Far away, in the Turner mansion, the elders convened. Word had spread of Garfield's exploits—his survival in the desert, the dragon slain with raw mana, his name whispered across kingdoms.
In the grand hall, Elder Rian struck his staff.
"We must decide his fate," he declared.
Some praised Garfield, calling him the prodigy lost to misfortune. Others scorned him, branding him a heretic who walked a cursed path.
But most turned their eyes to Liora Van Turner, Garfield's younger sister. Already a rising star, she had reached the Eighth Late, earning medals and accolades. She was their hope, their weapon.
"Forget Garfield," one elder spat. "The boy drowned in his madness long ago. We must prepare Liora for the coming trials."
But in the shadows of the hall, whispers lingered. Some feared Garfield's return. Others secretly admired it.
And somewhere, deep inside the mansion, a record-keeper noted one thing quietly: Van Turner's lost son has touched a power we cannot name.