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Jason’s pupils trembled uncontrollably.
The walls of the fortress had collapsed, leaving no trace standing; the ground was grotesquely gouged out everywhere as if artillery shells had rained down upon it. And as for the orchard itself… scraps of torn leather and cloth with bloodstains that had long dried into a pitch-black crust were scattered throughout.
“Ah….”
It had only been a week! The village had endured through the war for years! There should have been no way everyone could have died in such a short time!
Surely, definitely, everyone had simply abandoned the village and evacuated because of unavoidable circumstances—at least… that was what Jason wanted to believe.
Alas, the brilliant talent he had been given did not permit him to look away from reality.
“A-ah….”
Everyone was dead. All slaughtered cruelly by the fangs, claws, and tails of beasts. They were unable to put up any meaningful resistance.
Jason knew all that, from the traces of their struggle to survive left throughout the orchard. Just seeing them had made him reconstruct the massacre that had taken place only days ago.
Yet Jason neither screamed in rage nor wailed in grief.
“Why…”
Instead, his mind only let him turn the possibilities over and over, searching for the culprit behind the tragedy.
How had the village been destroyed? Was it a...
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