Ash, who was already prepared to die, he who had accepted defeat for the very first time in his life, was completely stunned by the sudden appearance of a figure next to them.
That fragile hand—so thin and delicate that it almost seemed feminine—had effortlessly caught Dark Ash's descending hands.
And the moment that hand made contact, it was as if time itself had paused, for Dark Ash's hands completely froze in place, no longer moving an inch.
Ash, in his half-dazed state, actually thought the person who appeared was a woman, but that illusion shattered the moment he heard the voice.
It was definitely a man's voice, clear and composed, yet the tone it carried was unlike anything Ash had ever heard before.
It was soft, like a lullaby whispered across a quiet meadow, and yet it carried an undeniable authority that seeped directly into the soul. It was a voice that didn't scream or demand—but simply made you obey, not because it forced you, but because you wanted to listen.
There was something deeply forbidden in the tone, something that felt like it should not exist, and yet here it was—resonating inside Ash's chest. It had a strange and powerful charm within it, one that could enchant anyone who heard it, regardless of whether they were a man or a woman.
"Who knew it was me all along..."
Ash didn't understand what the man meant by those words, not at that moment, but he instinctively knew one thing—the unknown figure had saved him. That fact alone was more than enough.
This mysterious man wore a deep white robe that completely covered his body, reaching all the way down to the ground.
The robe looked heavy, but the way it moved made it seem light, like drifting feathers. Because his hand was still holding Dark Ash's, Ash was able to clearly see how fragile that hand was up close.
However, it wasn't the kind of fragile that looked sick or weak—it was fragile in a beautiful and noble sense. Like the hand of someone who had never been stained by the dirt of the world.
His face was mostly hidden in the shadow of his white hood, but the robe he wore was decorated with elegant golden and black lines, forming graceful patterns that ran across the surface like veins of divinity.
His face was covered by a white mask, a smooth and expressionless one, revealing no emotion. But what truly caught Ash's attention—what stole his breath for a second—were the man's eyes.
Just like Solareth, they were filled with flowing liquid rainbows, swirling and shining with surreal beauty. However, they were completely different from Solareth's.
Instead of calm harmony, these eyes looked like a mirror that had been shattered into countless pieces, each shard filled with different, clashing energies.
And yet, somehow, when seen together, those chaotic pieces formed something too beautiful for words—like witnessing a cosmic symphony written in light.
Ash had no way of knowing the truth at that moment…
That the mask wasn't meant to hide the man's face.
It was worn to protect others from looking directly into those eyes—
Because if anyone stared into them for too long, they might never return to who they were before.
"Who are you?" Dark Ash spat out with sharp hostility, his tone brimming with irritation and suspicion as a reddish energy slowly began to surround him, burning and churning around his body like a rising storm.
SECOND FORM: Art of Burning Rage.
The moment his form activated, the air itself began to tremble. The heat he released crackled like fire in dry wood.
He tried to wrench his hands free, muscles tightening with effort—but it was useless.
No matter how much strength he poured in, those fragile hands holding his felt impossibly heavy… as if they carried the weight of the entire world within them.
"I am --- -- -- - -- "
The mysterious man finally spoke, but just after uttering a few words, his voice began to distort.
It changed abruptly, turning into a warped static, like a broken radio that lost its signal mid-broadcast. His words became impossible to make out.
And then, right before both Ash and Dark Ash, the man's body started to blur unnaturally.
His form began to flicker and glitch, as though reality itself was struggling to keep him intact—as if his very presence here was somehow against the rules of this world.
What's going on…? What even is he…?
Ash's thoughts raced, alarmed by the surreal scene unfolding before him.
But just as suddenly as the glitch had appeared, it faded away completely. Reality stabilized.
The distortion cleared.
And in that tiny window of opportunity, Dark Ash managed to break free. Without hesitation, he jumped back and widened the distance between them, wary and alert.
"I see… so that's how it is," the mysterious man said slowly, his tone calm but layered with an emotion Ash couldn't quite name.
"Well, anyway," he continued, his voice now smooth again, almost nonchalant, as if what had just happened didn't matter at all.
Dark Ash narrowed his eyes, an ominous thought flashing through his mind.
I need to kill him—quickly… I don't know why, but something about him… feels too dangerous to ignore.
DIVINE ART OF ETERNAL SILENCE
FIFTH FORM: Art of Suffocating Fear
Dark Ash disappeared from where he stood. His speed surpassed even Omni thought's vision, becoming a blur as he reappeared beside the mysterious man.
With deadly precision, he launched a powerful kick aimed straight at the man's face.
But then, something caught his eye.
Behind the white mask, beneath the deep shadows of the hood, those strange glowing eyes were calmly watching him. They followed his movements with eerie precision, like a predator observing its prey with calculated curiosity.
And just when the kick was about to land—
Dark Ash froze.
His entire body stopped in mid-air, suspended unnaturally, as if the very space around him had turned against him and locked him in place.
"---- -- Ru---- ---"
"---- -- - - --- -- -- - -"
"- - - -- - try --- -- change----"
The man's voice returned, but once again, it was fragmented.
The sentences were chopped and blurred, as if something—no, someone—was deliberately scrambling his voice.
It wasn't just interference. It felt like a higher force, an intentional obstruction, was keeping his words from being understood by Ash or Dark Ash. As if something powerful didn't want them to hear what he truly wanted to say.
"Should I kill him?"
The mysterious man muttered, his voice oddly casual, almost thoughtful. But the question sent a chill down Ash's spine.
It wasn't clear who he meant.
His glowing eyes shifted between Ash and Dark Ash, calmly scanning them both, as if weighing two pieces of a puzzle to decide which one he should erase.
And then—
His body began glitching again, but this time it was more intense.
The distortions were faster, more violent, and it looked as though reality itself was actively trying to push him out.
Dark Ash, sensing an opportunity, didn't hesitate. He forced his body free from the invisible grip and retreated swiftly. This time, however, he didn't charge in recklessly.
Instead… he simply stood still, watching from a safe distance, his expression hard and wary.
He wasn't sure what that man was.
But he knew one thing for certain—That being was far beyond what he could deal with.
"I don't have much time…" the mysterious man said, his voice low and measured, almost carrying the weight of some unseen deadline pressing against the edges of his existence.
Then with a slow, deliberate movement, he turned to face Ash directly,
His eyes filled with a mixture of disdain and impatience as he looked at Ash in the eyes and spoke once more, "Pathetic, you are far too weak for what lies ahead… Tsk."
He clicked his tongue, as if he was observing a disappointment so predictable that it no longer surprised him.
Hearing that, Ash felt something strange—an unfamiliar shame washing over him, like the sting of a first scolding from his parents.
It wasn't anger or embarrassment, just a quiet ache deep inside.
But then, before he could dwell on that feeling any longer, the man's next words cut through the air like a sharp blade, his body tensed and his mind screamed for him to run, to escape immediately,
"Now that you have destroyed your magic circle, if you truly wish to rank up, you will need to rely on something different, something more enduring. Use the runes, bind them directly to your body, make the runes themselves your anchors, and that path will lead you forward in the way you need to go."
Those words struck Ash with a strange mixture of fear and awe, as if his very soul were being peeled back layer by layer for this stranger to see, exposed and vulnerable.
It was as though this man could see through all of Ash's defenses and hesitation, straight to the core of his being.
"Do not waste your thoughts on things that do not matter," the man continued, his voice cold and steady now,
"I can already see the runes clearly, floating there next to the tree, just as they should be. After all— -- -- - -- - - soul - -- -- -- -- -- ."
His voice cracked and glitched again, breaking into static and fragments as if some invisible force fought to silence his words, as if the universe itself was trying to block the truth from reaching Ash's ears.
Yet, even with the gaps and the noise, Ash understood enough to know that the stranger was right—the runes were indeed there, floating in his soul space.
"But how do I connect the runes? How do I anchor them properly?" Ash asked, the question spilling out before he could stop it.
He did not know why he asked, as his mind echoed warnings to stay away, to distrust this stranger who had invaded his soul, but his heart whispered a different truth—that if this man wanted to take the runes from him, he could have done so easily, but he had chosen not to, instead offering guidance to help Ash grow stronger.
A single thought blossomed in Ash's chest, fragile and almost unbelievable, yet it held a weight he could not ignore—
The one who transmigrated me, he might also be the one who transmigrated Elysia as well…
Though those thoughts were surely audible to the mysterious man, but he remained silent and simply explained further about the runes to Ash.
"That black trunk you see—that is the true manifestation of your soul's form, the core essence of who you are, and the runes that surround it are drawn to this essence," he said, gesturing toward the vibrant tree pulsing within Ash's inner vision.
"But do not let them simply float aimlessly; instead, force one rune to merge with the tree itself, and that will allow you to access every meaning and power that rune holds. If you want to reach the Apprentice Rank, you will need to fuse at least two runes with the soul core."
As those words settled into Ash's mind, a strange clarity washed over him, as if all the noise and confusion melted away and he was left with a profound understanding, a sudden grasp of deep cosmic secrets that felt ancient and undeniable, like truths whispered by the universe itself.
Before Ash could say anything, Dark Ash's voice cut through the moment, fierce and loud.
"DO I LOOK LIKE A SIDE CHARACTER HERE?!"
***