Gauss could indeed feel that the entire Grayrock Town was shrouded in an indescribable atmosphere.
But as for what it was, he couldn't quite say.
Sadness? Not really.
Oppression?
There was some, but not much.
Perhaps it was more an unease born from witnessing the wheels of history rumbling forward, the end of an era approaching, and the uncertainty of the unknown.
Speaking of which, he also had a few scattered memories concerning Sword Saint Roland.
As far as he remembered, Roland had been the core of the elite squad that slew the Demon King—a legendary Sword Saint, humanity's strongest Hero, and a great hero who had forged a century of peace.
But to the original Gauss, and to the vast majority of ordinary people, Sword Saint Roland was more like someone who could only appear in storybooks, a name living in a distant legend.
More than a century had passed since the era when Roland had truly dominated the continent.
Back then, let alone Gauss—even his original body's grandfather, or even great-grandfather, probably hadn't been born yet.
It was perfectly normal not to know much about such a distant era.
"People will always die, even if they were once humanity's strongest." Gauss came to a sudden realization.
Humans were born with short lifespans. In this era, ordinary humans who aged naturally rarely lived past a hundred, while races like Elves and Dwarves generally lived for several hundred years.
Not to mention dragons and other long-lived magical beasts. The strongest among them might have existed longer than the kingdom itself.
Even human powerhouses who reached the legendary realm lived only two to three hundred years if they didn't use other methods to extend their lives. The difference was still considerable.
Their only advantage was that, with their enormous population, humans