"Prophet… Malzahar? You're… from Valoran?"
"Yes. I was once a member of the Shurima Empire."
"Shurima… the ancient empire of legend? Then how did you end up in this world?"
"Haha… I simply woke up here one day. Quite strange, isn't it?"
Malzahar waved his hand casually.
"Now then—this is your fortune reading. Investigating me won't bring you any answers. Besides… I'm rather confident in my divination."
"…Alright."
"Good. Then come inside. We'll speak in detail."
Malzahar stood up from his crude stall—
And walked toward the back.
Ahri tightened her cloak—
Curiosity stirring.
A fellow from Valoran…
That alone was enough for her to follow.
They circled behind the stall—
And entered a wagon.
Inside—
The walls were lined with animal hides.
"Tea?"
Malzahar handed her a freshly brewed cup.
"The leaves are from Valoran."
"…Thank you."
Ahri accepted it—
Taking a small sip.
Bitter—
Like oak bark.
But layered—
With thick honey.
Strange.
But not unpleasant.
"You can relax here. No need for the cloak."
"…Alright."
After a moment of hesitation—
Ahri removed it.
Nine fluffy white tails—
Unfurled behind her.
Long violet hair—
Flowing to her waist.
Soft fox ears—
Twitching with emotion.
Golden eyes—
Like molten sunlight.
Three faint markings—
On each side of her delicate face.
Draped in red-and-white garments—
She resembled a mythical fox spirit.
A beauty—
Capable of toppling kingdoms.
An irresistible charm—
Radiated from her.
Yet—
Malzahar remained unmoved.
As he said—
He had long lost such desires.
"What a magnificent form."
He observed calmly.
"May I examine the sun stones?"
Ahri didn't answer.
But her grip tightened.
Her silence—
Was refusal.
"I see… they hold great meaning to you."
Malzahar didn't press further.
"Don't worry. I have no intention of stealing them. That would damage a prophet's reputation."
"…Then tell me."
Ahri asked carefully—
Still guarded.
"Where do they come from?"
She extended her hand—
Reluctantly.
Malzahar took the stones—
Holding them to the light.
"…Beautiful."
"They fit together perfectly."
"Truly unique."
Ahri watched him—
Without blinking.
"A craftsman named Imerro—"
"He collected stones infused with a thousand years of solar essence."
"And carved them into intricate forms."
"With a complete pair—"
"One can unleash immense power."
"Additionally—"
"He created auxiliary components."
"To further refine that solar energy."
Malzahar placed the stones back—
Sliding them gently toward her.
"Just as your past leaves you clues…"
"These stones likely have missing pieces."
"When fully assembled—"
"They may form something entirely new."
"And what you become—"
"At the end of that journey…"
"…No one can predict."
"…Pretty words."
Ahri replied softly.
Her eyes—
Still fixed on him.
Something about him—
Felt wrong.
That unease—
Was growing.
"…A mix of truth and invention."
Malzahar chuckled.
"A good fortune-teller must weave answers seamlessly."
"…Meaningless."
Ahri took back her stones—
Slightly displeased.
All of it—
Sounded impressive.
But was it real—
Or fabricated?
Impossible to tell.
"Very well."
Malzahar spread his hands.
"As a prophet, I should demonstrate something more convincing."
"How about… your love fortune?"
"My accuracy rate exceeds 99%."
"…No thanks."
"Are you sure?"
Ahri hesitated.
In his hand—
A deck of tarot cards appeared.
They floated—
Shuffling on their own.
Seventy-eight cards—
Suspended before her.
"Draw one."
"Your love… lies within."
"…Fine."
Despite herself—
Ahri felt nervous.
Curious.
Like any young woman would.
Closing her eyes—
She picked one.
And handed it over.
"Well?"
Malzahar flipped the card.
"…Interesting."
"A very favorable outcome."
"…Really?"
"Yes."
He smiled faintly.
"Your future lover…"
"…is your superior."
Ahri blinked.
"A man from another world."
"Black hair. Crimson eyes."
"Master of countless skills."
"…But be careful."
"You won't be alone."
"There will be many rivals."
"Competition."
"Conflict."
"…That's it?"
Ahri frowned.
Vague.
Too vague.
No name.
No certainty.
So this—
Was divination?
"…I see."
She turned slightly.
"Then I'll take my leave."
"Wait."
Malzahar's voice—
Changed.
Ahri froze.
Her body—
Suddenly went numb.
She couldn't move.
The magic in the air—
Was there—
But unreachable.
"…What did you do?"
Malzahar stood slowly.
Their eyes met.
His gaze—
No longer human.
Cold.
Empty.
Her tails—
Instantly fluffed in alarm.
"Struggling is pointless."
"That tea—"
"Was brewed with a rare herb from the Void."
"Even a demigod…"
"Would be paralyzed."
"…The Void…?"
Ahri's voice tightened.
The cloak—
Disintegrated.
Revealing—
What lay beneath.
A body—
Infused with something alien.
Something consuming.
Something wrong.
Dark purple energy—
Flowed endlessly.
A presence—
That repelled all life.
"I suppose… I should introduce myself properly."
His voice deepened.
Distorted.
"I am the emissary of the Void."
"The one who brings its will."
"Void Prophet—Malzahar."
A suffocating aura—
Filled the wagon.
Disaster Level—
Dragon.
And Ahri—
Couldn't move.
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