The white light slowly settled, and the last shimmering particles of it faded into the air of the Founders’ Hall.
Daniel, with his usual calmness, stepped out of the light and stood on the cold, ancient stones of the hall. As if he had simply walked from one room to another, not returned from a trial whose true nature no one had understood for thousands of years.
But around him... no sound could be heard.
All the senior professors, Supreme Council members, Varcas, Serys, Lioran, and even the ancient guardian of the trial, Azreon, were just staring at him.
Not because of his aura, not because of his power, but because of that unknown rune that had replaced all the numbers on the trial’s pillar.
A rune that was recorded in no book, and not even one of the tower’s archaeologist professors could find the slightest resemblance between it and any ancient language.
"What... language is this...?" One of the elderly professors muttered under his breath.
"It’s no language I know..." Another answered in disbelief.
In fact, that rune belonged to one of the primordial languages. The first languages capable of carrying mana power, or practically magic itself.
In the current era, no one knows this language, simply because it was lost tens of thousands of years ago.
But it wouldn’t be wrong to say that among all runic languages, this is the best version, because it was created directly by the spells themselves.
The tower leader had also fallen silent. After hearing that something had happened to the trial, he had come here.
His gaze shifted between the stone pillar and Daniel, but in his usual calm face, for the first time, a trace of doubt could be seen.
At that moment... a dry, sharp sound, like the breaking of a massive bone, echoed through the hall.
Crack...
Then again.
Crack... crack...
Everyone involuntarily turned around. The sound of breaking was coming from behind the trial’s gate. On a wall that had not even a scratch on it for a thousand years, the first crack appeared.
A thin crack...
Like the root of a tree spreading beneath the earth’s surface, that crack raced across the entire surface of the gate.
A few moments later... dozens more cracks appeared.
The ancient runes carved on the walls went out one by one.
The blue light that had flowed through the stone grooves for thousands of years went out; as if the heart of the hall had stopped beating.
All the surrounding columns began to tremble. Dust fell from the ceiling. The ground beneath everyone’s feet shook with a deep tremor.
One of the professors, who had lost his balance, shouted in horror:
"Impossible...!"
His gaze darted between the cracks on the gate.
"The trial... is collapsing!"
Everyone stepped back a few paces. Even the Supreme Council members unconsciously distanced themselves.
Only one person ran forward... Azreon.
The old man, with a speed no one expected from his aged body, reached the gate.
He placed the palms of both hands on the cracked stone. Golden runes on his robe lit up. His mana rushed toward the gate like a massive river.
But... nothing happened.
His efforts were useless. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did, no matter how far he pushed, the efforts were futile, and the trial continued to be destroyed.
Azreon closed his eyes, sending all his consciousness into the depths of the trial.
A few seconds passed, and then... his hands trembled slightly.
His mana went out, and the old man stepped back. His face, always calm and unreadable, had now lost its color from disbelief.
His lips moved with difficulty.
"...Nothing remains."
"What do you mean?" One of the Supreme Council members stepped forward worriedly.
Azreon still stared at the gate. His eyes seemed to see something others couldn’t.
"The spells... are all gone."
Several professors exchanged disbelieving glances, and one of them said:
"That’s natural. The trial is over." It was always the case that when the trial ended, the spells disappeared and wouldn’t return until it started again.
They just needed to understand what had happened to these runes and why they had collapsed.
But Azreon slowly shook his head.
"No... the spells didn’t return to wherever they were." He took a quiet, deep breath.
"I... can no longer sense the presence of even one of them." He placed his hand on his chest.
"For centuries... I heard their voices every moment. I felt every small change inside the trial."
"But now... there’s nothing." The old man’s voice trembled slightly. He was silent for a few seconds, then said quietly:
"As if all of them... left the trial." His gaze fixed on Daniel.
Everyone fell into shock. No one spoke. Even breathing had become difficult for a moment.
If the spells had left the trial... if the trial had been destroyed... did that mean the tower had lost one of its greatest foundations?
The greatest reason they had built the tower in the middle of nowhere in the first place? Just gone?
"Is... such a thing even possible?" One of the professors asked with a trembling voice.
They knew that if this news was true, what a disaster it would be for them. It could shake the entire foundation of the tower.
Azreon didn’t take his gaze off Daniel and nodded quietly.
"No. It shouldn’t be possible." Everyone unconsciously turned to Daniel.
Dozens of gazes... simultaneously fixed on him.
Daniel just stood there. No different aura could be seen around him, no wave of mana, no sign of a thousand spells.
But... everyone felt that something in him had changed.
They weren’t fools. Most of them were humans who had lived for centuries and had reached the ranks of Divine Mage and Heavenly Mage.
Especially Azreon. He was a Heavenly King. Of course he could see what was happening.
Serys suddenly held her breath. Her eyes widened in surprise. Her gaze shifted between Daniel and the gate.
It’s impossible, right? It’s impossible that what she’s thinking actually happened, right?
"...They came with Daniel." Then she said under her breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.
No one objected. There was no other explanation. And otherwise, it was impossible for the spells to be destroyed or suddenly disappear.
Varcas let out a short, bitter laugh and ran his hand over his forehead.
"I thought at most Lioran’s record would be broken..." He looked at the collapsing gate.
"Not that the trial itself would be broken."
"So... what about future generations?" One of the professors asked anxiously.
No one answered.
"The Trial of a Thousand Spells no longer exists?" He asked again, louder.
His question echoed through the hall, but there was no answer. The tower leader just looked at the gate.
Neither angry nor worried. Just deeply lost in thought. Even he didn’t know how to deal with such a situation.
On the other side of the hall... Lioran was still silent. But this time, his usual calm smile could no longer be seen on his face.
For the first time, he was examining Daniel with all his being.
Not as a genius, not as a rival, but as a phenomenon that had questioned all known laws.
"...What exactly are you?" Only one sentence repeated in his mind, and he felt that perhaps he should be worried.
Azreon slowly stepped away from the gate. His steps were heavier than ever.
He stood before Daniel. His old eyes, which had witnessed the entry and exit of countless mages for thousands of years, were now full of disbelief.
A faint smile settled on his lips.
"I... was the guardian of this place for centuries. My whole life, I thought I was protecting the trial." He slowly turned and looked at the cracked gate.
A piece of the massive stone broke off and fell to the ground, its sound echoing through the hall.
"But today I realized I was wrong." Azreon whispered quietly.
"The spells themselves decided to go with you, didn’t they?"
"Yes. Anyway, I can’t force them, right?" Daniel answered with a smile. It was better to tell the truth in this situation than to lie.
Several professors unconsciously held their breath. The spells had decided of their own will to live with this boy! What did that mean?
Azreon continued:
"So the spells weren’t imprisoned here... they weren’t living here. They were just... waiting. Waiting for someone who could become their new home."
At that moment... the last rune on the gate went out. Its light, like a candle burning for thousands of years, quietly faded away.
The entire massive gate trembled.
Then... silently collapsed.
No explosion occurred, no wave of mana was released. The ancient stones, one by one, turned into shimmering particles and scattered in the air.
As if they had never existed at all.
But contrary to everyone’s expectations, with the destruction of the gate, no feeling of devastation lingered in the space.
On the contrary, the hall’s air felt lighter. Breathing became easier. As if something very heavy, which had cast a shadow over this place for thousands of years, had finally let go.
Azreon, watching the light particles slowly disappear into the air, smiled very gently.
"So..." His voice was no longer sad, but carried a strange peace.
"The Trial of a Thousand Spells was not destroyed. Its mission... has come to an end."
Daniel said nothing, but for a moment, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.
A voice... not from one, but from a thousand beings, all laughing together.
"Our new home..."
Several other voices continued with satisfaction.
"Not bad."
Daniel chuckled, while he was dealing with a very complex situation, the spells were inspecting their new home.