WE HAVE REACHED 100 CHAPTERS!
Thank you, everyone, for reading this far and for all the support.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The quiet between us wasn't awkward.
Not anymore.
It was warm. Healing. Filled with silent promises and soft, hesitant emotions too big for either of us to put into words yet.
So we didn't try.
We just stayed like that—our foreheads touching, Ark's hand still gently gripping my shirt as if he let go, he'd disappear. I didn't mind. I wouldn't mind if he never let go.
'I meant what I said,' I thought, fingers curling protectively against his back. 'I'll be here. Even if it hurts.'
Eventually, his breathing evened out, and his trembling stopped. The tension in his shoulders slowly faded, leaving behind someone calmer, steadier. Still fragile—but no longer breaking.
"Feeling better?" I asked softly.
He gave a little nod, eyes still glistening but clearer now. "Yeah… thank you."
I gave him a reassuring smile and pulled back slightly while gently taking his necklace off and grabbing the blue pendant.
"Let's get this on you properly this time," I said as I put the pendant on the necklace.
Ark nodded as he let go of my shirt and sat up straighter, holding his hair back as I clasped the chain around his neck.
When I let go, he looked down at the pendant and touched it with both hands like it was something precious. Like it meant something.
It did.
We sat there for a minute, holding each other, just being happy to be together.
Eventually, we got up, and we started walking again. The festival hadn't gone anywhere while we sat on that bench, but the world felt a little different now. Softer. Clearer. Quieter, even with the music and chatter around us.
We didn't say much at first. We didn't need to.
Ark lingered close beside me, fingers brushing mine as we looked at different stalls.
He didn't grab my hand outright, but I could feel the thought lingering there, like a question he was too shy to ask.
I didn't push.
I just kept walking beside him, occasionally commenting on little things—an enchanted toy bird that danced when you clapped, or the sweet smell coming from a bakery cart that made Ark's ears twitch.
I made a few jokes here and there about some of the items.
He giggled, and for a moment, the weight on his shoulders lifted completely. His tail swayed once, unconsciously, and I pretended not to notice just to let him stay in that moment.
'He deserves this. He deserves more of this,' I thought.
The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky by the time I nudged Ark and smiled at him. "It's getting late. You want to grab some dinner?"
He blinked up at me. "Y-yeah, sure..." he said hesitantly as his tail wagged faster.
I led him through the streets to a restaurant I'd seen earlier. It wasn't fancy, but it had a warm atmosphere and thick smells of grilled meats and herbs in the air. A few lanterns floated lazily above the outdoor tables, swaying with magic-enhanced flamelight.
We sat near the edge, where we could still hear the festival sounds but weren't surrounded by too much noise. The table was small enough that Ark's knees bumped mine under it.
We both noticed.
Neither of us said anything about it, but we smiled.
The food came quickly—some grilled beast meat with roasted vegetables and a soft, sweet bread on the side. We dug in, and conversation slowly began to trickle out between bites.
Nothing serious at first. I made a joke about Zek's terrifying obsession with spicy food, and Ark told me how Araki had almost walked into a pole while looking at a flying cat plush earlier that day. We laughed. It was easy, almost normal.
But the silence between laughs had weight.
Some things couldn't be forgotten just because you were full and sitting in warm light.
After a pause, I looked across the table and asked quietly, "Can you tell me about your grandfather?"
Ark blinked, his ears twitching slightly. Then, slowly, he smiled.
"He's… kind," he said, voice soft. "He took me in around ten years ago... I think, I don't really remember..."
He sighed and continued, "My father was training me and my siblings how to hunt using our..." he looked around, pointed to his ears, and whispered, "bloodline powers."
I nodded as I understood. It was a lesson in their werewolf powers.
Ark shifted uncomfortably and said, "I have never been good with mine, and he... made sure I knew it," flinching and grabbing onto his shoulder.
I nodded and said, "You don't have to go into the details," as I could guess what that meant.
He nodded and continued, "They left me behind after I failed... probably hoping something would find and eat me... but instead, my grandfather found me, and one thing led to another, and he took me in after that."
He tapped his fingers on the table and said, "My father, he didn't even try anything to say he still wanted me. He just said he was happy to get rid of the wasted space.
So when Grandfather said he'd take me, my father didn't argue. I think he was just happy to get rid of me." He sighed.
His hands tightened slightly, turning his knuckles white.
"I was scared back then. Too scared to do anything except what I was told. And even then, I messed everything up." He looked down, then forced a little laugh. "I was clumsy. I cried a lot. I couldn't… couldn't really think for myself."
'With that kind of treatment, it's not surprising,' I thought, but I didn't say it. I let him speak.
"But Grandfather didn't get mad. He was patient. And I guess, over time, I got better. I started helping out with small things. Then bigger things. He started calling me reliable."
A wistful smile crossed his face.
"I think I'm glad my father and siblings forgot about me. I still saw them sometimes in town, but… every time I did, I'd shake. Even now." He shivered.
I didn't interrupt. Just listened.
"About two years ago, he started teaching me how to fight," Ark continued. "At first, I didn't want to, as the fear and memories made me feel like I would pass out. I... was scared. I thought it'd be like before—like my father. But it wasn't. Grandfather never hit me. He just gave me pointers and let me try things."
He laughed again, a little more genuinely this time.
"I wasn't very good with weapons. I could use a stick like I did with the slimes the other day, but anything more than that... I couldn't land a hit, and I couldn't even get close when sparring with him. He'd block everything or just dodge. But eventually, I realized I felt more comfortable without weapons. Just… using my fists."
I raised an eyebrow. "So you're better with your hands than a weapon?"
He nodded.
I smiled. "Then maybe you should switch classifications. Learn some fist-fighting. You'd make a good Monk... not the priest kind- the fist fighter class."
He blinked, surprised and laughed. "You really think so?"
"Definitely. I'll talk to Orin tomorrow—he might be able to help you get started."
Ark's eyes widened. "J-Jack! You don't have to do all that for me."
I chuckled. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help out?" I leaned over the table so I was close to his face. "Or spoil you just a little?"
His face turned pink, his ears twitching wildly, and he ducked his head. "You're mean."
"Only sometimes."
He smiled again. Embarrassed. But happy.
We kept eating after that, and the conversation drifted back to lighter things. But I could still feel it—the steady thrum of something new taking root between us. A bond forged through pain and laughter and quiet understanding.
'He's growing. He's healing.'
And I was going to be there for every step of it.
No matter what came next.
~~~~~~~
Brakos' POV
The story had taken an interesting turn.
I leaned back into the old chair with a content sigh, the leather creaking slightly beneath me as I turned another page of the tome resting across my lap. The book glowed faintly, a pale azure hue dancing across the surface, illuminating the tale woven into its endless pages.
Jack and Ark… such a peculiar little pair. Young affection, gentle awkwardness, a dinner shared under nervous stares and unspoken truths. It was warm. Delicate.
'That boy is going to shake this world to its core,' I thought with a smile.
*VWOOM*
I paused. My gaze drifted up and to the left, locking onto a corner of the Library where the shelves warped just slightly, ever so faintly, under pressure that should not have been allowed.
I tilted my head in curiosity. "Now, which one is this?"
*Snap.* I snapped my fingers as I stood, the book vanishing in a flutter of paper and light.
My steps were silent against the stone floor, the echo swallowed by the very air itself as I walked. Something, or rather someone, had brushed against the boundary of my dominion.
And I knew exactly who.
As I rounded a shelf of ever-shifting tomes, the aura pulsed once more—gentle and serene, but vast, like moonlight cast across an ocean.
I sighed, waving a hand with lazy precision. The aura cracked and dispersed like mist at dawn. "You know Sol isn't allowed in here anymore, right, Luna? Not after his actions broke the rules."
There was a beat of silence before she revealed herself.
A woman stepped lightly around the edge of a towering shelf, the books giving way to her presence as though they too acknowledged her rank.
She was tall, almost ethereal, her skin as pale as the moonlight she embodied. Her hair, long and flowing to her waist, was colored in halves—three quarters starting from the left pure white like fresh snow, while the remaining quarter on the right was as black as a starless night.
Her eyes gleamed like twin moons, distant and haunting, yet oddly gentle. A long silver dress hugged her form, its design laced with lunar motifs, and on her chest shimmered a pendant with an orb in the center—a waxing gibbous moon glowing dimly within.
"I had to make sure," she said, her voice like chimes echoing through calm twilight. "He is becoming a problem."
I laughed—a short, knowing sound that echoed through the Library with far more weight than her voice. "And yet you came to me. Bold, Luna. I doubt you wandered all this way for idle chat."
Her moonlit gaze dropped to the floor. "I need help."
I arched an eyebrow. "From me? That's new. You've never asked for anything since Sol went rogue and played god."
She sighed, eyes slipping closed. "One of my… disciples. He was injured badly a few months ago, and he's not recovering in the way he should. I need a healer or at least someone who can find out what's wrong... do you know anyone?"
A flick of my fingers, and a book shimmered into existence in my hand. Its cover was inscribed in silver lettering: *Disciples of the Primordial Spirit of the Moon: Luna.*
I held it out to her. "Go on. Which one?"
She hesitated, then took the book and read the cover.
She paused and looked at me and sighed, "Guess I should have expected this from Knowledge."
I tensed up instantly and glared at her.
She got more pale, paler than most would think possible, and said, "Sorry. I didn't mean to say that..."
"Who else knows?" I said threateningly.
She looked at me and said, "Only me and Sol. He found out and told me before his ascension when he tried dragging me along with him."
I sighed in annoyance, regretting that mistake even more.
She diverted her attention in the hope of not angering me even more and started flipping through the book.
Her fingers danced across the pages as she flipped through them. When she stopped, she passed it back without a word.
I looked.
I blinked.
"The Werewolf Primogenitor? I hadn't realized you made them at this point, though I do wonder what could hurt him this badly..." I said, intrigued.
Luna's complexion paled slightly again. "How do you know about the werewolves?"
I met her eyes.
"I'm the one who told you what powers to give them," I said
She looked away immediately, wincing.
"S-sorry. That was more panic and reflex... he is too young and hasn't reached their final Awakening."
I nodded and asked, "Now, why should I help him. It's not like I have any reason to."
She looked me in the eye and said, "Then why did you tell me what powers to give him? Are you telling me that wasn't you ensuring they survived?"
I stared at her and smirked. "There we go. That is the Luna I know. I thought you because a coward after Sol left."
She scowled at me, but I didn't push it.
"How soon can he reach the Kingdom of Rumia?" I asked
She looked up slowly. "A week… but he can hold on for a few months if needed. He can still run fine, but he isn't able to fight at full strength."
"Three months, then," I said, folding my hands behind my back. "Send him to the Second Academy of Rumia. The school tournament will be happening then—no one will look too closely if He shows up."
She nodded, but frowned. "Why there?"
I smiled.
"Because my disciple is there."
Her eyes widened. A flash of fear flickered across her face, though she quickly schooled it.
"Wait, you don't mean—?" she tried to say, but I snapped my fingers before she could finish speaking.
*Snap.*
A rush of wind and light howled through the Library. Luna was swept off her feet and flung backwards, her form vanishing into the distance with a silver shimmer.
I turned and walked back to my chair, summoning the book once more. It reopened exactly where I left off.
'Things are moving faster than I thought.'
Still, that was fine.
It would make the story more exciting.