace of distraction in him.
A slight instability beneath that usual cold exterior.
It was faint—so faint that most people wouldn't notice.
But Shen Hua Lan was not "most people."
"Is something troubling you?" he asked casually.
Arata didn't answer immediately.
For a brief moment, the image of the dream flashed through his mind—
Blood.
Exploding bodies.
That suffocating silence.
And the feeling of his own body swelling…
His eyes darkened slightly.
But just as quickly, the emotion disappeared.
"You talk too much," he said coldly.
Shen Hua Lan smiled faintly.
He didn't press further.
Lan Fa, however, clearly had no such restraint.
"Of course he's troubled," Lan Fa said with a thin smile. "Anyone would be, standing before someone like me."
Arata didn't even look at him.
"Your confidence is impressive," he said calmly. "Unfortunately, it's wasted on you."
Lan Fa's face stiffened.
"You really have a death wish, don't you?"
Arata finally glanced at him.
His gaze was calm.
Too calm.
"Try me."
Two simple words.
Yet they carried a chilling weight.
Lan Fa felt his chest tighten slightly.
For a split second, he hesitated.
Then—
"Enough."
Shen Hua Lan's voice cut through the tension.
Not loud.
But firm.
Lan Fa clicked his tongue, clearly unwilling, but he stepped back slightly.
The atmosphere eased, just a little.
"Since we're all heading in the same direction," Shen Hua Lan said, "There's no need to waste time here."
He turned slightly, gesturing toward the carriage.
"Shall we?"
Arata didn't move.
For a moment, it seemed like he might refuse.
But then—
Without a word, he stepped forward.
The three of them began moving toward the palace.
Whether by coincidence…
Or something else entirely.
Above them, the sky remained clear—bright and peaceful, as if nothing was wrong.
And yet, beneath that calm surface, something felt off.
Arata's gaze lifted slightly, his expression unchanged.
…as if he was being watched.