The headquarters of the Fallen Order was shrouded in dim, flickering light, and the oppressive atmosphere was almost suffocating. Ancient runes and carvings adorned the walls of the grand hall, which bore tattered banners that seemed to recount endless tales of slaughter and ambition.
"Damn it! Mara is dead!" A furious roar shattered the silence as a burly man slammed the table before him. His voice dripped with rage and frustration. "I warned him! I told him to keep a low profile and not provoke uncertain opponents. But he didn't listen! And now look what happened—he's dragged us into a mess by getting himself killed by a mere Spirit Wielder!"
His anger echoed through the vast hall, as though he wanted his fury to reach every corner of the room. Across from him, a man in a long black robe let out a derisive snort, his tone laced with disdain. "Enough. Mara made mistakes, but he wasn't completely useless. The real issue lies with the ones who killed him—Jay and Vilk."
The burly man growled through gritted teeth, his voice low and seething. "Jay? Vilk? A Spirit Wielder? Mara lost to them? This is a disgrace!"
From the head of the table, a man slowly raised his gaze. His cold, abyss-like eyes locked on the others in the room, and his voice carried a chilling authority. "Don't underestimate Jay. He isn't just any Spirit Wielder. He possesses a Divine Spirit and is also a Spirit Martial Vessel. Such a person is not someone you can easily deal with."
"Divine Spirit? Spirit Martial Vessel?" A woman leaning against a pillar raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with contempt. "So what? Are we supposed to be afraid of them? No matter how strong they are, they're still no match for us."
"Divine Spirit... Do you really think it's just an ordinary form of power?" The man at the head of the table let out a cold laugh, his gaze sweeping across the room. His voice grew even colder. "Remember, a Divine Spirit's essence is that of a god. While we of the Fallen Order are strong, it doesn't mean we can act recklessly. Especially when it comes to Spirit Martial Vessels—their potential far exceeds that of normal Spirit Wielders. And don't forget about Xuèyíng of the Dawn Order. That girl also has a Divine Spirit and is a Spirit Martial Vessel."
"Xueying? I've heard of her. She's indeed troublesome," said a man seated on the left side of the hall, his tone tinged with seriousness. "Her Spirit Martial Vessel abilities, combined with her Divine Spirit allies, make her nearly impossible to overpower in a direct confrontation."
"So what? Does the Fallen Order cower before anyone?" scoffed a middle-aged man as he stood, his face full of disdain. "If they're really that strong, then we'll find a way to suppress them! Don't tell me we lack the means to deal with them."
"Suppress?" The man at the head of the table sneered, his tone dripping with mockery. "Don't forget, a Divine Spirit is a god incarnate. Don't think our strength alone can easily crush them. Besides, some among us have chosen to become Spirit Wielders themselves, haven't they?"
His words brought an uncomfortable silence to the hall.
"So, what's next?" After a long pause, someone finally broke the silence.
"It's simple." The man at the head of the table stood, his icy gaze fixed on the far end of the hall. "Mara's death is unfortunate, but we have other matters to attend to. A year from now, Xiàng Chéng will have full control of the Grand Arbiter, but we'll also make our move on Dream City. The Divine Orbs must be ours! Domain City grows weaker by the day, and the Grand Arbiter is far from mature. Keep a low profile for now. Soon, we will act."
With that, he turned and walked deeper into the hall, his figure growing more sinister under the dim, flickering lights.
The grand hall fell silent once more, with only the faint glow of the lanterns casting eerie shadows on the walls.
At dusk, the streets of the small town were bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, casting a warm and gentle glow over everything. The entire town seemed to radiate tranquility. Laughter echoed from children playing in narrow alleys, while street vendors enthusiastically called out to potential customers. The air was filled with the tantalizing scents of grilled meat and fresh flowers, uplifting the spirits of anyone passing through.
Jay and Vilk strolled down the bustling streets, savoring the rare peace that allowed them to momentarily escape the shadows of battle and immerse themselves in the simplicity of life.
"This place is quite unique," Jay remarked, his eyes scanning the vibrant surroundings. He noticed a cozy tavern adorned with colorful lights and a row of stalls displaying an array of peculiar goods. "These undead and native inhabitants living in harmony with humans—it's really something."
Vilk nodded in agreement, his attention drawn to an elderly undead craftsman carving intricate wooden sculptures. Bent with age, the man's weathered face spoke of countless stories. His deft hands skillfully brought a small deer to life with every stroke of his chisel.
"Look at this craftsmanship," Vilk said, picking up a small wooden figurine and examining it closely. "Even among humans, it's rare to find such skill."
"If you like it, buy one," Jay suggested with a smile. "Consider it a gift for Adam."
Vilk paused, then chuckled softly. Reaching into his pocket, he handed a few coins to the elderly craftsman. "I'll take this one. Thank you."
The old man accepted the money with a kind smile. "Good luck to you, young ones."
They continued down the street and soon came upon a quaint dessert shop with a small sign that read: "Ghost Cakes – Melts in Your Mouth!"
"Shall we try this?" Vilk raised an eyebrow at Jay.
"Absolutely." Without hesitation, Jay handed over some coins and bought two cakes. The delicate pastries shimmered faintly, and with one bite, a rich, creamy flavor enveloped their taste buds.
"This is amazing!" Vilk exclaimed. "I never thought the undead could make something this delicious."
Jay nodded in agreement. "It seems we humans have underestimated them. They clearly have their own art of living."
As they savored the treats, the pair wandered into the town square. There, a group of young undead danced energetically to lively music. Their movements—spins, leaps, and twirls—radiated vitality, defying their lifeless appearance.
"Their dancing is incredible," Vilk said, mesmerized, the last bite of his cake still in his mouth.
"That's life for you," Jay replied, his gaze settling on an undead couple dancing gracefully. A faint smile crossed his lips. "Whether alive or undead, everyone's just trying to make their days a little brighter."
As night fell, lanterns along the streets were lit one by one, casting a dreamlike glow over the entire town. For the first time in a long while, Jay and Vilk felt truly at ease.
"Let's head back to the tavern and get a good night's rest. Who knows what tomorrow will bring," Vilk said.
Jay nodded, his eyes sweeping over the lively town one last time. "I hope we'll get a chance to return someday—for a real vacation."
Turning away, the two disappeared into the lantern-lit streets, leaving behind this brief but heartwarming memory.