Adlet and Lathandre returned to the boy's hometown, where he was able to bid farewell to his parents before leaving for an indefinite journey.
Adlet stood before his parents, the weight of the moment pressing on him more than any physical burden. His mother, eyes red and hands trembling, reached out to touch his shoulder, as though trying to hold onto him one last time.
"You can't leave," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Not yet. You're still just a boy. We need you here."
His father stood beside her, his expression a quiet storm of pride and sorrow. "There's still so much for you to learn here, Adlet. This isn't a decision you can just walk away from."
Adlet felt the sting of their words, the bitter truth of their love pulling at him. He'd never truly imagined leaving them behind. But his dream, the pull to something greater than the life they had planned for him—it was stronger than any comfort he had ever known.
"I'm not a boy anymore," Adlet said quietly, though the words felt hollow in his chest. He took a breath, forcing the heat in his throat to subside. "I've already made my decision."
For a long moment, neither parent spoke. The air between them was thick, as if their love for him, their fear for him, could fill the space and crush him under its weight. Then, slowly, his father placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm but not unkind.
"We know," his father murmured. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."
His mother embraced him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "Just... come back to us, Adlet. Promise me that."
"I promise," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. But the truth was, he didn't know when or if he'd ever return.
His master, Lathandre, gave him a nod from the doorway. It was time. The future called, relentless and sure. With a final, lingering glance at the people who had given him everything, Adlet turned and walked into the unknown.
The thirteen-year-old left his parents behind and set out toward the capital alongside Lathandre.
They stopped only briefly in a nearby village—to secure provisions, replace worn gear, and find Adlet clothes better suited for the road ahead. Then they resumed without ceremony, moving onward as they always had.
Days fell into a familiar rhythm.
Walking.
Training.
Rest.
Adlet felt the difference in his body now. The trial in the woods had changed him—quietly but unmistakably. His endurance no longer frayed as easily. His movements carried less wasted effort. Each morning, he adjusted his pace, his breathing, his focus, learning how to inhabit this stronger version of himself without rushing it.
He loved the journey.
The further they traveled, the more the small villages of his childhood gave way to larger towns—places alive with noise and color, markets overflowing with voices he didn't recognize, roads worn smooth by generations of travelers chasing their own futures.
Yet the land itself remained constant.
Endless green plains.
Open fields bending beneath the wind.
Lakes that mirrored the Star-speckled sky above.
Rivers spilling down from the rocky vault overhead, as if the world itself bled light.
Months passed.
When they finally reached their destination, the land rose sharply beneath their feet.
A vast rocky plateau stretched before them, overlooking an immense city carved into stone and ambition. High walls encircled it, white and unyielding. And from the plateau's edge, a great staircase descended—wide, immaculate, nearly a hundred steps of pale stone leading up toward the capital of the kingdom.
Tray.
Adlet stopped at the base of the staircase.
For the first time since leaving home, the weight of the journey settled fully into his chest.
Behind him lay the road.
Ahead—everything else.
He turned, instinctively, just in time to see Lathandre slowing his pace.
They stopped together.
"This is where I leave you," Lathandre said at last.
There was no hesitation in his voice. No regret. Only certainty—quiet, deliberate, long accepted.
"You've come far, Adlet. But what waits beyond this point isn't something I can walk with you through."
Adlet swallowed.
He had known this moment would come. He had prepared for it. And yet, when the words finally arrived, they struck deeper than he expected.
"What if I'm not ready?" he asked, the question escaping before he could stop it.
Lathandre turned fully toward him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You are," he said without pause. "Not because you're flawless. Not because you've mastered everything. But because you know how to keep moving forward when you aren't."
His grip tightened slightly.
"That is what matters."
Adlet nodded, jaw clenched, refusing to let the emotion spill over.
"I'm proud of you," Lathandre continued. "More than you realize."
There was a brief silence—heavy, shared.
Then Lathandre spoke again, his tone lowering.
"One last thing," he said. "Never speak of Pami. Never speak of the true origin of your beetle. What you carry is… rare. And people fear what they do not understand. Some would try to control it. Others would try to take it from you."
Adlet met his gaze.
"I won't tell anyone," he said.
"Good," Lathandre replied. "Keep it hidden. Keep it yours."
"When you've triumphed over the Academy," Lathandre said, his voice calm but carrying weight,
"when you stand among those strong enough to shape the kingdom—"
Adlet's breath caught.
"—come find me."
Lathandre's gaze didn't waver.
"We'll walk the kingdom together," he continued.
"Master and student. But this time… you won't be following behind. I swear it."
Something firm settled in Adlet's chest.
A promise.
"…Then I won't take long," Adlet said, a spark of fire breaking through the sadness. "Prepare yourself. I'll come back for you."
For a moment, Lathandre allowed himself a smile—rare, restrained, genuine.
"I'll be waiting."
He turned then, his figure growing smaller with each step as he walked toward the northern horizon.
Adlet watched until the man disappeared from sight.
Only then did he face the staircase again.
He drew a slow breath.
And began to climb.
His future waited at the top.
Several lifts were set up along the sides, transporting people and goods—far more popular than climbing the stairs. That didn't bother Adlet; he preferred the solitude, the silent challenge of each step. His legs burned with the effort, but he relished it. With every upward movement, he felt like he was shaking off the past and inching closer to his future.
When he reached the top, the boy was immediately engulfed by the crowd. The streets were overflowing with people; he had never seen so many souls gathered in one place. Awe and nervousness filled him in equal measure. White stone buildings towered on both sides, lining a road that led deep into the city's heart.
Adlet spent the next few hours wandering through the bustling streets and colorful shops before finally finding an inn where he could stay until registration day. Those few days of rest allowed him to explore, taste local food, and finally relax—a luxury he hadn't known in months. But beneath it all, the anticipation thrummed in his chest.
The days passed quickly, and before long, the gates of Darwin Academy were due to open.
At dawn, Adlet left his inn and headed east. He already knew the path by heart. Darwin Academy stood like a fortress at the city's edge, surrounded by massive walls and an aura of authority. Its gates were still closed when he arrived, but several people were already waiting.
Most were older than him—aspirants hoping to register as Protectors. The crowd grew until it reached nearly a hundred people. Adlet couldn't help but feel amazed that so many Protectors existed in EFU. He had known the kingdom was vast, but never imagined such numbers.
As he began to grow impatient, a familiar voice called out behind him.
"You're… Adlet?"
He turned and froze. It was Florian—a boy from his village. They had studied together, though Florian had always boasted about training from a young age to become a Protector. If he was here, it meant he hadn't been lying.
"Yes, that's me. And you're Florian, right?" Adlet said.
"Yeah. Didn't expect to see anyone from the village here. You're registering too?"
"Of course. Why else would I be here?"
"So the rumors were true—you really spent your days alone in the forest. Still, I hope you know there are prerequisites for registration. It'd be a shame if all that effort was wasted," Florian said with a smirk.
"Don't worry about me," Adlet replied evenly.
Before the tension could grow, the gates opened with a heavy creak. A tall man stood in the doorway, his presence commanding silence.
"Welcome, candidates. If you are here today, you aspire to defend humanity from Apex threats lurking within the danger zones—and bring pride to our kingdom. However, the path from ambition to mastery will be long. The first step begins now: the entrance test for Darwin Academy. The cost is fifty gold coins, payable in advance, regardless of outcome. If all is clear, line up calmly before me."
He stepped aside, and the line quickly formed. Adlet, who had arrived early, stood near the front—just behind Florian, who seemed proud of his place.
"First candidate!" the man called.
A boy stepped forward, handed over a pouch of coins, and revealed his Aura—a faint brown glow surrounding his body.
"Lower Rank 1 Aura," the examiner noted, while a colleague recorded the result.
"Name and Guardian?"
"Thomas. I've assimilated a Dark Bear."
"Very well. Stand over there."
The next candidates followed, showing various Rank 1 Auras and creatures Adlet had never seen.
Then came Florian's turn. His body lit up with a bright orange glow.
"Intermediate Rank 1 Aura. Name and Guardian?"
"Florian. My Guardian is a Three-Tailed Wolf."
"A Rank 3 species. Not bad," someone murmured behind Adlet.
The pressure in the air was palpable, but Adlet remained unfazed, his eyes steady as he watched the others. His turn was fast approaching.
Finally, it was his turn. The crowd seemed to hold its breath as he stepped forward. Adlet focused, channeling the energy deep within him—the power he'd struggled to harness, the power he'd learned to command.
With a deep breath, his Aura flared to life. A dark, shimmering glow spiraled around him, its depth like the night sky, a force in its own right. The air seemed to hum as he held the energy steady.
"Intermediate Rank 1 Aura," the examiner declared, his voice loud enough for the crowd to hear.
Adlet blinked in surprise. He had expected something lower—and yet here he was, standing with an aura brighter than he'd imagined. He could feel the eyes of the crowd on him, but he kept his focus, his pride rising like a tide within him. The Dark Woods had made him stronger than he ever realized.
But before he could bask in the moment, the examiner's next question cut through his thoughts. "Name and Guardian?"
"Adlet. Dark Beetle."
The examiner paused, raising an eyebrow. A hushed murmur swept through the crowd, some intrigued, others skeptical.
"Dark Beetle? Never heard of it," one person whispered.
"Probably an Ephemeral species. Won't last long," another sneered.
Adlet's jaw tightened, the sting of their words sharp against his confidence. He clenched his fists, his grip on the energy pulsing. His voice barely wavered as he met the examiner's gaze and said with conviction, "It's a Guardian that's strong enough to face any trial."
The examiner cleared his throat, silencing the gossip, and glanced down at his notes, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Very well. Join the others."
Adlet obeyed, his heart pounding with excitement. The whispers stung, but they wouldn't break him. He had come too far to let others' doubts define him.
As he took his place among the other candidates, he could feel the weight of the moment settling over him. The test was just beginning. This was only the first step, but the path ahead stretched out before him like an endless horizon.