Utopian System

Throughout the plaza, similar scenes unfolded.

Mothers who would never again embrace their children stood frozen in grief, their hands reaching out to touch cold metal where once they had felt warm skin.

Fathers who had proudly sent warriors to the wall now received statues in return, their faces etched with the particular agony of outliving their children.

Brothers and sisters whose last words had been trivial arguments now found those petty disagreements weighing like mountains in their hearts, the chance for reconciliation forever lost.

A small child, no older than Rian, touched his father's statue in confusion. "When will he return?" he asked again and again, while his mother held him, unable to answer.

Not far away, Selene stood in silence before Raelar's tree.

Her fingers traced the contours of his statue with a tenderness that spoke of memories too precious for words, as if trying to memorize every line, every curve that captured his essence.

There were no tears in her eyes, but the pain in them ran deeper than any crying could express.

Micah's parents remained embraced before their son's tree, sharing whispered memories of his first summon, his dreams of glory, his sarcastic laughter that would now live only in their hearts. Each memory was a treasure and a torment, precious moments that would never be added to.

Zara knelt hugging the statue before them, her usual strength giving way to silent tears. She made no effort to maintain her strong image, letting grief flow freely as she mourned not just a friend, but a brother.

Diana stood rigid, her fingers white around her divine sword as she stared at her brother's statue. Varick, who had always been the family's pride, the promising heir, now reduced to metal and memory.

She hated him...

The tears she had held back for years finally began to fall, each drop carrying years of resentment transforming into pure, unfiltered pain.

"Idiot," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Always so proud, so sure..." She fell to her knees before the statue, her shoulders shaking as years of complicated feelings collapsed into simple, devastating loss.

♢♢♢♢

Lena watched as her son moved among the families, offering personal words to each one.

He spent an especially long moment with Enid's mother, sharing what appeared to be a particularly emotional moment that spoke of debts that could never be repaid and gratitude that could never be fully expressed.

Elio had built a tree for his family to visit too, with her father's statue beside it. Though it had no ashes like the others, Elio had buried a crystal containing 100 mana points beneath it.

"Your brother," Lena whispered to her children, "has grown so much." Her voice carried pride tinged with a mother's eternal worry.

"Can we visit the tree whenever we want?" asked little Jacky, her bright eyes fixed on the statues, trying to understand the weight of the moment in her childish way.

"Yes, my love," Lena responded, embracing her youngest daughter, her arms tightening as if to protect her from ever having to understand such loss herself. "These trees and these statues are a gift for all of us. A reminder that even in our losses, there is hope and honor."

♢♢♢♢

The pain was palpable, thick as the smoke still rising from the pyres.

But then Elio stepped forward, his divine armor catching the last rays of the setting sun, transforming him into a beacon of light against the gathering dusk.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Look at them," his voice rang clear and strong across the plaza. "Look how their trees reach for the sky, how their statues stand proud and firm." He paused, letting his words sink in. "They are not lost. They are here, in every leaf that whispers in the wind, in every ray of sunlight that reflects off the metal that guards their memory."

His eyes swept across the crowd, finding each face marked by grief, acknowledging each individual loss while speaking to their collective pain.

"When you need strength, come here. When you miss their presence, sit beneath these branches. When you doubt the path, look upon these statues and remember why they fought, why they sacrificed."

He approached Zara, helping her to her feet with gentle firmness. "We honor their memory not just with tears, but with determination. They gave their lives so we could move forward, so we could build the future they fought for."

His voice rose, gathering power like a storm. "For them, we shall continue! For them, we will conquer every ring, defeat every threat! Let these statues and these trees bear witness to our oath!"

"FOR THE FALLEN!" The cry began with Kriz and spread like wildfire through the crowd.

"FOR THE FALLEN!" The voices rose, mixing with the whisper of new leaves in a chorus of grief and determination.

Elio raised his divine sword, the metal blazing with the last rays of sun. "FOR THEM WE SHALL KEEP FIGHTING!"

The response was immediate, even stronger. "FOR THEM WE SHALL KEEP FIGHTING!"

The power in his voice grew with each word. "FOR THEM WE SHALL CONQUER!"

"FOR THEM WE SHALL CONQUER!" The roar was deafening, a promise that seemed to shake the very immovable walls of the city.

The trees swayed with the force of that final cry, their leaves whispering in harmony with the determination that had begun to replace raw grief. The statues seemed to glow with their own light as the sun finished setting, as if the spirits of the fallen were adding their own voices to the oath.

In that moment, as the first stars appeared in the sky, pain began to transform into something more: purpose, the promise of a future for which so many had given their lives.

In that moment, under the first stars of night, the entire city united in a promise: the fallen would be remembered not just in metal and wood, but in every future victory, in every step forward.

The trees swayed gently in the night breeze, their leaves singing a song of memory and hope, while the statues stood guard in silence, eternal sentinels of those who would never be forgotten.

♢♢♢♢

The aroma of food began to fill the plaza, mingling with the perfume of newly grown trees. Elio had ordered good food to be distributed, ensuring each family had enough for a true celebration of life amidst their mourning.

"Tears are necessary," he declared, his voice carrying the same intensity he had used for the oath. "But now is the time to celebrate what we have achieved thanks to their sacrifices."

"To expansion!" shouted Kriz, raising his glass. "To the first step into the outside world!"

"To two million!" someone else responded, and soon the toasts multiplied, each one a bridge between grief and hope.

The tables gradually filled. Families, their eyes still red from crying, began to share stories of their loved ones. Laughter started to mix with tears as memories flowed alongside the food, each tale a thread in the tapestry of lives that would never be forgotten.

The celebration extended through the night and well into the next morning. The statues and trees seemed to stand guard over the festivities, as if the fallen themselves were participating in the feast, their presence felt in every shared story, every tearful laugh, every moment of remembrance.

As dawn broke the next day, Lucien and Ren's return found the city slowly awakening from the celebration, forever changed by a night that had transformed raw grief into purposeful remembrance.