When Haggston Cemetery was first built, its designer chose this solemn and austere place, shrouded by pine and cypress, where the mist lingered, and upon the quiet clearing stood a distinctive tombstone.

Engraved upon the tombstone were the remarkable deeds of its owner, who now lay in eternal sleep beneath, and the epitaph was written in Dwarven runes upon the base, bearing these two lines:

'Among the hallowed company, may he find lasting peace—'

The Dwarf saints are the lords of the mountains, it is said that the sparks scattered under Rotas's hammer became the brightest stars, each one a hero's presence, thus the origin of the Dwarf saints.

And since Dwarven cuneiform is one of the oldest Dwarvish languages in Eteliria, it was not difficult to guess the identity of this tombstone's owner.

The stone read:

'The heroic deeds that he followed all his life, like a poem lingering in the dreams of this land's master, the greatness and bravery he witnessed have long since turned into stories and legends.'

'Passing traveler, please pause for a tale, for beneath this ground rests a noble soul, perhaps you have heard of such a name—'

'The Hero's Sword Bearer, the brave Coachman, the follower of the Dragon Slayer, the shadow behind the distinguished in countless ballads, the tomb of Sir Haggston Duke Hustings.'

If you are well-versed in the Dwarven culture of Eteliria.

Then the meaning behind this name is not hard to discern.

Haggston in Dwarvish signifies a horseman, a coachman, and Duke is a common baptismal name. Dwarves worship the King of the Forge, the great craftsman, the Dwarven protector deity Rotas. Thus, any Dwarf born into their society and receiving the anointment of the Holy Oil would have his own baptismal name.

Lastly, the family name, if one were to use the more evident 'Steelbrow' clan name—rather than Hustings, the human translation—the name would perhaps seem more like a typical Dwarven name.

But 'Earl Hustings' is perhaps more familiar in the Colin Kingdom, for this up-and-coming Dwarven family, which emerged in the human kingdom merely a century ago, has a rather glorious past.

And the reason for this lies in the inscription above.

Several Dragon Worshippers gathered around the tombstone.

To be exact, they were surrounding the tall man among them, his name and identity unknown to any, recognized only by an evocative moniker—Messenger.

The latter was scrutinizing the tombstone.

His companion Bann had a dim eye, the only remaining eye filled with impatience as he looked around and complained, "Mr. Messenger, I know this tombstone is special, but it's not real, it's just an illusion. Shouldn't we be doing something more meaningful?"

The Messenger turned with a faint smile, "It is precisely because it is not real that it deserves a look. Who would have thought that we could return here, thirty years back, to behold all this? This is the starting point of everything, how many people understand that the truth is buried under these ruins?"

Bann shrugged, not comprehending the other's sentiment; to him, nothing was simpler or more straightforward than physically annihilating an opponent. All these things were of no interest to him.

But that was all he dared to say.

He knew all too well how fearsome the other was.

The other seemed quite talkative, continuing, "He was a follower of a hero, Xiuyuede's coachman, following the Dragon Slaying Hero for life, the famous Earl Hustings without a single regret. But how many people know, had it not been for that man's greed, secretly switching out the Dragon's Golden Eyes, the latter should have been cut to pieces by Xiuyuede at the White Tower with a single sword strike, where would we be today?"

Bann fell silent for a moment, somewhat shaken, "But thankfully he did that."

The Messenger shook his head, "You think that was his true intention?"

"My lord, but that is...?"

"Every man harbors greed, only that the Dragon's Golden Eyes took advantage of him. Once greed sprouts, it becomes uncontrollable, desires grow from within, like filth clouding vision, obscuring reason, it makes one increasingly arrogant and conceited, henceforth incomparable, committing acts as if driven mad."

The man's voice was light but carried a chill, "Hence humans are so weak, even heroes cannot escape it, what we seek requires us to cast aside these wavering and ignorant emotions."

He turned back, looking at Bann, "Do you understand, Bann?"

Bann shivered all over, nodding his head after a tremor.

The Pine and Cypress Forest was somewhat quiet, with only a Raven cawing in the distance, but the gatherers paid it no mind, accustomed to such settings.

In the distance, members of the Dragonfire Guild were fighting someone, with flashes of fire and intermittent gunfire sounding like exploding beans.

That direction was precisely towards Hustings Cathedral—

Eager to break the silence, Bann turned to glance in that direction, unsure of what they were waiting for here. The tombstone looked old, covered with moss and with indistinct lettering.

But even if the words were clear, he couldn't recognize what was written.

"My lord, do we really expect those people to recover the Blade of Victory?" he finally couldn't help asking, his tone brimming with skepticism.

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