?Thnari’s voice boomed across the square.

  “My kin and guests from afar, thank you for joining us. Today, we celebrate the freedom of our kin from the crimson shackles those vile Fiend Forgers forced upon us. Today, we look back to honor those who have fallen and those who are still fighting.” He paused, scanning the small crowd gathered before him.

  “Our lifelong friends from the Xanderson Clan have helped us create something remarkable. Records. Records that will forever remind us of our kin, our home, and our duty.”

  He signaled to the elders behind him, who conjured a floating ice block to act as a movie screen. The ice block hovered before the campfire, the orange flames casting a warm glow that highlighted its frame. Though the fire’s flickering light slightly distorted the image quality, it was the best setup we could manage for now.

  Thnari turned to me, nodding. “My friend.”

  I nodded back and inserted the Image Keeper’s crystal into the Image Caster. As the Caster whirred to life, the crystal lit up, and the first images were projected onto the ice screen.

  Gasps rippled through the audience as the images appeared. Many whispered in awe, murmuring, “Ohh,” or “Ahh,” while someone said, “It’s like a play without actors!” Two members of the expedition team went wide-eyed, furiously jotting notes in their notebooks.

  The video began with an Elven couple welcoming their firstborn into the world.

  “Look, look, that’s us!” The husband in the crowd beamed, pointing at the screen. He turned to his wife, who held their infant in her arms. “That’s us, little one,” he said, smiling down at their child with a goofy grin only a proud father could muster.

  “To think we can relive this moment. Even after our child grows up, it will not be lost,” the wife said, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. She wiped them away, her smile warm.

  The people around them all smiled with the couple as the video continued, showing a nervous husband pacing outside a closed door.

  “Why are you so nervous?” Sera’s voice came from the video, eliciting laughter from the crowd.

  Onscreen, the husband scratched his cheek with a sheepish smile, drawing more laughter and heartfelt comments from those watching.

  “You might not understand this yet since you’re still young, but I’m already three hundred and forty-two years old. My wife and I have been married for over two hundred and fifty years.” The man fiddled with the obsidian ring on his finger, his voice as soft as jelly. “It’s been so long, and yet the Guardians only blessed us with a child now. How can I not be nervous?”

  “Is there any message you’d like to share with your child for the future?” Sera asked.

  “A message for my child in the future?” The man pinched his chin, his gaze drifting downward as he fell into thought. After about ten seconds, he looked back up with a bright smile.

  “If there’s one thing I want my little sun to remember, it’s…”

  Before he could finish, the cry of a newborn echoed from behind the closed door. The man’s head snapped back, and without a moment’s hesitation, he bolted into the room.

  The screen went black.

  “What the?” “Is that it?” “Is something broken?” murmurs rippled through the crowd.

  “Why did the play stop halfway?” someone from the expedition team commented, clearly confused.

  The screen lit up again, and this time it showed an Elf hunting alongside his Huskil companion. The video followed them as they traversed snowy terrain, tracked Snow Hares, hunted three down, and returned with their games.

  “Is this all you needed from me, little miss?” the hunter asked, looking toward the camera.

  “Yes, this is perfect. Now, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?” Sera’s voice responded.

  “Please. I owe your brother my life. Answering a few questions is the least I can do.” The hunter rubbed his Huskil’s thick fur, earning a contented purr from the good boy, or girl.

  “What did you feel when you were infected by the crimson fog?”

  “Dreadful,” the hunter replied without hesitation. “In my eyes, my kin turned into monsters, and my loved ones turned into ghosts. The rage I felt toward my helpless self ate away at me day by day. It was like living in a never-ending nightmare where I wanted nothing more than to destroy everything. I thought I’d never wake up from it.”

  “How do you feel now?” Sera continued her questioning.

  “Never better.” The hunter slapped his chest with a bright smile. “I can breathe the fresh air without feeling like I’m inhaling flames. I can run on my own two feet through the chilling snow. I can feel the warm sun on my skin while fishing on the frozen river.”

  He hopped off his Huskil companion, reaching up to pluck a brown fruit from a low-hanging tree branch.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “It’s the smallest things that bring me the most joy. Things I never noticed before. Things I took for granted.”

  The camera bobbed up and down slightly as if Sera were nodding in agreement.

  “Last question. If you could send one message to the people who will watch this record in the future, what would you say?”

  The hunter paused, his face thoughtful. Then he grinned and said, “You only live once, so live as hard as you can. That’s coming from an Elf.” He laughed like he had just delivered the punchline to the world's greatest joke.

  From the crowd, his friend slapped him on the back. “Look at you, you scoundrel, trying to be all cool.”

  The hunter laughed. “Yeah, I guess I’m pretty cool,” he replied, and the two of them erupted into refreshing laughter.

  The video continued to play similar scenes of people who had recovered from the crimson fog.

  Afterward, it shifted to the families of those who had lost loved ones to the fog. Their sadness was evident, but so was their resilience. Each message left behind carried a sense of hope and determination.

  Finally, the screen showed Elfina’s father, Zenth, and her mother, Surin, sitting beside the quilt that covered Abby.

  Elfina stared at the screen unblinkingly, her hands clenched so tightly they had turned pale. Her expression hardened with every passing second.

  “May you return to the Guardians’ embrace,” Surin prayed softly.

  Following her prayer, Elfina’s parents began to sing their people’s song while carrying Abby to his final resting place — a tree inside the Frost Elf’s garden.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Elfina turned to her parents, her voice trembling.

  She almost choked on the words as she struggled to speak. “I had the right to be there when we returned him to the Guardians’ embrace.”

  As if in response to her anguish, the Surin in the video turned toward the camera and spoke, using the nickname only those closest to Elfina knew.

  “Ina, look toward the garden.”

  As the screen faded to black, the crowd instinctively turned their eyes toward the garden.

  From the garden’s edge, the caretaker emerged, holding the little pup I had played with earlier. She walked slowly toward Elfina, her steps deliberate and careful.

  “This is your companion’s child,” the caretaker said softly, handing the pup to Elfina. “Please raise him well.”

  Elfina reached out with trembling hands toward the pup. When the small Huskil looked up at her, she froze for a moment.

  Sensing her hesitation, the pup leaned forward and licked her fingers. Her eyes quivered as she slowly took the little Huskil into her arms. Tears streamed down her face as she sank to her knees, crying loudly while hugging Abby’s son.

  The people around her joined in a group hug, wrapping her in their shared warmth and compassion.

  I smiled softly. At least she didn’t have to act strong anymore.

  The screen flickered back on, transitioning to the final scene. Or rather, the continuation of the first scene.

  The video returned to the husband and wife who had just welcomed their newest family member.

  After the baby let out his first cry, the husband burst into the room. The camera didn’t follow him inside. The video cut ahead, skipping a few seconds to show the couple stepping out of the room with their newborn.

  They gazed lovingly at their baby, a wide smile stretching across their faces.

  “You asked me what I want to say to my little sun in the future, right? It’s simple.” The husband looked up at the camera as the baby grabbed his index finger.

  “Son, greet the world with open arms. Things might be painful now, but it’s only temporary. Every storm will pass eventually."

  He smiled, choosing his words carefully.

  "And remember, unless you decide otherwise, tomorrow is always a better day.”

  The screen faded to black as I turned off the Image Caster.

  My work here was done.

  *Ding

  [You have created a new way to experience Harmony and share it. Level up: Level 13 –> 16]

  [You have introduced new ways to experience Harmony for more than 100 people. You will now gain Experience Points based on the number of individuals who engage with the Harmony you’ve created]

  Sweet. Passive Experience Point.

  Amidst the tearful yet warm and joyous atmosphere, I allowed myself a quiet celebration.

  Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. My instincts flared, and I found myself scanning the surroundings for the source of the unease.

  Then it hit me.

  Elder Aaron and that haggard scholar were nowhere to be found.

  *****

  “We’re here.” Aaron stopped in front of the altar, oblivious to the faint gleam of light reflecting off the crystal surface above him. “Time to fulfill your role.”

  The haggard scholar clutched the lily-embroidered patch on his chest with trembling hands. He took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he asked, “Elder Aaron, will you people truly leave my family alone once I do this?”

  Aaron didn’t bother answering. Instead, his voice dripped with disdain as he retorted, “What choice do you have?”

  He sneered before turning to leave. “They won’t die, and we won’t harm them. You have my word.”

  Left alone, the scholar looked up at the dome above him. Tears streamed down his face as memories of fleeting happiness replayed in his mind, a life now out of reach.

  “Please forgive this worthless father of yours, Lincy. I couldn’t give you a peaceful childhood. And Nina… please forgive this failure of a husband. I failed to provide for you and made you endure so much hardship.”

  He collapsed to his knees, his body wracked with sobs as he repeated.

  “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

  Moments passed before he rose, his expression hardening. “At least with my death, you won’t suffer from the debt anymore.” His voice carried a bitter resolve. Then, with a venomous hiss, he spat, “If it weren’t for that Xanderson bastard… it’s all because of him.”

  The scholar removed his outer clothing, revealing skin marked by layers of subspaces, each stuffed with Demonic Qi. With trembling fingers, he activated a Rune, shattering every subspace.

  “Aaaaagh!” He screamed in agony as Demonic Qi erupted from his body, surging upward and slamming into the wooden dome above.

  The reaction was instantaneous.

  The Demonic Qi triggered a catastrophic chain reaction, causing the subspaces embedded in the Isolation World Tree’s trunk to burst one after another. Crimson fog spilled out in waves, spreading rapidly until it enveloped the entire tree, painting it in a sinister red haze.

  *****

  The deafening sound of shattering glass erupted in the air, forcing everyone to cover their ears. It reverberated like a violent symphony, leaving no corner untouched.

  “What is happening?” someone screamed, their voice barely cutting through the chaos.

  “The… the great tree!” a woman cried, pointing a trembling finger toward the sky.

  All eyes followed her gesture to see a dense column of crimson fog spiraling upward, piercing the heavens like a jagged wound in the sky.

  Commands were barked in an attempt to restore order amidst the chaos.

  But for me, amidst the deafening noise and the growing despair, my focus was on the notification that appeared in my mind.

  *Ding

  [Subquest updated]

  ===============

  Sub quest: Infected tree

  | Status: FAIL

  | Consequences:

  – The Isolation World Tree has been contaminated. The Great Barrier is breached. Abyss Crawler will now flood south.

  ===============

  “Fuck!” I cursed and dashed toward the Frost’s Elf World Tree.