A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

“Every little detail can lead to countless future branches.”

"Someone may be able to see one branch of the future, but who can be sure that this branch is the definite future?"

No one can guarantee anything.

"The future we see is nothing more than what we think is the future."

"If something can be changed after it's seen, what kind of future is it?"

The fortune teller said a lot, and Bray nodded as if he understood but not quite.

"I'm sorry, I've rambled on for so long," the fortune teller said with a smile.

"No, that makes a lot of sense."

"What I can do is merely to see the minutiae of the countless branches of the future."

"Divination is more about reviewing and concluding the past, and then predicting the future direction of the branch."

After saying that, the fortune teller placed her hand on the scattered pile of cards.

"Don't you need any magic circles or anything?" In Bray's memory, it seemed that many people used magic to assist in divination.

"No need for the magic array, hehehe." The fortune teller laughed heartily.

"But is it really accurate?" Bray asked doubtfully.

The fortune teller was not annoyed by Bray's questioning.

"If you believe, then believe; if you don't believe, then you don't have to force yourself to believe."

“Relax, young man,” the fortune teller said, turning over a card.

"What an unlucky card, young man," the fortune teller said, slightly startled.

Then they continued to turn over other cards.

As more and more cards were turned over, the fortune teller's expression grew increasingly solemn.

After 11 cards were turned over, all the wooden carvings on the table cracked.

The wood carving contains sparkling gemstones.

"Oh dear, all 11 'True Sight Stones' are broken." A bead of sweat inadvertently rolled down the fortune teller's forehead.

"True Sight Stone" is a gemstone that exudes a faint aura of destiny; it is a very rare stone.

These 11 wood carvings are undeniably precious.

It's all destroyed now.

"Did you see something bad?" Bray frowned.

"..." The fortune teller looked at Bray and remained silent.

The old lady's silence struck Bray as odd.

"May I see your left eye?" the fortune teller said.

Bray hesitated for a moment, then removed the eye patch from his left eye.

It was empty, devoid of anything.

The empty eye sockets exuded a chilling darkness.

"This is no ordinary disability," the fortune teller sighed.

"A person cursed by a demon."

When the fortune teller said those words, Bray's expression changed involuntarily.

"You know the devil."

"Of course, demons, angels, sea creatures, and above them, wild gods and true gods," the fortune teller said quietly.

"I've been through a lot, after all."

"Forbidden knowledge is something that can easily lead to regret," the fortune teller said, her words filled with regret, as if recalling something.

"Would you like to know the result of the divination?" the fortune teller asked.

"Does the divination result... include the past and the future?" Bray asked.

"Yes, there are summaries of the past and branches to the future." The fortune teller nodded.

"Then just tell me the summary." Bray closed his eyes and put the eye patch back on.

"Don't you want to know what the future holds? Fine then." The fortune teller shook her head.

"Survivor who escaped the curse of the demon, the first weakling to kill a god—" When she said this, you could clearly feel the tremor in the fortune teller's voice.

This is enough to prove how weighty these words are.

"You are the embodiment of the 'pioneer.'"

"The path you walk is the path that is opened up."

The fortune teller's hands trembled as she stroked the turned-up cards.

Those signs are engraved with words and meanings.

Then the fortune teller stopped and didn't continue.

“That’s quite an exaggeration,” Bray said.

"Yes, it's so exaggerated that I can hardly believe it."

“But that’s the truth, isn’t it, young man?” the fortune teller said.

The one who broke the ironclad rule that lower species cannot defeat higher species is also someone who is unimaginably weak.

Even the word "miracle" cannot describe it.

This requires a lot of luck, and also—courage.

"I won't talk about your future."

"However, you have reminded me of some things that have been forgotten by the world for countless years," the fortune teller sighed.

"Forgotten things?" Bray asked, puzzled.

“Yes, if, and I mean if, you were to visit the orc kingdom,” the fortune teller said.

“The orcs’ country is quite far from the Will Empire,” Bray sighed.

“Yes, so I won’t force it.” The fortune teller put away all the cards.

"You can leave now, young man."

“Thank you for the reading,” Bray said, bowing in thanks.

The fortune teller waved her hand casually.

"Levy, wake up, let's go, we need to find a place to stay tonight." Bray woke up the dozing Levy.

"Young man, your name."

"Brekras".

"I now have another secret that I cannot tell anyone," the fortune teller murmured.

---

"Is the shackle that the weak cannot resist the strong finally beginning to crumble?"

"The will of the world, where will everything lead?"

"It seems my leisurely life is coming to an end."

After Bray left, the fortune teller locked herself in her room and began to mutter to herself. The central city was quite large, and this most prosperous area was much larger than the outer and inner cities.

Within the vast Midtown area, there are numerous churches.

The churches belong to different churches, with the church of the "Sons of Light" being the most magnificent.

Compared to those churches, the churches owned by other religions with fewer followers are much more shabby.

Among these humble churches are those who worship the "Old Man of the Lamp".

This small chapel is about the size of three bungalows. Inside, there is only a statue of an old man with his face covered by a hood.

The statue is indeed the "Old Man with the Lamp".

There was only one priest in the chapel; there were no other pastors or nuns.

Even so, the priest still managed the church very well.

Surprisingly, there were quite a few ordinary people in the chapel, all of whom seemed to be there to see the priest.

Strangely, almost none of these commoners believed in the "Old Man of the Lamp".

They all came to this church for one purpose only: to receive treatment.

“Father Thun, I recently got a scratch on my back, and it's starting to fester,” a construction worker complained to Father Thun.

“Oh, I see. Turn around and pull your clothes up,” Father Thun said with a sigh.

"Okay, okay." The construction worker did as instructed.

After examining the wound briefly, Father Thun placed his hand not far from it.

"Oh! It's a little itchy," the construction worker said.

“Yes, the wound has closed up and will heal completely on its own in a few days,” Father Thun added.

"That's really impressive, Father. Other churches have to recite very long incantations."

“There’s no comparison. Theirs is divine magic, while mine is just ordinary healing magic,” Father Thun chuckled.

"Doesn't the priest use divine magic?"

"It's a bit of a pity, I can't do it." Thun waved his hand.

"Alright, is anyone else in need of treatment?" Father Thun asked the people behind the construction workers.

"Yes, yes, yes!" a child exclaimed, jumping up.

"My mother needs treatment."

“Come here then.” Father Thun beckoned to the child.

“Sir, just be careful not to worsen the wound,” Father Thun said, turning to the construction worker.

"Okay okay."

"Oh, Father, here's some money for you." The construction worker took out a 5G and handed it to the priest.

The priest did not refuse, but accepted it.

"I really thought you wouldn't accept it, Father."

“How could that be? This church doesn’t receive any subsidies from the Empire. Without income, it can’t survive.” Father Thun gave a wry smile.

Besides repairing the church, Father Thun also needs to occasionally give food to several homeless children in the neighborhood.

Even so, Father, you still receive far less than other churches.

“I’m just accepting what I’m entitled to,” Father Thun said casually.

"Alright, child, where is your mother?" The priest patted the little head of the child who had just been shouting.

“It’s behind!” the child said.

---

As evening approached, Father Thun uttered a weary voice and glanced at the setting sun.

"Come out, it's time to eat," Father Thun called out.

Several dirty children darted out from the alley behind the church.

"Half a loaf for each person, don't fight over it." Father Thun squatted down and distributed the bread he had prepared earlier.

Every city has its prosperous side, and every city has its dark side.

Father Thun had no power to change any of this.

All he could do was contribute his meager strength to help a few children.