The streets of the Goa Royal Capital bustled with voices. Everyone seemed incredibly busy, but their eyes were no longer stagnant pools as they had once been. Instead, they shone with bright anticipation.
Dragon walked silently down the street, taking in the thriving vendors and the people murmuring to one another about their hopes for the future.
He had visited the Goa Royal Capital before. Back then, its rigid class divisions had been palpable, and ordinary people had been nowhere near as lively as they were now. Most faces had been clouded with worry, their owners constantly working themselves to the bone to avoid bankruptcy and being forcibly driven out to the Trash Heap.
Beneath its glamorous surface, the city had been unbearably oppressive, nothing like the ease and freedom it offered now.
Watching the tired yet smiling faces passing him, Dragon could not help marveling inwardly. Was this really a religious organization? I had never seen them deliberately promote their god, yet passersby spontaneously praised the Holy Light in their conversations.
But when Dragon looked at the Holy Light Clerics approaching him, he finally understood where the people's faith came from.
Despite their imposing armor, the people they encountered showed neither fear nor awkwardness. Acquaintances greeted the Holy Light Clerics from time to time, and the clerics warmly called them by name in return.
What struck him most was a child walking past the Holy Light Clerics, a woman holding the child's little hand. The child instinctively saluted them. Rather than dismissing the gesture and walking away simply because it came from a child, the clerics returned the salute with equal solemnity.
At that moment, Dragon clearly understood what it meant to pass something on. As the adults and child exchanged salutes, he suddenly felt as though a ray