The sky was overcast the next day, a blanket of pale gray clouds stretching over the quiet city. The air hung heavy over the cemetery at the northeastern edge of Algora. A soft wind stirred the trees, their branches swaying like mourners at a silent vigil. Rows of fresh graves dotted the hillside, their markers simple, yet solemn. Flowers lay beside many—some placed with gentle reverence, others clutched tightly in the hands of those too broken to let go.
A large group had gathered, dressed in mourning black or muted tones. Among them were adventurers from the Guild, local townsfolk, and grieving families. Vel stood with Shin, Garret, Darius, the members of the Silver Star party, Shuri, and a few researchers who had survived the attack. The atmosphere was somber. Conversations were hushed. Even the cries were muffled, like the world itself had decided to grieve quietly today.
Tessa knelt before three simple gravestones. Her shoulders trembled, her hands clutching a worn piece of cloth—part of a team banner. Her voice cracked with grief as she muttered apologies and names under her breath, words only she could hear. Lysa slowly approached and knelt beside her, placing a comforting hand on Tessa's back. Sylvi followed, sitting beside them with a quiet gaze.
"They did what they could have," Lysa whispered.
"And they'd be proud of you, for being alive now." Sylvi added, voice gentle.
Tessa didn't answer at first. She just shook her head, tears dripping onto the earth. But their presence grounded her, and slowly, she leaned against Lysa, allowing the moment to soften.
Vel glanced toward the graves, his jaw tight. "They were all good people and soldiers," he murmured. "They didn't deserve this."
Rein, standing just behind him, nodded solemnly. "They fought to save as many citizens as they could. Without them… more would've died."
Vel's gaze drifted. "What about Faren and Elin?"
"They're alive," Rein said quietly. "But Elin's injuries were bad. Faren's hand might take time to recover, even with magic. They're both resting at the Guild's infirmary. Darius had them moved this morning."
Garret folded his arms as he looked out at the gravestones.
"I hate this part," he said, his voice low. "No matter how many battles we survive, this never gets easier."
Darius nodded beside him, eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his hat. "It shouldn't get easier," he said. "If it ever does, we've lost something important."
Shin gave a short nod, eyes scanning the crowd with his usual sharpness, though his posture was less composed than usual. He held his hands behind his back, fingers clenched. Shuri stood a few paces away, arms crossed tightly. She hadn't spoken much since the attack. Her eyes were red, and her usually tidy hair was loosely tied back. Her gaze never lifted from the ground.
Behind her, the Clan Masters—Grey of Black Star, Serina of Crimson Wing, and Derek of Stonefang—stood in silence, their presence a solemn show of respect.
A distant trumpet cry pierced the air, followed by the rhythmic sound of armored boots.
The crowd turned as a line of uniformed Algora soldiers marched in perfect unison. Rows of white banners fluttered in the wind, each marked with the Alogora's insignia.
At the front of the formation stood General Vahn Dros, clad in ceremonial black and gold armor, and beside him, Lord Halric, his noble presence commanding silence.
At General Dros's signal, each soldier took a gleaming ceremonial blade from their side, raised it high—and then brought it down.
CLANG.
One after another, in a synchronized wave of steel, the soldiers plunged their swords into the ground in front of them.
"In valor, we serve."
The words rang out loud and unified, echoing across the plains. The swords shimmered under the setting sun—symbols of sacrifice and unwavering duty.
A moment of silence followed.
Then, General Dros stepped forward.
"Let the names of the brave be remembered. Their strength held the line. Their will gave others time to escape. Their sacrifice was not in vain."
Behind him, a long stone tablet had been newly engraved with the names of the fallen. A military priest stepped forward to bless the site, speaking ancient rites that had been carried through generations.
Lord Halric spoke next, his voice steady and proud.
"Algora does not forget. For every name etched here, a hundred will rise inspired. Let this be our vow—we will not falter."
The moment passed in respectful silence.
As the ceremony ended, people began to leave in small groups, trailing down the stone path that led back into the city. The scent of incense lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of fresh soil and fallen leaves.
Vel remained at the top of the hill with Shin, looking down at the graves. "This wasn't just a random monster rampage," he said, voice low but firm. "They came for the artifacts. And they came for Shuri."
Shin's eyes narrowed. "I agree. This was planned—staged to cause chaos and confusion while they extracted what they needed."
Vel exhaled slowly, watching as Tessa was led away by Mira and Ryden. "We lost too many. We need to figure out what they were after exactly. Get the report from Shuri when she's ready. I want details—especially on the cuff they recovered."
"I'll speak to her tonight," Shin replied. "And the captured intruder is being interrogated. They're trained… tight-lipped. But they'll break. We'll find out who gave the order."
Vel's gaze hardened. "And when we do, we'll make sure this doesn't happen again."
The two stood in silence for a long moment, the weight of responsibility settling on their shoulders once more.
As they turned to leave, the scene panned out—past the graves, past the somber gathering now dispersing, past the city still recovering from last night's horror.
High on a shadowed ridge overlooking the cemetery, a figure in a dark cloak stood unmoving.
He watched everything from a distance.
With a soft flick of a sleeve, the figure turned, disappearing into the treeline.