Silence lingered within the ancient hall.
Heavy.
Almost sacred.
The pale blue flames drifted quietly around the colossal chamber while illusionary fragments of the fallen Vaelari civilization slowly faded from the black stone walls. Towering cities disappeared into darkness. Ancient rivers of silver light vanished. The echoes of forgotten wars dissolved back into silence beneath the gaze of the six-armed deity statue towering above everyone.
And standing beneath it all—
The guardian smiled faintly.
Lonely.
Tired.
"For thousands of years…"
The ancient scholar's voice still echoed softly across the hall.
"…I remained alone."
No one among the expedition spoke afterward.
Not immediately.
Several members lowered their heads unconsciously after hearing the history of the Vaelari.
Because suddenly—
The temple no longer felt evil.
Not cursed.
Not demonic.
It felt tragic.
The skull-filled offering chamber.
The abandoned treasures.
The isolated guardian protecting ruins long after his civilization vanished.
Everything suddenly carried unbearable sadness.
One younger mage quietly clenched his fists.
Another mercenary looked visibly conflicted after previously calling the temple demonic.
Even Edwin Hale, usually analytical and composed, stared silently toward the gigantic deity statue with troubled eyes.
Humanity destroyed them.
Not monsters.
Not dragons.
Not calamities.
Humans.
Kel quietly observed the reactions around him.
Then slowly looked toward the guardian again.
The ancient scholar remained calm beneath the floating blue flames, though the loneliness hidden within his pale eyes could not be concealed completely anymore.
And finally—
Kel spoke.
"Truly…"
His calm voice echoed softly through the gigantic hall.
"…humans are perhaps the only species incapable of living in harmony."
Several expedition members visibly stiffened hearing that.
Kel continued slowly.
"Humans fear anything different from themselves."
A slight pause followed.
"And because of that fear…"
His eyes lifted briefly toward the broken illusionary cities fading from the walls.
"…they destroy others."
The guardian quietly watched him.
Interested.
Kel's expression remained calm.
Yet his voice carried strange coldness now.
Not hatred.
Understanding.
"And ironically…"
A faint pause followed.
"…humans themselves are humanity's greatest enemy."
The hall fell silent again.
The pale flames flickered gently around the ancient pillars.
Sairen's voice echoed softly through the soul-link.
"…You sound disappointed in your own species."
Kel answered internally.
"History repeatedly justifies disappointment."
Because he remembered.
Not only this world's history.
But Earth's history.
And the countless ruined timelines within Destiny.
War.
Fear.
Greed.
Division.
Humans repeated the same cycle endlessly.
Kel slowly looked toward the giant deity statue again.
"You know something amusing, Scholar Guardian?"
The ancient being's pale blue eyes narrowed slightly hearing the title.
Not offended.
Almost pleased.
Kel continued quietly.
"After humanity destroyed your civilization…"
A faint pause followed.
"…they immediately began destroying each other afterward."
Several expedition members visibly lowered their eyes further.
Because none of them could deny it.
The history of the Empire itself was filled with endless wars.
Civil conflicts.
Massacres.
Noble purges.
Kingdom collapses.
Kel's calm voice echoed softly beneath the ancient hall.
"Thousands of years."
His eyes darkened faintly.
"Thousands of years of war."
"Kingdoms burning."
"Empires collapsing."
"Cities erased."
The pale blue flames trembled softly.
"Humans slaughtered humans more efficiently than any dragon ever could."
Silence.
Heavy silence.
One mercenary quietly clenched his jaw.
Another looked away entirely.
Because deep down—
Everyone knew it was true.
Kel softly laughed once beneath his breath.
Not mockingly.
Almost tired.
"I mean…"
A slight pause followed.
"…how foolish can humans truly be?"
The ancient guardian stared at him silently several moments afterward.
Then slowly—
Very slowly—
The guardian smiled.
Not amused.
Not bitter.
Understanding.
"Hahahaha…"
The ancient scholar laughed softly.
A quiet laugh echoing through the giant chamber.
"You really are strange, Aster."
His pale blue eyes reflected ancient sadness beneath the floating flames.
"Most humans defend humanity blindly."
The guardian slowly descended another step from the deity platform.
"They call themselves righteous."
"They justify war."
"They claim superiority."
His smile thinned faintly.
"Yet you…"
A slight pause followed.
"…speak of humanity like an outsider observing them."
Several expedition members glanced toward Kel uneasily after hearing that.
Because somehow—
The guardian's words felt accurate.
Heral often spoke about humanity with detached observation.
As though he existed slightly outside normal emotional perspective.
Kel remained calm.
Then quietly answered—
"Perhaps because I understand humans too well."
Silence.
The guardian studied him carefully afterward.
Long enough that even the atmosphere grew heavier.
Then finally—
The ancient scholar spoke softly.
"You know…"
His pale eyes drifted upward toward the giant deity statue again.
"…our people once believed humans would eventually surpass us."
Several explorers blinked faintly hearing that.
The guardian continued.
"Humans adapt faster than nearly any species."
A faint smile appeared.
"You learn quickly."
"You multiply endlessly."
"You evolve through conflict."
The blue flames drifted gently around him.
"And perhaps that is precisely why humans destroy themselves repeatedly."
Kel's eyes narrowed slightly.
Interested.
The guardian's voice softened.
"Because humanity advances through suffering."
The hall fell silent again afterward.
Sairen softly murmured through the soul-link.
"…That's a terrible way for a species to evolve."
Kel internally answered quietly.
"Yet effective."
The guardian suddenly looked directly toward the gathered expedition members.
Toward the mercenaries.
The mages.
The explorers.
"Tell me."
His voice echoed softly through the chamber.
"If another civilization appeared tomorrow…"
A slight pause followed.
"…more advanced than humanity…"
His pale blue eyes sharpened faintly.
"What do you think your Empire would do?"
Silence.
Absolute silence.
No one answered.
Because everyone already knew.
Fear.
Suspicion.
War.
Exactly as before.
The guardian softly laughed again.
"Nothing changes."
Kel quietly observed the ancient scholar beneath the pale blue flames.
And inwardly—
He realized something important.
This guardian no longer hated humanity.
Hatred required emotional energy.
Hope.
Expectation.
But after thousands of years alone—
What remained inside the ancient scholar…
Was exhaustion.
Then finally—
Kel spoke once more.
Quietly.
"Perhaps."
A faint pause followed.
"…that is why civilizations need people capable of understanding others."
The guardian slowly looked toward him again.
"Otherwise…"
Kel's calm eyes lifted toward the colossal deity statue.
"…history simply repeats forever."
The ancient hall fell silent beneath the pale blue flames.
And somewhere deep within the ancient temple—
The lonely guardian looked at the young human standing before him…
And for the first time in centuries—
Felt something dangerously close to hope again.