Luvania stood silently for a moment, her mind swirling with confusion and disbelief. Everything about this situation was unsettling. Arfrotian, a man so powerful that he could break free from the prison that had bound him, came from an unknown place, and his calm, indifferent demeanor only intensified her uncertainty. What troubled her even more was that her allure, her beauty, her body—everything that she had relied upon to captivate and control others—had no effect on him. He had rejected her with an unyielding firmness that left her questioning what kind of man he truly was. She had never encountered anyone like him before.
But now, to make matters worse, he had gone so far as to ask for the highest punishment her race could administer—the Black Ice Curse. The very notion of it, of someone willingly asking for it, sent a chill down her spine. Did he think this was some kind of game? Was he simply doing whatever he wanted, regardless of the consequences? Luvania's confusion deepened. This was not a man who behaved like anyone else she had encountered. Was he truly playing games with her, or did he have some other purpose in mind?
For a moment, she stood there, her thoughts racing, trying to process everything that had just transpired. But the answer, as always, was clear. She would not entertain his request for the highest punishment. No matter how calm and composed he seemed, no matter how much he dared to challenge her, she was not going to offer him such a punishment. She wasn't about to indulge him.
"No," Luvania stated firmly, her voice carrying the authority of a queen. "I won't give you the highest punishment. I won't give you any punishment at all."
The words felt strange on her lips. She was used to being the one who dealt out justice, the one who controlled the fate of others. But here, in front of her, was a man who didn't even seem to care about the usual consequences that would come with defying her. It was unsettling in ways she couldn't fully articulate.
"I came here to set you free from the prison," she continued, her tone steady, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "We had mistaken you for a spy, an enemy agent from the angels' race. After all, our shadow elves are currently in conflict with the angels from the neighboring megaverse within this icy omniverse. We thought you might have come here with ill intentions."
She paused, waiting for him to respond, but Arfrotian simply listened, his eyes never leaving hers. The way he looked at her—composed, almost knowing—reminded her again just how different he was. There was no fear, no anxiety, only a calm understanding that unsettled her in a way she couldn't quite place.
Luvania continued, a trace of hesitation now creeping into her voice as she clarified, "But upon closer examination, I realized you couldn't possibly be from the angels' race. You are something entirely different, something unique. That's when we realized our mistake, and I, as the queen, have come to release you. We apologize for any trouble caused."
It was then that Luvania did something she had never done before—something that felt almost foreign to her. She bowed to Arfrotian, her long, silver hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall, her deep blue eyes closing for just a moment in a gesture of humility and respect. It was a sign of genuine apology, something she had rarely extended to anyone, let alone someone who had been imprisoned in her domain.
Arfrotian remained still as she bowed, his expression unchanged. His cool demeanor didn't waver, and yet, despite everything, Luvania couldn't help but feel that there was something sincere about his presence. He didn't show arrogance, nor did he boast about his power. Instead, he responded in a manner that was disarming in its simplicity.
"You have no need to apologize to me," Arfrotian replied, his voice calm and composed. "I am the one who trespassed into your domain without asking for permission. You and your people acted out of self-defense, and I accept that. It was my fault, not yours."
Luvania froze, caught off guard by the humility in his words. She had expected something more—perhaps defiance, perhaps even anger—but instead, Arfrotian's response was respectful and disarming. He wasn't angry with her. He wasn't resentful about being captured or imprisoned. Instead, he saw it as his own fault, and in doing so, he turned the situation around completely. His words made her feel a strange mixture of relief and surprise.
A slight shock ran through Luvania as she stood back up. It was rare, almost unheard of, for someone to take responsibility so fully without hesitation, especially someone of Arfrotian's power. And yet, here he was, acknowledging his own trespass in such an unassuming way. It made her question him even more.
"Even so," Luvania said, shaking her head, "we can't leave you in this prison. You're free now. The chains binding you were a mistake on our part. You weren't meant to be imprisoned."
As she spoke, Luvania stepped forward, her hands extending toward the black ice chains that bound Arfrotian's legs to the prison floor. She had been the one to place those chains in the first place, and now she would be the one to remove them. They were a symbol of the misunderstanding that had led to his capture.
With a deliberate movement, Luvania raised her hands, and the black ice that had been entangling Arfrotian's legs began to melt, dissolving into nothingness as she released him. The moment the chains fell away, Arfrotian stood up, his posture straight and imposing, his presence even more undeniable now that he was free.
But as Arfrotian stood there, seemingly unfazed by the release, he turned his gaze back to Luvania, his voice low but curious. "But why? Why are your people fighting the angels in the first place? What's the cause of this conflict? And when I entered this omniverse, I didn't sense any signs of life. I assumed I had entered a barren place, but now you mention angels in the neighboring megaverse. What's going on between your races?"
Luvania blinked in surprise at the sudden shift in the conversation. Arfrotian wasn't simply accepting his release and leaving it at that. Instead, he was asking questions—questions that only someone with a deep understanding of conflict and power would ask. It was a sign that he wasn't just a passive observer, that he wasn't just some man who came to this omniverse for no reason at all. He was analyzing the situation, seeking understanding.
Her mind began to clear, and with a deep breath, Luvania spoke, her voice taking on a more serious tone as she answered his questions. "The conflict between us and the angels is... complicated. It began when they attempted to expand their influence into our megaverse, trying to impose their beliefs on our people. The angels view themselves as agents of order, and they wanted to spread their doctrines here. But we—my people, the shadow elves—believe in freedom, in independence. We cannot allow their influence to take root. Their presence is anathema to everything we stand for."
She paused, gathering her thoughts as she continued. "As for why you didn't sense any life when you first entered, it's because this part of the omniverse is largely barren. There are no settlements or cities here. Our people live in the shadows, in places where the light can't touch us. The angels, on the other hand, live in the neighboring megaverse, a place filled with light and purity. It's where their strongholds are. And now, we're in the midst of a war with them."
Luvania's eyes met Arfrotian's, searching his face for any sign of judgment or sympathy, but found none. Instead, his gaze was thoughtful, as though he was absorbing every detail she had provided.
"Our conflict is ongoing," Luvania finished, her voice steady. "And it will not end until one side is victorious."
Arfrotian nodded slightly, his expression unchanged. "I see."
With that, the air between them felt charged, the weight of the conversation heavy in the silence that followed. Luvania had just shared the core of her people's struggle, and for the first time, it seemed as though Arfrotian was truly listening—understanding, perhaps even assessing.