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Mark lay on the wooden bed, exhausted, but his dream was very active. In his dream, he returned to the moment when he fought side by side with Arya, and every move and smile of hers was so clear. He saw Arya holding a dagger and bravely facing the shadow, her red hair flying in the wind like a burning flame. However, the picture suddenly changed, and Arya's figure began to become transparent and gradually dissipated into the air, just like in reality.

"Arya!" Mark shouted in his dream, he stretched out his hand to grab her, but only grabbed nothingness. He felt a sense of despair, and this feeling of loss was stronger than any physical pain.

Suddenly, Arya's voice rang in his ears, clear and firm: "Mark, don't give up."

Mark looked around, but he couldn't see Arya's figure, only her voice echoed in the empty dream. "Arya, where are you?" he asked anxiously

"I'm right beside you, Mark." Arya's voice seemed to come from all directions, "We will accompany you to fight to the end."

Mark's heart surged with strength, he knew this was the last message Arya left him. "I will, Arya. I promise, I won't give up." He swore in his dream.

The dream began to blur, and Mark felt himself waking up gradually. He opened his eyes, and the sunlight shone on his face through the window, warm and real. He took a deep breath and sat up.

Albert noticed Mark's movement, walked to his side, and asked with concern: "Did you have a nightmare?"

Mark shook his head, and his eyes flashed with determination. "No, I dreamed of Arya."

Albert comforted: "Letting go at the right time can better move forward, we should not be obsessed with the past!"

Mark stood up from the bed, walked to the window, and took a deep breath of fresh air. "Don't worry. Albert, I know what to do."

Albert was silent for a while, then nodded. "We have enough fragments of the Holy Stone now. Please sense where the other fragments are. We will collect them as soon as possible."

Mark closed his eyes again and felt the location of the fragments of the Holy Stone. He felt a subtle pulsation, like the beating of a heart, but slower and more powerful. He could feel the energy of the fragments flowing in the air, like an invisible river, guiding his direction. He opened his eyes and pointed to the east. "It's in that direction, I can feel it."

Albert quickly packed his bags and the two were ready to set off. Walking out of the cabin, the sun shone on them, bringing a hint of warmth. They walked through the dense forest, and the sun shone on them in patches through the gaps in the leaves. Birds sang happily on the branches, and the crisp bird calls echoed in the forest, forming a sharp contrast with the silence in the cave.

Their footsteps echoed on the forest path, and each step was firm and powerful. After walking for about an hour, they came to an open area. The sun was brighter here, and the grass was dotted with colorful wild flowers, and butterflies danced among the flowers. Mark and Albert stopped here to take a short break.

Mark picked a small flower and put it in his palm, feeling the softness of the petals and the vitality of life. He thought of Arya, her smile, her courage, and her sacrifice. He took a deep breath and pinned the small flower on his chest as a memorial to Arya.

Albert sat on a stone and took out dry food and water from his bag. They ate silently.

After resting, they continued to move forward. The sun gradually set in the west, and the clouds on the horizon were dyed golden. Their shadows stretched on the ground and moved with their footsteps. The animals in the forest began to become active, preparing for the arrival of night.

As night fell, the moon and stars flickered in the sky. Mark and Albert stopped under a big tree and prepared to spend the night here. They lit a bonfire, and the fire jumped in the darkness, providing them with warmth and light.

Mark leaned against the tree trunk, looking at the bonfire, his heart full of thoughts. He thought of Arya and the days they spent together. He knew that although Arya was gone, her spirit would always be with him.

Albert sat by the campfire, holding a stick in his hand, gently stirring the flames. He looked at Mark and whispered, "Mark, we will all remember Arya. Her courage and sacrifice will inspire us to move forward."

Mark nodded, with a firm light in his eyes. "Yes, Arya will always live in our hearts."

As the night deepened, the campfire gradually went out, leaving only some faint flames.