From the moment I was chosen by the holy relic

They traveled south for several days.

The journey was not easy. Although Diarant's magic core was destroyed, the magical beasts scattered in the mountains and fields outside the city still roamed the night like out-of-control shadows; and the devastated land, the scorched forest edges, the broken bridges and the messy post roads all silently told the story of the devastation this land had suffered.

Eric's boots had developed new cracks, and although he walked with a steady gait, he felt a weariness that had accumulated over time. As for Leah, though she hadn't complained a word, Eric could tell from the slight furrow in her brow when she removed her headband that she had overdrawn too much of her healing and purifying magic. Elotian and Issel remained silent, like two unsheathed longbows, ready to strike back at the darkness once more.

One evening at dusk, they finally crossed the low hill and, in the afterglow of the setting sun, saw Balxi Village.

It was a tranquil and simple little village, hidden among rolling hills and low-hanging frost forests. The winding path, like a belt of gravel washed by water, led to a small stone bridge. Under the bridge flowed the clear water of Bal Creek, which shimmered with an amber light in the twilight and gently lapped against the bank.

The houses in the village are all built of mud, stone and old wood, with roofs mostly made of dry thatch. In front of the houses, green vegetables and a few herbs are planted. Roosters crow and dogs bark. Children in old but clean clothes run along the stream, and women squat in the stream washing clothes, chatting and laughing while looking at the travelers who have come from afar.

But the village was more crowded than usual. The small market square was packed with refugees carrying packs and wearing tattered cloaks. Some were caravan survivors with tattered boots and vacant eyes, some were wounded soldiers, and others were weary sorcerers and codebreakers with talismans wrapped around their heads. They were there to lay low, to wait for rescue, or simply to eke out a living.

"Is this Bal Creek Village?" Eric asked softly, gazing at the unfamiliar yet warm settlement before him.

"Yes." Isel nodded, pointing to a two-story stone house in the distance. "That's the village chief's house."

"Let's split up and inquire about Eileen," Elotian said in a deep voice. "Don't attract attention."

They entered the village without revealing their identities, only whispering to a few seemingly unperturbed individuals during gaps in the crowd. These included an old hunter wrapped in a wool cloak, a female mage distributing food with a copper spoon, and a young codebreaker changing the bandages of a wounded soldier.

Finally, the latter mentioned that name.

"Eileen?" The codebreaker looked up. He was about twenty years old, with tired but determined eyes. "You are her friends? She did stay here for a few days and helped us set up a temporary defensive array."

"Where is she?" Eric blurted out almost immediately.

"A few days ago, she led the weakest and oldest codebreakers, along with a few Diarant soldiers who were willing to stay and fight, southward. They said that Balk Creek Village couldn't accommodate everyone, and there was a village called Sermmoth to the south. She hoped that our two villages could support each other, so that if this place were attacked again, the refugees would have a way out."

"Serfy Village..." Lia murmured.

“It’s a village in a valley,” Isel added. “I’ve heard it’s secluded and quiet, and the way to it is through a narrow, cloud-shrouded cliff path that’s hard to find.”

"Didn't she say when she'd be back?" Eric pressed.

"No." The codebreaker hesitated for a moment. "She said you would go to Sermourne Village to find her."

"Thank you." Eric's eyes were firm. "We'll set off for Sermmoth Village first thing tomorrow morning."

"Let's rest for the night," Lia said. "We're all a bit tired, and he's injured." She pointed to the weak elven warrior.

"I'll take care of him," Isel said softly, her eyes tender.

Eric had no objection. He stood at the head of Bal Creek Bridge, gazing at the starlight reflected in the distant water, his mind filled with that aloof yet gentle face and her never-give-up tone.

"Wait for me, Eileen."

A gentle breeze blew by, ruffling the edges of his cloak and brushing the dust from his shoulders. And in the reflection of the stars and the water, they finally saw the light ahead.

The next morning, before the mist had completely dissipated, the morning light slanted down, casting a soft, pale golden glow on the rooftops and streams of Balxi Village.

Eric had already fastened his cloak, checked the clasp of his scabbard, and confirmed that his armor and bracers were in order. His steps were slightly heavy, the fatigue from yesterday's journey not yet completely gone, but his eyes were clear and bright; he was going to find her.

"Is everything ready?" Leah asked, turning back as she changed the bandages on an injured codebreaker. Eric nodded, then looked at Elotian and Issel, who were also ready to go.

"Let's try to take the main road," Elotian suggested. "It avoids the swamp; although it's a longer route, there are more people and the road is clearer."

"I'll listen to you," Eric said. "You know this area better than we do."

The elves nodded, and they set off.

Along the way, the sunlight gradually pierced through the fog, illuminating the mountains and plains.

Along the way, pedestrians came in an endless stream, mostly civilians with their families, and some soldiers carrying wounded soldiers. They looked exhausted but carried the hope of rebirth, as if leaving the nightmare of Diarant meant that everything would eventually be over.

"These people are miracles of survival," Leah said softly, her gaze sweeping over a mother carrying her injured child on her back, a hint of tenderness appearing in her eyes.

Elotian did not respond, but a rare seriousness appeared between his brows. The forest elf badge on his body gleamed in the sunlight, and whenever the patrolling soldiers saw the silver and green leaf emblem, they would immediately show respect and let him pass without any hindrance.

"It seems you elves have quite a bit of prestige," Eric teased.

"We rarely appear in the mortal world," Elotian replied calmly, "but every time we do, we leave a lasting impression."

"Like shooting through the Black Witch's personal guards with an arrow?" Leah said with a smile.

"Like that arrow." Elotian finally showed a slight smile.

In the afternoon, the group arrived at Serwu Village.

This is a small village nestled in a valley, between dense forests and a misty stream. Rows of low houses with white lime-tiled roofs are scattered along the stream, and an old mill stands by the water, its waterwheel turning slowly and creaking. Several cows and sheep graze leisurely on the meadow, and the air is filled with the aroma of hay and toasted bread.

"It doesn't look like a shelter at all," Isel said softly.

"Perhaps that's precisely Eileen's brilliance," Lia replied, "using the most ordinary shell to conceal the most important things."

Although the village was small, it was packed with people. The wells on the street corners, the open spaces in the square, and even the abandoned granaries were crowded with refugees who had fled from the north. They were repairing roofs, cooking hot porridge, and building wooden sheds. They talked to each other in hushed tones and helped one another. Although life was hard, they were orderly.

Eric inquired his way to the village and found an old, tattered translator outside the mill at the edge of the village. He was wearing a gray robe and sitting alone on a stone platform, toying with a few tattered parchment scrolls in his hands.

"Have you seen a female mage? She had blonde hair, was young, carried a staff, and seemed to have come here with many codebreakers."

The old man looked up, his gaze sweeping over Eric and his group through his thick glasses: "Are you her friends?"

"Yes," Eric answered eagerly.

The old man nodded: "She did come, with about thirty companions, half of whom were colleagues I knew. This little mage is remarkable. She didn't let anyone get into trouble along the way; wild beasts, magical obstacles, night attacks—she blocked them all. Her magic isn't just strong, but more importantly, she's calm, methodical, and has a worldly-wise air about her."

The old man paused, as if suddenly remembering something, and pointed to a thick stack of parchment in his arms.

"Oh, and she also brought a book with her. It didn't look like an ordinary document, but rather some kind of magical tome, though the content was obscure and disorganized. We couldn't understand it, and she didn't expect us to decipher the whole thing."

"What did she say?" Leah pressed.

"She broke the book down into several parts, assigning one part to each person, so no one could see the whole picture. She said, 'Don't try to understand the whole book; just understand the part you have.'"

The old man sighed softly and continued, "That girl seemed to be deliberately keeping the true contents of the book from us. Sometimes I wonder if she was using us to translate it, or if she was testing us."

"Can you tell what kind of book that is?" Eric asked.

The old man shook his head, his gaze filled with a hint of awe: "I don't recognize it. I've spent my whole life deciphering ancient texts, but this book has no structure I'm familiar with. It doesn't seem to be written by humans, but it doesn't seem to be Elvish or Dwarven either."

"Did she say what the book was going to be used for?" Isel asked softly.

"She didn't say anything, she just stared intently at the translated paragraphs, then silently copied down a few pages, her expression growing increasingly serious."

At this point, the old man looked up at Eric and the others, a hint of hidden worry in his eyes.

"Where is she now?" Eric asked anxiously.

"Well," the old man rubbed his beard, "she received a letter the other day, her face changed instantly, she didn't say anything, immediately grabbed the fastest horse in the village, and headed north."

"North?" Eric frowned. "We came from the north, why haven't we seen her?"

Elotian pondered for a moment: "Perhaps she chose another path. There are many side paths along the edge of the forest; it's faster to avoid the main road."

"Didn't she say anything?" Leah asked.

The old man shook his head: "No, she left very quickly, without leaving a word."

Eric's heart tightened, and his eyes suddenly flashed.

"She must have gone looking for us," he said. "She thought we were still trapped in Diarant."

Elotian frowned: "She's all alone. If she really goes there..."

"Let's go back the way we came!" Eric said decisively, without the slightest hesitation.

"Now?" Leah looked at him.

"Right away," Eric answered decisively. "She went on that adventure because she thought we weren't coming back; now that we're back, we can't let her face it alone."

Elotian nodded: "Then I will walk alongside you."

Leah patted Eric's arm armor: "Well, I don't want her to come back and find that none of us are here."