The night had somehow lightened, with a faint glow illuminating the earth, not the dawn's first light but the final glow before sunset.
The afterglow of the sunset lay over the earth of Forbidden Melting Peak, casting a fleeting calm over the ravaged battlefield.
The Hero carefully cradled the long blade left behind by the Undead Warrior in her hands, standing up to head toward the direction of the Cruising bishop and others.
However, the soul of the Ancient Hero remained standing in place, its ethereal figure containing the last trace of attachment, gazing at the sunset over the horizon.
The Hero said no goodbye, nor any unnecessary words.
She knew that the heroic spirit who once fought in unity and stood side by side with her did not need a sorrowful farewell.
