After leaving the market area, Veritas and Zihao continue their journey. They walk along the worn dirt paths, with the wind blowing strongly, carrying the scent of earth and dry grass. As the afternoon light begins to soften, they discover a strange area beside the road, where there is a grave.
The grave is surrounded by two wreaths, which are somewhat messy but have a very unique beauty. The wreaths are uneven, seemingly made in haste, yet artistic, with vibrant petals and unevenly blended colors that create a naturally harmonious picture. The gravestone is carved with the image of a leaf, the carving is quite delicate but somewhat rough, as though its owner was not wealthy, but deeply valued nature and life.
Veritas stops, feeling the solemnity of the space around him. He sits down, touches the gravestone, and then asks Zihao, "Do you know whose grave this is?"
Zihao looks at the grave for a long while before shaking his head. "I don't know. I've never heard of this grave. It might belong to someone whom history has forgotten, but still respected by someone in the village."
Veritas thinks for a moment, then nods, sensing the strangeness of the grave. He can't fully understand it, but something in the atmosphere makes him feel an unusual calmness. Even though everything might be forgotten, this grave remains a trace, a testament to a person who once existed, though their life may have been erased by time.
As Veritas and Zihao step out of the market, the air still feels heavy, as though the stories and images they have just witnessed have not yet completely faded. Under the soft afternoon sunlight, they continue down the dirt path. The wind blows gently through the barren fields, carrying a faint smell of smoke from distant areas.
Suddenly, an old man walks past them. He carries a heavy bundle of firewood on his shoulder, moving slowly but steadily. His eyes stop when he sees Veritas and Zihao, a moment of hesitation, then he gently steps closer, as if wanting to share something.
"Over there, there used to be a small village," he begins, his voice hoarse, as if worn down by time. "But it belonged to creatures that are not human. The Mikhland authorities ordered it to be burned down. They said they were a threat, but I only saw those creatures farming and taking care of their families, living peacefully like everyone else."
He pauses for a moment, his gaze sweeping over Veritas and Zihao, then continues softly, "I only saw them as hardworking beings, not deserving of being wiped out like that. But no one spoke up, everyone was afraid. I can't forget that sight..."
The man says no more, silently continuing on his way, carrying his firewood. The surrounding scenery suddenly becomes quiet, as if everything is reflecting on the story he just shared. Veritas and Zihao stand there for a long time, not saying a word, but each of them is weighed down by their own thoughts.
Veritas can't bear the silence any longer. He looks after the man who has disappeared, then turns to Zihao, his face filled with dissatisfaction.
"How can they be so calm in the face of such terrible crimes?" Veritas exclaims, his eyes filled with fury. "Killing an entire people without any compassion."
Zihao looks ahead, his gaze calm. He doesn't reply immediately but quietly continues walking. After a while, he speaks, his voice still cold, without any emotion: "Can you change the world just with compassion? For them, this is the only reality they know. We can't see the world through the lens of what we believe is right. They only know the domination of Mikhland and think what they do is to protect their own survival."
Veritas says nothing, but his eyes still can't quell the sense of injustice inside him. That feeling of helplessness, when cruel actions are seen as normal, tightens his heart.
They continue along the path, when suddenly a boy runs up to them, holding a stick in his hand. The boy seems about twelve, with an innocent face and bright eyes. He starts talking enthusiastically, as if he is the only one who possesses these stories.
"Hey!" the boy says to Veritas and Zihao, his eyes shining. "Have you heard? The Maniac Operative! He's explored 40 dungeons in just 4 months! Imagine that, every three days, he finishes exploring one dungeon!"
The boy continues talking non-stop, his eyes sparkling as he recounts the achievements of the Maniac Operative. "He's amazing! Not only is he a brave warrior, but he's also very kind to non-human races! I heard that he's helped Elves, Dwarves, and even Orcs!"
Veritas hears this, his eyes light up, suddenly recalling something. "Aldo," he says quietly. "I've heard about him. That's Aldo, right?"
Zihao turns back to look at Veritas, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Aldo? Are you sure? Is it the one we've heard of in the stories before? The nerd in our group?"
The boy nods as if it's obvious. "That's right! He's really famous! A very strong person and he helps non-human races when they're in trouble. I heard there were three special moments when he was especially kind to such creatures."
Veritas looks at Zihao, a slight smile forming on his face. "That's him, it's Aldo. I wish he'd show that side of himself more often."
The story continues, and the boy recounts the three moments when the Maniac Operative helped non-human races. But in the middle of the story, a girl suddenly speaks up, innocently: "I thought those green pig-faced ones were extinct?"
All eyes turn to the girl, surprised by her casual remark. Another boy, just as innocent, continues: "Why should they live together? What do they deserve to be treated like humans?"
Veritas and Zihao can't help but feel shocked by these words. Veritas looks at the boy with a puzzled expression, while Zihao seems to have a clearer understanding. He sighs quietly and says, "The 'Superior Human' ideology is deeply ingrained in them. Mikhland has instilled it in them since childhood. What they say is what they've been taught."
Veritas remains silent, surprise and confusion clearly visible in his eyes. He can't understand why these children would think this way about creatures they've never even met.
The day is slowly fading as Veritas and Zihao continue their journey back. The surroundings grow dim, with pale sunlight filtering through the gently drifting clouds. On the dirt road, they pass a caravan carrying goods from a wealthy merchant, and this sight stirs new thoughts within them. The caravan is guarded by a group of neatly dressed soldiers, carrying spears and exuding a stern demeanor. The shiny black horses gallop past, kicking up dust, creating a foggy haze that makes the scene seem distant and unapproachable.
In the center of the caravan, the merchant wears a rich dark red cloak embroidered with intricate gold threads, walking with pride, his golden-embellished shoes making a clattering sound on the dirt road. His gait and demeanor radiate arrogance, as if he doesn't belong to the simple world that Veritas and Zihao are walking through. The caravan passes by, indifferent to the presence of the barefoot farmers carrying water. These farmers, who face hardship every day, continue their work with tired faces and sun-kissed skin, not noticing the existence of the wealthy caravan. They lower their heads and keep walking silently, while the merchant's guards only glance at them as if they don't exist.
This scene makes Veritas feel uneasy, and the blatant injustice before him keeps him from sitting still. He turns to Zihao, his face filled with discomfort: "The rich live in luxury while these people must live in poverty for life. How can everything be so unfair?"
Zihao doesn't respond immediately, instead quietly observing. His eyes follow the caravan, which is slowly disappearing behind them, before he speaks: "This is the world we live in. Mikhland has built a system where injustice is inevitable. Our perspective may be different, but for them, this is reality, and no one thinks they're doing anything wrong."
Veritas falls silent, but the sense of injustice still lingers in his heart. The caravan has deepened his awareness of the class discrimination they are facing.
They continue walking, enveloped in silence once again. However, they unexpectedly come across a group of children playing near the road. These children are probably only around eight or nine years old, busy crafting little figurines out of clay. Some of them gather together, shouting in their game of "warrior fighting monsters."
"We have to kill all the evil monsters! Like my dad did last week!" one of the children exclaims, his voice enthusiastic as if it's the most natural thing.
Veritas stops, his eyes wide with surprise. He can't believe his ears when he hears those words. "Do they think killing is a game?" he exclaims.
Zihao sighs, not answering quickly but simply watching the children. After a moment, he speaks, his voice deep and thoughtful: "That's how they grow up here. These children will become soldiers and never question what they're taught. Mikhland has shaped them since they were young, and they only know how to follow."
Veritas feels an unusual heaviness in his heart. These children, instead of playing like other children elsewhere, only know violence, war, and hatred. He suddenly realizes that the social system in Mikhland affects not only the adults but also deeply influences the minds of the younger generation, who have never known true peace.