The Invincible Young Master

[A/N: those who read early yesterday might have missed it. I've added a scene where Spark asks for spare clothes, so this convo continues from there.]

Amelia blinked, taken aback by the request. She raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with mild curiosity. "Why do you ask?"

Spark tilted his gaze downward, drawing her attention to his tattered and filthy clothes. She hadn't fully noticed it before, perhaps distracted by his casual charm and steady confidence, but now that she saw it—he looked downright feral.

His words made her finally take in the full extent of his rugged appearance. His disheveled hair, streaked with dirt, and the wildness of his frayed robes made him look like someone who'd been roughing it in the wilderness for weeks.

With a slight chuckle, Amelia reached into her storage bracelet. After rummaging for a moment, she pulled out a plain white dress. She hesitated, glancing between Spark and the garment.

"I don't have any men's clothing with me," she explained, her voice practical, though laced with amusement. "This is all I have."

Spark looked at the dress, then back at her, his eyes widening in disbelief before his lips curled into a playful smirk. "A dress? What am I, a widower in mourning?"

Amelia shrugged, her expression unbothered, a small grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "It's the only option I have. Take it or stay in your... barbarian style attire."

Spark caught the plain white robe mid-air. "I suppose, beggars can't be choosers."

He wasted no time, quickly slipping into the robe. The transformation was instant—gone was the rough, wild figure that had entered the cave earlier.

In his place stood someone who, though still dressed simply, exuded a gentlemanly grace. The robe wasn't anything special, but it suited him in a way that reminded Amelia of his earlier composed demeanor.

Despite its simplicity, the robe added an unexpected refinement to his appearance, returning him to a confident and composed figure.

"So, what exactly are you doing in a place like this?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Spark leaned back against the wall, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

"Funny story," he replied, crossing his arms casually over his chest. "I was kidnapped."

Amelia blinked, caught off guard.

"Kidnapped?" she repeated, half-expecting him to be joking.

"Yep," Spark said nonchalantly. "By some shady stalkers."

Amelia stared at him, unsure if he was pulling her leg. But the longer she looked, the more she realized he wasn't. Shaking her head in disbelief, she asked, "Kidnapped? You?"

Spark shrugged, his expression light but unreadable. "What can I say? I'm a man of mystery. People just can't resist dragging me into their schemes."

As they continued talking, Amelia found herself growing more intrigued by Spark. He was unlike anyone she had ever met—sharp-witted and blunt, with a confidence that seemed rooted in more than just arrogance. There was a certainty in the way he spoke, as if he carried the truth with him, no matter how outrageous his words might be.

The firelight played softly against the cave walls, casting long, gentle shadows. Amelia's gaze fell to the flames, her eyes softening as she lost herself in thought.

The warm glow illuminated her face, revealing a brief flicker of melancholy in her expression.

"I've heard that no one leaves this forest alive," she murmured, her voice low, nearly drowned by the crackling fire.

Spark raised an eyebrow, amusement flashing in his eyes. "Is that so?"

Amelia sighed, extending her spiritual sense outward once more in a familiar attempt to explore the area beyond the cave.

But as before, her senses hit a wall—the miasma outside was too thick, dense, dark energy blocking her from perceiving anything beyond the oppressive atmosphere pressing in on them.

Her heart sank, and a small, barely audible whisper slipped from her lips. "Will I die here?"

She had heard the stories from her elders. Records of powerful ascendants who had ventured into the forest to explore its hidden secrets, only to vanish without a trace.

One such story was of an ethereal manifestation stage ascendant, a man of incredible power, who had entered this forest long ago to unravel its mysteries. He had never returned.

Amelia's strength, while considerable at her current Astral Bloom stage, seemed minuscule compared to that ethereal manifestation expert. If someone like him hadn't made it out, what chance did she stand?

She pulled her cloak tighter around her, trying to ward off the cold feeling of despair creeping into her bones. Yet, strangely, despite the oppressive danger of the forest, she found a small measure of comfort in Spark's presence.

His nonchalance, his irreverent attitude—there was something about him that made the overwhelming fear feel a little less suffocating.

Seeing the melancholy settle over her, Spark waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing away her dark thoughts like smoke. "Why are you getting all gloomy on me?"

He said with a lightheartedness that almost seemed out of place and shot her a wry grin. "Just so you know, I'm terrible at comforting women."

She studied him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful.

"Why are you so calm?" she asked. "Aren't you worried about this place?"

"Worried?" Spark tilted his head, his tone casual. "Why would I be?"

Her gaze narrowed. "Because no one survives here. Even the strong have fallen in this place."

Spark shrugged, his expression unreadable, though an amused glint danced in his eyes. "I suppose that's because I'm not 'no one.'"

A faint smile crept across her lips as she studied him, intrigued by his nonchalance. "Oh? Then who are you?"

"I am the strongest," Spark said, his voice steady yet somehow playful.

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You have a strange sense of humor."

She looked him over again, but no matter how much she focused, she couldn't feel any sign of power from him. Even with her astral bloom stage senses, he seemed completely ordinary—no special presence or hint of danger or skill.

Suddenly, a low, rumbling growl echoed through the cave, causing Amelia to jump slightly, her instincts kicking in as she scanned the dimly lit surroundings for any threat.

But the source of the sound wasn't a lurking beast; it was Spark's stomach grumbling.

"I'm hungry," he grumbled. "He should be back soon."

Amelia blinked, confused. "Who?"

Spark smirked. "Did I forget to mention I have a companion?"

Almost on cue, the ground trembled, a deep rumble vibrating through the cave. A feral growl filled the air, thick with energy. Spark stood, gesturing lazily toward the entrance.

"Come on," he said, strolling toward the exit without a hint of urgency. "He's back."

Amelia followed behind him, her steps cautious, uncertainty written all over her face.

As she stepped out of the cave, her breath caught in her throat.

Before them stood a massive, lizard-like creature, its dark scales thicker than tree trunks. Glowing red eyes fixed on Amelia with fierce intelligence, as if seeing straight through her. The creature towered over the cave, its sheer size freezing her in place. Your journey continues with m v|l-e'm,p y r

Spark's voice broke the silence. "Meet my buddy, Chaos, The devourer of worlds."