Farmer or Cultivator Chapter 20: Heavy heart

Chapter 20: Heavy heart

[Ti has been elapsed]

[You have failed]

Those that he hoped to save had died, he caught a glimpse of a child raising their hand to their mother’s face when it abruptly fell as the last inkling of life left their body. Wails grew louder, the people wearing terrible faces of grimace.

Bandits, rogue soldiers of Combec had been daring in the past, the village had been plundered, bullied and pushed about, but nothing this horrific had ever been carried out, nothing that caused the deaths of children.

Eldrad sprawled on the ground, feeling the still warm body of one of those that had just died. He spent about a minute feeling the child’s face, and then imdiately stood up, "Move their bodies, they get buried before sunset." He said coldly, like he had abandoned every lick of emotion briefly. He turned, and quickly left the scene.

Fists clenched by his sides, Ren wanted to punch sothing, he had not known these children but knowing that he was so close to potentially saving them to utterly failing stirred rage and great frustration within him.

[You have failed]

The ssage hung in front of him in bright blue, none aside from him could see it, and next ca the repercussions.

[For failing to save the dying children, you have lost 7 charisma points.]

[The goddess of compassion sympathizes with you.]

[The god of justice and fairness hopes you bring the culprits to justice.]

So n from the crowd proceeded to claim the bodies, and as if certain that their children still lived, so mothers wrestled against the n to keep their purple bloated children in their arms.

Eldrad had told him that the Tunish was not as peaceful as it may seem, and Ren called it a bluff, it had been but a laid back village, but now, this cruel reality had set him straight. There were cruel people in this world too, and they might even be bolder.

That morning, Ren continued his practice, flaring mana through his mana vessels, streaming them and maintaining the field of energy around his body as he improved his physical capabilities. He was just as vulnerable as the villagers, perhaps even more so as his knowledge of his location was lacking.

He had his own well, he had given so water to the animals, and nothing had occurred. His well had not been poisoned.

"Mine could be next." Luckily his had a lock but he had long since abandoned actually locking it, he would have to rummage through his room to find it, but the thought alone was reassuring.

"I wonder where the village would get water for the ti being."

Ren recalled that Erigald’s winehouse had its own personal well, and he was almost certain that he had heard that a river was nearby.

He frowned, angry at himself, "I have been willfully ignorant, convincing myself that I would learn more after I have co to understand my surroundings. Arggh!" He scread.

He bent forward with frustration in his face. The deaths were eating into him, then he heard a clear confident voice. He turned, wondering who it was.

"There’s going to be a eting after the funeral, you should co." Tuarine said. She had been in the scene, she had seen how the poison slowly ate away the lives of the children, and she looked unshaken as ever, could nothing shake this woman?

Ren simply stood watching her for a good minute before she snapped back his attention with a clap.

"Yes, yes I will be there."

"You are one of us already, it is important that you are present."

Ren nodded, affirming that he’ll be present.

"A bell will be rung to alert the beginning of the funeral." She said and imdiately turned away.

Just as Tuarine had said, a bell rang, its sound heavy with sadness. Ren donned a black shirt and trousers, the shirt was his most worn shirt so bore that aged look, and his black trousers of cotton had considerably faded, the last thing he wanted to seem at such an event was to be ostentatious.

Black was the customary color of choice back in his nation, and he reckoned that it was the sa here, the color seed to be universal in that it held the feeling of hollowness that ca from losing sothing, it was a safe bet.

He hurried down below, spotting a procession of people that don black dresses, both n and won. There were about a dozen of them, and the one that led—the one at the front struck the bell as they strode in rhythm.

All of Tunish were out, and they slowly followed the trail of the procession. They unlike Ren retained the clothes that they had worn earlier in the day, also unlike Ren, most did not have more than two pairs of clothes.

Ren joined the crowd, and the procession led them to the funeral. A piece of land behind the last of the hos in the village was where they were buried, it was where all that died in the village were buried.

Already there was Eldrad, and a man Ren did not recall ever seeing, wearing a black dress, and a flat white cap. They stood a distance away from the nurous wooden grave markers fixed in the burial ground.

Their host, a worshipper of the goddess of death, brought out a black to, and read its contents, saying things like how death was the great equalizer, and how they would all be reunited in the great beyond, words clearly ant to pacify the grieving.

Ren had not believed in the existence of taphysical beings; gods, demons, and strange spirits that the masses believed in were myths manufactured to ease the fears of people, they were like conjured to make things easier, this was Ren’s stern belief, but that had been challenged since his transmigration, gods sent ssages to him frequently and he had t an angel, so where he was inclined to think the priest’s words as nothing but bullshit, he paused.

’There must be so truth to it.’

He had not gained the attention of the goddess of death, but he had long been certain that she existed.