One week passed like a gentle breeze in Nocturne.
The city of death remained peaceful, as if the fusion of worlds that shook the entire planet had never touched it. Within the pitch-black walls now reinforced with elven magic layers and modern radar technology, various races lived side by side without significant friction. Human survivors from the old Earth chatted casually with refugee elves at the market, dwarf blacksmiths helped tame orcs repair hybrid magic-powered horse carriages, mixed-race children half-human half-elf, half-orc half-dwarf played in the city park without caring about their blood differences. The fertile corpse fields yielded abundant harvests, merchants exported fruits to nearby small towns, and undead guards patrolled calmly, their pitch-black eyes radiating an aura of absolute security.
