Kenneth walked through the garden at the Fireon estate, his footsteps slow and aimless. It had been a week since the incident, and still felt the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on his chest.

After the incident, he’d been brought to the Fireon estate because no one could wake him. During that time, he developed a fever. Now that he was finally conscious, he found himself restless, unable to sit still for long.

Yet, even as he wandered, his thoughts circled the same overwhelming feelings—the thought he might have died, the immense responsibility on his shoulders, and the swirling doubts in his chest.

Eventually, his steps led him to a tree—a sapling of the Tree of Life. Its soft glow offered a strange comfort, a reminder of the fragile balance he was trying so hard to protect. He sat beneath it, gazing up at the clear blue sky.

The stillness felt like both a balm and a reminder of his longing. I miss home.

It was strange to think that the mundane routine he’d once found in the mortal world so dull now seemed like something to yearn for. Back then, everything was predictable. He knew what to expect. Even if life felt repetitive, there had been a sense of stability and luxury of looking forward to the future.

But now? Awakening the fire magic felt like opening Pandora’s box. Every step forward felt like teetering on the edge of the precipice, knowing one wrong move could send everything spiraling.

Unbeknownst to him, Salem had been watching from a distance. Ever since he joined the academy, he had noticed how different Kenneth was—quieter, more withdrawn—so unlike the confident leader Salem had looked up to their world. Seeing Kenneth like this now, Salem realized just how much weight he had been carrying all along.

After a moment of hesitation, Salem took a deep breath and stepped forward, settling down beside Kenneth under the shade of the tree.

Kenneth was lost in thought that he didn't notice Salem until he was seated next to him. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the rustling leaves overhead. Salem didn't rush to speak. Instead, he let the quiet linger, knowing words needed space to settle.

Eventually, Salem broke the silence. “You know,” Salem began, his tone soft, “up until now, I haven’t told you how lucky I feel to have ended up in this world with you.”

Kenneth glanced at him, startled.

Salem gave a small smile and began growing an iris with his magic, the petals blooming in vibrant color. He set the flower down in front of Kenneth.

“When I first came to the school, I didn’t know where I fit,” Salem said. “But then I saw you.”

Kenneth blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah. You were the student president and I found you confident and composed. You made it look so easy. I thought, ‘If I could just be a little like him, maybe I’d find my place here.’ That’s why I joined the student council. Why I wanted to be the first-year representative.”

Kenneth frowned, his gaze dropping. “You really thought that about me?”

“Of course,” Salem said with a soft laugh. “But as I got to know you, I realized something else. You weren’t just some untouchable role model. You worked hard, cared too much, and carried more than you should. You inspired me—not because you were perfect, but because you showed me what it meant to try.”

“And then, by the time you brought me to that tree…” Salem trailed off. “You trusted yourself enough to figure out a way to inherit the Ultimate Plant. Seeing you handle it without doubting yourself—it showed me just how strong you really are.”

Salem paused, then added with a gentle smile, “It made me realized something else, too. If you can trust yourself with something like that, then maybe it's time you trust the people around you the same way.”

Kenneth stared at Salem, his throat tightening.

Salem picked up the iris and placed it in Kenneth's lap. “It’s my turn to remind you of something. You’re not alone, Kenneth. You’ve never been alone. There are people who look up to you, who trust, who want to be there for you. Me included.”

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Kenneth stared at the flower, his grip tightening.

“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” Salem said gently. “It’s okay to let us support you, too. Because, just like you taught me, we’re better when we lean on each other.”

Kenneth tilted his head back, covering his eyes with his hands. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill.

Ah, right… I ended up like this because I’ve been unconsciously trying to prove my worth to everyone.

Hearing Salem’s words, something shifted. Maybe it wasn’t just about proving himself. Maybe it was about learning to trust the people around him, to let them share the weight he’d been carrying for so long.

And for the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe a little easier.

＊＊＊

A man in his late-twenties stood before the gates of the palace grounds, dressed in simple clothing with a worn rucksack slung over his back. His unassuming appearance drew curious glances from the royal guards stationed at the entrance.

To them, he looked like just another Commoner—a rare sight so close to the palace.

As he approached the gate, one of the guards stepped forward. “State your business. No unauthorized entry.”

The man tilted his head slightly, seemingly unfazed by the guard's authoritative stance. “Haven't they been informed of my return?” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

The guard exchanged uncertain glances. The man's calm demeanor and cryptic words didn't match his plain appearance. One guard, growing suspicious, tightened his grip on his spear. “Who are you, and what business do you have here?”

Before the man could respond, the sound of approaching hooves filled the air. A carriage, flanked by a knight on horseback, rolled up to the palace gates. The knight dismounted smoothly, his armor catching the light as he strode towards the young man and the guards.

“Knight Cedric!” The guards immediately straightened and bowed in respect.

Cedric gave them a brief nod before turning his attention to the man before him. “This person is a guest of the palace,” he announced firmly. “He is permitted to enter.”

The guards exchanged wide-eyed looks but stepped back without question, the weight of Cedric's authority clear.

Cedric then turned to the young man, his expression softening into a warm smile. “It's been a while, Edmund.”

The young man returned the smile, his tone casual. “Twelve years? Sounds about right.”

Cedric gestured toward the carriage behind him. “Hop in. Your family are expecting you.”

Edmund raised an eyebrow, glancing at the luxurious carriage. “A carriage, really? You could've just bought me a horse.”

Cedric chuckled. “Courtesy demands it. But next time, horseback it is.”

The guards, still standing nearby, watched the exchange with stunned expressions.

Knight Cedric Gairos—the Commander of Royal Guards and the eldest son of the Earth Guardian—was speaking to this man as if they were old friends.

As Edmund climbed into the carriage, Cedric mounted his horse once more, offering the guards a curt nod before signalling for the gates to open.

The guards could only watch in silence as the carriage disappeared into the palace grounds, their curiosity growing. Who exactly is this man to warrant such deference from Knight Cedric himself?

Inside the carriage, Edmund leaned back against the seat, his attention momentarily drifting to the passing scenery. A sharp knock at the carriage window pulled him from thoughts. Sliding open, he found Cedric riding alongside, his horse keeping pace with the carriage.

“Why are you in such a state? I barely didn't recognize you,” Cedric called, his voice tinged with concern.

Edmunc gave a wry smile. “I was robbed on my way here.”

Cedric's expression darkened. “Robbed? Where?”

“Just outside the eastern border,” Edmund replied.

Cedric sighed heavily, shaking his head. “That region's been unstable for years. You should have sent word ahead. We could have sent escorts.”

“And draw more attention to myself? No thanks.” Edmund said with a shrug.

“Wait—don't tell me you walked all the way to Anterthon?” Cedric asked, incredulous.

Edmund nodded, a small, amused smile on his face. “Took me a week.”

Cedric smirked. “You haven't changed a bit.”

“Maybe not,” Edmund replied with a chuckle. Then, changing the subject, he asked. “Have you met the Fireon successor yet?”

Cedric shook his head. “Not personally. I haven't seen him since he was admitted to Mageia Academy. My brother knows him, though. They met and became close friends during the dispatch to the mortal world.”

“Mortal world, huh?” Edmund mused, his tone unreadable.

“By the way,” Cedric continued, glancing at him, “why did you come back? I thought you planned to stay out of the kingdom for good.”

Edmund leaned back against the carriage seat. “Headmaster Nero requested my return. And now that fire magic has reawakened, my sister-in-law is pushing to bring Fireon back into the public eye. I need to reason with her about it.”

Cedric raised an eyebrow. “So you're against the idea of that kid becoming the next head of the family?”

Edmund sighed, his gaze distant. “I don't know yet. That's why I'm here—to see him for myself.”

I need to know if he's truly worthy of leading our family.