"Hey, have you heard? Those travelers from out of town are supposedly going to challenge the heart of the Forgotten City!" A passing traveler spoke loudly in the tavern, attracting the attention of those around him.
"Challenge the Forgotten City? Are they kidding? That's a place even royal expeditions dare not easily set foot in!" A burly man with a full beard sneered, his wine glass suddenly slamming down in his hand.
"Who can argue with that? But I heard they received guidance from their guardian spirits, so they might actually have some skill." In a corner, a mysterious man wearing an eye patch whispered, his tone tinged with uncertain anticipation.
"Guardian spirits? You believe in such ethereal things?" The big man scoffed disdainfully, but the eyes of those around him clearly flickered with curiosity and awe.
Just as the discussion inside the tavern was growing increasingly heated, the door was gently pushed open, and the Mist Walkers stepped inside. Their appearance instantly drew everyone's attention.
"Look, here they come!" A girl pointed at them excitedly, her voice full of admiration.
"Hey, heroes, tell us about your adventures!" someone shouted from the crowd, followed by a chorus of agreement.
The Mistwalker smiled slightly, glanced around, and finally fixed his gaze on the curious girl. "Every adventure is an exploration of the unknown, and the true answer often lies hidden in the most unexpected places. Our story has only just begun."
The old hunter clapped his hands, drawing a moment of silence. "Little girl, don't worry. When our story becomes even more exciting, someone will naturally turn it into a ballad and sing it far and wide."
Upon hearing this, the crowd felt a little disappointed, but more than that, they were filled with intense curiosity and anticipation. The tavern was once again filled with laughter and chatter, as if they were celebrating the upcoming legend in advance.
That night, under the clear moonlight, the group set up camp on the edge of the city, gathered around a campfire, and discussed their plans for the next day.
“If the test is truly as the guardian spirit said, then we need to be fully prepared,” the young thief said earnestly, already checking his equipment to ensure everything was in perfect working order.
“That’s right. Whether it’s a test of wisdom or a contest of strength, we can’t let our guard down.” The scholar pushed up his glasses and lightly traced his finger across the map, simulating possible routes.
"Beyond strength, what's more important is trust and unity." The old hunter looked deeply at each person, his gaze filled with a steadfastness and warmth that came after weathering many storms.
The Mist Walker paused for a moment, then finally spoke: "Whatever we face tomorrow, remember why we set out. For this world, and for those who still hold hope. We are the Mist Walkers, the first ray of light before dawn."
In the firelight, the five figures intertwined, creating the warmest scene in the endless night. And the impending challenge seemed to pale in comparison to their unwavering faith.
"I hope tomorrow will be a good day, making our journey smoother." The young thief looked up at the starry sky and whispered a wish.
"Tomorrow will be a good day, because we will make it a good day," the Mist Walker said with a smile that exuded undeniable confidence and composure.
As night deepened, the conversations gradually subsided, and the camp returned to tranquility, with only the occasional sound of the wind and the crackling of the campfire foreshadowing an adventure that would determine the fate of the world.
"Goodnight, my companions. Tomorrow, we will write history together," the Mistwalker whispered, his voice as soft as a vow, echoing in the hearts of every team member.
Above the Forgotten City, the stars seemed to shine even brighter because of the magnificent epic that was about to unfold, as if even the universe itself was quietly awaiting this test of courage, wisdom, and faith...
The next morning, the first rays of sunlight pierced through the thin mist, illuminating the camp of the Mist Walkers. The group, fully prepared, their faces etched with determination and anticipation. At the city gate, guards and passersby cast glances of either admiration or worry.
"Look, is that the team that's going to challenge the core area of the Forgotten City? They're truly fearless!" A woman, holding her child's hand, pointed and exclaimed, her eyes full of amazement.
The child looked up and asked, "Mommy, will they succeed?"
The woman lowered her head and said gently, "Anything is possible as long as there is light in your heart. They are our hope."
The group walked through the bustling market, attracting attention with every step. A fruit vendor put down his scales and exclaimed, "Have you heard? They've found clues to ancient artifacts—powerful artifacts that could change the world!"
The old man beside him shook his head and said in a deep voice, "Young people, strength is important, but willpower is even more important. Whether they can bear that weight remains to be seen."
Entering the desolate area on the edge of the Forgotten City, the surrounding environment gradually became eerie and oppressive. The Mistwalker stopped, looked around, and whispered, "From here on, every step must be taken with caution. The test the guardian spirit spoke of may be hidden in this deathly silence."
Just then, the ground suddenly trembled, and an ancient stone door slowly rose, as if in response to their arrival. Amidst their astonishment, the young thief chuckled, "It seems the test has come sooner than expected."
As they stepped through the stone gate, space seemed to warp, and they found themselves in a strange labyrinth. Ancient runes were carved into the walls, and a chilling power permeated the air.
“I’ve seen these runes in ancient texts before; they’re traps that combine guidance and misdirection.” The scholar analyzed nervously, tracing the path in the air with his finger.
"A trap?" The old hunter narrowed his eyes. Years of hunting intuition made him sense something unusual. "Here, our eyes and ears can deceive us. Only intuition and trust are indispensable."
As the group moved slowly forward, a gust of wind suddenly blew by, and a voice whispered in their ears: "Travelers, are you willing to pay the price for the key to the next stop?"
The group exchanged bewildered glances. The Mist Walker replied firmly, "The price is one we've already prepared for. But before that, I must know where this key will lead us."
"The path leads to the abyss of knowledge, or to the pinnacle of power. The choice is yours." The voice faded away, leaving a mysterious echo in the air.
Just then, a shadowy creature appeared silently before them, a strange light flashing in its eyes: "Traveler, not every choice allows for turning back. Even if the road ahead is unknown, will you continue onward?"
“That’s right.” The Mistwalker smiled, looking at each team member, whose eyes burned with the same fire of conviction, “Because we are the Mistwalkers, the light that illuminates the darkness.”
"Then go. Remember, every choice you make will determine your fate and the future of this world." The shadow creature turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared into the depths of the labyrinth.
Night fell again, and they lit a campfire amidst the ruins. All around, shadowy figures seemed to be watching, while the conversations of the Mistwalkers added an air of mystery to the silent night.
"No matter what lies ahead, as long as we're together, there's nothing we can't overcome." The young thief gazed at the leaping flames, his eyes filled with confidence.
The old hunter nodded, his voice carrying the weight of years: "Yes, we have already proven ourselves once. From now on, whatever the trials may be, we must prove with our actions that hope never dies and light endures forever."
The Mistwalker stood up and gazed into the seemingly endless depths of the labyrinth: "Tomorrow will be a new beginning. And on this forgotten land, we will write our own legend with our actions."
In the firelight, the figures of the group reunited. No words were needed; their unwavering conviction spoke volumes. And in the night sky, the stars continued to shine, as if silently witnessing all of this—the great journey of the Mist Walkers had only just begun.
"But don't forget, the City of Oblivion is called Oblivion because it hides secrets that even time itself cannot bear to reveal. Are we really ready to uncover all the mysteries?" As the scholar's words fell, silence returned, leaving only endless contemplation and a yearning for the unknown echoing in the night sky.
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