Sister Hayla began giving them a tour of the village.
It was a breathtaking village, reminiscent of the idyllic settings Arin had seen in children's shows on TV in his previous life—a village radiating captivating beauty that would capture anyone's heart at first glance. Cobblestone paths wove through the town, connecting charming cottages with thatched roofs and half-timbered houses adorned with colorful flower boxes. This was so different from the village he had envisioned in his dream last night.
The picturesque town square appeared to be a bustling center of daily life. According to his vision, there was supposed to be a large stone altar, covered in dark runes that glowed with an eerie light. However, there was no such creepy, awe-inspiring altar. Instead, a majestic ancient oak tree dominated the square, its branches extending out like an ancient guardian's embrace.