Chapter 64: Epilogue

Deep within the Night Whisper Forest, the camp of the Blood Spear Clan was shrouded in a heavy silence.

The bonfire had burned for an entire night, and now only dark red embers remained.

The warriors sat around the fire. No one spoke. No one ate. No one even looked at each other.

The Old Shaman sat in the center, his clouded eyes fixed on the direction of Black Cliff Territory to the north. The Bone Staff that had accompanied him for most of his life lay across his knees, its tip no longer glowing.

“It’s been a whole night.”

Someone whispered, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper scraping against a throat.

“Li Ke, she—”

“Shut up.”

An older warrior shot a fierce glare at the speaker, his fists clenched so tight they cracked.

No one said another word.

They all knew what it meant that no signal fire had come from the Northern City Wall.

The Old Shaman closed his eyes. His aged face revealed nothing, but the Bone Staff trembling slightly in his grip exposed the turmoil within.

That child…

The child who had stood tall before him and said, “I’ll go”…

The child who had chosen to face death in order to avenge her sister…

He still remembered the look in her eyes before she left.

Bright. Determined. Carrying a heartbreaking resolve.

“Li Ke, it’s up to you… For the tribe.”

“Yes! For the tribe!”

Those were her final words.

The Old Shaman opened his eyes and looked north.

Dawn had broken.

The sun rose from the edge of the forest, golden light piercing through layers of branches and leaves, spilling onto the open ground of the camp.

A new day had begun.

But that child would never return.

Just then—

“Someone… someone’s back!”

A young warrior on sentry duty stumbled into the camp, his face a mixture of disbelief and ecstasy.

“It’s Li Ke! She… she brought back a lot of people!”

Shock and incredulity flashed across everyone’s faces. Then, all at once, they stood up.

The Old Shaman was the first to rush out.

He ran fast—faster than an old man who had lived over a century should have been able to. The Bone Staff was left discarded on the ground. In his clouded eyes, an uncontrollable light now blazed.

At the forest’s edge.

A group of figures was walking toward them through the morning light.

At the head was a small figure.

Her fur was a mess, her body covered in dirt and blood. Her once fluffy tail hung limply, gray and dusty.

But her eyes—

Her eyes were still bright. Still determined.

Li Ke.

It was her.

It really was her!

“Li Ke—!”

Someone shouted first.

In the next moment, the entire camp erupted!

The warriors surged forward, surrounding Li Ke in a tight circle.

Some were so excited they couldn’t form coherent words. Others clapped her on the shoulder hard. One even lifted her up and spun her around several times.

“You’re not dead! You’re not dead! I knew you wouldn’t die!”

“You crazy girl, you scared us to death!”

“How did you get back? What happened?”

Li Ke was dizzy from all the commotion, her tail fur nearly bristling. She struggled out of the crowd and stumbled over to the Old Shaman.

“Old Shaman…”

She took a deep breath, about to report what had happened—

The Old Shaman reached out and pulled her into an embrace.

The movement was very gentle, as if he were holding a fragile treasure.

Li Ke froze.

In her memory, the Old Shaman had never hugged her like this.

He had always been stern and steady, like a silent rock.

But now, his aged arms were trembling slightly.

“It’s good that you’re back.” The Old Shaman’s voice was hoarse, yet carried a tenderness Li Ke had never heard before. “It’s good that you’re back.”

Li Ke’s eyes suddenly turned red.

She nodded hard and buried her face in the Old Shaman’s chest.

—She had done it.

She had come back alive.

A long time later.

The bonfire in the camp was rekindled, its warm glow illuminating every excited face.

The orc clansmen she had rescued were being tightly embraced by their own families.

Crying, laughter, and unspeakable gratitude mingled together in the camp.

Li Ke sat beside the Old Shaman, gnawing on a piece of freshly roasted meat as she recounted everything that had happened that night.

From when she climbed over the Northern City Wall.

To when the silver-haired maiden “plucked” her off the wall.

To when that maiden said, “Want to do something big with me?”

To when she sneaked into the dungeon and freed all the clansmen.

To when she used the backup plan the maiden had set up to blow open the city wall and lead the escape.

Finally—

To when that maiden had held off the entire manor’s guards all by herself, held off that Third Order Old Mage, held off everyone who tried to pursue them.

The Old Shaman listened quietly, a complex light flickering in his clouded eyes.

“You mean…”

He spoke slowly. “That mysterious silver-haired maiden never asked for anything in return?”

Li Ke nodded.

“She just said… that having me bring everyone back alive was more useful than her dying there.”

The Old Shaman was silent for a long time.

Then he raised his head and gazed toward Black Cliff Territory in the north.

There, a once imposing Lord’s Mansion had stood.

But now, only a faint wisp of smoke lingered, slowly dissipating in the morning light.

“That maiden…”

The Old Shaman’s voice was aged and solemn.

“She is truly a benefactor of our clan.”

“From now on, every member of the Blood Spear Clan will remember this debt of gratitude.”

He turned to look at Li Ke.

“If one day that maiden needs our help…”

“No matter where she is, no matter what she wants to do—”

“We will stand behind her.”

Li Ke nodded in full agreement.

Morning light poured into the camp, falling on every face that had survived the ordeal.

A new day had truly begun.

—

Epilogue Part Two: The Final Company

Black Cliff Territory, north of the city.

The low stone house still stood quietly at the end of the alley, blending in with the surrounding dilapidation. The last rays of sunset leaked through the gaps in the eaves, casting warm patches of light on the flagstones in front of the door.

The girl lay by the window, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the mouth of the alley.

These past few days, Grandfather came every day.

Before, he had always been busy—so busy that she could only see him once every few days. Sometimes she waited all day, waited until the moon had risen, and still never heard the door creak open.

But now it was different.

Every evening, that familiar figure appeared at the alley entrance right on time.

The corners of the girl’s mouth curved into a sweet smile.

She hopped down from the window and pattered over to the stove to check the dinner she had prepared tonight.

A small pot of wild vegetable soup, two pieces of dark bread, and a small dish of pickled vegetables—this was the best she could manage. Simple, but she had put her heart into it. She had added a few extra kinds of wild greens she had picked outside the city that day, and she had made sure to toast the bread until it was warm.

By the time the door opened, she had just set the soup on the table.

“Grandfather!”

The girl rushed over like a happy little bird and threw herself into Gaierte’s arms.

Gaierte looked down at the upturned little face, a trace of tenderness flashing in his clouded eyes. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

“What did you make today?”

“Wild vegetable soup! I added several kinds—it’s really fragrant!” She pulled him by the hand and guided him to a chair. “Grandfather, taste it quick!”

Gaierte lifted the bowl of soup and took a sip.

It was very light, almost no salt, but it was fresh and sweet, with hardly any bitterness from the wild greens.

“It’s good.”

Hearing Gaierte’s compliment, the girl smiled happily, her grin as radiant as the sunset outside the window.

She sat across from Gaierte, holding her own bowl, drinking in small sips. As she drank, she kept glancing up at him, her eyes filled with undisguised joy.

The sun sank bit by bit.

Golden light streamed through the window lattice, falling over them both, dyeing the little room in warm hues.

The girl suddenly spoke.

“Grandfather, have you not been busy lately?”

Gaierte paused slightly.

He looked up at the innocent face across from him. Those eyes held no suspicion, no test—only the simplest curiosity and the purest happiness.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found himself unable to speak.

Not busy?

No, that wasn’t it.

He just… had to come.

Because he didn’t know when Jiefulun would die.

He didn’t know when the girl would go with him…

Gaierte turned his head slightly, choosing not to tell her those things. He said quietly, “I’ve been… free lately.”

The girl’s eyes lit up.

“Really? That’s wonderful!”

She put down her bowl, propped her chin in her hands, and her eyes curved into crescent moons. “Before, Grandfather was always so busy. I waited and waited, and only got to see you once in a while. Now I can see you every day—I’m so happy!”

Her voice was so light, so innocent, like the first birdsong of spring.

Gaierte’s heart clenched sharply.

Before…

Before, he really had been busy.

Busy cleaning up Jiefulun’s messes, busy suppressing the slaves who wanted to escape, busy driving away those who came seeking revenge.

But now?

Now he was finally free.

But she was running out of time.

The thought stabbed into Gaierte’s chest like a dull knife.

He looked at the beaming face across from him, saw her genuine happiness at his being “free,” saw her eyes full of expectations for the future—

His nose prickled, and tears suddenly spilled out.

Without warning, large drops of tears rolled down his aged face, falling into the bowl, onto the table, onto his trembling hands.

The girl froze.

“Grandfather?”

She scrambled up, ran around the table to Gaierte’s side, and grabbed his sleeve with her small hands. “Grandfather, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Her voice was panicked, helpless.

“Is it… is it because the dinner I made isn’t good?”

She hung her head, looking at the pot of wild vegetable soup, her voice growing softer. “I… I know it might not be as good as Mom’s used to be… but I really tried my best… If you don’t like it, I can make something else tomorrow…”

Gaierte shook his head.

He shook his head desperately.

Then he reached out and pulled the small figure into his arms.

“No, no, that’s not it…”

His voice was so hoarse it was barely audible, tears soaking the girl’s hair.

“It’s not your fault… You did well… You always do your best…”

The girl, hugged in his arms, was a bit confused, but soon she reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Then why is Grandfather crying?” she asked softly, concern in her voice.

Gaierte did not answer.

He only held her tighter, as if trying to etch her into his bones.

For a long, long time.

Until the sun had completely sunk below the horizon, until only the faintest afterglow remained in the room.

Finally, he let go and wiped his tears haphazardly with his sleeve. He looked down at the little face tilted up toward him.

“Grandfather will…”

His voice was still choked, but more determined than ever before.

“Grandfather will stay with you forever.”

“I’ll go shopping with you, buy you good food, buy you new clothes.”

“I’ll do anything you want to do.”

“As long as you’re willing, Grandfather won’t go anywhere.”

The girl blinked.

She didn’t quite understand why Grandfather had said all that, or why he had been crying.

But she understood the meaning of that sentence—

Grandfather would always be with her.

She smiled.

It was a small, pure smile, like a little flower blooming silently in the night.

“I don’t have that many wishes.”

She hugged Gaierte and buried her face in his chest, her voice soft, carrying a trace of simple contentment.

“As long as I can be like this every day—”

“Having dinner together with Grandfather, that’s all I need.”

Gaierte looked down at the small figure in his arms.

The sunset glow fell upon her, outlining her silhouette in warm orange.

He suddenly thought, ‘If only time could stop right now.’

Right at this moment.

In this little room.

In front of this simple dinner.

When she was holding him and saying, “This makes me happy enough.”

But time would not stop.

At least, for now—

He could still hold her.

The last sliver of sunlight outside the window quietly sank below the horizon.

“Mm, Grandfather promises you.”