Arthur Vale

Gently rubbing the water from his eyes, Art straightened up and slowly rose out of the ice cold pool of water he used as a bath into the misty air, emerging as slowly as possible as if to cherish the last moments of the cool, refreshing embrace of the water on his heels. Padding over to a large rock, Art picked up the towel he had left there and wrapped it around his slender body, pausing only to briefly admire his reflection in the pool's placid waters.

Phoenix eyes of the most dazzling blue stared back at him, exuding an aloof indifference, an almost cold imperiousness. Now a 24 year old youth, Art's riveting face had lost all its last traces of baby fat, exposing his strong cheekbones and chiseled jaw. He had a high, straight nose centered above full pink lips that tilted upwards at either corner, adding to his aloofly beautiful charm. His skin was flawlessly smooth, reminiscent of the most brilliant white jade, contrasting with his long, damp midnight black hair which spilled down over his shoulders reaching the middle of his back in sensuous waves. He could only be described as exquisitely beautiful, a countenance and appearance unmatched under the heavens.

The rest of his figure was equally enchanting, long, slender creamy white legs extended up from small, almost daintily shaped feet to perfectly rounded, upturned buttocks and then a well defined back and abs. He was muscular, but in a slender, lithe way, maintaining incredible flexibility and an almost feline grace to his seductive body. His whole being exuded an air of cold and imperious dominance, like a king gazing down at his subjects. His slender hand reached up past his exquisitely defined collarbone to grasp the deep blue tear shaped pendant he wore in a choker necklace around his neck. The tear was made of condensed ice essence, a gift from his mother when they chanced upon a large amount of it while living in the arctic circle. The sight of it always brought back memories of his time there, of his father and then his mother and her last words as she lay dying on an unfeeling bed of ice and snow.

-- 7 years ago --

"Art, remember this." Eleanor pushed out the barely audible words through shallow breaths. "Everything that happened to our family was done by an organization known as the syndicate. They are a shockingly powerful group with their hands in nearly all the businesses and factions of the underground world. They somehow heard of your talent, of the three bloodlines you had awakened, and decided to try to take you from us to raise as a massively powerful weapon for the syndicate. Your father fought the men they sent off, and used a Void God stone to teleport us away from them. But we somehow ended up being transported to the extreme north, and your father, to protect us from a snowstorm, used more mana than his already injured body could handle. He died to protect you from the syndicate. You must not cross them without sufficient strength Art. You must hide your identity from them... Until one day..."

Art sat there for nearly a day, waiting, hoping, crying, but his mother never finished her sentence and never opened her eyes. Gently caressing the side of her face, Art responded only with a simple "I know mother," the brevity of his response belying the maelstrom of sadness, pain and anguish he felt as he tenderly gazed at her peacefully closed eyes.

-- present time --

Gently patting his cheeks, Art snapped himself out of his reverie and suppressed his grief and confusion. "What had mom wanted to say in those last moments?" He wondered. Sighing, he shook his head and dressed himself in a silken hanfu style robe. "For now," he thought, "I can only improve my own strength and standing in this world before even thinking of revenge." Masking his cold aloofness, his imperious temperament was replaced by a gentle, warm and soothing water-like aura, his icy blue eyes melting into gentle blue limpid, watery orbs.

He turned, a light smile gracing his enchanting face as he looked at Ao Bai, the snow leopard cub he had found abandoned in the north as he left and brought with him as he left. He could still recall the lost and confused blue eyes of the newborn cub as it stared up at him. Smirking at the lazily sleeping white fluff ball, he softly called for it to wake up and accompany him to the school's yearly opening ceremony while thinking how at least something good had come out of the miserable time he'd spent in the north. It ignored him, only deigning to give a small snort in response without even opening its eyes. Mockingly raising an eyebrow, he padded over and ruthlessly poked the beast's adorable button nose.

"Get up. You're coming with me." He insisted.

It still refused to budge. Releasing a sigh, Art could only shake his head in helplessness and marvel at the creature's laziness while he continued prodding it. Finally Ao Bai reluctantly agreed to reduce its size, an ability possessed by most powerful beasts, and be carried around on Art's head even while it continued sleeping.

Narrowing his eyes, Art reminded himself that he planned to hide the majority of his power. He shockingly had awoken 3 god level blood lines that afforded him a deep connection to three elements, while a person who a awakened a single bloodline was considered a genius in this world, and a single god tier bloodline would allow one to stand at the peak. Bloodlines were not necessary to cultivate in an element, but they could greatly increase one's affinity to the element it correlated with, thereby increasing cultivation speed and the power of magic using that element.

Art had awakened the bloodlines of the God of Water, the God of Ice and Snow, and the God of Space, an possessed an incredible lunar constitution that naturally fostered yin energy, further increasing his cultivation speed. These combined gave him an almost cheat like basis for cultivation, and coupled with his hard work and the extreme conditions, Art had already reached an incredible level of power, possessing mana reserves equal to old monsters that had cultivated for hundreds of years at the tender age of 19. Even so, however, his power was not yet enough to contend with the entirety of the syndicate. And so for now, he chose to hide the a great deal of this power. He would not restrict himself too much. This was simply not in his nature. However, he would maintain the power he revealed in the possible ranges for a demon level genius of the younger generation.

Art walked forward out of the frosty cave, smiling in anticipation at the thought of school and meeting other members of his generation. He was not a naturally aloof person. In fact, he actually had a very warm and friendly nature. But the extreme conditions of his childhood and the loss of his family had caused him to shut himself off from most of the world, filled with cold indifference towards others. But a small spark of warmth blossomed in his heart as he wondered what would come.

"Well, here goes nothing."