Chapter 72 – The Man Without Answers

The underground chamber became completely silent.
Even Mira stopped fidgeting.
Even Aerin stopped looking around.
The question lingered between them.
Who are you?
For weeks, perhaps months now, nobody had truly asked it.
Not seriously.
Not expecting an answer.
The mysterious man had traveled beside them.
Fought beside them.
Ate beside them.
Yet somehow none of them knew anything important about him.
Only a name.
Nothing more.
Now, for the first time, it seemed impossible to ignore.
The man stared at the ancient inscription for several seconds.
Then slowly released a breath.
“I don’t know.”
Mira immediately frowned.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a terrible answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
The frustration in his voice surprised everyone.
Especially Kael.
Because this was the first genuine emotion she had seen from him.
Not calm.
Not amusement.
Not patience.
Frustration.
The man stepped closer to the pedestal.
His eyes remained fixed on the ancient name.
“I remember climbing.”
Nobody interrupted.
“I remember fighting.”
His voice grew quieter.
“I remember surviving.”
A pause followed.
A long one.
Then—
“I don’t remember before that.”
The chamber felt colder.
Aerin stared.
“You lost your memory?”
“Part of it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Mira crossed her arms.
“That sounds suspicious.”
The man actually nodded.
“It does.”
The honesty caught her off guard.

Kael studied him carefully.
He wasn’t lying.
Or at least he believed what he was saying.
That much she could tell.
The problem was something else.
The name on the pedestal.
The moment he saw it—
He reacted.
Instinctively.
The reaction was too genuine to fake.
“Can you read it?”
Kael asked.
The man looked at the inscription again.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
Silence.
The man hesitated.
For the first time since they met.
Eventually he answered.
“It’s a name.”
“We know that.”
Mira immediately replied.
The man ignored her.
“It says…”
His eyes narrowed.
As if trying to remember something distant.
“…Elias.”
Nobody recognized the name.
Nobody except him.
The moment he spoke it, his hand unconsciously clenched.
A flash of pain crossed his face.
Then vanished.
A memory.
Or the remains of one.

The rest of the chamber revealed nothing.
No treasure.
No clues.
No monsters.
Only the name.
And a growing number of questions.
Eventually they left.
Yet the atmosphere felt different afterward.
Not hostile.
Not uncomfortable.
Just thoughtful.
Everyone was thinking.
Especially Kael.

That evening they camped near a river running through the ruins.
Aerin sat beside the water, sharpening his sword.
The weapon Dain had given him months ago no longer looked new.
The blade carried countless marks from countless battles.
Much like its owner.
Nearby, Mira was carefully organizing herbs.
Her skill had improved enormously.
Months ago she had simply followed recipes.
Now she was creating her own variations.
Testing combinations.
Learning effects.
Growing.
The same way all of them were growing.
Kael sat beneath a broken pillar, sketching another map.
The mysterious man—Elias, perhaps—sat nearby.
Quiet.
More quiet than usual.
Eventually Aerin broke the silence.
“Do you want to know something funny?”
Nobody answered.
Aerin continued anyway.
“My parents used to think I’d die before reaching the fifth floor.”
Mira snorted.
“Mine thought I’d die before entering the Tower.”
“Fair.”
Aerin laughed.
Then his expression softened.
“You know…”
He looked toward the darkening sky.
“…I miss them.”
Nobody mocked him.
Nobody called him weak.
Because they all understood.
The Tower gave many things.
But it also took things.
Time.
Distance.
Moments.

Mira spoke next.
“I miss the orphanage.”
The admission surprised even her.
She quickly looked away.
“Not because of the place.”
Aerin smiled.
“The people?”
She nodded.
“The kids.”
Her voice became softer.
“They probably think I abandoned them.”
Aerin immediately shook his head.
“They don’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
Aerin smiled.
“But I know you.”
Mira didn’t answer.
Yet her expression relaxed slightly.

Then both of them looked toward Kael.
A dangerous mistake.
Because now they wanted answers.
“What about you?”
Mira asked.
Kael continued drawing.
“What about me?”
“What do you miss?”
The pencil stopped moving.
Only for a second.
Then continued.
“Peace.”
Aerin laughed.
Mira groaned.
“That’s such a Kael answer.”
“It was a question.”
“It was a boring answer.”
“I wasn’t trying to entertain you.”

The conversation should have ended there.
But Aerin wasn’t finished.
“And Riven?”
The pencil stopped again.
This time longer.
The silence stretched.
Mira immediately realized what he had done.
The mysterious man quietly looked away.
Eventually Kael sighed.
A very small sigh.
The kind only people who knew her would notice.
“I miss arguing with him.”
The answer surprised everyone.
Including herself.
Mira blinked.
“Arguing?”
“He annoyed me.”
Aerin laughed.
“That sounds familiar.”
Kael ignored him.
“He always tried talking.”
“Like Aerin.”
“He asked too many questions.”
“Definitely like Aerin.”
“He smiled too much.”
Mira pointed toward Aerin.
“Still sounds like Aerin.”
Aerin looked proud for some reason.

For the first time in a long while—
Kael smiled.
A small one.
Brief.
Gone almost instantly.
Yet it was there.
And everyone saw it.
Nobody mentioned it.
Because some moments felt too important to interrupt.

Later that night, after everyone fell asleep, Kael remained awake again.
The habit was impossible to break now.
She stared toward the stars above the thirtieth floor.
Stars that weren’t real.
A sky that wasn’t real.
Yet somehow felt more alive than the real one.
The shard rested in her palm.
Three pieces joined together.
Two pieces still missing.
The pattern remained unchanged.
Five.
Fifteen.
Twenty-five.
The next one should be on the thirty-fifth floor.
At least if the pattern continued.
The final piece…
Forty-fifth.
Which meant they still had a long way to go.
A very long way.
She should have felt discouraged.
Instead—
She felt anticipation.
The realization annoyed her.
Because months ago she never wanted to climb the Tower.
Now she was already planning how to climb higher.
Much higher.

Suddenly the shard pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
Kael frowned.
She looked around.
Nothing.
No monsters.
No people.
No danger.
Yet the sensation remained.
A feeling she couldn’t explain.
Someone was watching.
Not nearby.
Far away.
Extremely far away.
Yet somehow connected.
The feeling lasted only a few seconds.
Then disappeared.
Leaving her alone with the night.
Unaware that somewhere above the fortieth floor, a door that had remained sealed for years had quietly begun to crack.
And something inside had finally started to wake up.