Ethereal World: Vicious Cannon Fodder's Immortality Road novel Chapter 932

Chapter 932: Dark Elves, Twilight Desert Town

[Scarlet Continent, Forgotten Domain, Northern Region, Duskhollow Town]

Twilight Desert Town lay hidden in the endless expanse of the Ember Dune Desert, veiled beneath enchantments that dimmed the sun and cloaked the town in eternal twilight. Obsidian and dark sandstone buildings rose from the sands, their surfaces etched with glowing indigo runes that pulsed softly in the dusk.

Silken canopies of black, violet, and silver fluttered above winding alleys, shading markets filled with rare spices, enchanted relics, and shimmering artifacts. Obsidian fountains spilled moon-silver water, while towering Umbral Trees with shadow-black leaves and ghostly azure wisps offered cool refuge amidst the heat.

The air shimmered with ancient magic, carrying scents of dusk-blooming flowers and desert winds heavy with forgotten secrets. Every structure, built from enchanted stone and dark crystal, was designed to withstand sandstorms and time itself. Twilight Desert Town was a sanctuary of shadows and starlight, a place where danger and beauty intertwined.

The immortal residents of Twilight Desert Town moved with an effortless grace, their robes woven from desertweave silk, a rare fabric spun from the threads of sand-gliding moths and infused with spiritual energy. Light as air yet durable as steel, the fabric shimmered subtly, shifting hues with the light. It adapted seamlessly to the desert’s extremes, cooling the body under the midday sun and warming it when the night grew cold.

Their attire flowed like liquid shadow, layered with protective hoods, veils, and sashes embroidered with sigils of warding and longevity. Each garment was both practical and elegant, a harmony of function and artistry.

And then, there were the Dark Elves.

Tall and statuesque, they moved with an otherworldly elegance, their sun-kissed skin gleaming like polished onyx under the desert sky. Their eyes were luminous, pearl-white, glowing faintly like captured starlight. Their hair, the color of ash and smoke, cascaded in untamed waves, carrying an air of quiet mystique.

When Shenlian Yingyue saw them, her thoughts drifted far away. These ethereal beings reminded her of De Lun, Xing Juan, Mo Da, and Xiang Ju who were the slaves she rescued, and the dark-skinned people of the Spiritual Continent, those whom others had called Southern Pot, along with the people from Luminous Moon Palace in Poisonous Valley of the Outer Domain. (Chapter 605)

How were they faring now? she wondered. Had the bigotry lessened, or had time only deepened the divides?

The more she traveled, the more she understood: racism was a poison that infected every world, every era. It festered in the hearts of humans, manifesting in hatred over lineage, or creed.

But she couldn’t wholly judge those who harbored such prejudices. It was something societies around the world struggled with for centuries, and while many made progress, racism still existed in different forms.

The true culprits were the systems, rotten, manipulative structures designed to pit humans against one another. Those in power twisted history, rewrote narratives, and weaponized culture, beauty standard, and religion. They painted villains as heroes and heroes as villains, turning black to white and white to black.

Generations of descendants, raised on these lies, grew to despise one another, and sometimes, even themselves.

How many innocent lives had been lost? How many souls had been shattered, all for battles over gods, origins, or borders?

The world was not black and white. It existed in shades of gray. Right and wrong were merely perspectives, shaped by experience and circumstance.

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