To some, immortality is viewed as flawed, for who could endure the weight of eternity? No sentient being is meant to suffer through such a fate. Hallowed iron has no such weakness. As an object, it presents itself as the perfect vessel of immortality, a metal that stays strong for an immeasurable time. Never rusting tools, never dulling blades, hallowed iron is perfection incarnate. Arata still sold it, paying the toll to enter Basin City.
The only special thing about that sword is the durability of the metal. I'm sure if I'm meant to save the world, I'll need to find something better.
Arata passes through the city gates, the entrance is breathtaking, with bustling streets and stone houses straight out of a historical site. Yet the street just kept going upwards, the architecture tried to direct the eyes of those who gazed upon it up towards the grand dam.
The city dam was especially impressive considering that the whole place was under sea level, the town's folk had great trust in the dam's structure. The buildings got taller the further into the city you got and the closer you got to the dam.
The inner walls of the city were puny in comparison. You had to stop to witness such a grand sight, unless you were Arata. I got to find some place to eat… what kind of food do they even have in this world?
Arata spots out of the corner of his eye a small shop where they are grilling chicken. He decides to step inside, ordering the hot meal he had dreamed of, he watches as it comes out with a glass of murky but drinkable water.
He takes the hot piece of meat up to his mouth and begins to think: Well, disappointing, but at least there's salt. The meat is of bad quality here. The water's better than nothing, I guess. I got my hopes up for coming to this town, but it kinda sucks.
Arata pays up and leaves, at least being able to fill his stomach after forever. However, hunger wasn't the only immediate need; he was sleepy. He searched the streets, getting deeper into the city, his pessimistic attitude tracked.
Navigating through the town without a map meant he got lost immediately; however, Arata wasn't out of luck yet. There was a towering church. The structure looked straight out of a fantasy series, towering gray stones and an open door for the public to enter. Nuns stood at the front, yet surprisingly, none were wearing a veil. Arata approaches slowly, trying to maintain discretion.
A young brown haired girl with a bubbly expression, "Hey, mister, are you here to make a prayer? Please welcome yourself inside." The child was innocent and seemingly had very polite manners; the church's teachings clearly had some kind of effect on the people of this world.
The structure was well decorated, and many of the nuns were still cleaning up after a mass. However, looking up, Arata noticed something strange; just like the nuns, the building had no top as sunlight was being let in through the lack of a roof.
I was just trying to ask a question, but I'm not good at turning down kids. Besides, maybe she's not the best person to ask for directions. "Mother Alma, we have a visitor, it's a foreigner." The young girl shouts at one end of the church. Mother Alma began to sigh at the young one's energy.
Mother Alma greets Arata, "Welcome, boy, what brings you to this church? You seem weary from your travels. I hope the people can welcome you with hospitality and open hearts."
"Yeah, thanks, I just needed a few directions and I'll be all good to go." Arata quickly explains himself, hoping his presence wasn't too disturbing to the quiet church.
Mother Alma chuckles, "First, why don't you stop to make your prayer, say thanks to the gods for your safe journey to Basin city. Press your palms together and face up in gratitude." I don't see the harm… would Ravenna be pissed as an angel if I didn't properly pray? Whatever, I will just focus.
Arata steps out. He stands before a statue of a god with their eyes covered by a crown of flowers, surrounded by angels in stained glass windows. As he prays, he could've sworn he saw the angels begin to dance as a holy light shines through the cracks of his palms, which he had pressed together. He sees one with realistic-looking skin, descending to greet him from up above. Her skirt flutters in the wind, she looks majestic, but…
In shock, he opens his mouth wide at the sight, muttering under his breath, "Angels really shouldn't wear short skirts." The slow descent of the angel stops; now it's a speeding bullet, a dropkick from above nails Arata in the face.
Yet that strike wasn't the last. Ravenna begins to speak to Arata menacingly, "You really thought you'd be that lucky? It's useless!" She sweeps him by the legs before pulling her skirt down.
The nuns all look shocked, in their eyes, a man got hit in the face by the air before tripping on it into the ground. The children in the church all begin to giggle at Arata, talking about "strange foreigner" as Mother Alma covers her expression. Note to self, keep mouth shut next time. Kinda worth it.
"You're a real jackass, man! I almost wanted to compliment you for your prayer!" Ravenna looks at him with irritation at his comment. However, someone else is in shock.
"Sir! Are you bleeding? Here, I have a handkerchief, let me get your nose! What just happened!" Mother Alma rushes over to tend to Arata's wound. As she rushes over, she phases right through Ravenna, who is standing in front of her.
That angel! She's making me look stupid in front of all the nuns. I just need to ask my question and go now! Arata holds his hand out, taking the handkerchief before asking Mother Alma, "Any idea where a good inn would be? I'm exhausted from my journey."
Mother Alma finally gives Arata the answer he was looking for all day, "Yes, try turning right after you exit the church, there's a pub with a pig on the sign. They sell rooms to stay in for the night. However, do be careful around that area; there are gambling dens and brothels, many travellers similar to yourself end up stabbed dead in the alleyways of the red light district.