After the long conversation, the air between the trio settled into a quiet rhythm. The artificial stars above flickered like the real ones once did, long before cities reached the edge of the sky.
Everett leaned forward, curiosity rising through the stillness.
"So…" he asked, "What are your plans now? For the future, I mean."
Guruji did not respond at once. He stared into the stars as if reading ancient scripts only he could decipher.
Then, with a voice thick with twilight and omen, he said:
"In these times, you and I are familiar.
So fate follows you.
Where you go… time ripples.
Where I go… prophecy unfolds.
Thus, we shall go together, where threads unravel."
Everett blinked. "So… you're not leaving?"
Guruji raised one cryptic eyebrow. "The universe is vast. But your drama is more entertaining."
Gloria rolled her eyes but smiled warmly. "We've known each other for so long. Fought through frost, suns, and broken skies. Why stop now?"
She turned to Everett.
"We'll keep traveling, training, getting stronger. Maybe even figure out what life means on the way. You're not shaking us off that easily."
Everett chuckled. "Then… let's meet again tomorrow."
The three of them exchanged a look. A simple smile. Not magical, not world-breaking—just genuine. Something precious in a world where centuries vanished like breath on glass.
---
As Everett returned to his room, silence followed him. Yet his mind was far from quiet.
He lay on his bed, arms folded beneath his head, eyes drifting toward the ceiling.
Nalanda.
The name echoed like a heartbeat.
That place had meant so much. And now… he didn't even know where it was. Whether it had survived the 2800-year gap? Had it been erased by time?
He remembered faces, sounds, laughter. A fire in the frost. And now? Only questions.
Time, he thought, was never just a gift. It's a curse too.
As the thought circled his mind, something shifted.
His eyes pulsed.
He blinked—and time moved.
No… not moved.
Unfolded.
He gasped. His vision blurred… then refocused. And suddenly, he could see it. A faint golden echo trailing from every object, person, or place. Like ghostly afterimages drifting backward.
I can see time.
Or more specifically: the past.
The spark of an idea formed.
What if I made an ability?
A skill that lets me witness the history of places, of people… maybe even Nalanda?
He didn't know if such a thing was possible. But he knew what he had.
Chrono-Strain Eyes. A mystery tied to the deepest laws of time.
And he had will.
That was enough.
As night deepened, a strange feeling tugged at Everett's chest.
He stood.
And with a mere thought, he vanished.
---
He reappeared atop the highest hill of Ganso Capital. The city below shimmered with ancient bioluminescent structures, grown organically over time. But Everett wasn't here for the city.
He was here… for the mountain.
And the beast that waited beneath.
From the horizon came a deep rumble. The earth trembled.
Then—a screech. Deep, metallic, volcanic.
Dust billowed into the air, and from it emerged a colossal form: the Ash-Storm Mammoth.
Sixteen legs thundered against the ground. Twenty lava-lit eyes burned with awareness. Molten rock flowed like blood across its armored skin. It was no longer just a summoned creature.
It was alive.
Behind it, nearly a hundred smaller mammoths followed—its descendants. Born in the frost realm, tempered by centuries, nurtured into their own sentient race.
All of them Tier-One in aura—Mystery Apprentice class. But their leader… was something more.
Tier Two. A true Mystery Master. The result of thousands of years of evolution.
Everett smiled and reached out—not with orders, but with his mind.
The Ash-Storm Mammoth responded.
No words. Just understanding.
You have changed, Everett thought. You're not just a summon anymore.
A pause.
You are… a friend.
---
Later, Everett sat upon the mammoth's volcanic back, gazing out at the Isles of the Eight Tribes. These once-fledgling tribes had grown, stabilized, and reached the peak of Tier One Mystery Apprentices. Their chieftains stood as symbols of hope, guardians of ancient culture.
Yet… not one of them had crossed into Tier Two.
There was a bottleneck. An invisible wall. A limitation that no amount of training had overcome.
Was it a flaw in their class? In the world? Or perhaps… in him?
Everett didn't know.
But he would find out.
He thought of the 36 Demon Houses scattered around the surrounding sea.
Each was guarded by a powerful demon beast. Twelve had already reached Tier Two—dubbed Heaven Demon Beasts, creatures of such might that they altered local climates just by existing.
The world had changed.
But Everett had only just begun.
As he watched the night sky—streaked by nebulae and artificial satellites—he made a quiet vow:
"I will master this time.
I will walk the forgotten paths.
And I will find Nalanda…
no matter what century it's buried in."