Seraphina walked beside him, her steps light against the ground, but her mind was anything but still.
It wasn't obvious, even to her.
No—it wasn't a lie. Not fully. It was something blurred, something between truth and deception, woven together so seamlessly that most people wouldn't have noticed at all.
But Seraphina wasn't most people.
So she picked it apart.
Arthur had said four things.
1. A qilin can read fate. Which was also a well accepted and document fact about qilins.
2. Arthur bonded with a qilin.
3. Lucent Harmony was the beast will of that qilin.
4. Because of that, Arthur knew about this dungeon.
The first? True. Well-documented. Accepted fact. A qilin was one of the few creatures in existence that could perceive fate itself.
If Arthur really had bonded with a qilin, it would explain how he unlocked Lucent Harmony so late.
Gifts usually awakened before someone reached Yellow-rank. Arthur had already been at Silver-rank when his manifested. That wasn't normal.
Then again—bonding with a mythical beast wasn't normal either.
The Viserions were the only ones known to have done it. They had built their entire empire around the fact that they had bonded with Tiamat, a Radiant Dragon, granting them draconic traits and unmatched power as a result.
'There's no other way he could know.'
The Northern Sea Ice Palace had been sealed off from the world for over a decade. Her father's orders had been absolute. No one was allowed to set foot here. Not even the most powerful people in the world unless they wanted to antagonise Mo Zenith.
Only exceptions were Seraphina and Mo himself, and whoever they wished to bring with them.
And yet, Arthur knew.
Not just that something was here—he knew exactly what.
There had been no monitoring on the island itself—only on the Frostveil Sea surrounding it. Meaning, the only way Arthur could have found out was if someone had broken her father's decree, come to this island, discovered the dungeon, and spread the information.
Arthur's explanation made sense.
If he had bonded with a qilin, and that qilin had seen this in the threads of fate, then, yes—he could know about the dungeon.
This was a suitable explanation for how Arthur knew about the iceflies as well.
Why did I feel like he was lying?
Seraphina frowned slightly, barely perceptible, her mind whirring like a finely tuned machine.
That was hard to believe.
She had spent years honing this skill—reading people, understanding them, seeing the tiny shifts in their expressions, their words, their silences.
And it was easier to be fooled the other way—to believe someone was telling the truth when they were lying.
Arthur's words had been too careful, too smooth—like someone who had practiced telling just enough truth to be believable.
1. Arthur had somehow learned about this dungeon another way, and was using the qilin as a cover.
2. Arthur was telling the truth, but there was something more he couldn't—or wouldn't—say.
Seraphina glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
He looked completely at ease, walking ahead, hands in his pockets, eyes focused on the path forward.
Like a man with no secrets at all.
'But I know better than that.'
"How did you meet the qilin?" Seraphina asked.
Arthur didn't hesitate. "I went to the Isle of Azure Breeze with Rachel during the fall break," he said. "During the fight against the five-star Storm Serpent that evolved into six-star Abyssal Tide Serpent, I was lucky enough to meet Luna. She found me interesting and chose me."
Seraphina watched him carefully.
'Lie mixed with truth.'
The kind of lie that was too carefully measured—just enough reality to be convincing, just enough fiction to conceal whatever he didn't want to say.
She tested the waters. "Does that mean you're the one destined to be the Emperor of the World?"
Qilins only chose individuals with the fate to rule. They didn't make mistakes. They didn't hedge their bets. If Luna had chosen Arthur, it meant she had seen something in him.
She could believe it.
At White-rank, he had created a Lich. He wielded both White Star and Black Star, even if they came from Lucent Harmony. His swordsmanship was better than even Lucifer's, and his ability to read people, to plan ahead, to manipulate a battlefield like a chessboard?
Arthur was more than capable of rising to the top.
He tilted his head, considering her words. Then, finally, he said:
"Perhaps." His voice was light, casual, unreadable. "Luna didn't specify."
Seraphina's expression remained calm, but internally—
Unlike his previous answer, which had been a mix of truth and falsehood, this one was completely fabricated.
Arthur knew exactly what his fate was.
And if he was destined to become the Emperor of the World, he would have just said so. He didn't like lying to her—he had made that clear. If the truth was something as simple as him being chosen for greatness, he wouldn't be dodging the question.
Which meant his fate was something else entirely.
Something he didn't want to tell her.
Seraphina's mind churned, piecing it together.
Arthur was intelligent—brilliant, even. He knew he couldn't lie convincingly in front of her. He had to know she'd see through it.
Why lie in a way that he knew she would catch?
And then, suddenly, it clicked.
'He wants me to doubt him.'
Arthur wasn't just concealing information. He was guiding her toward a conclusion—one he couldn't say outright, but wanted her to understand. He wanted Seraphina to understand him without him telling her directly.
'What are you hiding, Arthur?'
His expression was unreadable, his posture relaxed, his hands still in his pockets as he walked beside her like they were strolling through a city and not stepping deeper into a six-star dungeon.
So, for now, she said nothing.
She would figure it out.
"We're here," Arthur said, stopping in front of a massive stone door—its surface covered in intricate carvings of ice and swirling patterns of mana, long since dulled by time.
Seraphina halted beside him, eyes scanning the door, her breath curling in the cold air.
"What's inside?" she asked.
There had been no beasts guarding this place, no signs of a battle waiting for them. That was… unusual.
Arthur exhaled. "Luna told me it's a trial."
Seraphina's brows furrowed slightly.
Not all dungeons were just lairs filled with mana beasts. Some—particularly those older, deeper, and more anomalous—contained spell array trials instead.
And trials were always more dangerous.
They weren't about fighting and winning. They were about enduring. And usually, they were mentally taxing rather than physical taxing.
"The existence of a trial means fewer beasts, which explains the fact that we only met a dozen four-star beasts before reaching here," Seraphina noted.
"Do you know the nature of the trial?" she asked.
His gaze flickered toward the door. "A difficult mental trial," he said. "It plays on your past. Makes you relive it."
Seraphina didn't flinch, but there was a quiet shift in her expression, something small, something almost imperceptible.
But it was recognition.
A test of memory. Of past pain and trauma.
A trial wasn't just about facing enemies—it was about facing yourself and trying not to drown in your own past.
She breathed in slowly, then exhaled, steadying herself, bringing her mind into sharp, controlled focus.
Even though she was disciplined, even though she had honed her emotions to precision, there were still fault lines in her psyche. After all, she was still a teenage girl.
Weak points a trial would target without mercy.
If she wasn't careful—if she wasn't in complete control—it could break her.
She wouldn't allow that.
"Ready?" Arthur asked, his voice even.
Seraphina's eyes met his. His presence steadied her and calmed her nerves.
The door rumbled, its carved surface shifting, the ancient magic within it stirring as it began to open.
And the past swallowed them whole.