Happy Life
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Hearing the familiar reprimand, Mira broke free from the stupor she had been in for the past few hours.
- Comrades! You are making a terrible mistake! At best, your intentions will only increase the suffering on this land! The local people are downtrodden and oppressed, but in the face of cruelty, they will unite and fight to the last. It doesn't matter if they are creatures of the Abyss or just lesser beings that you still allow to exist – fear doesn't distinguish such subtleties; all the local peoples will turn their spears, scythes, clubs, and torches against you!
And what's more – are you willing to bet that, once you taste blood, you won't succumb to the temptation whispered by the perverse otherworldly forces that influence all people? That you won't start inventing excuses for increasingly outrageous acts of cruelty and murder? Many greater and more virtuous saints than you, who have entered our history – open any book! – and who revered the Psalms to the letter, were corrupted by their imperfect human nature! Justice is paramount; everyone will be rewarded according to their deeds and crimes – yes! But nowhere in the sacred teachings is remote cruelty encouraged! Many of you – of us – will perish. These lands will be burned to the ground and devastated. The weak – women, children – will not escape this fate. They always suffer in such moments; there is no cure or prayer for this. You will condemn not only their souls to death, but also your own, and those of everyone you are trying to protect!
Believe me, there are those you can protect Arwen and its surroundings from! There are places to direct your righteous power! Foreign bandit marauders roam these lands, committing unspeakable atrocities against the innocent population! Even in the local forest, there are creatures that prey on the locals. Today... my comrade, a fellow countryman, was killed by these cursed, vile creatures that are an abomination to all our gods. His name was Milo. I didn't know him well, but at a glance, it was clear that he was just as simple and God-fearing a man as each of us... All... all that is left of him... is a handkerchief. Given to him by his mother... or sister... That's all we could put on his grave.
I beg you, I demand, I implore – come to your senses! Do not cover up acts of baseness with piety! Do not shed Refetian blood, or anyone else's! You will not be forgiven! No one will be forgiven! Leave here in peace! - Having spent all her remaining energy on this, the girl, exhausted, collapsed to her knees.
- Comrades! You are making a terrible mistake! At best, your intentions will only increase the suffering on this land! The local people are downtrodden and oppressed, but in the face of cruelty, they will unite and fight to the last. It doesn't matter if they are creatures of the Abyss or just lesser beings that you still allow to exist – fear doesn't distinguish such subtleties; all the local peoples will turn their spears, scythes, clubs, and torches against you!
And what's more – are you willing to bet that, once you taste blood, you won't succumb to the temptation whispered by the perverse otherworldly forces that influence all people? That you won't start inventing excuses for increasingly outrageous acts of cruelty and murder? Many greater and more virtuous saints than you, who have entered our history – open any book! – and who revered the Psalms to the letter, were corrupted by their imperfect human nature! Justice is paramount; everyone will be rewarded according to their deeds and crimes – yes! But nowhere in the sacred teachings is remote cruelty encouraged! Many of you – of us – will perish. These lands will be burned to the ground and devastated. The weak – women, children – will not escape this fate. They always suffer in such moments; there is no cure or prayer for this. You will condemn not only their souls to death, but also your own, and those of everyone you are trying to protect!
Believe me, there are those you can protect Arwen and its surroundings from! There are places to direct your righteous power! Foreign bandit marauders roam these lands, committing unspeakable atrocities against the innocent population! Even in the local forest, there are creatures that prey on the locals. Today... my comrade, a fellow countryman, was killed by these cursed, vile creatures that are an abomination to all our gods. His name was Milo. I didn't know him well, but at a glance, it was clear that he was just as simple and God-fearing a man as each of us... All... all that is left of him... is a handkerchief. Given to him by his mother... or sister... That's all we could put on his grave.
I beg you, I demand, I implore – come to your senses! Do not cover up acts of baseness with piety! Do not shed Refetian blood, or anyone else's! You will not be forgiven! No one will be forgiven! Leave here in peace! - Having spent all her remaining energy on this, the girl, exhausted, collapsed to her knees.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
