The player fought while cursing up a storm.
As the fighting went on, the player accidentally strayed from the main path.
Chasing an alloy knight into the outskirts and through a withered yellow forest, the player came upon a stretch of desolate wilderness.
Factory buildings, rust-covered iron frames, chimneys belching black smoke.
Just as it looked, a factory... but wasn't Elden Ring's setting supposed to be medieval? A factory felt a little out of place here!
Still, none of that stopped the player from looting somewhere new.
The player happily went inside, but soon lost the enthusiasm.
Look at what the player had found! How could the workers here be so numb?
They wore worn-out work clothes, their faces gaunt, their eyes sunken, their skin covered in grease and dust. They moved back and forth between the machines, carrying heavy parts, tightening screws, and pulling levers.
When the player approached, they showed no reaction.
They neither attacked the player nor fled.
The player tried attacking. A worker fell at the blow, killed in a single hit, and even dropped a point of light... they were weaker than the player had imagined.
But the worker beside him merely glanced at his fallen companion, then cold-bloodedly took the point of light from the corpse... the player had never seen such "greedy" enemies. What kind of junk could the white equipment on these workers possibly be? Were they greedy even for that?
Yet there was no expression on their faces. Fear? Anger? Grief? None of it. Let alone something as complex as shame.
They seemed completely indifferent to death. Had they died too many times, or did they think life had no value?
Blades struck their bodies, their flesh hurt, their hearts were numb. They witnessed their companions' deaths with their own eyes,