The endless corridor remained silent.
Kael stood motionless, the silver sapling still resting in his hands.
The tiny tree glowed softly, its silver veins pulsing like a heartbeat.
It was proof.
Everything he had witnessed inside Astera had truly happened.
Millions of doors stretched into eternity before him.
Millions of civilizations.
Millions of promises.
Millions of endings.
For the first time since becoming the Last Heir, Kael felt small.
Not weak.
Simply...
Small.
The Traveler's voice broke the silence.
"You understand now."
Kael nodded slowly.
"This isn't a trial."
"No."
"It never was."
"The Locks were never designed to make someone stronger."
"They exist to determine whether someone is worthy of carrying the world's memories."
Kael lowered his gaze.
"...I don't know if I am."
Old Rowan suddenly laughed.
His familiar carefree voice echoed through the endless corridor.
"Good."
Kael looked around.
"Anyone who immediately says 'I can carry everyone's burden' is either lying or an idiot."
The old man's laughter faded.
"A Gardener never grows a forest alone."
The words lingered.
Kael looked once more at the countless doors.
"...Then I won't carry them alone."
...
Far away.
Beyond the Hall.
Beyond the Garden.
Beyond even the World Tree.
The outside world continued moving.
Morning sunlight illuminated the Imperial Academy.
Students hurried toward lecture halls.
Training grounds echoed with the sounds of clashing weapons and exploding spells.
Life continued.
But not peacefully.
Inside the Grand Library...
Lyra stared at an enormous ancient manuscript spread across a circular stone table.
Dark circles rested beneath her eyes.
She had barely slept for days.
Dozens of books floated around her through mana manipulation.
Every page contained the same symbol.
A silver tree.
Yet none of them explained its meaning.
Selene quietly entered the library carrying another stack of ancient records.
"You've been here all night again."
Lyra didn't look up.
"I found another reference."
Selene placed the books down.
"What does it say?"
Lyra slowly turned the fragile page.
"The First Garden existed before the Age of Kings."
Selene frowned.
"That's impossible."
"History says civilization began after the First Cataclysm."
Lyra gave a tired smile.
"History is wrong."
Silence filled the library.
The two girls exchanged glances.
Neither wanted to say the thought that had been growing in their minds.
Finally...
Selene spoke.
"Kael knows."
Lyra closed the book.
"...Yes."
"He has known for longer than we realized."
Her voice wasn't jealous.
It was worried.
Every answer they uncovered only raised another question.
Who exactly...
...was Kael?
...
Hundreds of kilometers away.
The capital of the Empire.
The Imperial Palace.
Within a magnificent chamber decorated with golden pillars and stained-glass windows, Princess Seraphina Aurelius stood before a massive magical formation.
Unlike ordinary mages, she wore no elaborate robes.
Only a simple white military uniform beneath a crimson royal cloak.
Her golden hair was tied neatly behind her.
Before her floated seven crystal spheres.
Each represented one of the world's mana currents.
She gently raised a hand.
Blue mana surged from her fingertips.
One sphere suddenly cracked.
Seraphina frowned.
Another cracked.
Then another.
Within seconds...
Three of the seven spheres shattered simultaneously.
The elderly court magician beside her paled.
"Impossible..."
"The world's mana flow is collapsing."
Seraphina remained calm.
"No."
She stared toward the distant northern horizon.
"It's changing."
She slowly closed her hand.
The broken crystal pieces floated back together...
Only to form an entirely different pattern.
A tree.
The old magician's face lost all color.
"The World Tree..."
He whispered.
"But that's only a myth."
Seraphina quietly smiled.
"Not anymore."
She looked toward the north.
"...Kael."
"What are you awakening?"
...
Meanwhile...
At the headquarters of the Holy Church.
A knight covered in silver armor knelt before the High Pontiff.
"Your Holiness."
"The ancient relic has reacted."
The old Pontiff slowly opened his eyes.
Behind him rested an enormous black sword sealed by countless chains.
The weapon had remained dormant for over three thousand years.
Today...
A single chain broke.
The old man sighed.
"So..."
"The Heir has reached the Third Lock."
The knight's breathing stopped.
"Should we intervene?"
"No."
The Pontiff stood.
His aged eyes carried endless regret.
"The era of watching from the sidelines has ended."
"Prepare the Twelve Saints."
"They will soon have to choose."
"The Church..."
He looked toward the ancient sword.
"...or humanity."
...
At the same time.
Deep beneath the ruined northern continent.
Something enormous opened one eye.
Not the Watcher.
Something older.
Its body remained buried beneath countless mountains.
Only its golden eye became visible.
It gazed toward the World Tree.
Toward Kael.
Toward the Hall.
A deep voice echoed through the underground abyss.
"The Gardener..."
"...has finally remembered."
The creature slowly smiled.
After three thousand years...
It was finally time to awaken.
...
Back inside the Hall of Forgotten Names...
Kael suddenly stopped walking.
His Gardener's Key vibrated.
The silver sapling in his hand began to grow.
One tiny leaf unfolded.
The World Tree's voice gently echoed around him.
**"Your companions have begun walking their own paths."**
Kael looked upward.
He smiled.
Good.
Because when he finally returned to the world...
He didn't want to find the same companions he had left behind.
He wanted to find people who had continued growing...
Even without him.
Far away, Lyra unknowingly turned another page.
A single sentence, hidden beneath centuries of dust, caught her attention.
Her eyes widened.
She whispered the words aloud.
"When the First Gardener awakens..."
"...the Seven Thrones shall awaken with him."
The entire library shook.
And somewhere in the world...
The first of the Seven Thrones answered.