Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill Chapter 532:The World Is Simply A Horrible Place To Survive

Their forms appeared frail and gaunt, nearly skeletal, their skin devoid of life. Some lay motionless, others stirred weakly, utterly depleted of strength. A weak, flickering aura surrounded them, a clear sign that their inner vitality was gradually fading.

Nearby, adults knelt in profound sorrow, their countenances etched with utter despair.

"Why… why is this happening…" a demon woman sobbed, clutching her child’s hand, her voice trembling uncontrollably.

Another man pounded his fist against the earth, bellowing at the heavens, "God, why do you punish our children?"

His eyes blazed red, his voice a mixture of fury and utter helplessness.

"If you have grievances with us, then take us instead," he choked out, his voice cracking. "Leave the children be."

No divine answer came, the stark silence amplifying the agonizing scene.

Ethan stood motionless, a silent observer, incapable of easily dismissing the unfolding tragedy.

As he ventured further, the same heartbreaking tableau presented itself repeatedly. More children lay in similar states, surrounded by weeping families.

This was no isolated incident.

It was a calamity plaguing the entire city.

"So, it is true," Ethan whispered, recalling the information he had previously gathered.

The affliction targeting the young.

The one that sapped their potential and crippled their capacity to wield mana.

It claimed victims under thirty, and in its most brutal manifestations, left them utterly broken and beyond recovery.

Ethan’s gaze slowly traversed his surroundings, his mind processing the grim reality. The details perfectly aligned with the intelligence he had received. This was not mere rumor or a fabricated excuse; the suffering before him was undeniably real.

To concoct an elixir that could cure this malady, human hearts were required—the grim motivation behind their desperate actions.

Ethan’s hands subtly tightened into fists. Though his outward demeanor remained composed, his internal perspective had begun to shift.

This wasn't merely a conflict over territory or dominance.

It was fueled by sheer desperation.

After a brief pause, Ethan turned and moved onward. Though his presence remained concealed, his mindset had irrevocably changed.

"Tsk… I should not have come…"

Ethan muttered to himself, perched on a secluded rooftop, his eyes scanning the dimly lit streets below. The echoes of the earlier laments still resonated faintly in his ears. Despite the city’s nighttime quietude, the weight of his observations had not diminished.

If anything, the scene had impacted him more profoundly than any battlefield.

A surge of anger briefly coursed through his chest, but it quickly subsided, as blame felt elusive. Whom should he condemn? The demons, driven to attack out of desperation, or the humans, relentlessly pushing forward to seize their lands?

Yet, even this line of thought felt insufficient.

It wasn't as if the demon forces fought solely for their people's survival; many harbored personal ambitions, and some merely sought to indulge their bloodlust. This complexity muddied the waters, blurring the stark distinctions between right and wrong.

Ethan inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a fleeting moment.

"What a mess," he murmured softly.

The war was far from straightforward; the deeper he probed, the more convoluted it appeared.

"The world…"

"It is a truly dreadful place to merely exist."

Lingering a while longer, he departed the city discreetly via the same hidden path, returning to the camp unnoticed.

Two days elapsed.

The army remained encamped near the river, an atmosphere of escalating tension pervading as they awaited the next move.

Then, General Aaron finally made his appearance.

Reinforcements accompanied him, their sheer numbers sufficient to alter the camp’s entire ambiance. Close to three hundred thousand elite soldiers marched in formation, accompanied by squadrons of knights and heavily armored infantry, all exuding an aura of formidable discipline.

The camp buzzed with renewed activity as preparations recommenced with full vigor.

Shortly thereafter, a meeting was convened.

Within the command tent, Ethan, Han, and Hale stood among the assembled officers. Aaron paced back and forth, his expression serene yet grave.

"You three performed admirably," Aaron stated, halting before them.

His gaze briefly swept over them before he continued, "That Lucien… fortunately, I managed to extract him in the nick of time; otherwise, the consequences would have been dire."

Han and Hale exchanged a fleeting glance, remaining silent.

Aaron offered a slight nod, adding, "Your actions have stabilized the front lines, and commendations will be duly recorded. Rewards will follow."

His voice was firm, his declaration leaving no room for doubt.

Yet, as the words left his lips, his gaze faltered slightly, settling upon Ethan.

Ethan remained standing, his attention seemingly miles away.

"Marquise Ethan," Aaron's voice broke the silence.

Ethan's eyes fluttered open as he looked up.

"Do you have anything you wish to express?" Aaron inquired, his tone unhurried. "There is no need for apprehension. Speak your mind freely."

Ethan parted his lips for a fleeting instant.

He had something he wanted to convey.

Vivid scenes from the city replayed in his memory, compelling the words towards his tongue, but ultimately, he hesitated, his lips sealing shut once more.

"...No," he finally uttered after a short pause.

"It is simply that this is my first time being away for such an extended period," he elaborated, his voice maintaining its even keel. "Thus, I find myself longing for home."

Aaron regarded him for a second before erupting into laughter.

"Haha... you are not the sole individual experiencing such sentiments," he responded, making a dismissive gesture. "Even I yearn for my kin."

Han drew a slow breath, leaning back slightly.

"I find myself pondering what my children are occupied with at this very moment," he mused, a subtle warmth infusing his words.

Hale responded with a chuckle, a shake of his head accompanying it.

"I possess no family ties," he declared with a playful grin.

"My only recourse for urges is the brothel."

A few subdued chuckles rippled through the tent, and for that brief interval, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to dissipate.

Ethan offered a subtle smile in return, though it failed to reach the depths of his eyes.

The discussion soon veered back towards military strategies, and the transient moment faded.

However, a persistent disquiet continued to churn within Ethan's thoughts.