[Silthara Palace—Hall of Scrolls—Moments Later]
The echo of the bronze doors still vibrated through Levin's bones as he walked with Naburash through the long, shadowed corridor. The air was colder here, quieter—the place where imperial archivists stored centuries of Zahryssar's laws.
Their footsteps alone dared disturb the silence.
Naburash walked a half-step behind him—respectfully, yet still tense, as if he feared the emperor's wrath might follow them like a shadow.
"Malika…" Naburash finally spoke, voice steady but cautious, "Before we begin—are you truly prepared for this trial?"
Levin glanced sideways, the veil fluttering in the faint breeze of the courtyard.
"…Yes."
But his voice held a tremor—not of fear… but of determination binding itself into steel.
Naburash bowed his head in acknowledgment.
