The black eyes fluttered open.

The entire tomb chamber fell instantly dead silent. Surya froze in place. The corpse bearing his exact face now stared straight at him—gaze hollow, devoid of emotion, yet carrying a profound depth that felt as though it could pierce straight through his soul.

Dimas scrambled backward, trembling. "Is... is he alive?"

Mr. Yusuf gripped his wooden staff tight. "Impossible..."

No breath. No pulse of life. Yet those eyes were unmistakably open.

Slowly... the corpse raised its right hand. The motion was stiff, like an aging puppet. Then, its index finger pointed squarely at Surya's chest. A seed of black light blossomed at the tip of its finger.

The Relic screamed inside his mind, "Do not resist!"

Before Surya could even ask—the world around him dissolved into stark white. No explosion. No pain. Only an overwhelming radiance swallowing everything whole.

When Surya finally forced his eyes open... the Tomb of a Thousand Kings had vanished.

All that remained was an expansive white plain. White skies. White ground. Endless and horizonless. No shadows existed here.

Dimas, Rina, Mr. Yusuf, and the other surviving members stood not far away, expressions etched with identical confusion.

"What happened?"

"We were just in the tomb."

Surya shook his head slowly. "I don't know either."

Yet the Relic answered instantly. "The trial has begun."

Before they could even process the words, twelve golden beams of light cascaded from the heavens. Each beam morphed into a figure draped in white robes. They stood tall, their faces obscured by expressionless stone masks. Hovering behind their backs were halos woven with ancient, luminous symbols.

Not a single soul uttered a sound. Yet the crushing pressure radiating from them forced every survivor to drop instinctively to their knees.

Surya gritted his teeth, his entire frame shaking. He fought to stay upright, though his legs felt ready to buckle.

A heavy voice reverberated from every direction:

"The trial commences."

"All heirs."

"All survivors."

"Shall now be judged."

Dimas turned pale. "Judged?"

Surya's mind raced. Who are they?

The Relic answered, as if reading his thoughts. "The Ancient Wardens. They have maintained the balance of the Shadow World since the age of the kings."

One of the Wardens stepped forward, raising a stone staff tipped with blinding white light.

"Rules of the Trial," the Warden's voice droned flatly. "No violence."

"No escape."

"And..." The staff swept toward the gathered survivors. "A single lie..."

"Means death."

The declaration made everyone swallow hard. The white floor suddenly trembled. Twelve circles of light materialized, trapping each survivor inside a separate ring.

Surya realized immediately: they were being isolated. No one could reach another.

"The trial begins."

The first Warden locked eyes with a male survivor who had remained mostly quiet throughout their journey. "What is your name?"

The man answered nervously, "Arif."

The Warden's staff flared. A few seconds passed, then dimmed. "No lie."

The next question followed. "Have you ever taken a human life?"

Arif shook his head instantly. "No."

Silence. The staff glowed once more.

Only this time... the radiance shifted to a blistering red.

Surya's eyes widened. Panic seized Arif. "I... I..."

Before he could offer an explanation—his body locked up solid. White cracks fractured across his skin.

"P-please..."

Crash!

Arif's body shattered into a cloud of fine dust.

Everyone froze. There were no second chances. A single lie meant instant death.

Rina began to weep softly. Dimas turned ghost-white. "What if we misremember something?"

The question left Surya silent. Right. What if someone forgot a detail? Wouldn't that still be treated as a lie?

The Relic whispered, "The trial reads the soul. Not the words."

One by one, the survivors were called.

Mr. Yusuf.

"Do you regret your family?"

Mr. Yusuf answered weakly, "I... can no longer even picture my wife's face."

The staff remained white. The answer was accepted.

Rina was called next.

"Do you wish to return to your world?"

Tears streamed down her face. "Yes."

The staff remained white.

All their answers were validated. Until finally... it was Surya's turn.

His circle of light slid to the center. All twelve Ancient Wardens turned their gaze toward him simultaneously. The atmosphere grew heavier, suffocatingly dense.

The leading Warden stepped forward. "Your name."

Surya parted his lips. "Surya."

The staff glowed white. "Proceed."

"Your family lineage."

Surya fell silent. That question... should have been simple. Yet... he had no answer. The Gate of Sacrifice had stripped away every single recollection of his kin.

Surya lowered his head. "I..."

"I don't remember."

Everyone watched him. The staff flared.

White. It did not shift to red.

Surya let out a held breath.

The Warden pressed on. "Who is your father?"

Surya closed his eyes. Blank. Utterly empty. "I don't know."

The staff remained white.

And now, Surya understood. His curse... had actually saved him. If he had tried to force an answer, he would have died. But because his memories were genuinely gone, answering "I don't know" was the absolute truth.

The Relic whispered softly, "Your curse strips away your memories. But lost memories cannot be judged as falsehoods."

Surya clenched his fists. For the first time... he felt that the curse wasn't entirely a bad thing.

The next question brought total silence back to the plain. "Are you the Heir of the Ash King?"

Surya raised his head. Every Warden stared at him. Dimas, trapped far across the plain, looked frantic with worry.

Surya knew... lying was pointless. "Yes."

The staff remained white.

The entire assembly of Wardens exchanged glances. Their auras shifted. Not with anger. Not with shock. But with... sorrow.

The leading Warden slowly raised his head. The stone mask cracked slightly along its edge. The voice that emerged was infinitely heavier this time:

"So..."

"The Legacy..."

"Still chooses a mortal."

Surya furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

No answer. Instead, all twelve Ancient Wardens raised their staffs in unison. Twelve rings of light blazed across the sky. The entire trial chamber shuddered.

Then... they spoke as one. Twelve voices fusing into a single entity, echoing across the vast white plain:

"Not the kings..."

"Not the monsters..."

"Not the guardians..."

"Instead..."

They turned their collective gaze toward the survivors. The looks hidden behind those stone masks felt freezing cold.

Before uttering the sentence that made Surya's blood run ice-cold:

"You..."

"...are the Legacy Thieves."