The Old Graveyard

The next morning, sunlight dispelled the thin mist hanging over the outskirts of Orlando City. The air was cool, carrying the scent of grass and dew.

After a simple breakfast, Xia Lin and Sera followed the vague map to the abandoned Old Graveyard.

The iron gate at the graveyard entrance was already covered in rust, hanging crookedly open like the weather-beaten mouth of an old man, silently speaking of years of desolation.

A few toppled gravestones lay scattered near the entrance, their inscriptions blurred and their surfaces overgrown with moss and unknown vines.

Sunlight filtered through the sparse canopy, casting mottled shadows on the ground and dispelling some of the gloom.

"With the sun blazing like a furnace, what Undead Creature in its right mind would crawl out to sun its bones right now?" Xia Lin squinted as he surveyed the graveyard basking in sunlight. The new longsword at his waist swayed gently with his movements.

"Shut up, human." Sera's voice came from behind her veil, as cold as ever. Her purple tail flicked impatiently beneath her robe. "You'd better save that jinxing mouth of yours and stop talking those creatures who like to nap in the dark awake. When that happens, I'm not responsible for burying you."

Xia Lin pursed his lips and fell silent, beginning to study the graveyard carefully.

They said that in the early days of Orlando City's founding, this Old Graveyard had been the final resting place of many nobles and wealthy merchants.

Back then, gravestones had stood in neat rows, and the statues had been exquisitely carved. Relatives often came to pay their respects, and the air had been filled with the scent of flowers and incense.

As the city expanded and new burial grounds were established, this place gradually fell into disuse.

War, plague, and the merciless passage of time had turned what was once a place of glory into the ruin it was now.

Broken statues, collapsed tombs, and withered trees that moaned in the night wind together formed this forgotten corner.

The "Graveyard Ghost" the old gnome had mentioned supposedly liked to grow in damp, deathly still places like this, where it would rarely be disturbed.

Just as Xia Lin and Sera were about to step through the rusted iron gate, they heard several hushed voices nearby.

Xia Lin looked toward the sound and saw three people standing on another path beside the graveyard entrance.

At their head was a young girl who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen.

She wore a well-tailored, pale blue riding outfit that made her skin look as fair as snow. Her long golden hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall, gleaming with a healthy sheen in the sunlight.

She even had a short sword set with tiny gemstones hanging at her waist. It looked more like a gorgeous ornament than a weapon.

A carefree air played across the girl's face. Her blue-green eyes wandered curiously over the graveyard, a faint smile at the corners of her mouth. The desolate scene seemed to her no more than a somewhat unusual sight along the way on an outing.

Beside the girl stood a young man who looked a little older.

He wore an elegant, dark outfit that allowed him to move freely. Tall and handsome, he still had a shadow of gloom between his brows that refused to fade.

His gaze at Xia Lin and Sera was wary and openly scrutinizing. One hand rested instinctively on the hilt at his waist, and he angled his body toward the girl, as if ready to shield her at any moment.

Xia Lin noticed that whenever the young man spoke to the girl, he bowed slightly, his posture deliberately respectful. Yet deep in his eyes, he seemed to be desperately hiding something.

The third person, standing behind the others, was a silent, middle-aged man.

He was around forty, broad-shouldered, and clad in well-maintained Chainmail that gleamed with a metallic sheen. A Kite Shield and a battle-axe, both shimmering with magical light, were strapped to his back.

He stood like a silent iron tower, radiating the steady composure of a seasoned veteran.

When he saw Xia Lin and Sera, he merely nodded calmly in greeting. His eyes were sharp but not hostile.

"Are you two also here at the Old Graveyard... to visit old friends?" the middle-aged man asked first, his voice steady.

Xia Lin's thoughts stirred. The three were dressed finely and had an air unlike that of ordinary adventurers. The girl in particular didn't look like she would come to a place like this for a "spring outing."

"Something like that," Xia Lin replied vaguely, putting on his professional smile. "We're looking for something. What about you?"

"We have some private business to take care of." The young man cut in coldly. His tone was stiff, and his gaze swept over Xia Lin's reinforced leather armor and longsword with a hint of disdain.

The girl seemed unbothered by the tense atmosphere. Instead, she studied Sera with interest, especially the robe and veil that covered her from head to toe. "Aren't you hot, big sister?" she asked, tilting her head. Her voice rang like a silver bell.

Sera didn't respond. Her gaze grew even colder beneath her veil.

"Ahem." The middle-aged man stepped in to smooth things over, giving Xia Lin and Sera an apologetic smile. "She's a child and doesn't know any better. Please excuse her."

"Go ahead." Xia Lin shrugged. He didn't want to get tangled up with people who already looked like trouble. He tugged at Sera's sleeve to signal that she should go in first.

Sera snorted and strode through the rusted iron gate into the graveyard.

Xia Lin followed close behind, passing the three of them.

Once Xia Lin and Sera had disappeared among the crooked gravestones deeper in the graveyard, the young man immediately turned to the girl, his voice tinged with urgency and disapproval. "Miss! Why come in person to such a filthy place? What if you catch something unclean..."

"Oh, Roland, you're starting to nag just like my father." The girl pouted and shook the delicate silver-bell bracelet on her wrist. "Besides, Little Feather is sick. How could I just watch it suffer and do nothing?"

At her words, the middle-aged man wore a helpless yet indulgent smile. He stepped forward and gently smoothed the strands of hair the wind had tousled. "If you ask me, Miss Freya, you're mostly using this chance to sneak out and have some fun, aren't you? But what a hardship for us old bones, coming all the way out to this wilderness to shiver in the cold." Though his words were teasing, his eyes were full of concern and loyalty.

Freya pulled a face, then waved her little hand and headed toward the rusted iron gate. "All right, all right. I know how much you dote on me. Since we're here, let's get down to business! Little Feather can't wait!"

Baroque watched the girl's light-footed retreat, his expression turning solemn. He looked at Roland and said gravely, "Keep Miss safe." Then he followed Freya. Before entering the graveyard, he solemnly promised her, "Don't worry, Miss. No matter what danger we face, old Bar will lay down his life to keep you safe."

Freya glanced back with a smile. Sunlight on the tips of her golden hair was almost dazzling. "Uncle Baroque, I've heard that so many times, my ears are practically callused!" Her tone was light, as if she paid no mind to the danger that might lie ahead. She bounced into the quiet graveyard.

Roland followed the two of them. Hearing Baroque's impassioned vow and seeing Freya behave as if she were on a spring outing, he couldn't help grumbling inwardly: Lay down his life? Hmph. If it ever comes to that, I'll probably have gone ahead and reported to the God of Death first...

He took a deep breath, gripped the hilt at his waist, swept a wary gaze over the shadowy gravestones and statues, and hurried after them.