Ten days after the avalanche in Snow Valley.
The news of the Divine Drakebane's demise in Snow Dragon Pool spread worldwide.
In these ten days, nearly 50 so-called search and rescue teams had entered Snow Valley, looking for survivors and remains.
In the end, they found nothing.
They have deployed a massive workforce, resources, and heavy machinery to excavate and search the depths of the Snow Dragon Pool.
No trace of the dragon dagger or information about the Divine Drakebane was found.
During this time, major global media outlets provided daily updates on the rescue efforts in Snow Valley.
As time passed, fewer and fewer people paid attention to the incident.
This sensitive event gradually faded from public view.
The world continued its façade of peace.
The high and mighty remained perched in their ivory towers, pretending to govern with wisdom while indulging in their desires behind closed doors.
The common folk, bound by their struggles, persisted in their daily grind—pushing forward stubbornly, bearing the weight of survival for a few measly coins.
Those who wielded power, courted destruction, practiced virtue, and suffered hardships—each continued along their own trajectory, engaging in deception, flattery, oppression, and mutual harm.
Order was restored to the world.
Forces secretly monitoring the Divine Drakebane's fate began revealing their true faces.
Online discussions about the Divine Drakebane swiftly turned negative.
Over 80% of the media claimed that Divine Drakebane's very existence was the greatest threat to global security.
A tide of condemnation swept across the world.
Compared to the fervor of the international media, Draconia remained eerily silent over these past ten days, as if nothing had happened.
The warning issued by Quintana Residence regarding Snow Valley had vanished like a stone sinking into the sea. There was no response, no explanation.
All major institutions and media outlets remained utterly silent, their collective silence unnerving in its precision.
It was as if everything that happened ten days ago was an illusion.
The vows spoken in blood seemed never to have existed, dissipating like wind-blown dust.
Discussions about Divine Drakebane dwindled within Draconia.
Ten days—such a miraculous period!
Miraculous enough to erase emotions, dilute passion, and cleanse the past until it was spotless, leaving no trace behind.
Silence had a purpose. To erase seeds of defiance before they could ignite a revolution.
It is to ensure that order—restored and pacified—remained free of resistance and devoid of hope.
All that was once expected, once within reach, had returned to square one.
In the end, Divine Dakebane's journey of vengeance and enlightenment became a tragic echo of Sisyphus's futile struggle—nothing more than a joke in the eyes of those who passed judgment.
To stand alone against the world's corruption was, after all, nothing but a grand farce.
The lone warrior once again played out his tragic role.
Ten days after the missile strike on Snow Dragon Pool, the place had fallen into a deathly stillness, as if nothing had ever happened.
One hundred feet beneath the pool's surface, within a naturally formed icy cavern, Robin lay motionless at the center of a 30-foot-wide frozen pool.
His body was ice-cased, with only his nose and eyes exposed.
To his left, 65 feet away, two Warlords, Tiago, and Jessiah, were tightly wedged between massive chunks of ice.
They were still alive.
The two Warlords had used their formidable inner force to resist the freezing cold.
However, the immense weight of the ice around them had trapped them, rendering them immobile.
By the tenth day at the bottom of the valley, Tiago and Jessiah, utterly exhausted, had finally managed to melt a portion of the surrounding ice, creating just enough space to fit a human body.
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