"This is another side of the beauty of the desert that you have to see." I was still silent, looking at the sick people around me.
"What happened." I looked at people who survived using only their clothes, while small children and women received additional clothes to ward off the cold of the night, which could worsen their condition.
"This is the effect of divine corrosion that humans cannot withstand." So this was the effect of the primordial god, who had disappeared from this world, that caused ordinary humans to be unable to withstand the divine energy.
"Master, do you know where the primordial god is?" I asked him a question that, of course, he didn't know.
"I don't know. I'm a follower of the Blue Moon." My little heart was pierced. Honestly, it is freedom for people to determine their beliefs, but this answer is not too cruel. I gave a big smile as my response.
"So that's the reason why you don't get corrosion." My intuition gave me insight into what he said.
"You are right." His face was calm, and he explained, "How much do you know about the divine path?" I thought for a moment that this was a little taboo, but some people believe that all disasters and plagues come from the creator himself, and so did I, who just found out about it.
"I don't know much, but the relic stone in the judgment explains that people will be saved after following the four divine paths." The four divine paths are a form of blessing to humans during the dark times of war in the second era, after the gods created living creatures.
Among them are alchemists, dragons, priests, and swordmasters. They glorify the creator's divinity, which holds every pillar of human strength. Alchemists with alchemical abilities belonged to a noble family. Dragons are passed on by wizards. The pastor is the one who spreads the creator's blessings in the church. And a swordsman who teaches his knowledge on the top of the mountain. Initially, they conflicted with each other until the four envoys disappeared and again created war in the fourth century.
Alkemist, who is loyal to the empire; the Church, who is hostile to the magicians, who are considered to be wrongly using the power of the creator; and the Swordsman, who sides with the magicians.
"That's a little tricky," I added after recalling some information, even though my head was throbbing again.
"Unfortunately, not all humans can receive divine blessings." He connected, and as usual, he could read my way of thinking.
"Disasters and plagues are just one form of the world heading towards the end." He made it clear as if he already knew which way the universe was going: "There is nothing we can do except protect ourselves."
I nodded in agreement. It didn't take long for me to remember something: "It's also true that if you're not part of the enemy, then who are you?"
That's when the blue eyes fell silent, trying to process words. His face fell silent, thinking about an answer. Trying to explain to me the truth. But in the end, he only answered with nothing more than the word "Yilbegan."
"Hah, I didn't hear that." My face became awkward after listening to the answer he gave. It wasn't because I didn't listen; it was more like a confirming face. My mind remembered something I had forgotten when he said his name.
The memory goes back to when I was little, when I got a birthday present containing a scarf. I have a male and female servant on my left side. My facial expression showed happiness, and I called their names. "Their names..." I can't remember.
Not long after that, I heard an object hit the wall. As my little memories started to emerge, I heard the desperate screams of the war victims. In some of them, I saw a mother hugging her child. and parents who surrender to their fate. But when I looked at Yilbegan, who seemed to be used to all these problems, He looked up at the roof and said, "They're coming."
"They?" I asked if he meant Amram, but he didn't seem to respond.
"You stay here and look after the others." He stood up with his straight body and walked towards the silent desert.
Looking around, the atmosphere of the place was still the same. "We have all felt like this many times." An old man said as worry appeared on my face.
"We always pray to the creator who never returns; only then can we feel calm," he said, something that shocked me. It seemed they were also not afraid of the death that awaited them.
"If I may know, at least from you." "Are you sure the primordial creator will return?"
The old man let out a tired breath and held his cane. Occasionally, he felt the stick from a wooden branch just to increase his fading senses. "At least that's what the man said."
"Yilbegan?"
"He is a persistent man behind his flat face; for us helpless people, he is hope."
"Aren't you worried?"
The old man breathed in the air mixed with building dust. "I am only a small creature in this vast universe; however, this desert land is so beautiful to remember, as is my last wish."
A single tear wet my fragile heart. "May the creator grant your wish." For the second time, I heard a thumping sound between fading breaths.