Going through the main street, the five of them arrived near the eastern side of the fifth sector, which was close to the fortress wall guarding the city.
A road that appeared familiar, yet unfamiliar, filled Mangrel's sight.
Broken houses with the ceiling having multiple holes. The exterior was that of old wood, appearing extremely brittle and dark. Not one or two, every house in this street was in the same condition.
It felt almost like a domino effect could be created with a simple push of a house.
Mangrel glanced at the houses for a second, before looking forward.
'From their condition, they probably won't be able to make it through the next blue month, where rain falls throughout the month. And the snow month will cause a certain death for everyone here.'
In the grim atmosphere, where everything appeared exceedingly gloomy, five kids could be seen walking with little to no conversation between them. It was like they were affected by the atmosphere, keeping their silence.
The number of people walking on this street was very low, only a dozen people were seen passing by in the past two minutes.
'...It's surprising Veneir could live in this environment for such a long time. Well, no one would be interested in a child, unless it's a pedophile.' Mangrel truthfully didn't care, as long as Veneir could live till the next month, it was all good.
Mangrel had virtually no connection to Veneir on an emotional level.
Just what in the world was there that he couldn't sacrifice?
Up till now, Mangrel was always presented with two choices all over his past life.
It was either cultivation, which was the path to his goal, true freedom, and desires, the worldly matters, that attracted everyone.
Everyone has the right to choose when options are presented to them.
No matter how hard the choices are, we have to do it nevertheless. Choosing what one's heart dictates is the right answer, even if it harms others or makes them dissatisfied. The only thing necessary to make such decision is determination and resolve.
Hence the saying, life is nothing but a series of extreme choices.
What is the opinion of others?
It was nothing but gibberish spoken by others. Nevertheless, people let others lead their life ignoring their emotions.
Human nurture was hard to overcome, among all the hurdles in life.
Unless one was able to be unaffected by the view of others, they would only be led and used by others for the rest of their life.
'What is praise? It is nothing but bullshit that others spew. Cursing? It is nothing but the squander of a loser. This world is not easy enough for cursing to be of any use.'
His wife, his daughter, his son, his past temperament, and everything. Mangrel sacrificed all of it so that he could walk in the path of cultivation. It was not wrong to say that he had done nothing but sacrifice everything, his whole life.
Every last of the choices was like a sword that was stabbed into his heart again and again.
However, in the end, they were choices that he made. As he matured while walking in the demonic path, Mangrel came to accept his regrets.
At last, he became how he was right at the moment.
Not regretting his action one bit, no matter how evil or underhanded it was. The past left no shadow in his heart, fully overcome as something of the past. Now, only one goal stays in his heart, devoid of anything else.
Freedom.
An illusionary dream that Mangrel has from hundreds of years ago. Every moment of his life, he dreams and thinks only of attaining this one dream. It was deeply etched into his heart and mind, he was absolutely obsessed with it.
Nothing could ever matter to him.
'I will destroy anything that gets in the way of my dream. It doesn't matter how high the hurdles are, I will not fall or give up.' Heat surged to Mangrel's head.
When he reached this point, Mangrel felt no pressure in his mind at all, only steeled determination was present.
Becoming a cultivator and overcoming all the problems presented by the Rueven city, was just the first step.
Walking in the almost desolate street for a few more minutes, everyone reached Veneir's house at last. It was no different than the houses they saw while heading here, run-down to the max. The only difference being it was cleaner.
"Don't move around excessively when inside, my house is quite flimsy." Veneir smiled wryly, making other smiles too.
"My house is no better you know? It would probably break if I just pushed it with my finger." Devis joked, waving around his index finger.
"Yeah...My mother is worried that we won't make it past the next blue month too. We will have to live in the alleyways then..." Heitrent said sorrowfully, not noticing the existence of Meren's blank gaze.
Mangrel brushed it off: "Don't worry, I will show you around if the time comes."
Seeing Mangrel's usual calm and blunt attitude, Everyone smiled slightly.
"Ah! Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." Heitrent rubbed his head awkwardly.
"It's no big deal." Mangrel turned to the entrance of the house. Prompting the others to do so too.
Truthfully, Mangrel didn't want to stay in this place for long. Meeting some gangster-like characters was not out of the question after all.
Mangrel had a bad feeling for a while now, he felt many gazes landing upon them, as they walked here. It was most likely that many people were attracted to the bread in Devis and Veneir's hands.
'And from Veneir's frowning face, it seems like she was facing some oppression here. I should just take a look at Veneir's brother and then make up a reason to go back.' A sharp light inconspicuously flashed in Mangrel's eyes.
The chance of something happening was 50℅.
It was more than enough reason for Mangrel to keep his distance from here. He had no intention of risking his life in the slightest. He made sure to look at his surroundings seriously, so that he could escape in the worst-case scenario too.
The other three did not notice any danger at all, entering the house behind mangrel's back.
Creak~ creak~ creak~
Only the sound of the wood creaking rang out in the room for a while. The interior of the house had cobwebs, here and there all around the ceiling. The fine dust born from old wood wafted through the air.
There was only one window, from where sunlight poured.
And in the piece of long rag, a kid lay with a red face.