Chapter 9: The End of an Era (2)
I let out a quiet, derisive laugh as I step out of the grand, murky hall, finding myself alone in the corridor.
Yes, gods exist. But they rarely show themselves. And they are not like the stories told to red children—the fairy tales promising salvation after death, a punishment or reward. I doubt such things exist.
Or perhaps they do.
The probability, however, is slim.
Gods should be just.
Yet the gold-blooded allow an entire species—greater in number than our own—to suffer, simply because the ruling class refuses to abandon their noble lie.
More weaklings mean more wealth for the elite.
Why do I know this? It is obvious. One does not need to be of high birth to see it. I am certain even the lower and middle classes understand it.
But the poor are powerless.
The middle class is content with their scraps.
And the wealthy—