When the wanderer and the little girl passed by, Fang Hong instinctively gripped the 'Pride of the Lonely King,' and with a clang, two Energy Angels crossed their blades, guarding him and Atira. However, the imagined danger did not occur, and the two figures, one tall and one short, just like the previous phantoms of Mazak and Lady Misu, passed through him and Atira.
He turned his head instinctively, but the two figures, like the earlier scene, gradually disappeared into that direction's darkness. This scene differed slightly from the phantom of Mazak and Lady Misu; from start to finish, the wanderer and the little girl had no interaction.
Fang Hong released the Ring of Golden Flame in his hand, with a hint of confusion: What is this? What image do the wanderer and the little girl represent? Could the little girl be Eve? And who is the wanderer?
Her father?
But judging by their relationship, it didn't quite seem so.
Furthermore, the wanderer held a longsword wrapped in tattered cloth, always reminding him of the Mo'ya Holy Sword beneath Aimumu Fortress. He couldn't help guessing the connection between the two, but from the timeline, it didn't quite match up.
Long before the Dragon Witch was born, the upheaval had already occurred in Blood Thistle Woods. If someone truly placed the 'Mo'ya Holy Sword' under that castle before then, this little girl before him would by no means be Eve.
"Ade."
Fang Hong turned back, the Elf had unique night vision in darkness, and Atira's gaze glowed in the dim light, much like a cat's eyes. She recalled something, saying, "Do you remember that incident Tianlan encountered a while ago involving those two people?"
Fang Hong pondered for a moment and recalled it. "You're referring to that night we camped amidst the ruins by Long Lake, on the Golden Shore, when Tianlan claimed to see ghosts in the Forest?"
"The ghosts Tianlan saw were actually a wanderer and a little girl."
"She couldn't really tell if it was a boy or a girl." But after saying this, Fang Hong fell into silence. Whether it was a boy or a girl was a trivial detail; the crucial point was the striking similarity between the two people Tianlan saw and the scene they witnessed today.
In Eteliria, mysterious wanderers were everywhere. To evade the Descendants of Flor and the military's eyes, he had once played such a role himself. But an adventurer appearing with a little girl in the wild was not common.
Could it be possible to encounter such scenarios twice in a short time?
And whether what Tianlan saw was a phantom or reality also raised suspicion?
For this scene alone, Fang Hong's heart was filled with doubt and irrationality, yet he said little, merely glancing at the dark, gaping passage ahead, and told the Elf Miss behind him, "Let's continue forward, Miss Atira."
The Elf Miss silently nodded.
They had just entered the Dungeon and encountered such a situation, which made Fang Hong curious about what truth the Dragon's Golden Eyes in his hand might reveal for them. With each step forward, he felt a deeper illusion of returning centuries into history.
He simply lifted the Ring of Golden Flame in his hand, letting its emitted light act as an Illumination Crystal, guiding them step by step.
The light of Golden Star Fire, perhaps for the first time in millennia in a mortal's hand, served as a beacon lighting the way—
For those who had given their lives in the struggle against the Dark Giant Dragon...
The innocent sacrifices.
Perhaps they, too, would let out a slight sigh.
Once symbolizing destruction, but now, at this moment, embodying a symbol of hope.
Perhaps that is the true meaning of this war between humans and dragons.
However, as Fang Hong silently held up the ring, it wasn't long before a low, sorrowful sob echoed from the depths of the darkness ahead—it seemed to be coming from the deepest part of the Dungeon.
In that sobbing, there wasn't much lamentation of fate or resentment of one's circumstances—only endless sorrow and helplessness.
Fang Hong stopped, standing still.
For this time, he heard clearly; it wasn't someone else's voice, but Eve's. It was the girl's low and subtle voice; she cried softly, as if she were the only one left in the vast underground space.
The first time Fang Hong heard that voice, the girl was singing sweetly in the dark, her voice like a nightingale, as if a ray of dawn that could pierce the pitch-dark underground.
This time, as he listened to this voice again, it was more like a bird with broken wings. It had endured the fierce storm and quietly rested there, striving to utter a mournful song with its last ounce of strength.
The meaning between them differed so greatly, and what changes could it have undergone to create such a distinctly different appearance in the same person?
He hadn't yet moved forward, but Atira had already heard the voice and stepped forward.
A scene unfolded before their eyes.
Like a curtain gradually being drawn open, light appeared out of nowhere in the darkness ahead.
A chubby man stood outside the cell door, the light in the darkness came from the candle he held. He carried the candle and stood in the corridor, looking into the iron-barred gate—his head adorned with a soft felt hat, decorated with a few silver balls.