The Invincible Young Master

"Holy Scion…" Zarak repeated, the name feeling almost foreign on his tongue as he tried to grasp what kind of person could carry such a title.

He had never heard of anyone called that before. And the idea that someone could be even stronger than the emperor? It defied everything he thought he knew about power in this world.

"Is he really that strong?" he asked, his curiosity evident.

The princess gave a slow nod. "Yes. Holy scion is more than just strong. He is the protector of our empire. As for how powerful…"

She paused, a look of respect passing over her face. "Even my father, the Emperor, can't truly measure his strength. He only knows that the Holy Scion's power goes beyond his own, a strength that no one has fully understood."

Zarak's brows furrowed as he took this in. If this Scion ranked even above an emperor, his power must be beyond anything Zarak had seen in the mortal world.

He thought about the emperor's level of power, likely comparable to the grand elders of his own Holy Land, a level that was nearly unmatched.

And if as his assumption that the emperor held such power, the Holy Scion would have to rival Zarak's master, the Holy Lord himself.

But the thought of another figure of such might existing in the mortal world seemed almost impossible. His master had never mentioned anyone of that magnitude dwelling here.

For a long moment, Zarak was quiet, his mind spinning with questions that had no clear answers.

The idea of someone on par with, or even stronger than, his master was both awe-inspiring and slightly unsettling. But, then again, he reminded himself, these were only his assumptions.

He would not know the truth until he stood face-to-face with this Holy Scion himself.

The old man, noticing Zarak's pensive look, let out a chuckle. "What's wrong, lad? Getting nervous?"

Zarak shook his head, a small smile forming.

"No, just… curious." He looked toward the princess, a gleam of interest in his eyes. "Where can I meet the Holy Scion?"

The princess raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You want to meet him?"

Zarak nodded. "Yes."

Her gaze softened, though a trace of amusement glinted in her eyes. "Meeting him isn't easy, even for me. I've only encountered him a few times myself."

"Does he live in seclusion, then?" Zarak asked thoughtfully. For someone with such power, he imagined the Holy Scion might spend his days in deep meditation, focusing on strength, much like his own master in the Holy Land.

At this, the princess let out a soft, almost amused laugh.

"Seclusion? No, that's not his style. He does not stay hidden away. It's just… he is rarely in the capital, because he prefers to wander. Even my father emperor can't keep him here."

Zarak tilted his head, intrigued. "Couldn't you summon him with an imperial decree?"

The princess gave a dry laugh.

"A decree?" she repeated. "He doesn't care for decrees. If he did, we'd probably see him far more often."

Zarak narrowed his gaze, intrigued. "So he's truly untethered, living as he pleases."

The princess's eyes held a spark behind her veil. "Precisely."

For a moment, silence hung between them, then Zarak hesitated before asking, "But… doesn't such freedom make him a possible threat? What's to keep him from deciding to claim the empire for himself one day?"

The princess looked at him, her expression unreadable. She seemed to weigh his words before she responded, her tone soft.

"It's a fair question," she said. "But that's not something I worry about. He seems to walk a path that few understand. I don't think he's interested in ruling."

Zarak raised an eyebrow. "Why are you so certain he'll stay uninterested? Anyone's ambitions can change in a moment, especially when they're that powerful."

The princess nodded thoughtfully. "True, but he's… different. His way of thinking is hard to explain, even harder to understand."

She paused, eyes distant, as if recalling a memory. "Once, I asked him something similar. I said, 'You're incredibly powerful; why not conquer the other empires, rule over the world?'"

She leaned back, a faint, amused smile appearing on her lips as she remembered his response. "'That's boring,'" he'd replied.

The simple answer had left her speechless, too stunned to even question him further.

Over the following days, the simplicity of his response lingered with her, unsettling and baffling her in equal measure.

Conquest, and domination were ambitions pursued by countless others, those who sought the ultimate power, driven to bring everything under their rule.

And yet, he'd dismissed it in one word, as though ruling the world held no meaning for him.

In quieter moments, she had replayed his words in her mind, trying to grasp the depth of his disinterest.

Perhaps he saw things from a perspective beyond ordinary reach, where what others sought as ultimate triumph looked trivial, even dull.

For someone of his strength, maybe conquest was simply another experience, a fleeting amusement he would long since outgrown.

Or perhaps, for the Scion, power was merely a tool, not an end. But despite all her musings, the answer remained elusive.

Zarak listened, feeling the same tug of curiosity. He sensed that there was more to the Scion's disinterest than even the princess realized.

The bluntness of the Scion's answer intrigued him, yet he couldn't quite fathom it. For someone like him, who aimed to grow stronger, the idea of setting aside the chance to rule was strange.

A small glint sparked in Zarak's eye.

"Now I really want to meet him," he said quietly.

The old man chuckled softly.

"No need to hurry, lad," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "Your paths will cross, I'm sure of it."

Zarak raised an eyebrow, skepticism flickering in his gaze. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

The old man's smile deepened as he spoke. "I've already changed your fate."

Zarak blinked, the words stirring something inside him, a strange feeling he couldn't quite place. "Changed my fate?"

The old man's eyes met his, steady and knowing, yet somehow distant. "With this choice, you're already on a different path. The karma I once tied to your master… it'll fade away."

"A different path?" Zarak echoed, his mind struggling to make sense of the cryptic words.

The old man smiled softly, as if he knew that Zarak wouldn't fully understand just yet. "You'll understand when the time comes."

The princess, who had been listening quietly until now, raised an elegant brow, her interest piqued.

"Fate? Karma?" she repeated, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Aren't you a little old to still believe in such things?"

The old man turned his gaze toward her, an amused glint dancing in his eyes.

"Some beliefs are as old as the stars, Princess," he replied with a knowing smile. "And sometimes, those very beliefs hold truths that even the strongest powers cannot break."

The princess's eyes narrowed, and her curiosity stirred.

"Isn't the very act of walking the path of ascendants already a challenge to fate?" she asked, her voice clear and firm. "We rise above our limitations, shedding the constraints of birth, talent, and fate itself to reach heights no one thought possible."

Zarak fell silent, contemplating her words. She had touched upon something that he knew to be true; the journey of ascension wasn't just about growing stronger, it was about defying the expectations placed upon them.

It was about breaking free from the limitations of their origins and carving a path that went beyond the boundaries of what was thought achievable.

But as much as he understood that truth, he also knew the harsh reality of their journey. The path of ascension was a brutal one, and countless had fallen along the way. Only a rare few managed to reach the peaks of their potential, leaving behind a trail of those who couldn't keep up.

The old man chuckled softly, a knowing warmth in his voice.

"No," he said, his eyes twinkling with wisdom. "You walk that path because it's your fate. Even the strongest of us are bound to it, whether we see it or not. Fate has a way of pulling us along. Some of us fight it, some yield to it, but none can truly escape."

The princess crossed her arms, a sharp gleam in her eye.

"But you just said you changed his fate," she pointed out, nodding toward Zarak. "Isn't that a contradiction?"

The old man paused, his usual confidence wavering for a brief moment. He gave a wry smile, as if reluctant to explain something he wasn't fully ready to. "Well, his case… it's different."

The princess tilted her head, considering the old man's words with a quiet intensity. "So, in your view, everything; every choice, every step, is controlled by fate?"

The old man nodded slowly, his expression calm, but filled with the weight of his certainty. "Yes. Nothing escapes it. If fate wills it, destruction will come. Empires will fall, and even the strongest among us will not be spared."

"Even the Holy Scion?" she asked, her voice soft but heavy with meaning.

The old man's face fell into a deep silence. His eyes seemed to grow distant, as if he were sifting through memories or searching for the right words in the depths of his mind.

Finally, after a long pause, he spoke with quiet gravity, "Even him."

The princess seemed taken aback, her thoughts momentarily lost in the weight of the old man's words. She turned her gaze downward, as if trying to process the enormity of what had just been revealed. Then, in a whisper, she murmured,

"But then… what's the point of rising, of becoming an ascendant? If fate binds even the strongest?"

The old man's expression softened, and for a fleeting moment.

"We rise because we are meant to," the old man said gently. "For each of us, the journey itself is the part fate has already determined, not just the outcome. And for some… perhaps the journey is all that matters."