(20 hours later, The Eternal Garden, Moltherak's POV)
Moltherak descended into the Eternal Garden alone, unafraid that it might be a trap or an ambush, as he landed upon Kaelith's domain without a care in the world, his boots touching down lightly upon smooth stone while his immense aura remained compressed beneath Helmuth's borrowed flesh.
He did not move at once.
Instead, he stood where he had landed and took in the Eternal Garden in silence, his sharp eyes scanning the layered terraces, the calm streams cutting quiet paths through trimmed greenery, and the tall trees placed with deliberate care rather than wild abandon.
Nothing in the Garden felt accidental.
The beauty was restrained and measured, as though every stone, every patch of grass, and every stretch of open sky had been shaped by a ruler who valued control and balance above excess, and who had spent centuries refining his domain into something that reflected quiet authority rather than loud dominance.
