In the tranquil city, even the lights had been extinguished, leaving behind an expanse of darkness.
Once, the nights here sparkled like an unquenchable river of stars, with lights flickering ceaselessly.
Yet now, the deceased, not of this world, have entirely claimed the domain of the living, with aimless wanderers driven by an insatiable thirst for fresh flesh filling the streets and alleys.
The remaining survivors huddled cautiously in the city's shadowy corners, afraid to utter even the slightest sound, lest they attract the attention of the undead.
Faced with these mindless yet immensely powerful zombies, the ordinary populace found themselves utterly powerless.
Occasionally, there were formidable practitioners among them, but even those below the seventh tier could do little against the horde of zombies, each enhanced by the failed virus to rival a second-tier warrior.
So, in this border town, did any seventh-tier or higher power exist?
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
While everyone else cowered in the dark, evading the pursuit of the dead, two figures emerged, treading lightly upon the dilapidated stone streets, shattering the silence of the night.
In the heart of Tianxin City, the clock tower loomed.
Xiao Mu Yu gazed impassively at the towering bell tower ahead, its pinnacle occasionally illuminated by a golden arcane glow, his cold eyes betraying no flicker of emotion.
The blue-haired songstress trailed closely behind him, cautiously maintaining her distance, yet unwilling to stray too far from the indifferent man, for the encroaching undead and the countless skeletal hands reaching out were far more terrifying than the man himself.
At least, that was how it felt to the blue-haired songstress.
Though her fifth-tier prowess rendered her unafraid of these mindless corpses, allowing her to navigate this city overrun by the dead with agility, she could not walk through the tide of zombies with the same composure as Xiao Mu Yu.
In Freya's eyes, countless arms and bodies, mere moments from reaching them, were instantly shredded into a shower of flesh and bone by an invisible blade.
As Xiao Mu Yu strode through the horde, he appeared as if he were strolling in his own backyard, his expression as unyielding as ancient ice.
Observing the multitude of "humans" around him disintegrate into a flurry of gore, Xiao Mu Yu's expression remained devoid of any sign of disturbance.
In contrast, Freya lacked his cold-heartedness; witnessing the scattered remnants of bone and flesh, she felt a twinge of nausea. Despite knowing these "people" were already dead, she could not help but feel a pang of compassion.
Several times, she attempted to urge Xiao Mu Yu to reconsider, but each time she opened her mouth and glimpsed his unfeeling countenance, she instinctively swallowed her words, ultimately resigning to follow him in silence.
The man walked on, his gaze cold and unyielding; with each step, a tempest of blood and flesh erupted around him. Yet, beneath the profound darkness of the night, no one noticed the dark runes flashing and vanishing along the streets he traversed.
At the pinnacle of the clock tower, a handsome middle-aged man rubbed his stubbled chin with a sigh, laughing heartily. "Ah, Mr. Ezreal, why do you persistently entangle yourself with me? I am hardly a peerless beauty, and you have been at my side for nearly a day and a night. Aren't you exhausted?"
"Warwick! I reiterate: as long as you reveal the solution to the problem, I will not hinder you and will immediately open the arcane field to let you depart."
The golden-haired youth stood at the center of the vast space, his right hand raised toward the heavens, the energy pendant on his wrist serving as the focal point. Invisible waves coalesced in the void, creating a magical space that temporarily isolated the clock tower's summit from the outside world.
"Why must you insist on this? Setting aside the fact that those citizens are strangers to you, the virus lurking within them seals their fate. Even if the goddess herself were to arrive, she could not save them. Why do you continue to struggle?"
Warwick sighed. "I know you are kind-hearted and cannot bear to see the survivors become mindless ghouls. However, many events in this world occur regardless of your desires. After years of traveling the continent, I believe you understand this truth better than I."
"Indeed, many occurrences in this world do not cease simply because I wish them to," Ezreal replied coldly. "Yet I also recognize that many situations remain hopeless only when one ceases to seek solutions."
"Ah, what a splendid and optimistic outlook on life!" Warwick applauded, chuckling. "Mr. Ezreal, your worldview is so beautiful it is truly moving, leaving someone like me, who spends his days in a dark laboratory dealing with corpses and viruses, feeling rather ashamed."
Ezreal fixed a furious glare upon the middle-aged man before him, who had inadvertently locked himself in this predicament. "I will not waste my breath with you. The moment you disclose the solution, I will release you."
"Must I repeat myself? There is no solution! Moreover, the virus is highly contagious. If we do not act swiftly to contain it, anyone from outside the city who comes into contact with it will unleash a catastrophe!"
Warwick sighed in resignation. "You should not waste time with me here; instead, you must urgently inform the Debang army to seal off this city to prevent the situation from escalating."
"You need not concern yourself with that; I have my own plans," Ezreal scoffed.
"Rest assured, I can afford to wait. I have no shortage of time, but I cannot guarantee that the Debang forces will be as patient upon discovering you, the mastermind behind this, as I am. Who knows what drastic actions they may take?"
"Ah, how troublesome! Have you already sent someone to notify the Debang army? Let me think—could that brave messenger be our lovely and charming Miss Freya?"
Warwick grinned wickedly, stroking his chin. "It must be! In such chaotic times, Mr. Ezreal, you can only rely on our delightful songstress. However, have you considered that without your protection, in this tumultuous city, our charming songstress may not be safe?"
"Hmph! You need not worry; Sister Freya is hardly a helpless three-year-old. Besides, with her fifth-tier strength, what danger could she possibly encounter in this city aside from you?" Ezreal retorted sarcastically.
"Oh dear… you mustn't say that! Have you forgotten that there is also a ninth-tier powerhouse in this city? And one who once kidnapped Miss Freya, no less?"
Warwick chuckled maliciously, his grin sinister. "If those two were to cross paths, I cannot imagine it would bode well."