"For twenty years, the presence of Oz vanished from this world," the Elder began, his voice heavy with the weight of history. "No replacement was sent for the one who fell, and so we chose to find someone worthy of bearing the burden. The current Oz has done well, managing without our help… but he is fading."
"Then why did he leave?" George asked, eyes narrowed. "Why am I being chosen when the other Oz is still alive?"
The Elder's gaze shifted toward the ring on George's hand. "The ring exacts a massive toll on anyone who wears it—especially one without mana. If I had to guess, it's because the other Oz has left this world to prepare for the end. The ring drains life. The other Oz, I believe, is counting his final days." The Elder's voice dropped. "Thankfully, the ring has not been as harsh on you."
George stared at the ring, tension creeping into his voice. "Not as harsh? What does that mean? What's going to happen to me?"
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