Ryn didn't respond right away.

His eyes drifted toward the edge of the Isle.

"The Hero Ceremony's coming up," he said instead.

Jay frowned. "That's not an answer."

"It is," Ryn replied calmly. "Heroes are chosen by the people—one that the world acknowledges."

Jay pushed himself upright. "And what if they choose wrong?"

Ryn paused.

"Then," he said quietly, "they chose the best person they could."

Jay frowned. "And if that person fails?"

Ryn looked back toward the house.

"Then I don't get to."

A beat.

"That still doesn't make me the Hero."

Jay frowned, clearly unsatisfied.

But after a moment, he looked away and didn't press the issue.

The warmth around him shifted.

What had been a steady flow of Essence suddenly tightened as he tugged on the final remnants of Life Energy from the flower.

Ryn noticed immediately.

Jay exhaled, shoulders relaxing as the last traces of energy settled into his core. The faint glow around him faded, leaving only a residual warmth beneath his skin.

"…Huh," Jay muttered.

Jay didn't answer right away.

Instead, his gaze unfocused slightly, toward the patch of grass on the ground. Ryn assumed he was looking at his panel anyway.

He raised an eyebrow. "Feel different?"

"…Wait," Jay muttered. "No way."

Ryn straightened. "You advanced?"

Jay nodded, a slow grin starting to form.

"Mid-Trainee. I actually—yeah, it went through."

He flexed his fingers again, more deliberately this time, then frowned and lifted his forearm.

There was a shallow cut there from when he'd been blown away by the mage golem. It was half-healed—new skin still clung on as it recovered.

Then, skin started knitting together before his eyes, the redness fading until nothing remained but smooth flesh.

Jay froze.

"…Did you see that?" he asked, voice a little higher than usual.

Ryn nodded. "Hard not to."

Jay stared at his arm, then laughed, short and incredulously.

"That's—" He stopped, ran his thumb over the spot again, just to be sure. "That's insane."

"Passive recovery," Ryn said. "Not uncommon within those that have Life Affinity, but congrats."

"I honestly thought my peak contribution to the world was mixing a decent cocktail," Jay replied with a grin.

After a while, he finally cooled down. Jay let out a cool breath that faded away with the night wind.

"…Alright," he said. "I'm spent. For the second time today."

Ryn nodded. "You did a lot today, rest."

Jay didn't argue. He turned toward one of the guest rooms lining the hall, pausing only to glance back.

"…Tomorrow," he said.

Ryn inclined his head. "Tomorrow."

They split off in opposite directions.

Ryn entered a smaller, quieter room and closed the door behind him. Instead of a bed, the space held a neatly folded roll of bedding tucked against the wall.

He paused.

"…Huh."

After a moment, he knelt and unrolled it, laying out the mat and blanket the way the instructions etched into the floor suggested. The process was simple, if a little strange.

When he finished, he sat back and stared at it for a second longer than necessary.

Asteris had weird tastes…

Still, it would do.

Ryn exhaled once and lay down, letting the day finally settle.

Morning could come when it wanted to.

***

Ryn woke before the Isle stirred, light filtering in through the high windows in pale bands. The air felt different—something had definitely shifted while they slept.

He sat up, rolling the bedding back into its neat bundle, and stepped outside.

Jay was already in the hall, rubbing at his eyes, then paused.

"…You feel that?" he asked.

Ryn nodded.

They didn't have to wait long.

A low, resonant sound rolled across the Isle, not enough to cause a commotion, but just enough so that it can't be ignored.

Ryn turned toward the far side of the grounds.

The shed.

Wood gleamed faintly now, with etched patterns tracing along the beams. Metal fittings lined the corners that looked newly polished, as if they had always been there.

"…That wasn't like that yesterday," he said.

"No," Ryn replied. "It wasn't."

At the center of the shed's doors, the sigil was exactly as they expected.

[Primary Archive: Open]

[Access Available]

Before Ryn could even reach for the handle, something clicked. The patterns along the shed flared once, as the doors began to swing open.

Ryn held his breath in anticipation.

This was it.

The sole reason he'd come to the Isles.

The doors swung fully open.

There was no grand hall beyond them, nothing extravagant like its outside had suggested.

Just a single, modest space.

At the center of the shed sat three chests, arranged in a straight line atop a low stone platform. Each was different in make, yet all shared the same feature.

A slotted keyhole.

Each slot was cut with precise intent, shaped unmistakably for the gems they carried.

Jay slowed to a stop beside him.

"…That's it?"

Ryn didn't answer.

He stepped forward, eyes fixed on the chests.

Three. No more. No less.

His grip tightened slightly.

He'd been right.

The Isle hadn't hidden a complete inheritance in one place. Each gem wasn't a reward on its own. It was a component.

This explained his hypothesis on Rora exactly. He'd gotten to this point, opened the first one with the flower gem, and left the Isles.

Ryn reached into his ring, producing the gems. They rested in his palm, each one catching the light differently, each unmistakably shaped to fit one of the waiting keyholes.

He took a deep breath. Everything had led to this one moment.

One by one, he slotted the gems into their respective keyholes.

The first gem settled in with a muted click. Light traced the seams of the chest, then faded inward as the lock disengaged.

The second followed. A deeper resonance answered it, the runes along the lid briefly flaring before dimming again.

The third gem slid into place last.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then all three chests reacted at once.

Stone groaned softly beneath their feet as the lids unlocked in unison, mechanisms long dormant stirring back to life.

The chests opened—not dramatically or violently, but weighty nonetheless

Inside each rested a single book.

No ornamentation or fancy cover, just three Technique Books.

They glowed in his palms faintly, almost like reacting to their owner.

"So…these were the final prizes after all."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.