God's Tree-Chapter 227: Preparation and Observation

The silence that followed the final introduction was heavier than stone.

Twelve prodigies had spoken. Their names bore legacies stretching from noble lines to spiritual myths. And yet, it was the nameless thirteenth, the boy who simply nodded and said nothing of his blood or banner, who now held the room's gravity.

Argolaith didn't flaunt his background because he didn't need to.

His magic had spoken louder than titles.

His cube still lingered in their thoughts.

Elder Mirith finally stepped forward, her long robe gliding across the rune-etched floor.

"You've all grown too comfortable in your isolation," she said.

Her voice was quiet, but it reverberated through the chamber with crystalline weight.

"Excellence breeds arrogance. And arrogance blinds you to one truth—you will face things in this world that care nothing for your name, title, or year."

The illusion lights dimmed slightly, and a large rune circle illuminated the center of the classroom floor.

She extended her hand.

With a whisper of magic, a projection shimmered above it: an obsidian gate half-buried in overgrown ruins, runes around its edge pulsing with ancient, broken patterns. The air in the illusion shimmered with chaotic static, like reality itself was failing to hold still near the structure.

"This is the Twelfth Gate."

The students tensed.

Argolaith studied it, eyes narrowing slightly.

Mirith continued.

"It is a ruin sealed in a collapsed spatial pocket, one the Academy recovered six years ago. It's still unstable. The internal realm is bent, twisted—made from fractured thoughts and mirrored spell echoes. A place where illusions become real and reality forgets its shape."

She looked slowly around the room.

"Normally, only elite field agents and specialized summoners are sent to recover data and relics. But you—you thirteen—will be sent inside."

Ren Vaelor stepped forward first, his voice measured.

"Together?"

Mirith nodded.

"Together."

Caelene Vex folded her arms. "What's the objective?"

"Survive. Retrieve what remains of the core seal. Learn who among you can lead. Who follows. Who listens. And who breaks."

She turned slightly, eyes flicking once toward Argolaith.

"And see what happens when an unknown variable walks beside legends."

A ripple passed through the students at that phrasing. Some stiffened. Others glanced at Argolaith again with renewed attention.

Velka Naruin muttered under her breath, "We're test subjects now…"

Mirith's eyes sharpened.

"You always were."

The room shifted again.

A side wall of the chamber rotated smoothly, revealing a vertical gate ring—a shimmering circle of starlight, inactive but thrumming with potential. Runes scrawled in a forgotten script floated just above the base.

Argolaith looked at it, not with wonder—but understanding.

It felt familiar.

Almost like something he'd seen… in another realm.

Maybe the Void.

Maybe the cube remembered it.

"You leave at dawn," Mirith said. "Each of you will be given a binding thread. It will link your life force to a retrieval beacon. If your pulse ceases, the thread will pull your body back—but not your mind. Not your soul."

She let the words settle.

Then finally, she addressed Argolaith directly.

"Do you accept this assignment?"

Argolaith nodded once.

"Yes."

"You will not be leader. Not yet."

"I don't intend to lead," he said calmly. "I intend to finish the mission."

Some students blinked at the phrasing.

Caelene studied him from the side of her vision, thoughtful. Ren's gaze lingered longer, as though trying to determine whether Argolaith was bluffing—or serious.

Mirith raised her hand.

"You're dismissed for now. Prepare. The gate opens with the second bell."

As the students filed out—some talking in quiet tones, others silent—Argolaith remained where he stood, facing the inactive gate.

The projection had disappeared.

But the memory of it lingered.

And so did a single thought:

What kind of magic waits behind a broken seal no one has ever repaired?

The hidden classroom had emptied, the last whispers of conversation fading beyond the sealed corridor.

The light in the chamber dimmed to a dull blue, pulsing gently with residual mana. The ancient runes etched into the stone shimmered with low resonance, like they were waiting to see what came next.

Argolaith remained seated in silence.

The mission to the Twelfth Gate weighed nothing on his shoulders. It was not dread or excitement that filled his mind—it was strategy.

He'd never fought beside others.

– Curious, detached

– May struggle in a grounded fight. Excellent with inner-world perception.

9. Kier Daelthorn

– Third-Year

– Defensive Rune Architecture

– Loyal, task-driven

– Will hold the line. Dependable if anchored.

10. Myra Eirsol

– Fifth-Year

– Combat Illusionist

– Sharp-minded, historically cruel in simulations

– Could cause serious friendly fire confusion. Monitor closely.

11. Zephion Rehl

– Fourth-Year

– Spirit Pact Mage

– Bound to a forgotten elemental god

– Unpredictable. His familiar's behavior may hint at future threats.

12. Caelene Vex

– Fifth-Year

– Void Ritual Combat

– Noble blood, initially arrogant

– Capable of change. Watched me closely. If she adapts, she could become a rival or ally.

Argolaith finished the etchings and dismissed the slate with a thought.

Twelve names.

Twelve potential allies.

Twelve obstacles to assess.

They were not enemies—not yet—but none of them were familiar. None of them knew what he had endured in the Galaxy Maker's realm, what it meant to die ten thousand times and choose clarity over power.

They only knew the academy.

He knew everything else.

He rose from his seat, the hum of the rune-circle near the gate still flickering in the background.

One more night.

Then they would descend into the Twelfth Gate.

And when they returned—if they returned—everything in the academy would shift again.

Because tomorrow… the prodigies would stop wondering who Argolaith was.

And start asking what he was becoming.