Volume 02, Chapter 75

Misty Peaks Region

After two hours of riding the train, we finally arrived in the Misty Peaks Region. The train hisses to a stop at "Gare des Brumes," the central station of the region.

As we step onto the platform, I cannot help but marvel at the station’s grandeur. The entrance hall is spacious and welcoming, with vaulted ceilings that give the space a cathedral-like elegance. Large arched windows line the walls, allowing the mist’s soft, diffuse light to filter in, creating an almost ethereal glow.

The polished stone floors reflect the warm light from the enchanted lanterns on the walls, their soft golden glow accentuating the murals’ beauty.

The wooden ticketing counters, with their intricate brass fittings, add a touch of old-world charm. The platform is covered by a glass canopy, allowing travelers to enjoy uninterrupted views of the mist-covered mountains.

Above it all, a prominent clock tower rises high into the sky, its face adorned with glowing runes that display the time in an elegant, otherworldly script.

“Woah,” I mutter, taking it all in.

The station is far more beautiful and refined than the Golden Fields Region train station.

“Haa!” Célestin stretches his arms upward, letting out a satisfied sigh. “This station always feels so relaxing,” he says, grinning as he looks around.

“Same here,” Arthur adds casually.

I glance at Arthur, noticing his change in appearance. When we first boarded the train, he excused himself to the bathroom to change out of his school uniform.

Now, he is dressed in a tight-fitting black shirt, white shorts, and yellow sneakers. The simplicity of his outfit somehow makes him look effortlessly striking. His well-defined build is now more apparent, and, unfortunately for him, it is not going unnoticed by the people around us.

“Oh, look at him, so hot,” a woman whispers to her friend as they pass by.

“Ghurl, he can hear you!” her friend replies, half-laughing and half-embarrassed.

“Heh, it’s a compliment,” the first one says, unapologetic.

Their words are directed at Arthur, and I cannot help but glance at him. He does not seem to notice—or care.

“Damn, Lyon, I did not know you were the type to show off,” Célestin teases, his smirk practically glued to his face. “That shirt attracts the ladies' attention.”

Arthur blinks at him, tilting his head slightly. “It’s just a shirt.”

I sigh. Seriously, how dense can this guy be?

Célestin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Right. I forgot how hopelessly oblivious you are.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I clap a hand on his shoulder before Célestin can drag this out any further. “Do not worry about it.”

Arthur gives me a skeptical look but lets it go. Arthur’s denseness about the attention he is receiving is unexpected, especially for someone as observant as him. It is both surprising and, honestly, a little endearing.

“Come on, you two,” Célestin says, gesturing for us to follow him. “The Misty Peaks await!”

With that, we begin walking, the mist swirling gently around us, clinging to the air like a delicate veil. Each step out of the station reveals more of the breathtaking surroundings, and soon, I find myself in awe of the city before me.

This is Veilopolis, the heart of the Misty Peaks Region. The city looks like something out of a dream—a picturesque blend of rustic charm and magical elegance. Dotted across the hills are charming stone and timber chalets and cottages, their steep roofs designed to weather winter snowfall.

Large windows frame stunning views of the surrounding peaks, while flower boxes overflow with vibrant blooms, their colors popping against the misty backdrop. Intricate wooden carvings of mythical creatures adorn door frames and balconies, adding to the fairy-tale atmosphere.

The narrow, winding cobblestone streets twist and turn, creating a labyrinth that invites exploration. Enchanted lanterns hang from wrought-iron posts, casting a soft, magical glow over the roads and creating a warm, welcoming ambiance that defies the coolness of the mist.

The central square is at the heart of Veilopolis, a lively gathering place that seems to pulse with energy. A grand stone fountain stands at its center, its crystal-clear water shimmering faintly with enchantments.

Around it, wooden benches invite travelers to sit and take in the sights. Draped in colorful fabrics, market stalls line the square, offering everything from fresh produce to handcrafted goods and magical trinkets that hum faintly with latent Mana.

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Surrounding the city are mystical gardens, their beauty almost otherworldly. Herbs grow in neat rows, their aromas mingling with the scent of enchanted flowers that glow faintly in the dim light.

Ancient trees, their twisted branches heavy with age, stand tall and proud, casting an aura of quiet reverence over the area. The gardens exude a serene, enchanting presence as though they are silently watching over the city.

“Woah,” I mutter, my eyes wide as I take in the sights.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Célestin asks, glancing at me with a smile.

“Yeah…” I nod, unable to take my eyes off the scenery.

“Hey, Doms and Célestin,” Arthur says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Where do you want to eat?”

I turn to him and see he has a soft smile. He is holding a neatly folded brochure listing local restaurants.

Why is he asking that? Does he assume I am hungry already? Okay, maybe I have become a bit of a foodie since I woke up in Dominic’s body, but still! Just because I impulsively want to eat everything I see does not mean I am hungry.

But before I can finish that thought, my stomach betrays me.

-Growl!

The loud rumble echoes embarrassingly, making my face burn. Crap, timing! Why am I hungry now of all times?!

“Pfft! Hahahahaha!” Célestin bursts out laughing, doubling over with amusement.

Even Arthur chuckles, though his reaction is far more composed. “Well, since it is already 12:23 PM, how about we eat lunch first?”

As soon as he says that, my mind betrays me again, sending me into a vivid daydream of food:

A plate of roasted chicken, its skin golden and crispy, glistening with juices and seasoned with herbs. Beside it, a heaping pile of creamy mashed potatoes drenched in savory gravy.

I can see bowls of fluffy rice topped with sizzling beef strips, caramelized onions, and a hint of garlic. Then, there are thick, buttery slices of bread paired with a bowl of hot, hearty soup, followed by a platter of vibrant fruit tarts and chocolate éclairs. The imagined aromas fill my mind, making my stomach growl even louder.

“Domy, you are drooling,” Célestin teases, smirking as he nudges me with his elbow.

“Ah!” I snap out of my daydream and quickly wipe the corner of my mouth, shaking my head to clear the food images. “Fine, let us eat,” I mutter, trying to recover my dignity.

Célestin throws his arm around my shoulder, grinning. “That is the spirit! Let us find the best restaurant in Veilopolis, shall we?”

Arthur glances at the brochure again, nodding thoughtfully. “There is a highly-rated place nearby called Le Chalet Gourmand. It is known for its local specialties and a fusion of magical cuisines. Should we check it out?”

“Sounds perfect,” Célestin says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on, Domy, you are going to love it!”

Reluctantly, I follow them, trying to ignore that I am still drooling a little at the thought of that roasted chicken. This is going to be an enjoyable lunch.

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The three of them sit in a cozy restaurant called Le Chalet Gourmand. The café’s interior is rustic yet elegant, exuding the warm charm of a French countryside retreat.

The walls are paneled with rich, dark wood, adorned with vintage French posters and paintings of the Misty Peaks. Shelves lined with jars of spices, herbs, and magical trinkets give the space a homey yet mystical feel.

A large stone fireplace crackles at one end of the room, its flames casting a gentle glow over the polished wooden tables and plush chairs. Wrought-iron chandeliers hang from the ceiling, their enchanted candles flickering softly, creating a romantic, golden ambiance.

The faint scent of freshly baked bread and roasted herbs fills the air, mingling with the quiet hum of diners enjoying their meals.

Dominic and Célestin sit in a booth while Arthur sits across from them, leaning slightly against the polished oak table.

“Hey, Domy,” Célestin says, pointing at the menu with a mischievous grin. “You should try this. It is called Andouillette. Highly recommended.”

Dominic glances at the menu, narrowing his eyes. “What is it made out of?”

Célestin’s grin widens. “Oh, you know… cooked cow’s p*nis.”

Dominic’s right eye twitches, his expression deadpan. “Why are you even suggesting that?”

Célestin shrugs nonchalantly, the smirk never leaving his face. “Because it would make yours bigge—”

Before he can finish, Dominic’s fist shoots out toward him, but Célestin catches it effortlessly, his reflexes as sharp as ever.

“I am just joking, Domy!” Célestin chuckles, clearly enjoying himself.

Dominic sighs, leaning back in his seat. “You are lucky my guns are in my bag right now.”

Across the table, Arthur watches their interaction quietly, his sharp eyes flicking between them.

‘Should I tell them that I know?’ Arthur thinks, clenching his fists slightly under the table.

Arthur is not just here to accompany them but to confront Dominic—no, Clark. He wants answers about the truth he overheard days ago—that the Dominic sitting in front of him is not the same Dominic he grew up with.

But now, sitting here, Arthur finds himself hesitating. ‘Why… am I hesitating?’ he wonders, biting his lip in frustration.

Maybe it is because he does not want to disrupt their fragile bond. Maybe it is because part of him does not want to face the truth—that his best friend, the Dominic he knew, is truly gone.

“Bon après-midi, may I know your orders?”

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a soft voice.

Arthur looks up, startled, to see a waitress standing beside their table. She wears a crisp white apron over her black dress, her warm smile contrasting with the tension that had gripped him moments ago.

“Oh, uh…” Arthur scrambles to compose himself, glancing at the menu.

Célestin, ever the smooth talker, grins up at the waitress. “I will have the Quiche Lorraine and some hot cocoa, please.”

Still glaring at Célestin from the earlier exchange, Dominic mutters, “I will take the Coq au Vin and some water.”

The waitress turns to Arthur, her pen poised above her notepad.

Arthur hesitates momentarily before saying, “I will have the Cassoulet and a glass of iced tea, thank you.”

The waitress nods politely before walking off to place their orders. Arthur’s eyes follow her briefly before returning to the two sitting across from him.

Dominic and Célestin are already back to their lighthearted banter.

“So, Domy, do you want me to feed you some Andouillette when it comes?” Célestin teases with a sly grin.

Dominic rolls his eyes. “No, thanks. I would rather starve than let you near my food.”

Célestin gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “How cruel! And here I was, thinking we had something special.”

“Special? The only thing special about you is how you keep finding new ways to annoy me,” Dominic shoots back, though the corner of his mouth twitches in a small smile.

“Admit it—you would miss me if I were not here,” Célestin quips, leaning back smugly.

Dominic snorts. “I would miss you like I would miss a splinter in my foot.”

Arthur cannot help but smirk at their exchange, though the weight in his chest remains. ‘They act like nothing is wrong, but I know the truth. I just… I cannot ignore it anymore. I need to talk to him alone. I have to ask him why he took over Dominic’s life and did not tell me sooner,’ he thinks.

As their laughter and playful jabs continue, Arthur sits silently, clenching his fists under the table. When the opportunity comes, I will confront him. I have to.