Everyone was now on their feet as Noah prepared to approach the crystal. Each of them silently wished, hoped, that he would be the chosen one. If he were, it would mean that their efforts and suffering had not been in vain. It would also reaffirm that they could always trust Esther’s instincts.Not only that, it would mean the crystal had not merely toyed with them, but had tested their strength to find someone truly worthy of the power within. It would also mean that Ramsay had been wrong.Yet the chance of Noah being the chosen one was slim. Even though they hoped for it—simply because he was the last—the crystal might still reject him, just as it had the others. It could manipulate him, play with him, crush him. If that happened, everything Ramsay had warned them about would be proven true.The fate of everyone now depended on Noah being the chosen one. If he were not, they would lose the power within the crystal—the only force capable of defeating Marcelos. Perhaps, then, every li

Esther held the crystal in her hands, turning it slowly as if testing its weight and shape. Sunlight filtered through the trees, glinting off its polished surface, and she could feel it—not just as a gemstone, but as a vessel of immense and incomprehensible power. Even after its link with Noah, the memory of its strength lingered like a faint pulse beneath her fingertips. She allowed herself a small smile, glad to see the joy on everyone else’s faces. After all their trials, the crystal was finally in their hands.To the others—including Noah—the crystal appeared ordinary. The moment it had finished speaking with him, its consciousness seemed to vanish, leaving nothing behind but a smooth, cold stone. The mind and will that had challenged, tested, and chosen were gone, invisible to anyone else.Noah alone understood what had truly happened. The crystal now rested in his possession, safely kept in the chamber he had claimed. Its presence was familiar, yet it carried a weight no one co

Silence swept through the entire castle, pressing down on the grand hall and spilling onto the balcony. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Every eye was fixed on Ramsay. Every ear strained toward him. They waited—not just for words, but for direction, for certainty, for something to anchor their resolve.Ramsay looked down at the army gathered below. At the sheer number of them. For a moment, he closed his eyes and drew in a slow, steady breath, feeling the cold morning air fill his chest. When he opened them again, his gaze was calm, grounded—and when he spoke, his voice did not waver.He began, “If someone had told me years ago that the responsibility of saving mankind—of restoring everything that has been lost—would fall on me and my family, I would have called it a lie.”His voice carried easily, firm but honest. He continued, “We were just kids only trying to grow. Trying to live. Waiting for the day we would come of age and inherit our kingdoms after the passing of our rul