From the moment I was chosen by the holy relic

Eric leaned against a collapsed stone pillar, the cracks in his Resurrection Armor still throbbing, but he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. He looked into the distance; Eileen was putting away her staff, a bead of sweat sliding down her cheek, blown away by the wind into the ashes. The afterglow of war still lingered in her eyes, like stars that had burned out but hadn't yet died out.

"Eileen," he whispered, as everyone was almost back to normal, "I need to introduce one of our friends."

Eileen turned her head and looked at the front of the elven team. Elotian had taken off her blood-stained shoulder armor, her hair was slightly messy, but her eyebrows were still proud.

"You must be Irene." Elotian spoke first, her voice carrying a clear and solemn tone. "I've heard Eric mention you, but I never expected that you would single-handedly hold off the Black Witch. This battle is one of the most magnificent magical duels I've ever witnessed."

"Thank you." Eileen nodded gently, her eyes gentle and calm. "But it wasn't all my doing. It's all thanks to you who shattered the magic core earlier."

"You're too modest," Elotian said, looking at her earnestly. "It's because of you that Diarant is still able to retain half of its strength."

Eric grinned and said, "If you had been any later, we might have been wiped out."

Eileen sighed softly, her expression weary yet still clear: "After clearing away the fragments of the magic core, I spent some time using the Holy Rune Stone to absorb its remaining magic power before I was able to suppress its spread."

"Holy Runestone?" Eric frowned. "So it has this function?"

Eileen nodded, tacitly agreeing. Eric's expression darkened, his gaze slowly sweeping over the ruined ancient city. His voice was low and deep: "This city... we've finally protected it."

Eileen gazed at the distant, now-extinguished ruins of the clock tower, her expression unwavering: "But it is still a scene of devastation. The Black Witch has not been defeated; she has merely retreated. She will return, and if we leave, Diarant will fall once more."

"You mean?" Leah walked over, her hair still covered in ash, her expression serious.

"We should stay." Eileen looked at each of them earnestly. "Although the magic core is destroyed, the Black Witch may reappear, and we will have no defenses left."

"I will stay as well," Elotian said immediately, her tone unwavering. "The forest elves were once protected by this city, and now I must repay that kindness."

"I'll stay too," Eric said softly, looking up at the crumbling walls bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun.

"But we can't rely on just a few people," Leah said rationally. "Eileen, you said you want to set up a defensive magic circle, how can we help?"

Eileen stood quietly beside the ruins of the dilapidated clock tower, her long hair fluttering gently in the breeze. Her robes beneath her cloak were stained with dust and ash, yet this did not diminish her unwavering, steadfast demeanor. An inextinguishable light still burned in her eyes, like the still-standing heart of this shattered city.

"I can set up a defensive magic circle with Leah," she said, her voice low but exceptionally clear. "The two of us are enough."

"The two of you?" Eric frowned. "How could you possibly bear such a burden?"

"We're not trying to finish this in a day," Eileen shook her head. "The magic array will be constructed gradually in sections, laying out the structure, not creating it instantly."

"I can do that," Leah said firmly. "You make the arrangements, and I'll carry them out."

Eileen nodded gently, looking at Eric and Elotian: "And you...you are the ones who truly made this city stand up again."

Eloti paused for a moment, took a deep breath of the lingering ashen air of Diarant, and said solemnly, "You mean, let us..."

"Go and contact those who fought alongside us." Eileen's gaze was steady. "Go to Balk Creek Village and Sermmoth Village, and recall the codebreakers and healers; go to the mountain paths, the forests, and the roadsides, and search for the soldiers scattered everywhere. Tell them: Diarant is still here, and we are still here."

"You want them to come back and rebuild together?" Leah looked at her, her tone a mixture of hope and worry.

"This city doesn't exist because of its stone bricks, but because we refuse to give it up," Eileen said slowly. "As long as we are still here, it has never truly fallen."

"You truly deserve the title of mage." Elotian looked at her, her tone filled with undisguised respect. "You are not merely a caster who destroys magic cores; you are the one who ignites the flame."

Eileen smiled softly but didn't reply, only gazing at the ruins with piercing eyes.

Eric pondered for a moment, then suddenly said, "We need to go to that abandoned granary in the southwest suburbs first. A dozen soldiers said they wanted to set up a temporary camp there. If it's still there, we can bring them back with us."

"I remember the old codebreaker from Balk Creek said he would bring his students back if the city was cleaned up," Leah added.

"Then it's settled." Eileen waved her hand, and a rune scroll appeared in her palm. "This is a low-level amulet that can protect against mild magical erosion. Wearing this will ensure your survival even if you are attacked by magic again."

She handed the scroll to Eric, then looked at Elotian: "You are skilled at tracking in the forest. I need your help, Eric, to identify the remnants of demonic energy lurking outside the city."

Elotian took another amulet with green leaf patterns and nodded, saying, "You can set up the formation with peace of mind. I will bring them back, bring back everyone who can still fight and think."

Eric wrapped the scroll around his wrist, his gaze as resolute as the rising sun: "Wait for our return."

"I will," Eileen replied softly, her voice devoid of grand pronouncements, but brimming with an unquestionable composure. "This city will no longer exist solely for the sake of darkness."

The group remained silent.

They stood before the ruined hall, just as they had when they first entered this dead city days before. But this time, they were not stepping into destruction, but towards reconstruction.

Eric glanced back at Eileen one last time.

She stood in the center of the magic circle, where light and shadow intertwined, her cloak billowing slightly, her golden hair reflecting the rising morning light, like a spark igniting in a raging fire. He felt a sudden realization, as if he understood something, and murmured to himself:

"She is the spark, but we are the fuel."

Then, he set off with Elotian and Lia. Stepping on the embers, crossing broken walls, they headed towards the mountains and villages, bringing the still-burning glimmer of light back to the people.

Eileen stood alone in the heart of the city, her eyes closed, her hands forming a mudra.

The first ring of the Holy Rune has slowly emerged, like a series of lighthouses that will illuminate Diarant, a city that was once corrupted by darkness, in the years to come—a city that has not died.

Several days have passed, and the ancient city of Diarant, which was once shrouded in evil, is now slowly recovering from the ruins.

Amidst the ruins, stonemasons and soldiers toiled together, rebuilding the city walls; under the burned eaves, women and the elderly moved rubble, rebuilding their homes. The laughter of children finally returned to the street corners, subtle yet real; the neighing of warhorses echoed through the west gate at dusk, accompanied by reinforcements from Balkxi and Sermuk Village, bringing food, medicine, codebreakers' scrolls, and cartloads of timber and hope for reconstruction.

On the plaza, Eileen, draped in a light gray cloak, her tattered boots still visible beneath her robes, stood with her hands behind her back before the steps of the city lord's hall, overlooking the city's inhabitants as they returned to their posts and began construction. Her gaze was serene and profound, as if it could pierce through the thick layers of dust and smoke, revealing the source of the storm that had not yet fully subsided.

"We have buried the spirit stones for the sixth line of defense." Leah stepped forward, her forehead still dusty, but her expression was much more relaxed. "According to the structure you set, the seven magic arrays should be completely closed by tomorrow dusk."

"Very good." Eileen nodded, her gaze still fixed on the central node. "I will complete the construction of the central node this evening."

Leah blinked. "Aren't you going to take a break?"

"I'm afraid that if I stop, I'll hear the exhaustion in my own body," Eileen said with a wry smile.

At this moment, several villagers walked up the steps, led by Mota, an old soldier who had followed the old city lord in resisting the Black Witch. He knelt on one knee, his expression solemn: "Lady Eileen, the villagers have something to discuss. Please come in and talk."

Eileen paused, then slowly followed him into the hall. Nearly twenty people were gathered there, all militia leaders and codebreaker elders who had returned from Sermmoth Village and Balk Creek Village. They spoke in hushed tones, and upon seeing her enter, they stood up respectfully.

Mota spoke up, "The old city lord perished protecting us, and Diarant is still alive today, all thanks to you. Now that everything needs rebuilding, everyone unanimously recommends you as the new city lord. Please accept."

The hall fell silent for a moment, except for the soft crackling of pine branches from the fireplace.

Eileen shook her head slightly, her voice calm yet undeniable: "I excel at setting up formations and breaking spells, but I'm not good at governance or planning. You need a guide, not a mage."

"But you are the one who led us out of the brink of death," said a young scout. "Without you, there would be no city walls, no people, and no glimmer of hope today."

Eileen slowly turned around and looked out the window at the clock tower that was under renovation.

"You should choose someone who can bring people confidence and direction even in times of peace," she said softly. "I'm not suitable."

The crowd whispered amongst themselves, some disappointed, some puzzled. Mota said in a deep voice, "If you are unwilling, do you have anyone you would recommend?"

Eileen pondered for a moment, then turned to look at the hall door. Elotian was standing there, her cloak still damp with morning dew, the feather ornaments behind her ears fluttering slightly, her expression as serene as ever.

"Lord Elotian," Eileen called out, "are you willing to accept the position of city lord?"

Elotian was taken aback, then walked into the hall, drawing everyone's attention.

"Don't you think it's an inhuman joke to put an elf who lives in the forest and isn't even used to the smell of human kitchens in the position of city lord?" He smiled. "I don't deny that I can manage a war, but I can't manage the daily necessities of a city."

"You are the most suitable person," Mota whispered.

"That's probably because you haven't seen me struggle to wash my face with cold water in the morning," Elotian shrugged, speaking earnestly. "I belong to the forest, my people are in the forest, and I've never considered growing old under a stone wall."

After saying that, he looked at Eileen with a calm and clear gaze: "If you really want me to be the city lord, then you might as well try sitting in that position yourself again."

Eileen shook her head with a wry smile.

After a moment of silence, a young man from Sermwood Village said, "In that case, shouldn't we hold a popular election?"

"I agree," Leah nodded. "Let everyone decide who should lead the way in the future, instead of passing the buck on the steps."

Everyone agreed, and Mota finally nodded: "Then the election will be held in the city square three days from now."

Eileen stood in the center of the crowd, gazing at the city that was slowly recovering, and said softly:

"May you see those who truly wish to protect this city."

Eileen gazed at the bright sky outside the window. Sunlight streamed through the bricks and rubble, draping the city, which had died once, in a gentle golden veil. She tilted her head slightly and asked softly:

"Where's Eric? Why hasn't he come?"

Elotian leaned against the window, sunlight reflecting off his long, silvery hair, but his gaze held a hint of hesitation: "He hasn't been in a good mood these past few days."

"Something's not right?" Leah, standing on the other side, turned around upon hearing this. "What happened? Is he injured?"

"He's physically fine." Elotian shook her head, paused, and then slowly said, "But he seems preoccupied. I tried to ask him... but he always remained silent and wouldn't say more."

Leah frowned, a sense of unease rising in her heart: "He's not the kind of person who falls silent easily."

"I think so too," Elotian said softly, "but for some reason, this time it was as if something heavy was choking him."

Eileen lowered her eyelashes, saying nothing. Leah, however, had already turned and walked towards the door, her tone concise:

"I'm going to find him."