I Kyla carried Chris on my back as I made my way toward the Temps Tower. She was still unconscious, her breathing shallow, her body trembling from everything that had happened.
For the first time in my long life, I was about to enter the legendary tower. Only Elder Silk ever stepped inside, and once—nearly a decade ago—a man cloaked entirely in black had been escorted in by her.
Even from far away, I remember feeling a chill crawl up my spine just by accidentally meeting his eyes. He disappeared into the tower with Elder Silk that day and never came out again. Only she returned.
Now, as I stood beneath the massive white tower, I understood why people called it sacred. Every inch of its stone surface was covered in sculpted markings—like a language older than the world itself. From a distance, I could see the top piercing through the clouds… but the moment I stepped closer, the end vanished completely, stretching infinitely upward.
A structure that defied reality itself.
"You can never see its end or there is no end ," Elder Silk said behind me. Her voice was strangely calm today—almost casual. "I don't know how it works either. But it is truly… a sight to behold."
Today had been nothing but shocks and impossibilities. At this point, I could barely react.
"Come inside," Elder Silk ordered.
The colossal doors groaned open. I expected light, beauty, heavenly architecture.
Instead—
Darkness.
Burn marks.
Shattered stone.
An interior that looked like it had been devoured by tragedy.
It was the opposite of the tower's magnificent exterior.
I must have looked stunned, because Elder Silk spoke again.
"Don't be surprised. You thought this place was some holy paradise? The effects of the Night of Tragedy weren't limited to the forest."
In the far corner lay a scattered pile of thousands of books, pushed together into a small living space. Elder Silk had been living here… alone I guess.
"Lay her on the sofa and follow me."
I set Chris down gently, then followed Elder Silk deeper inside. She carried the boy—using veins she summoned like threads of living mana.
A small circular chamber lit up automatically as we entered. The same ancient symbols from the walls glowed softly here too. In the center floated a platform of hovering stone.
Elder Silk placed Ewan on it and bound his limbs with chains made of some kind of ancient metal with markings on it too.
"He's unconscious—why chain him?" I asked quietly.
Her silence lasted a long, unsettling moment.
"These chains suppress mana," she finally said. "If… that thing comes out again, no one knows what will happen."
Her voice—usually sharp and emotionless—carried real fear.
"Now… tell me everything."
I explained everything: our encounter, Chris's attack, the monstrous transformation, the withering forest, Chris being torn apart—and reborn—and the blinding light that reversed all destruction.
I left out one thing.
That the magic felt exactly like the magic that saved me during the tragedy a hundred years ago.
I couldn't say something so impossible. Humans don't live that long. And Ewan was just a child.
Elder Silk listened without interrupting. When I finished, she fell into deep thought.
"I know it sounds—"
"This is impossible," she interrupted softly. "How can a child… using magic like that… not from the royal family—"
"Royal family?" I cut in. "What does that have to do with this?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"You truly don't know. That power you witnessed is a bloodline magic. A type of magic only pure-blooded Royal families can use. There are seven continents in Sylviopia, each ruled by one royal lineage. And the magic you saw…"
She looked at the boy with something between awe and dread.
"…is the strongest of all. The bloodline magic of Azerian Royal Family the Heath family. Time and Void."
My heart dropped.
"So… he's royalty?"
"No," Elder Silk said firmly. "The last heir of Azeria died before producing a child. The current king is the late king's elderly father, barely clinging to life and running the kingdom. The royal bloodline ended decades ago."
"Then who is this boy?" My voice trembled. "And how can he use the royal magic?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "But the tower reacted for the first time in ten years… so I summoned him the one who will know how this happened."
As she said this, the chamber door creaked open.
A presence colder than death itself seeped inside. I didn't sense him entering the forest until the door opened.
A man walked in—tall, draped in black from head to toe, his face hidden, his aura suffocating.
The same man I saw ten years ago.
Just being near him made my spine stiffen and my throat tighten.
"This," Elder Silk said slowly, "is the current king of Azeria. Father of the late King Arthur Heath."
I froze completely.
The king… in this tower.
Standing before a boy we tried to kill whom origin is unknown.
And whatever was happening now—
was only the beginning.