This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

But did that really mean he'd passed the test of the trial?

The death of her sapling while his continued to grow could simply mean his answer was more correct than hers...

It didn't mean it was the best answer or even what the trial was looking for…

Thankfully, the Unity tree did not stop. It continued to climb, higher and higher, faster and faster. It was like someone had pressed fast forward on a time-lapse. The bark darkened and thickened. The canopy expanded and burst outward like an explosion of golden light. Dozens of branches, then hundreds, then thousands. In only minutes, the tree was massive, its roots extended beyond the limited patch of land to take up much of the courtyard, even pushing all five pedestals askew by displacing the ground beneath them.

A low chime rang out, no louder than a whisper, but it echoed through the stone walls of the courtyard like the reverberation of a great bell.

Then, the bark near the base of the trunk split and groaned, creaking like a door opening for the first time in centuries. The wood twisted inward—knots shifting, cracking—and slowly reshaped itself into the vague outline of a face.

A long, furrowed brow, hollow sockets glowing with golden light, and a mouth shaped like a weathered carving. Old. Wisened. It was as if an elderly genderless face was formed naturally from the bark.

The lips of the tree-face moved, and a voice rang out—not a booming tone, but something aged and weary, yet resolute. The universal language translated itself in Kain's mind as effortlessly as before.

"The trial is complete."

Kain stiffened.

Bai Lian's breath caught audibly behind him.

The light filtering down from above shifted, as if the sunlight itself leaned closer to observe the tree.

The face in the tree, eyes remaining closed, began to move in what made for an eerie sight. Soon enough, its mouth that seemed to be fused shut and reopened with great effort, began to speak in an old genderless voice.

"There was never one perfect answer. Earth did not fail because it lacked one virtue, but because it lacked too many. Magic may have closed the gap. Unity may have bought time. Faith may have carried the broken. Innovation may have broken boundaries. Weaponry may have slowed the tide."

"All could be justified. All could be flawed."

The voice paused, and a slow pulse of gold ran up the tree's trunk.

"But this trial is not judged by ideals. It is judged by reasoning."

Kain's brows furrowed.

"When a seed is planted, the reasoning behind it takes root. That is the fertilizer. The tree that grows is not born of the seed alone, but of the mind and heart that placed it. The stronger the belief, the clearer the logic, the deeper the understanding—"

The branches of the Unity tree swayed gently as if to demonstrate its own point.

"—the stronger the tree."

Silence followed.

Kain didn't move.

Behind him, Bai Lian's shoulders slumped slightly.

"This was not a competition between contestants. Even had there been no second contender… had you stood alone… your seed still would have needed to grow strong enough to be accepted. Weak logic. Shallow conviction. Hesitation in your heart—any of these would have seen the tree fail to bloom."

The golden canopy shimmered again, scattering flecks of radiant light like pollen.

The bark-face creaked downward slightly, as if turning its attention to Kain more directly. "Reincarnate." Kain's heart thumped at the term it chose to call him by. " Your reasoning was clear. Firm. Rooted not in pride, but in a clear understanding of Earth's limits… and potential."

"And in doing so… you sowed doubt in the mind of the one who planted beside you."

Kain's eyes flicked back briefly toward Bai Lian, who stood frozen, lips slightly parted in realization that she had been somewhat convinced by Kain's words to her before planting the seed.

"The first tree was weakened by the conflict within its planter's heart. And so… I grew stronger. Not only because of what I represent, but because you fully understood the implications of choosing me on Earth."

Kain swallowed but said nothing.

"The relic acknowledges your success. The inheritance is yours to claim."

With those final words, the mouth of the bark-face split downward—far wider than it had any right to. The lower jaw unfolded like the gate of a fortress. Golden light poured out of it, pulsing and intense, flooding across the courtyard in radiant shafts that bathed Kain's face in warmth.

He squinted at the glow and took a half-step back. The air shifted—it was warm, yes, but not burning. Not painful. More like standing at the edge of a sacred bonfire. Watching something you weren't sure you were supposed to touch.

Then glanced back at Bai Lian, who simply stared at the spectacle, then offered him a small, tired smile and a single quiet clap.

"…Good job," she murmured, not bitter, but still a little disappointed. "I kind of figured you'd succeed. Still had some hope, though."

Kain nodded at her with a brief smile.

Then looked back at the now-gaping mouth of bark and glowing light.

"…Am I supposed to just… reach into that?" he asked aloud, eyebrow twitching.

The tree didn't reply.

The mouth remained open.

Kain sighed. "Of course."

With a reluctant grimace, he stepped forward and raised his arm. He paused briefly, letting the heat of the light brush his skin. The hair on his arm stood on end—not from the aura of the tree, which was quite intense, but moreso from the nervousness of sticking his hand into an opening he can't see the inside of nor know what it contained.

"…If I lose my hand, I will burn this tree down. Somehow. I will find a way." he muttered.

Then he shoved it further in.

The light engulfed him to the shoulder.

His hand reached around blindly, feeling nothing at first but radiant warmth and a faint resistance. It was like trying to grasp at fog.

And then… he felt it.

Solid. Cold. Weighty.

His fingers closed around it.