"You... are the Legacy Thieves."

The unified voice of the twelve Ancient Wardens reverberated with such sheer force that the entire white chamber trembled. Surya froze. And he wasn't the only one—every surviving member stared at the Wardens with faces plastered in utter confusion.

Legacy Thieves? What on earth did that mean? Weren't they dragged into the Shadow World against their will without ever asking for any of this? Why were they being branded as thieves?

Surya parted his lips. "What is it that we stole?"

Yet no answer came. The twelve Ancient Wardens slowly raised their staffs. The halos of light hovering behind their backs spun with escalating velocity. And then... the entire white domain began to fracture. Crack after crack spiderwebbed across the sky, as though the world itself were breaking apart.

The Relic whispered directly into his mind. "The trial has concluded."

"I didn't get my answers."

"It is not yet time."

Always the same cryptic response. Surya could only let out a heavy breath.

The next second, every single fracture flashed with blinding radiance. Once again, all the survivors lost consciousness.

When Surya cracked his eyes open... he was no longer inside the Tomb of a Thousand Kings.

The air felt warm. A gentle breeze brushed past his skin. Before him stretched an exceedingly long cobblestone road. Yet something felt fundamentally different. For the first time since stepping foot into the Shadow World... he caught the rich aroma of food.

Freshly baked bread. Sizzling roasted meat. Even the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.

Surya pushed himself up instantly. Dimas and the others were beginning to stir as well.

"Did we..."

"Did we make it out?" Mr. Yusuf surveyed his surroundings. "Where is this?"

At the very end of the road stood massive city walls—far grander and more magnificent than either the Stone City or the City Without a Sun. The stone blocks gleamed a pale grayish-white, choked with cascading green ivy. Atop the ramparts fluttered banners emblazoned with the emblem of a black tree woven with golden roots.

The Relic vibrated softly. "The Last City."

Surya repeated the name quietly in his heart. For some inexplicable reason... the name sounded deeply desolate.

They walked toward the open city gates. Unlike all the previous settlements they had encountered, these gates stood wide open. No guards. No fortifications. No traps. It was as though everyone was simply invited to walk right in.

Yet that very lack of defense only made Surya’s instincts flare with caution.

The moment they crossed the threshold, they were struck dumb with amazement. Life was unfolding vibrantly inside the city. Children chased each other through the streets. Merchants flung open their stalls. Blacksmiths hammered glowing steel. Farmers carted in fresh harvests. Musicians strummed instruments along the corners. A bustling, lively atmosphere permeated the air.

If not for the ever-present gray sky of the Shadow World, Surya might have genuinely believed he had somehow returned to his home world.

"There's actual life here..." Rina whispered, tears welling in her eyes. It had been so agonizingly long since they had laid eyes on anything resembling normalcy.

Several residents ambled past them. All of them looked healthy, carrying no weapons, their faces wreathed in easy smiles.

Yet... one jarring detail made Surya furrow his brow. They didn't look old. Nor did they look young. Their ages seemed permanently frozen in place.

"Excuse me." Surya intercepted a man carrying a wicker basket of fruit.

The man turned around, offering a friendly, relaxed smile. "A newcomer?"

"Yeah."

"Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"How long have you lived in this city?"

The man paused for a brief beat, reflecting. "Forgotten."

"Forgotten?"

"Maybe..." He chuckled lightly. "Two thousand years."

Surya froze. "What?"

The man gave a light laugh. "Or maybe three thousand. I honestly lost count." And with that, he strolled off without a care in the world.

Dimas swallowed hard. "He's joking, right?"

The Relic answered flatly, "He is not."

Surya whipped his head around. "Meaning?"

"The inhabitants of the Last City... cannot die."

Everyone fell utterly silent.

Moments later, they witnessed a small child trip and tumble hard from a low rooftop.

Bam!

The sickening crack of bone snapping echoed clearly through the street. Rina shrieked, "That kid!"

Yet... a few seconds later, the fractured bones violently snapped back into alignment. The wounds vanished. The child climbed back to his feet, brushed the dust off his clothes, and bolted away with a laugh to rejoin his friends—acting as though nothing had happened at all.

Mr. Yusuf turned ghost-white. "Those people... aren't human."

The Relic corrected him. "They are human. But they have lost death."

Surya frowned. "Lost death?"

"They cannot truly live. But..."

"...neither can they die."

The clarification cast an even heavier shadow over the atmosphere.

For the next several hours, Surya observed the city's inhabitants. They worked. They joked. They cooked. Yet... not a single person looked genuinely happy. Their eyes were vacant. Their smiles felt forced and hollow, as though their entire existence had devolved into a mechanical routine endlessly repeated over thousands of years.

In a quiet park, Surya spotted an elderly man sitting entirely by himself, staring blankly at the overcast sky without blinking.

"How long have you been here?" Surya asked gently.

The old man offered a weary, fragile smile. "During the first thousand years... I still kept count."

"By the second thousand..."

"I started forgetting."

"By the third thousand..."

"I stopped caring."

He closed his eyes. "And now, I simply wait."

"Wait for what?"

The old man locked his gaze onto Surya. "For the one who can put an end to all of this."

Surya fell silent. Before he could press further, a massive bell tolled across the city.

GONG...

GONG...

GONG...

The entire city plunged into absolute stillness.

Every single resident halted their activities mid-motion. Merchants abandoned their wares. Blacksmiths lowered their hammers. Children stopped playing.

And then... they all turned their heads to face Surya.

Dimas broke out in a cold sweat. "Why are they looking at you?"

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

One step. Then two.

The entire population began walking toward them. Hundreds. Then thousands. They choked the streets of the city. No one spoke. No one brandished a weapon. They simply walked forward in a silent tide.

Surya's heart hammered frantically against his ribs. "Relic... what is happening?"

Even the Relic offered no response.

The silence grew suffocatingly dense. Until finally... an elderly woman stepped out from the vanguard of the crowd. Her hair was stark white and long, her frame bent with age, yet her eyes blazed with piercing clarity.

She halted directly in front of Surya, dropping her gaze to the Soul Sigil stamped across his palm.

And then... tears began to spill down her cheeks.

With a trembling, broken voice, she whispered:

"At last..."

"The Promised One has arrived."

Before Surya could utter a single question—the old woman dropped to her knees.

Behind her, the elderly man followed suit. Then the children. The merchants. The blacksmiths. The soldiers.

Within the span of a heartbeat... the entire population of the Last City mirrored the action. Thousands of people knelt in unison before Surya, bowing their heads in profound, reverent submission.

While Surya could only stand frozen, utterly bewildered, unable to comprehend why an entire city was prostrating itself at his feet.