Night had deepened, and the wind grew cool.

As the dark clouds parted, a slender crescent moon silently emerged in the tranquil night sky. Its cool silver light spilled across the ground once more.

At the pavilion by the lotus pond, the beaded curtain swayed gently.

Her pearly teeth pressed against crimson lips. The resolute woman caressed the silver ring hanging around her neck and whispered a prayer,

"If you truly exist, if you are truly as Mother described... I beg you, hear my wish!"

"If only my wish can be granted, even if it’s a demon, I’d offer my soul without regret!"

A long time passed. In the silent air, nothing happened.

A bitter smile crossed her face. Staring at the unchanged ring, she clenched it in her palm, murmuring self-mockingly, "As expected... stories are just stories. Was it all a lie?"

"Father, Mother... what should I do?"

Crystal tears slid slowly down her temple. The forlorn woman buried her head in despair.

Blood seeped from her bitten lips. Drip... drip... crimson drops fell unwittingly onto the silver ring. Instantly, a dazzling light silently swirled around it.

A cold wind brushed through her hair. In the deep chill of the night, a lofty voice suddenly rang out, "Woman, didst thou summon me hither?"

At the border town, three days had passed since the last group entered the Tower of Babel.

During this time, this usually overlooked town gained a new guest: an honored visitor from the Magic Association.

Norris, one of the honorary vice presidents of the Magic Association, bore the title "Inferno Demon," a supreme fire-elemental archmage. Twenty years ago, with his peerless fire magic, he clashed with several archmages of equal rank and effortlessly slew three of them.

Since then, the Inferno Demon’s name spread across the continent, his fearsome reputation echoing far and wide.

But that’s not the point. The key is he was the master of Hill—the poor child crushed to death by the Demon King.

This time, he came searching for his missing apprentice. But seeing the strange leaning tower before him, he changed his mind...

He didn’t rush in. Instead, he waited quietly... for the possible victor to emerge.

Then, he wouldn’t face unknown dangers; he’d simply strangle the unripe lucky one with his own hands.

But ideals are beautiful, plans are sound—just... luck was a bit lacking.

After days of waiting, watching the violently shaking Tower of Babel on the verge of collapse, Norris swiftly retreated. He knew his chance had come.

Standing on soft earth as if reborn, gazing at the vast sky, Lily murmured in disbelief, "We... are we out?"

"I suppose so!"

Valen exhaled deeply, feeling dazed. Was he still alive?

Not seeing the familiar figure, Lily frowned and muttered, "Strange... where’s Master? Could he be trapped inside?"

"This feeling... someone wants us dead!" Valen, whose body had been transforming constantly since eating the Golden Apple, suddenly tensed and shouted in alarm.

As his words faded, an old man in a fiery red robe appeared before them. "Congratulations, both of you, on passing the Tower of Babel’s trial!"

"Who... are you?"

Lily tilted her head in confusion, sensing something familiar about him, and asked uncertainly.