Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person’s POV

"It’s as if I have seen him somewhere before... but no matter how much I try, I just can’t remember where."

As those words left her lips, Arlene’s expression grew troubled and her brows knitted slightly as she continued to stare at the crystallized young man, trying again and again to grasp that fleeting sense of familiarity that slipped away every time she felt she was about to recall it.

The sensation lingered stubbornly in her mind and returned each time whenever her eyes fell upon his face.

But that feeling refused to take a definite shape, leaving her with nothing but a growing frustration and an inexplicable unease.

The blue-haired woman watched her closely, and a faint hint of expectation appeared in her cloudy blue eyes as she waited in silence, hoping that Arlene might recall something useful.

But as the seconds stretched into minutes and no answer came, she slowly exhaled and shook her head, understanding that forcing the matter further would yield no result.

Letting the matter rest for the moment, she turned her attention back toward the coffin and her expression gradually turned serious once again as she prepared herself for what she was about to do next.

Taking a slow, steady breath, she spoke without turning back,

"Step back... all of you."

Her voice was calm but firm.

The group of five was momentarily startled by the sudden command, but none of them questioned her as they immediately complied and retreated toward the edge of the small island, giving her ample space as they had already sensed that she was about to take another decisive action.

Wisps of icy mist began to rise from her hands in the form of thin strands that curled gently around her fingers before growing denser, gathering, and thickening until a visible, glowing aura of frost formed around her arms.

The cold energy manifested so tangibly that it seemed to weigh upon the air itself, and it was only then that she stepped forward.

She moved beside the coffin and bent slightly, her glowing hands reaching down as she grasped the young man by his shoulders.

Her icy fingers pressed against his crystallized form, and the moment her hands made contact with him, she became alert, and her senses sharpened as she expected some form of resistance, any kind of backlash, or even a hidden mechanism to activate.

But nothing happened.

There was no reaction or any movement from him, leaving only silence.

She lifted him slowly, and as his body rose from the coffin, she immediately felt the unnatural heaviness of his body.

It was about five times heavier than the regular man of his size and appearance, making her heart beat quicker as she thought that she had discovered some kind of unknown and miraculous existence.

Now that she held him fully, she could finally understand just how strange his condition truly was.

He did not feel like a living being.

Instead, he felt like a statue.

And the irony was in this fact that even though he was alive, his form was rigid and unyielding like a dead person in her grasp.

His flesh and bones had seemingly crystallized into ice.

His skin was smooth yet unyielding as it had turned into something akin to layered ice sheets, carrying a faint bluish tint that resembled the complexion of an orc living in the wild, though far more refined and unnatural in its appearance.

And yet, despite all of that, this young man still clung to life stubbornly.

She could still faintly sense the sluggish flow of blood within him that moved slowly through his frozen veins as if burdened by the overwhelming cold that permeated every part of his being, from his muscles to his very bones.

It was a paradox and a contradiction that should not have existed.

And because of that, it fascinated her.

For a brief moment, she forgot everything else, her attention being completely drawn to the mystery that this young man represented.

Her thoughts drifted and mingled with all the number of possibilities she could imagine as she examined him silently, trying to understand the impossible state he existed in.

Time seemed to pass unnoticed until a sudden movement broke the stillness.

Uncle Caspian’s grandson, who had been unconscious until now, stirred and abruptly opened his eyes.

Though his awakening went unnoticed by everyone except his grandfather, whose grip tightened slightly around him in response.

The young man’s gaze wandered briefly in confusion before it fell upon the crystallized figure in the blue-haired woman’s arms.

Seeing the blue tinted humanoid figure whose features he could not see from his view angle, he shouted instinctively,

"Who is this monster?!"

His voice echoed sharply through the cavern, shattering the silence that had settled there and instantly breaking the blue-haired woman out of her thoughts.

Her head snapped up as her eyes turned toward him with a clear trace of annoyance flashing across her face.

Under her gaze, the young man froze immediately, his voice dying in his throat as his expression shifted from fear to stunned silence upon seeing her up close.

His eyes widened, and his mouth remained slightly open as his earlier panic had been replaced by a foolish, dazed look.

And even though the blue-haired woman recognized the infatuation in the young man’s gaze, she did not react to his expression and simply ignored him, as this was a normal reaction men had when they saw her countenance for the first time.

Without another word, she lowered the crystallized young man back into the coffin with controlled care, ensuring that his body was positioned exactly as before.

Then, with a slight movement of her hand, she manipulated the surrounding ice and conjured a new icy coffin lid, sealing it once again and restoring what she had previously broken.

After that, she placed both her hands upon the ground.

Her expression grew solemn as she began to chant softly in a low and steady voice.