"What year is it? Is our….world still here?" Cain asked. He was afraid to ask, but something was telling him that he had to.
Abel tried to be as sensible as he could be, "Honestly, I don't know how long it has been since the era that you were in. It could have been several thousand years. It could be ten times that. I don't know, but during my search for the legendary 'practitioner's route,' I have not found a single trace of a living being."
Cain raised his voice with a strong hint of disappointment, "Not a single trace, you say? Not in the Rogue's Encampment?"
"Yes," Abel frowned for a bit, "It's been a long time since any humans lived there. It's been completely abandoned."
"NO!" Cain called out in pain, "My only reason to live is now gone! I have lived in this tree not because I wanted to, but because I needed to pass down our knowledge! Our civilization exists for our knowledge! Without anyone to inherit our knowledge, how can I keep living?"
