"Your daughter is dead."
After giving it some thought, Werther decided to tell her the truth. A well-intentioned lie was not always a kindness.
Werther could easily imagine the old woman spending years, perhaps even more than a decade, searching for her daughter.
That might be harder to bear than death. Better to tell her now. Even despair was preferable to years of torment.
"No. That's impossible. How could my daughter be dead?"
The old woman stumbled back two steps, disbelief written across her face.
"Yes. She's dead. I saw her body. My companions have buried her. Do you want to go and see?"
The old woman shuddered and looked at Werther with pleading eyes.
Werther could tell she wanted him to say he was lying.
But he would not do something so pointless. The world was cruel. It could be full of love at times, but on this Island, it had shown its cruel side.
"Go straight to the east side of town. Once you reach the wasteland, you'll see a lot of ice sculptures. Search nearby, and you should find her grave."
Werther turned to leave, but felt someone grab the back of his coat.
"Was she... was she in pain when she died?"
Ever since learning that her daughter had gone near the Blood Sacrifice Pool, the old woman had been sick with worry. This Bad News had nearly broken her.
"In my experience, she wouldn't have suffered long. I've killed thousands of people with the sword in my hand, so you can trust me on that. With her constitution, she couldn't have survived those wounds for long."
The old woman slowly released his coat. The light in her eyes faded.
Werther did not look at her face, but after a moment's thought, he recalled that Jie