The intellectual city-state burns books, the Crimson Principality sells jokes, the Golden Alliance prices souls... God's order is perfect, but it cannot tolerate "people".
Feng Nongyue broke into this iron curtain with a group of "failures": the voiceless elf singer, the semi-mechanical AI boy, the half-orc with a blood feud, the mermaid mother holding a baby... They had nothing but the doubt that refused to be extinguished.
He taught the children to copy the "Illustrated Book of Plants" among the ruins, sang funeral songs in the arena, and wrote justice in blood in front of the grain cart. His weapons are playing cards, his armor is a piece of shit, and his shield is the trust entrusted to him by his companions.
The gods were furious: "Mortal, how dare you steal my truth with your jokes?"
Feng Nongyue blinked: "That's wrong, sir. We are just taking back things that belong to people."
When the world collapses into ruins, please remember - there is always someone in the ashes, telling a new joke for tomorrow.
