Bright moonlight, a ruined valley.
A delicate-looking youth named Auris sat on a huge black stone, a few strands of hair on his forehead stirring in the wind, his figure slightly slender, his eyes glinting with a faint golden luster. He sighed softly, his expression vaguely listless.
"Has Dukaluo already died?" Auris asked softly, looking at the pits and fragments of bone on the ground.
Before him, there appeared to be no one around, but as his words fell, a "boom" of firelight burst forth, and a burly figure in military attire emerged.
This person was the Great General Simmons, who had previously been in contact with the Great Elder.
Simmons glanced at the ground with a somber expression before answering in a low voice, "He wanted to clear the obstacles for you but failed, and now he is reduced to bones. However, it might be a relief for him, as dying on his ancestral land is a dream for many of the elderly."
Dukaluo was the Great Elder's nickname.
