As the school holiday began, Kenneth and Joash found themselves settling into a more comfortable rhythm, after working together on cases for their club. The tension that had once defined their relationship seemed to have eased, at least on the surface.

  As the grand gate of the palace came into view, Joash broke the silence with a smirk. “So Kenneth, should I start calling you Brother, now? Or would that make things even more awkward?”

  Kenneth blinked, startled by the sudden question. “Brother?” he repeated, unsure if Joash was joking or serious.

  Joash's smirk faded slightly as he looked away, almost as if regretting the comment. “Forget it,” he muttered. “I was just trying to be—never mind.”

  Kenneth hesitated before responding. “No, it's okay. I just… I didn't expect you to say that.”

  Joash glanced at him briefly, his expression softening. “Maybe it's my way of getting used to this… whatever this is,” he said, gesturing vaguely between them. “We're stuck with each other now, right?”

  Kenneth chuckled softly. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

  The carriage came to a halt. The driver hopped down, opening the door to reveal the sprawling courtyard of the Fireon estate. Standing in the center was Salem, his face lighting up the moment he spotted them.

  “Kenneth!” Salem's shout echoed as he dashed toward the carriage, barely waiting for Kenneth to step out before throwing his arms around him in an exuberant hug.

  “Woah, Salem!” Kenneth laughed, patting him on the back. “It's good to see you too.”

  Standing nearby were Fintan and Dr. Mir, their presence commanding immediate attention.

  Joash, usually relaxed, straightened slightly as his gaze fell on his mother. He approached her with deliberate steps, his posture stiff but respectful.

  Fintan's expression softened briefly as she pulled Joash into a warm but fleeting embrace. When she turned her sharp, appraising eyes toward Kenneth, her demeanor shifted, and the weight of her presence settled heavily on him.

  “You've finally pestered the Ultimate Fire,” Fintan remarked, her voice carrying the weight of expectation.

  Kenneth nodded, his gaze steady, though he couldn't shake the heavy responsibility that came with her words. “I'm still learning,” he admitted. “There's a lot I don't understand yet, but I'm doing my best.”

  Fintan's expression softened just slightly, though her sharpness never fully left. “Good,” she said simply, her tone neither approved nor dismissive.

  Suddenly, Salem stepped forward, his usual exuberance replaced by an unexpected seriousness. “Kenneth,” he said, his voice steady but firm. “I want to inherit magic.”

  The declaration caught everyone's attention. Kenneth turned to him, startled, while Dr. Mir stepped closer, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Salem has been quite the eager student, wanting to inherit magic to help further” he explained. “He's been waiting for your return to make his choice.”

  Kenneth studied Salem carefully, the gravity of the situation settling between them. Salem was no longer the carefree junior he had known. His determination was clear, but Kenneth couldn't ignore the weight of what Salem was asking.

  “Salem,” he began, his voice calm but serious, “you understand what this means, right? Once you inherit magic, there's no going back. You'll no longer be mortal—your life will change permanently.”

  Salem met Kenneth's gaze unwaveringly, a maturity in his expression that took Kenneth by surprise. “I've thought about it,” Salem replied. “Ever since we ended up in this world, I've watched you adapt so quickly, Kenneth. You've grown stronger, taken on responsibilities… I don't want to be left behind. I want to stand by your side and contribute. That's why I made this choice.”

  For a moment, Kenneth said nothing, his chest tightening with both pride and concern. Salem had always been spirited, but now there was a deeper strength behind his words.

  Slowly, a soft smile broke across Kenneth's face. He reached out, ruffling Salem's hair in the same familiar way he used to back in school. “You've really grown, Salem,” Kenneth said. “If this is what you want, I'll support you.”

  Joash leaned over with a grin, nudging Salem. “Congrats! So, what magic are you thinking of inheriting? Healing magic like Dr. Mir?”

  Salem shook his head. “No, I want to inherit plant magic.”

  Fintan tilted her head thoughtfully. “Then we'll need to contact the Cassia family to arrange the inheritance ceremony.”

  Dr. Mir, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward. “Fintan, perhaps I should make the request. If the Head of the Fireon family personally asks for the ceremony, it might draw too much attention.”

  Kenneth glanced between them, intrigued but also slightly overwhelming.

  In this world, the inheritance of magic was more than a personal choice—it was a legacy deeply rooted in history and tradition. The Ultimate Elements had been bestowed upon chosen families by the First King and his descendants, passed down through generations, either by bloodline or through the formal inheritance ceremony.

  These ceremonies weren't just rituals; they were a testament to the balance and sovereignty of the families trusted with the elemental magic.

  Dr. Mir's concerns were valid. For someone of Fintan's stature to make such a request could be seen as a political move. The families, each fiercely protective of their inherited elemental magic, were wary of outside interference—even from a family as influential as the Fireons.

  Requesting plant magic from the Cassia Family meant treading carefully.

  But Fintan, ever resolute, dismissed the hesitation. “Salem is an adopted member of the Fireon family now,” she said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. “It's my responsibility to ensure his inheritance ceremony is properly arranged. I will not delegate this duty.”

  Her gaze shifted to Kenneth, her voice softening slightly but still carrying its usual authority. “And besides, I want Kenneth to witness firsthand what an inheritance ceremony entails. It's time for him to understand what it means to hold this legacy.”

  Kenneth felt his chest tighten at the weight of her words. He had learned how to control the Ultimate Fire, but the idea of leading the Fireon family and one day passing on its magic felt daunting.

  Fintan's decision wasn't just about Salem—it was a reminder of Kenneth's own future responsibilities, of the role he would inevitably have taken on.

  His mind churned with questions, but one lingered more than the rest.

  Is this really the path I'm ready to take?

  Fintan's sharp gaze caught his hesitation, and though she had said nothing, her look spoke volumes.

  The Fireon legacy wasn't just his burden—it was his destiny. And while Kenneth knew he couldn't avoid it forever, the uncertainty of it all still loomed over him like a shadow.

  ＊＊＊

  Joash looked at her mother with concern as they gathered in the study room. “Mother, did the Cassia family refused your request?”

  Fintan remained silent for a moment. She had personally reached out to the Cassia family to arrange Salem's inheritance ceremony, only to face their polite but unmistakable rejection.

  It wasn't entirely surprising. The Fireon family's reputation had faded over the years, and many families now saw them as relics of a bygone era.

  “They declined,” Fintan finally admitted, though there was a flicker of tension in her voice. “They've grown cautious of us since the family's decline. And with fire and plant magic naturally opposing one another, their hesitation was to be expected.”

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  Kenneth frowned, his fist clenching at his sides. The rejection stung, not just for Salem's sake but for what it symbolized—the Fireon's family's loss of standing.

  “I'm sorry,” Salem murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He cast his gaze downward, guilt clearly weighing on him.

  Fintan turned toward him, her sharp features softening. “This isn't your fault, Salem,” she said firmly. “And I won't let it stop us. The Fireon family might not carry the same weight it once did, but that doesn't absolve me from my responsibility.” She looked toward Kenneth and Joash. “We'll find another way.”

  ＊＊＊

  Kenneth found Salem sitting alone in the quiet garden, the soft glow of moonlight casting delicate shadows around them. Salem was holding a small clover, twirling it absently between his fingers.

  His expression was distant, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his thoughts.

  Kenneth sat down beside him without a word, letting the silence stretched between them. For a while, neither spoke, the stillness a shared space for their unspoken worries.

  Finally, Salem sighed, breaking the silence. “Because of my selfish request, I put Aunt Fintan in an awkward position.”

  Kenneth turned to him, shaking his head. “You don't have to worry about that. Aunt Fintan made her choice because she believes in you. She wouldn't have done it if she didn't think it was worth it.”

  Salem glanced at Kenneth, his grip tightening slightly on the clover. “Still, I can't help but feel like I've caused more trouble than I'm worth.”

  Kenneth frowned, considering his next words carefully. After a moment, he asked, “Why plant magic, Salem? There are other kinds of useful magic—like healing. Why not choose something like that?”

  Salem stared down at the clover in his hand, his expression softening into something more reflective. “While working with Dr. Mir, I learned that healing magic isn't always the answer. Some diseases can't be treated, not even by the most advanced spells. But plants…” He paused, rolling the clover between his fingers. “With plant magic, I could grow herbs, study their properties and maybe even create remedies for things magic alone can't fix.”

  Kenneth blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected such a thoughtful and practical answer. Salem wasn't looking for power—he was looking for a way to make a real difference.

  “You've really thought this through,” Kenneth said, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

  Salem nodded slightly, his voice quieter now. “I just… I want to help people, Kenneth. I don't want to sit on the sidelines while everyone else is out there doing something important.”

  Kenneth leaned back, staring up at the stars. Salem's resolve struck a chord in him, and an idea began to form in his mind.

  Slowly, he stood, a spark of determination igniting in his chest.

  “Come with me,” Kenneth said, his voice steady but tinged with excitement.

  Salem looked up at him puzzled. “Where are we going?”

  Kenneth offered him a hand, his smile faint but reassuring. “I think I know a way to help you get you magic—without needing anyone's approval.”

  Salem hesitated for only a moment before taking Kenneth's hand, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

  As they left the garden, the clover slipped from Salem's fingers, falling to the ground—a small, silent symbol of the hope he was leaving behind to chase something greater.

  ＊＊＊

  Kenneth and Salem stood in the shadow of the massive Tree of Life, its towering branches reaching toward the star-strewn sky. The gentle rush of leaves filled the quiet night air, and moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the ground.

  “This tree is incredible,” Salem said, his voice tinged with awe. His eyes were wide as he took in the sheer size and majesty on it. “But… why are we here?”

  Kenneth tilted his head up, his gaze fixed on the sprawling branches. “This is the Tree of Life,” he began. “It was created using Aether Magic, a power that binds all the elements together. It's more than just a symbol or a source of life—it's ancient and it holds a magic that's beyond anything we truly understand.”

  Salem glanced at him, curious but still skeptical. “Okay… but what does that have to do with me?”

  Kenneth hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I think this tree might be able to help you inherit magic”

  Salem frowned, his confusion evident. “Help me? How? Isn't that kind of… impossible?”

  Kenneth turned to face him. “I know it sounds far-fetched,” he admitted. “And honestly, I don't fully understand it myself. But ever since the day I connected with this tree, I've felt something. It's like it has a will on its own. Like it's alive in ways we can't explain.”

  Salem shifted uneasily, looking between Kenneth and the massive tree. “So, you're saying this tree might… give me magic?”

  Kenneth scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile creeping in his face. “Well, nothing's guaranteed. Besides, we've seen stranger things in this world. Speaking of which,” he added, “have you read The Wizard’s Magic Adventure?”

  Salem blinked, caught off guard. “The novel we talked about before all this happened? Yeah, I read it. It's.. weird how similar everything here feels to that story.”

  Kenneth nodded, a spark of excitement lighting his eyes. “Exactly. If so much from the book mirrors what's happening here, then maybe this tree could work like the inheritance ceremonies in the story. It's a long shot, but with everything we've seen so far… I have a good feeling about this. Let's try it.

  Salem hesitated, glancing at the massive tree towering above them. “So, we're basically recreating a scene from the fantasy book?” he asked, half-amused. “Alright. Why not?? Lead the way.”

  Kenneth chuckled, relieved Salem was on board. “It might look like make-believe, but… this tree's shown me things before. Maybe—just maybe—it'll do the same for you.”

  As Salem knelt before the Tree of Life, his expression shifted from playful skepticism to genuine curiosity. The weight of the moment seemed to settle over him.

  Kenneth stepped closer, positioning himself opposite Salem. If the tree couldn't act on its own Kenneth realized, then he would have to serve as the link.

  Gently, he placed one hand on Salem's head, feeling the subtle warmth of his energy. His other hand pressed against the rough bark of the tree.

  The instant his palm made contact, a faint pulse of energy rippled through him, like a quiet heartbeat awakening within the ancient trunk.

  Closing his eyes, Kenneth steadied his breathing, letting his thoughts focus entirely on the tree. The pulse beneath his hand grew stronger, more distinct, and the air surrounding them seemed to hum faintly. It was as if the tree was responding—not to him alone, but to Salem's presence as well.

  A warm tingling sensation traveled up Kenneth's arms, spreading through his body. The connection between him, Salem and the tree deepened, and Kenneth couldn't shake the sense that this wasn't a coincidence.

  The tree felt alive, as if it had been waiting for this moment, waiting for someone to ask—truly ask—for its power.

  Kenneth's voice was calm but resolute as he began. “Salem, you kneel before the Tree of Life. Today, you seek not power for yourself, but the ability to heal, to nurture, and to create—a gift to serve others and this world.”

  Salem clasped his hands together, his expression a mix of nervousness and hope, his head bowed slightly in silence reverence.

  “Hear us, Tree of Life,” Kenneth continued, his voice growing steadier, carrying the weight of the moment. “Grant this successor the gift of Plant Magic, so that he may bring life where there is none, healing where there is hurt, and growth where it is most needed.”

  Kenneth closed his eyes, steadying himself as the magic pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. He realized then—this was no mere reenactment. This was real.

  The Tree of Life was granting what he sought.

  He spoke the final words, his vice carrying an unshakable conviction. “By the will of the Tree of Life, you are now one its stewards. Rise, Salem, and use this gift wisely—to heal, to nurture, and to protect.”

  Salem remained kneeling for a moment, his breathing uneven as if overwhelming by the enormity of what just happened.

  Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, now faintly glowing with green energy. The warmth of the magic coursed through him, unfamiliar but undeniably real.

  “We… actually did it?” Salem whispered, his voice trembling with awe as he turned to Kenneth.

  Kenneth nodded, his expression tired but satisfied. The strain of channeling his own magic still lingered, but there was pride in his eyes. “Go on,” he said, gesturing to the soil beneath his feet. “Try it. Focus and imagine something simple.”

  Salem glanced at Kenneth, then back to the soil beneath him. Slowly, he pressed his hand into the ground. He drew a steady breathing, letting the stillness of the night settle over him.

  The ground beneath them began to glow faintly, a soft pulse of light radiating outward like ripples in water. It started small, but the glow quickly spread.

  Moments later, delicate blue flowers began to bloom, unfurling their petals in the moonlight as if waking from a long sleep. One by one, they appeared, stretching outward in an ever-growing wave, blanketing the courtyard in a sea of shimmering blossoms.

  As the flower continued to grow, petals lifted in the air, caught by an unseen wind. They floated gently, their luminescent glow casting soft, shifting light across the courtyard.

  Salem stared, his breath caught in his throat. “I just… I just imagined a nemophila flower,” he stammered, his voice filled in awe. “And this… this happened.”

  Kenneth blinked, momentarily stunned by the sight before him. Then a laugh bubbled up from his chest. “Well,” he said, shaking his head in amazement, “you've got talent, Salem. But maybe learn to control your pnevma first before you turn the whole academy into a garden.”

  Salem gave a nervous chuckle, his hands still resting in the soil as though he feared letting go might end the magic. He looked around at the glowing courtyard, the light reflecting in his wide eyes. “Yeah… control. Right.”

  Their laughter mingled, breaking the quiet reverence of the moment. It was a sound of shared relief and joy, a connection forged through the magic they had created together.

  From the edge of the courtyard, hidden in the shadows of a nearby archway, Nero stood silently, observing the scene.

  A faint smile tugged at Nero's lips as he tilted his head slightly, his eyes fixed with Salem.

  “This is why I kept you here,” he murmured, the weight of his words lost to the boy's laughter. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the Tree of Life, now adorned with the soft glow of blue blossoms. “The key always fits where it's needed.”

  Without another word, Nero turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving the courtyard to its quiet beauty.