Dream's Continuation

Led by the high priestess, all those who had died in this disaster appeared here!

The high priestess smiled and gently nodded at her disciple, who was fighting alone in the distance.

The old hunter watched little Sian with satisfaction and nodded approvingly. Snowfeather stood on his shoulder, fluttering her white wings as she secretly pecked at the old hunter's fluffy ears.

And there was Serag Stonehoof, the steady old blacksmith who had run a small shop in the village and lived next door to them.

Uncle Blacksmith had been a very friendly neighbor, always greeting them with a squinting smile. Carl often went next door to borrow tools when repairing tents, while Tally occasionally brought over unfinished stew.

The old blacksmith chuckled honestly, scratched his neck, and gave him a grateful look. He understood that these people could stand here without regrets only because of this little fellow's powerful wish.

Little Sian did not quite dare meet his gaze, because he and Baine had made a complete mess of the honest man's smithy.

He secretly looked away and happened to see his father's best friend, the somewhat unreliable Uncle Glen Runetotem.

He was animatedly boasting to his wife while waving at his father. Judging by that smug look, it must have been a glorious sacrifice.

Mrs. Rune Totem did not listen to her foolish husband's rambling. She stroked her flat belly and cast a worried gaze into the distance.

There were so many others, all kinds of people. They had lost their lives in this disaster, yet miraculously returned to life. Without prior arrangement, they had all gathered here, wanting to do something, wanting to repay this kindness, wanting to protect the homeland they cherished together.

The high priestess's gaze met Tally's. Emotion churned across her face before finally becoming a single sentence. "My child, you have suffered..."

Tally sighed. She looked at the high priestess's struggling expression, then smiled helplessly. "Master, you should say... welcome home..."

Meeting Carl's complicated gaze, Glen scratched his head and laughed heartily. "You damned bastard, now you'll get to laugh at me again. But I completed the mission with glory, and I even got myself a good son. Sooner or later, I'll drink that cup of yours!"

Aldo patted Snowfeather, then touched little Sian's forehead. He smiled with satisfaction. "Do not regret me, my student. My journey has ended, but yours will continue..."

The Shu'halo knew well that one person's strength was limited. But for those they loved, if they united as one and faced hardship together, their strength would be invincible!

Sian nodded, then turned to his parents, his expression turning solemn. "Sacrifice is certainly great, but if we do nothing when we are capable of acting, that would be an utterly shameful thing."

"Everyone thinks so. That's why everyone came."

Sian's expression relaxed again. A small hint of hope filled his beautiful brown eyes as he looked into his mother's pale blue ones and pleaded, "This is everyone's wish, and also the selfish plea of a child."

Tally's nose stung, and tears as large as beans rolled down her cheeks. Carl sighed, gently wrapped an arm around his wife, then looked at their son with an awkward smile.

"As expected of my son, Carl Bloodhoof's son. He truly carries the blood of the Bloodhoof family."

Faced with such an outstanding son, the father, who was poor with words, finally spoke some mushy words after so long.

The iron-blooded tough man's face reddened as well. He had always been proud of the little fellow, but saying it aloud before so many people was still embarrassing.

"Idiot Dad, isn't that obvious!"

Little Sian watched his father's embarrassed expression and stuck out his tongue disdainfully.

Looking at the familiar faces of his father and mother, he suddenly smiled again.

"Father, Mother... being your child was really... really wonderful..."

Faced with his son's admission, Carl seemed at a loss. Tally was deeply dissatisfied and secretly punched her husband, making the family's hierarchy perfectly clear.

Carl took a deep breath. He actually had countless things he wanted to tell his son, but those were all things meant for a mother to say.

As a father, there was not much he could give. He had always been accustomed to playing the role a father ought to play. Perhaps that was what leading by example meant. He hoped to be his son's role model, so he seemed somewhat stern.

"As a bull, I will not stop you..."

But the softest corner of a father's heart often melted open when least expected.

Carl shook his head and smiled gently.

"But as a father, what I want to say even more is... don't lose your way. Come home early."

"Yes!"

Little Sian turned his back and rubbed his eyes hard. Holding back the urge to cry, he shouted with all his might.

He would rather let everyone behind him see his embarrassing side than show it to the father he admired most.

"Everyone! I need your help!"

The high priestess gently patted Sian's back. "We will always be with you."

She bent down and softly comforted little Sian by his ear. "Do not be afraid, child. Remember what I taught you. When you feel helpless, simply follow your heart, and courage will come find you..."

Little Sian nodded and returned her smile.

The high priestess took his hand, and the two stepped forward.

As he took that step, he remembered so, so many things—his carefree childhood, the stories of his elders, lively rituals, roaring bonfires, famine... and the disasters and sorrows they had endured—defeated enemies, the birth and passing of life.

He stepped across it, and thus welcomed rebirth.

The high priestess's hand overlapped with the little calf's. A red current leaped into the barrier and gathered within the totem's prison.

Behind them, the departed souls raised their hands one after another. Blue anima poured from every palm, and the waves formed a vast river that connected to little Sian.

This power was immense, yet it would not bring destruction. On the contrary, it would nurture new life.

A touch of green broke through the earth. Awakening from a long slumber, it bloomed into a small white flower upon the scars of the ruins.

This was new vitality. Life's tenacity had still triumphed over disaster.

Not far behind the ritual, the chieftain's group finally arrived. They looked excitedly at the magnificent sight and praised the Earth Mother's miracle in their hearts.

As mentioned before, this disaster had not merely brewed destruction. It had also given birth to something extra.

Something beautiful, something newly born.

Cairne let out a long breath. He stared blankly at the scene, filled with emotion.

The battered Baine Bloodhoof was sleeping on his father's back. A faint smile rested on his lips, as though he too could feel the beauty of this moment.

Dezco Dawnstrider was tending to an injured female Tauren named Lysa Farwalker. They had met during the Nightmare's attack. Dezco had saved her, and they had temporarily joined one another on the road.

A stream of hot tears ran down Bashana Runetotem's cheeks. She felt the call of souls, the summons and joy of life.

Excitedly, she tugged at her father Hamuul's beard and begged him to put her down.

"Father, put me down quickly! We have to help them!"

She made such a fuss that the other little passenger became quite dissatisfied and began to whimper and cry loudly.

Hamuul hurriedly moved his badly injured daughter off his back, then carefully removed the cloth pouch hanging around his neck. Holding the pink little calf, he began humming a lullaby.

Hearing her great-uncle's voice, which sounded like a broken gong, the little one finally stopped crying. What a mischievous little fellow. She had given Hamuul quite a hard time along the way.

Her father had been a hero, but also a bastard. He had left many people a chance to survive, yet all he left his own daughter was the name Guff Runetotem.

The poor little one was less than two hours old, yet she would never understand what kind of people her parents had been. Perhaps an ignorant child could not yet understand the sorrow of loss. Listening to the lullaby, she no longer cried or fussed, her tiny hands grabbing about as she became absorbed in Great-Uncle Hamuul's beard.

Xiao Na sat on the ground. Her leg was badly injured, and she could not get up for the time being.

Her heart was full of anxiety. She knew Sian was fighting over there, and she wanted to help him!

Yes, she had to help him!

But her body could not move at all. What could she do?

As if hearing her inner thoughts, a voice came from behind them.

"You don't need to do anything. Raise your hands, and that will be enough."

Tamara Bloodhoof was slowly walking toward them from behind.

She looked at Cairne, and Cairne turned to look at her. They smiled at one another. Their reunion said more than a thousand words ever could.

New light was born. It too flowed into that immense river of anima, and under Sian's miraculous power, it continuously amplified the Purification cast by the high priestess—amplified it, amplified it again.

A soaring radiance lit up the sky, breaking through the shackles of night alongside the light of dawn.

Amid the singing of the elements, Vel'th slowly opened his eyes. This light was so warm, so dazzling, that even someone as wicked as him suddenly felt a trace of longing for it.

"Ah... light... truly... exists..."

He suddenly recalled the distant past. The gates of memory opened, and the feeling was strange, as though he stood to one side and watched someone else's story.

In a small village in Val'sharah, a young child hugged a patch-covered backpack and reluctantly said farewell to someone.

She was a beautiful woman. She wore no makeup, and her knee-length robe could not be called noble, yet in the child's heart, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

The child was about to leave on a journey to their noble capital, Zin-Azshari. The magic academy there opened its doors to every gifted child.

"Don't worry, Mom! When I return after completing my studies, I'll make sure everyone in the village has clean food to eat! No one will ever fall ill like Sister Starsong again!"

The beautiful woman seemed happy, yet she also seemed sad. But in the end, she still stroked the child's forehead and blessed his journey.

"Elune will bless you, my child..."

She kissed his forehead and said reluctantly, "When you are tired, you can always return here. Mother's arms will always, always be open for my little Vel'th..."

He remembered clearly that the child's eyes had been full of light.

Yes, light had truly existed.

At the final moment of his life, he finally remembered that child's original dream, that simple dream.

This memory had been buried at the end of time, at the end of every journey. As for why, perhaps even he himself could no longer explain it.

But I think that was probably the lingering kindness of a lost soul.

Even while walking amid evil, it was the beauty of the past that he alone had been unwilling to taint, unwilling to deny.

Because it had truly existed.

A blue figure was extending a hand toward him.

"I want to go home, Mother..." he said.

In the end, all that swallowed him was darkness.