The carriage rolled along the dusty road, the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves creating a soothing sound. The trees gradually thinned out, giving way to open fields dotted with wildflowers. Zina could see the outline of a town in the distance, smoke rising from chimneys and the faint murmur of daily life growing louder as they approached.
As they neared the town gates, the merchant guided the carriage to a stop. Zina hopped down, her sandals lightly tapping the ground. She stretched her arms over her head, breathing in the fresh air. "Haya! Here goes!" she said with a cheerful grin, feeling excited to explore a new place.
"Thanks, mister," Zina said, turning to the merchant with an angelic smile that seemed to light up her whole face.
The merchant, still shaken by the events of the day but grateful beyond words, smiled back at her. His face, a mix of relief and gratitude, was damp with sweat that rolled down his forehead and brows. "You're welcome, and thank you for saving my life," he said, his voice sincere, though it quivered a bit. He wiped his forehead with a cloth, his smile broad despite the tremor in his voice.
Zina tilted her head curiously, her pink hair cascading over her shoulders. "Mister, what town is this?" she asked, looking around at the bustling streets filled with people.
The merchant pointed towards a wooden sign near the gate, where the town's name was painted in bold letters. "It's Lage Town," he replied.
Zina furrowed her brows, a puzzled expression on her face. "What a weird name," she mused aloud, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Are you sure you're not joking, mister?"
The merchant chuckled, shaking his head. "Yes, I am not joking. It's really called Lage Town," he confirmed, his eyes crinkling with amusement at her innocent confusion.
Zina nodded, accepting the odd name with a shrug. She waved her hand in farewell. "Thanks again, mister!" she called out as she began walking towards the town, her steps light and carefree.
The town was alive with activity. Vendors shouted their wares from colorful stalls, children played in the streets, and townspeople bustled about, busy with their daily tasks. The smell of freshly baked bread and the sound of laughter filled the air. Zina marveled at the liveliness, her eyes wide with wonder. She weaved through the crowd, smiling at the friendly faces she passed. The energy of the town was infectious, and she felt her spirits lift with each step.
As she walked further into the town, the merchant suddenly called out, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. "Wait! I want to give you something!" He rummaged through his belongings, pulling out a small pouch filled with gold coins.
Zina turned, already some distance away. She shook her head, smiling warmly. "Thanks, mister, but I don't need it for now," she said, her voice gentle and sincere. She waved again, continuing on her way.
The merchant stood there, scratching his head, a bemused smile on his face. He let out a small, nervous laugh, still trying to comprehend the encounter he had just experienced. "How on earth...," he muttered to himself, watching as the extraordinary little girl blended into the crowd, her pink hair a beacon of light in the bustling town. The townspeople around him continued with their business, unaware that they had just witnessed a small miracle pass through their midst.
Zina navigated through the bustling crowd, her mind drifting away from the noise and commotion around her. Vendors called out, hawking their goods—fruits, fabrics, and handmade trinkets. The air was filled with the mixed scents of spices, freshly baked bread, and the faint tang of the nearby sea. People moved in every direction, some hurrying to their destinations while others leisurely strolled, chatting and laughing with friends. Zina felt a nudge from a passerby, and she quickly stepped aside, her mind still preoccupied.
"It's really hard," Zina thought to her system, her mental voice tinged with frustration. "Really, really hard to pretend to be a light-hearted girl, especially after that encounter with the orc in the forest with Mister Merchant." A small chuckle escaped her lips, drawing a curious glance from a nearby child, who quickly returned to playing with his friends.
"Yes, it is, Goddess," the system replied in a soft, soothing tone that resonated in Zina's mind, offering a sense of calm amidst the chaos of the marketplace.
Zina sighed, glancing at the sky above, where birds flew freely, unburdened by thoughts or worries. The sky was a brilliant blue, with only a few fluffy clouds lazily drifting by. "System," she began, her voice thoughtful and almost wistful, "is this world a simulation or not? I was really wondering...sometimes it all feels so...crafted."
The system paused, as if considering her question carefully. The silence seemed to stretch on, broken only by the hum of the market and the occasional clink of coins. "Sorry, I cannot answer that," the system finally said, its tone steady and unwavering. "You must find out for yourself as the Goddess of Creation."
Zina pouted slightly, her steps slowing as she passed a stall selling brightly colored scarves. The fabric fluttered in the breeze, mirroring the thoughts that flitted through her mind. "Please," she pleaded quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the surrounding noise. "Just a hint, a little glance..."
The system's response was swift and firm, "No."
A small sigh escaped Zina's lips, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "Oh..." she murmured, feeling a mix of disappointment and curiosity. The bustling town around her seemed to blur as her thoughts turned inward, pondering the nature of her existence and the world she inhabited.
The system, sensing her dismay, spoke again, this time with a gentle, encouraging tone. "Please don't be sad, Goddess. There is plenty more to explore. The world is vast, filled with wonders and mysteries. You will find your answers in time."
Zina nodded slowly, her spirits lifting just a bit. "Okay," she replied, her voice soft but resolute. Her eyes scanned the marketplace, taking in the sights and sounds anew. The vibrancy of the town, the joy in the children's laughter, and the warmth in the people's smiles—it all felt real, tangible. Maybe, just maybe, the answers she sought lay in the experiences she would have, in the people she would meet, and in the places she would see.
With a small, determined smile, Zina resumed her walk through the town, her steps lighter than before. The world awaited, and she was ready to discover its secrets, one step at a time.
Suddenly, a shout pierced through the bustling crowd of the marketplace, cutting through the lively chatter and laughter like a knife. "Out of the way! There's a crazy thief rampaging!" A voice yelled, panic and urgency evident in its tone. The noise of the crowd grew louder, a mix of gasps, screams, and hurried footsteps as people scattered, desperate to avoid the chaos that was unfolding.
In the midst of the frenzied crowd, a burly man with a wild look in his eyes shoved his way through, tipping over stalls with a rough hand. The clattering of wood and the crash of falling goods filled the air, mingling with the distressed cries of vendors. The man moved with a cruel smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Give me your goods!" he shouted, his voice dripping with a devilish glee as he reached into a nearby stall. His hand gripped an apple, and with a sickening crunch, he crushed it in his fist, letting the pieces fall to the ground.
The vendor, a thin, middle-aged man, trembled with fear. "No, please!" he cried out, his voice shaky and desperate. Before he could react further, the thief grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet. The vendor's legs dangled in the air for a moment before he was hurled to the dirt ground, landing with a painful thud. Dust rose around him, and he groaned in pain, clutching his side.
Two more bandits stood nearby, sneering at the frightened crowd that had gathered, forming a wide circle around them. The taller of the two bandits spread his arms wide, his voice booming with arrogance. "Ho! Who wants to fight? Who wants to protect this poor man?" His laughter was harsh and grating, echoing through the square as he taunted the onlookers.
Zina, standing on the edge of the crowd, craned her neck to get a better view. Her eyes narrowed in concern as she watched the scene unfold. "Isn't there a knight in this town?" she muttered under her breath, frustration evident in her voice.
"Negative," the system responded in its calm, monotone voice, echoing in Zina's mind. "There are no knights stationed in this town."
Zina tapped her foot impatiently, her eyes scanning the area for any sign of help. "How do you even know that?" she whispered, more to herself than to the system, as she continued to watch.
Before she could dwell on the thought, her attention was abruptly drawn back to the commotion. The main bandit, his face twisted in a cruel smile, had seized a small boy by the arm. The child couldn't have been more than five years old, his face pale with fear, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please, let me go!" the boy pleaded, his small voice quivering as he struggled in the bandit's grip, his feet kicking in the air.
The bandit laughed, a dark, guttural sound, as he held the boy up for everyone to see. "If no one fights me, the boy gets it!" he shouted, his voice dripping with menace. He drew a knife from his belt, the blade gleaming wickedly in the sunlight. The crowd gasped, some covering their mouths in horror, others looking away, unable to watch.
A man in the crowd, his face lined with worry and fear, stepped forward. He was the boy's father, his eyes filled with desperation. "Are you crazy?" he pleaded, his voice cracking as he fell to his knees, hands clasped in front of him. "Please, let go of the boy. He has done no harm!"
The bandit sneered, tightening his grip on the boy and brandishing the knife threateningly. "Shut up, old man," he growled, his eyes flashing with malice, his voice filled with the promise of violence.
A sudden, fierce cry pierced the tension of the moment. "Haaaa!" The sound came from a young woman, no more than eighteen years old, as she burst through the crowd, her eyes blazing with determination. The townspeople parted quickly, making way for the newcomer. In her hands, she held a sword, its blade gleaming sharply in the afternoon sun. With a swift movement, she took up a defensive stance, her legs spread wide on the dusty ground, her sword raised and ready.
"Let the boy down!" she commanded, her voice strong and unwavering, a stark contrast to the fear that gripped the rest of the crowd.
The main bandit, still holding the boy aloft with one hand, smirked. "Oh, look! A girl wants to play hero!" he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. The other two bandits joined in his laughter, the sound echoing cruelly through the square.
Ignoring their jeers, the young woman tightened her grip on her sword, her knuckles white. "I'm warning you," she said, her tone cold and serious, "I am a knight." Her eyes never left the bandits as she spoke, the weight of her words hanging in the air.
The main bandit chuckled, amused by her boldness. With a lazy flick of his finger, he signaled to his companions. "Get her, boys," he ordered, his voice a low growl.
The two bandits didn't hesitate. With a cry, they drew their swords, the metal hissing as it left the scabbards. "Hyaa!" they shouted, charging toward the girl with their weapons raised.
The girl's eyes narrowed, focusing on the threat before her. As the first bandit swung his sword, she parried expertly, their blades clashing with a resounding clang that reverberated through the square. The force of the blow sent a shiver up her arms, but she held firm, pushing back against the bandit's strength.
Before she could recover, the second bandit attacked, his sword coming at her from the other side. Twisting her body, she managed to deflect his blow as well, her sword moving in a blur of steel. The crowd gasped, eyes wide with shock and awe as they watched the young knight fend off both attackers with her single blade.
"Is that all you've got?" the girl taunted, her voice calm and collected despite the danger. She shoved their swords away, creating a brief moment of distance.
The bandits growled, anger flashing in their eyes. They came at her again, their movements faster and more aggressive. The girl met them head-on, her sword dancing in the air as she blocked and countered each attack. The sound of clashing metal filled the square, drowning out the noise of the market and the cries of the townspeople.
Dust kicked up around their feet as they moved, the young knight spinning and ducking, her movements precise and controlled. Her sword whirled through the air, a blur of motion as she parried and struck, driving the bandits back step by step. The sun overhead glinted off the blade, casting flashes of light across the scene. The crowd, initially frozen with fear, began to murmur in amazement, their eyes glued to the fierce battle unfolding before them.
With a powerful swing, the girl knocked one of the bandits' swords aside, leaving him open for a brief second. She moved in, her sword slicing through the air, but the second bandit was quick to block, his own blade meeting hers with a loud clash. They locked eyes, both pushing against each other, the strain evident on their faces. Sweat dripped down the girl's forehead, her breathing heavy, but she didn't back down.
The bandits were relentless, their attacks coming faster and harder. The girl's movements began to slow, her arms growing tired from the constant defense. Her breath came in quick gasps, the strain of the fight taking its toll. One of the bandits saw his chance, his eyes gleaming with malice. With a powerful strike, he knocked the girl's sword out of the way, sending her stumbling back.
Before she could regain her footing, the second bandit charged, his shoulder slamming into her with brutal force. The girl cried out, her body flying through the air before hitting the ground hard. Dust rose around her, her sword clattering out of reach. She lay there, stunned, her body aching from the impact.
The bandits laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed through the square. "Hahaha! Is that all you've got, missy?" one of them taunted, his sword raised as he advanced on her. "Hahaha!" echoed the other, their voices blending together in cruel amusement.
The crowd gasped again, the sound a mix of shock and fear. They watched, helpless, as the young knight lay on the ground, the bandits closing in on her. Desperation filled their eyes as they looked around, hoping for someone, anyone, to save her.