What's your dream

The streets became narrower, the buildings more worn down. Cracked walls, missing roof tiles, and shattered windows painted a clear picture of the hardships here. The scent of damp wood, unwashed clothes, and stale air grew stronger as they reached their home.

The house was barely standing—half the roof had caved in, and the walls were weak, as if a strong gust of wind could knock them over. Inside, it was no better. There was no warmth, no fireplace burning, just an empty hearth filled with ash. The air was thick with the smell of mold and something stale.

Rick and Zed sat at the small wooden table, its surface rough and uneven. Lana disappeared into the tiny kitchen and soon returned with their meal. On a chipped plate, she placed two steamed potatoes, a bowl of thin soup, and a few hard loaves of bread. Without a word, she served Zed first, giving him a whole potato, a bowl of soup, and the largest piece of bread. Then, she and Rick shared what remained.

Before eating, Lana and Rick bowed their heads, clasping their hands together in prayer. Zed watched in silence, feeling slightly out of place. As Rick prayed, Zed noticed his eyes flickering toward the potato on his plate, longing clear in his gaze. Without hesitation, Zed nudged the potato toward him under the table.

Rick's eyes widened. He looked up at Zed, who gave him a subtle wink. A second later, Rick grabbed the potato, quickly tucking it onto his own plate.

Lana finished her prayer and opened her eyes, unaware of the quiet exchange. "Let's eat."

Zed took a spoonful of soup and immediately froze. It was bland—no salt, no seasoning, just hot water with a faint taste of vegetables. The bread was dry and hard, crumbling at his touch

His chest tightened. He wasn't disgusted by the food—he was horrified by what it meant. these people lived like this every day, struggling to find a meal, forced to eat whatever they could just to survive.

He swallowed hard, his appetite vanishing.

"Where are your parents?" he asked softly.

Rick flinched, his small hands trembling slightly. Lana placed a gentle hand on his head before answering, her voice calm but carrying a weight of sorrow.

"They died three years ago... during a bandit raid."

Zed's breath caught in his throat. Three years. Three whole years, and no one had done anything for them. The realization hit like a punch to the gut. He had been so focused on his own growth—his training, his ambitions—that he had failed to see the state of the city, the corruption eating away at its core. He had lived comfortably while they had suffered.

A heavy weight settled in his chest. This wasn't just their story—it was the story of countless people in Highvale, in this land, suffering while he had spent his days training, blind to their pain.

"What's your favorite food?" he asked, wanting to lighten the mood, if only for a moment.

Lana tilted her head, surprised by the sudden question. "Cupcakes," she said after a pause. "My mother used to make them when we were little."

Rick's eyes lit up for the first time, a small spark of life breaking through the dullness in his gaze. He grinned. "Meat! A big chunk of meat!"

Zed's breath hitched.

Cupcakes and meat. Simple things. Small comforts. Yet, to them, it sounded like a dream—a luxury just out of reach.

He finally understood what Sir Jaeger had meant on the way to Highvale. The money his family provided—the wealth they poured into this city—hadn't made it to the people. It had been stolen, hoarded away by some baron or viscount with fat fingers and an even fatter purse. They took and took while the people starved.

And I… let it happen.

"I... I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I should have seen it sooner. Your suffering, the struggles of these people… How can I even call myself human when I've been blind to it all?"

The weight of his failure crashed down on him, raw and merciless. His throat tightened painfully as his vision blurred. Before he could stop himself, the tears began to fall, hot and unforgiving. He lowered his head, his hands clenching into fists on his lap as silent sobs shook his shoulders.

I never cried much before. Even after dying and waking up in this strange world, he hadn't shed a tear. Not when he struggled to adjust, not when he was beaten down in training, not even when the memories of his past life haunted him at night. But now—after seeing this… after seeing them suffer—he couldn't stop the tears. They kept falling, no matter how hard he tried to hold them back.

Lana, watching him, hesitated for only a moment before reaching out. Her small, cold fingers brushed over his trembling ones, light yet steady. Her touch carried a warmth that cut through the storm raging inside him.

"My lord," she said softly, her voice filled with quiet strength. "Whenever I apologized, my mother always told me this—"

She gave him a small, reassuring smile, her words carrying the wisdom of someone far beyond her years.

"Mistakes are meant to be corrected, not just regretted."

Zed's breath hitched. He lifted his gaze to meet hers, his wide, tear-filled eyes locking with Lana's calm, steady ones. There was no resentment there. No bitterness. Only quiet hope—fragile yet unwavering.

How can she still smile at me like that? After everything they'd been through—after everything he had failed to do—how could she still look at him with that kind of faith?

Zed's hands trembled beneath hers. He wiped his eyes roughly and inhaled shakily before speaking again, his voice steadier this time.

"I promise…" His hands curled over Lana's smaller ones, his grip firm but careful. "You won't have to eat scraps anymore. No one in Highvale will go hungry. No one will have to suffer like this ever again."

Rick, sensing the heaviness in the air, clapped his hands together with a bright grin. "Alright, enough of the sad talk! The food is getting cold!"

His cheerful voice cut through the tension, making both Zed and Lana blink in surprise. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, laughter bubbled up from them. Zed chuckled, wiping the last of his tears, while Lana shook her head with an amused sigh.

"You always think about food first, Rick," Lana teased, ruffling her little brother's hair.

"Of course! Food is important!" Rick pouted, then turned to Zed with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Besides, you promised we wouldn't eat scraps anymore, right? So, this might be our last chance to eat something this bad!"

Zed let out a genuine laugh, the warmth in his chest spreading. "You're right. In that case, we better cherish it!"

Lana rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile as they all picked up their spoons and began eating again. The soup might have been bland, the potatoes plain, but at that moment, it felt like the most comforting meal Zed had ever had.

And for the first time in a long while, as they sat together in that broken little home, surrounded by laughter and warmth, Zed didn't feel like a noble or a warrior—just a boy sharing a meal with new friends.

Later that night…

Zed sat cross-legged on the roof, gazing up at the endless night sky. Even though the city beneath him was broken—its buildings crumbling, its streets filled with hardship—the sky above remained untouched. Vast, endless, and breathtakingly beautiful. The cool night breeze brushed against his skin as he admired the stars, losing himself in their shimmering light.

After coming here, I didn't know what to do. I just did what I liked and thought it was enough. I felt… cool.

But now…

Now that I've seen how these people suffer—how they've been abandoned—I can't ignore it anymore. I won't close my eyes to it. I'll make those barons, mayors, and viscounts pay for what they've done.

But how? Should I kill them?

No—that wouldn't solve the root of the problem. Even if I wiped them all out, others would just rise to take their place. Corruption runs deeper than a single person.

A flicker of frustration burned beneath his skin. His chest tightened painfully as the weight of it all settled on his shoulders.

But before his thoughts could spiral further, he heard soft footsteps behind him.

Lana climbed up and settled beside him, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her long hair was loose, catching the moonlight as it fell over her shoulder.

"Are you really okay with sleeping here?" she asked, glancing at him with concern. "I mean… aren't your guards going to look for you?"

Zed smiled at her worry. "Don't worry. I shot an arrow with a message, letting them know I'd be staying at a friend's house tonight. And Sir Jaeger knows how I am—he won't send guards running all over the city looking for me."

Lana blinked, a little surprised. "You really trust them that much?"

"I do. And they trust me," Zed said, leaning back on his hands.

For a while, silence stretched between them. Only the distant murmur of the wind and the occasional creak of the city's aging rooftops filled the space. The cold air nipped at his skin, but Lana's quiet presence beside him made it feel warmer somehow.

What a kind and innocent girl…

If she had been born into a better life—or back on Earth—she would've been chasing after her dreams instead of struggling just to survive.

Zed's gaze drifted down to the city below—its dimly lit streets, the thin shapes of people huddled beneath makeshift shelters, the distant glow of a flickering torch.

"Say, Lana…" he said softly. "What's your dream?"

Lana let out a small, breathy laugh. "A dream?" She shook her head. "For people like us, just finding enough food for the next day is already a big thing. We don't have the luxury to dream."