Chapter 652: Chapter 652

【 IDEALS AND REALITY 】

Several crows circled above the ditch, their hoarse cries echoing across the barren landscape.

Standing by the roadside, Sophia felt an icy chill seep into her very bones.

At the bottom of the ditch lay heaps of tiny, lifeless bodies. Some had long since decomposed into bare, brittle bones, while others still bore traces of flesh, as though they had been cast aside only days ago.

There were at least a hundred of them.

The stench that rose from the pit was overwhelming. The thick, rancid air filled her lungs and clawed at her throat, until nausea overtook her. The noble girl stumbled back, clutching her chest, and retched helplessly by the roadside.

Only when her body had emptied itself of all strength and bile did she manage to catch her breath. Her knees trembled, and her hands were cold as ice. Though her breathing gradually steadied, Sophia’s face remained ashen, with a hollow expression.

“I told you not to look,” Demacia sighed as he dismounted and walked over.

“Burn them, then cast a purification spell. Even the remains of these infants can turn into undead if left .”

The mages exchanged brief nods before signaling for Dōngdōng, the group’s priest, to begin the purification rites.

As they gathered near the ditch, faint blue magic circles shimmered in the air, and the first embers of fire began to flicker to life. The scent of decay slowly gave way to the sharper, almost rancid aroma of burning flesh.

At the side, Sophia watched them wordlessly. The movement of the elves blurred before her eyes as her vision dimmed at the edges. Her mind struggled to comprehend what she was seeing, yet her body refused to look away.

“Why… why is this happening? Both Imperial law and the Eternal Church’s doctrines forbid the abandonment of infants… So why are there so many dead babies thrown here?”

Sophia’s voice trembled as she spoke, filled with disbelief.

Her eyes darted between the lifeless ditch and Demacia, as though searching for an answer that would make any of it make sense.

Demacia said nothing for a moment. His jaw tightened, and he looked away before exhaling a long, weary sigh.

“Because their parents couldn’t afford to raise any of them. If they’re born but can’t afford to feed them, the parents usually suffocate their babies before throwing them away.”

Sophia’s eyes widened in horror.

“They can’t afford it? So they just throw them away? Suffocate those poor helpless babies? How could they be so heartless?!”

Her voice rose, trembling between anger and sorrow.

“And what else could they do?” Demacia replied with a bitter laugh. “The poor have nothing. In most human cities, unwanted births happen every few days. What do you expect the commoners to do if they can’t even feed themselves?”

“They could give them to the Church!” Sophia snapped, desperation creeping into her tone. “The Eternal Church has orphanages! They would surely take them in!”

Demacia slowly shook his head.

“Miss Sophia, you’re still too young… Do you know how many abandoned infants appear in a single town each year? And how many can the Church actually take in? Besides…” His gaze met hers, somber and unflinching.

“Where is the Eternal Church now?”

The weight of his words hit her like a stone.

Only then did she remember—the Eternal Church in Riverbend Town had long since evacuated, following the nobles who fled before the conflict even reached them.

“Furthermore,” Demacia went on, “this is already a fortunate situation. It means the poor common folk can still find some means of food to sustain themselves. If things get any worse, you won’t even see corpses like these.”

Sophia blinked, unable to understand. Her brows knitted together.

“…Why?” she asked hesitantly. Googlᴇ search novel⸺fire.net

Demacia fell silent. His gaze drifted toward the ditch again, his expression darkening.

“…Because if they truly can’t find any decent food, then they wouldn’t throw away anything edible.”

Sophia’s face turned as pale as paper. Her lips trembled as the meaning of his words began to sink in.

Demacia closed his eyes.

“Yes,” he said grimly. “When things turn for the worse, the desperate poor might even resort to cannibalism.”

At that, the color drained from Sophia’s face completely.

“That… that’s impossible! Such inhumane acts can’t possibly happen within the Empire!” she exclaimed, her head spinning from the shock.

“Why not?” Demacia replied coldly. “When the civil war in Maple Leaf Territory drags on, tell me, Miss Sophia, do you still believe what I said could never happen?”

The fire began to die out within the ditch as the chants of the elven priest rose faintly in the wind. Watching the smoke rising into the darkening sky, Sophia’s eyes grew distant. The acrid scent of burning flesh and decay still lingered in the air, mixing with the cold evening breeze that swept across the desolate road.

“So this… this is the true state of the commoners living within the Empire…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

There was a faint plea hidden in her tone, a fragile hope that Demacia would deny her words and tell her she was mistaken. That this was merely an exception, not the rule. But his response shattered that illusion completely.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “This is the reality for those commoners who live beyond the walled, affluent districts where the nobles reside. For the poor, simply surviving is already a blessing.”

“H-How about magic? The nobles have so many loyal mages under their command! Why won’t any of them help? Just one spell from an earth mage could double the crop yield!” Sophia protested, her voice rising again with indignation.

But Demacia only gave her a pointed stare.

“Miss Sophia, perhaps you should ask yourself that question. You are a noble as well. Have any of the mages sworn to your family ever done such a thing?”

At his almost accusatory tone, her anger immediately faltered, extinguished as though doused by a bucket of ice-cold water.

She tried opening her mouth, but the words simply refused to come out.

Use magic to improve the lives of the poor?

She knew that no noble would ever order their mage to do such a thing.

For the nobility, magic represented knowledge, privilege, and authority. It was a tool to reinforce their position, to keep their lineage elevated above the masses. And for mages, it was even more sacred. They regard magic as something to be exalted, far above mundane concerns, and thus disdain using it for such trivial matters.

Even if Sophia herself wished to employ magic to better the lives of the people, she knew the idea would be met with ridicule or outright rejection, as this issue stems from a deeply rooted ideology and the nobles’ position.

“What about the Church?” Sophia pressed. “The common people are the Church’s greatest source of faith, is it not? Wouldn’t the Eternal Church care about the poor’s suffering? Wouldn’t they use divine magic to improve their lives?”

“…The Church?” Demacia replied with a faint, mocking smile. “And why should the Church improve the lives of the poor? Do you think divine power simply appear out of thin air?”

He shook his head, paused for a moment, and continued,

“Miss Sophia, perhaps you do not fully understand how the Church operates. As someone who has had firsthand experience with how faith is managed, allow me to tell you a harsh truth.”

“For the Eternal Church, performing a few miracles from time to time, or using minor divine spells to heal a handful of believers, yields far greater returns in faith than spending vast resources to truly improve the lives of the masses.”

He gave a quiet, humorless laugh.

“You know why? Because it is the desperate who cling the most tightly to faith. Those who live in suffering, who have nothing left to hold on to, are the ones who pray the hardest. They are the believers who eventually become the most devoted.”

His voice grew colder with each word.

“To the Eternal Church—or any religion, for that matter—gathering faith is the ultimate purpose. Saving people? What does that even mean? Do you truly believe that the Eternal Lord is a benevolent god who cares for all living beings?”

The sarcasm in Demacia’s tone cut sharper than any blade.

Hearing this, Sophia swayed on her feet and stood motionless, frozen in place.

The two of them stood there in silence for a long moment, surrounded only by the faint crackle of the dying fire in the ditch and the whisper of the evening wind. The once faint chanting of the elven priests had faded into quiet murmurs, leaving an oppressive stillness that neither dared to break.

Demacia finally tore his gaze away from the grim scene and looked toward the darkening sky.

“Let’s go, Miss Sophia. If we hurry, you’ll reach Morningstar City in time for the noble banquet tonight.”

With that, he mounted his horse, the reins tightening in his gloved hands, and rode ahead without another word.

Sophia pressed her lips together. Her hands clenched tightly, then loosened again in defeat. With the help of the elves, she mounted her horse and followed after Demacia in silence.

As the group left Riverbend Town, their journey continued on. Yet compared to their earlier liveliness, the team had grown much quieter.

> “I know Elven Kingdom is supposed to feel realistic,” typed Meng Zhihan in the group chat, “but I didn’t expect it to be this brutally real. It’s like a dark fantasy version of the Middle Ages… this quest scenario is so heartbreaking.”

> Demacia: “Maybe it’s even darker than real life. Back on Earth, commoners who are pushed this far can still revolt. I mean, western history is full of peasants overthrowing their monarchs, right? But in this game… ordinary people without extraordinary power are nothing more than cannon fodders.”

> Dōngdōng: “Seriously, why make it this realistic? Now I just feel depressed… QAQ”

> “Maybe that’s exactly why we’re here,” another player replied. “No game would include something without purpose, isn’t it? If the devs is showing us such a dark scenario, then maybe it’s up to us players to bring change. After all, one of the main storylines of the game is to help the Goddess spread her faith. Maybe this is the contrast—we’re supposed to be the light in this kind of world.”

While the players continued chatting privately in their group chat, the noble girl riding among them said nothing at all.

Her expression was blank, her eyes dull and unfocused, as though the weight of what she had witnessed had crushed something deep within her heart.

As their group pressed onward, Sophia’s silence deepened.

The road stretched endlessly before them, winding through desolate fields and ruined farmlands. By now, her once bright and curious demeanor from the start had vanished completely.

Moreover, it was not just Riverbend Town that had been stricken by misery either. Every village and settlement they passed bore the same signs of decay—collapsed homes, withered crops, hollow-eyed peasants who watched them pass with lifeless wary stares.

The vast gulf between her ideals and the cruel reality she now faced shook the very core of her beliefs. Everything she had been taught about the Empire now felt like a beautiful lie told to comfort those who never saw beyond their castles.

At that moment, Sophia finally understood how hollow those books describing the Empire’s “greatness” truly were, and how revolting those texts praising the achievements of the nobles now seemed.

Why was this happening?

Why was the gap between nobles and commoners so immense?

Why did the nobles in their castles never speak of the plight of the common folks?

What was noble honor supposed to mean? What was noble duty worth, if not even a trace of compassion reached the hearts of those who ruled? And why, above all, did the Eternal Church—an institution that preached virtue and kindness—turn a blind eye to the suffering of its believers?

Was it truly as Demacia had said, that faith thrived best among the desperate, that the poor and hopeless were little more than tools for the Gods to accumulate divine power?

If that was true, then what meaning did the Church’s teachings hold?

What meaning did the promise of divine salvation have, if it was built upon the despair of those it was meant to save?

All these questions swirled through Sophia’s mind, leaving her thoughts in turmoil. Each answer she tried to find only led to more doubt.

Without her even realizing it, the sun sank toward the horizon as the air grew colder. By the time the crimson glow of dusk filled the sky, the group finally came to a halt.

“Miss Sophia,” said Demacia, “Morningstar City lies just ahead. According to our information, Duke Lawson is currently within that city.”

His words pulled Sophia out of her daze. Her body trembled slightly as she lifted her gaze.

Ahead of them was a vast and imposing city.

It was no smaller than Maple Leaf City, its walls towering more than twenty meters high. Beneath those walls stretched countless rows of tents belonging to imperial soldiers and conscripted mercenaries.

There was no doubt that where the army was gathered, its commander would be as well.

The Duke of Lawson—one of the Seven Electors of the Holy Maniya Empire—was surely there somewhere in the city.

“Miss Sophia, this is as far as we can take you. Beyond this point…” Demacia paused, clearing his throat, “is outside our operating area—cough, I mean, it’s no longer suitable for us to proceed.”

As the player most familiar with the humans and the leader of the escort team, Demacia spoke with deliberate restraint.

To his surprise, the young noble girl who had always been quick to mock him did not offer any sarcastic remark this time. She merely nodded in silence.

Her uncharacteristic behavior caught Demacia off guard, leaving him momentarily unsure how to respond.

“Thank you… thank you all for escorting me this far,” Sophia said quietly. “Once I reclaim my rightful position, I will surely fulfill my promise.”

Clenching her fists, she added firmly, “I will change this situation—no matter what it takes.”

Hearing her muttered words, Demacia opened his mouth as if to say something, but the memory of their Guildmaster, Li Mu earlier warnings made him swallow the thought.

After a brief sigh, he said, “Then I wish you success, Miss Sophia. If you find yourself in danger, be sure to take out the statue of the Goddess and pray for aid. The power of us elves will help you escape.”

Sophia hesitated, then replied softly, “Thank you… if it truly comes to that, I will.”

For once, she did not argue.

Turning to glance at the setting sun in the west, Sophia dismounted. She handed her horse’s reins to one of the escorts, then began walking toward Morningstar City all by herself.

Demacia watched her figure fade into the distance and slowly shook his head.

“Still as stubborn as ever…” he murmured.

Perhaps because there were so many mercenaries coming and going, Sophia—disguised as one herself—entered the city without interference from the guards.

As one of the major cities of the western provinces, Morningstar City was far more prosperous than Riverbend Town. Even under the looming threat of civil war, it remained bustling with activity. The influx of imperial soldiers and mercenaries, however, added a layer of noise and disorder to its liveliness.

The buildings lining the streets were much finer than those in Riverbend, which lifted Sophia’s mood slightly. At least here, the residents seemed to live far better than the impoverished common folks she had seen along the way.

Still, because of the martial law, most homes were tightly shut, and only a few townspeople walked the streets among the soldiers and mercenaries.

Sophia stopped a passerby to ask for directions to the governor’s residence, then made her way toward the noble district at the city’s center.

The closer she drew to the noble quarter, the cleaner and grander the buildings became. When she finally passed beyond the commoners’ area, her surroundings transformed into elegant manors and majestic inner-city castles—scenes she knew all too well.

Yet, as she gazed at those splendid facades and listened to the faint music and laughter drifting from within these mansions, she felt no joy at all. Instead, her expression grew increasingly somber.

Just as she was about to step into the noble district, two heavily armed guards blocked her path.

“Stop! This area is for nobles only. Mercenaries are forbidden to enter!” one barked sternly.

Sophia met their gaze coldly and dispelled her disguise spell.

Before the guards’ astonished eyes, her half-elven features reappeared.

“Stand aside,” she said icily. “I am Sophia von Wells, heir to Wells House and Lord of Zelouan. I seek an audience with Duke Lawson.”

As she spoke, she released a faint surge of magical energy, before producing a gleaming badge engraved with a lion’s crest that shimmered with radiant light.

“A third-tier mage… and an imperial noble’s insignia!” one guard exclaimed in shock.

“Please wait a moment, my lady,” the other said hastily after exchanging a quick glance with his companion. “We will inform our superiors of your arrival.”