"How long will it take to get to the church?" Althur asked as he and young Brahms were swaying in the back seat of the dogcart.

"It won't be long now, sir. We can get there before the sun goes down." The driver leaned over and answered.

"I wonder if you two seem to be from the capital. Whatever. You two should be careful when you go out at night. We don't have as many night patrols here as in Phlegoneos. There are people who don't have any money left in their pockets when they come here. Therefore, they choose to rob passengers similar to Him. The desperate and fools"

"Thank you for the warning. You are such a good man." Althur praised.

The driver shrugged modestly. "I try to do what's right, sir. But not every man can be trusted in these lands. There are many who would take advantage of your kindness or your wealth. Especially that man in that place."

He gazed towards a hill not too far from the town, where a grand mansion stood tall and could be seen from a distance. "Not every man can be trusted, sir." He repeated.

"Why so?"

"You know the town legend, right, sir?"

""About gold mines or about dragons?" Althur asked.

"Nothing in either is real. It's a fraud, made up by some bastard."

"Steam and wheel; train and line—all of them are evil. They are the tools and spells that drain human life. But the Bible and the Holy Scriptures say nothing about this. They can't imagine this day, and neither do I."

"Who do you believe in?" Althur asked gently.

"I had lost my faith, Sir. When I rode this horse on the road for half of my life, I saw too much and prayed too much. But it was not only a miracle, so I decided to give up my faith and live like an astray."

"Bricky." Brahms exclaimed when he listened to the man's words. He recalled a different word in that newspaper.

"Thank you, young boy. Yes, I don't know, but I am very pleased with the life I have now. At least I have my precious mate." The man stroked his horse affectionately.

Perhaps the subject changed too heavily; the ride was about to fall into silence when the man deftly changed the topic of conversation.

"Besides humans, we also need to be careful with ghosts." The driver laughed as he gave the warning.

"Ghosts". Althur asked back in an amused tone.

"That's right, sir. Ghosts."

The man said, "I had a drunk friend. He recounted one evening when he was looking for a corner to sleep because he was so drunk, he didn't know his way back. Then he saw black shadows and long robes floating in the air. He thought he was dizzy, and that the drunkenness had robbed him of his sanity, so he thought he was mistaken. The sudden, bone-chilling cold woke him up, and the ghost just stared at him without disappearing. He was scared out of his mind, ran back to the pub, and shouted. Haha, that worn-out joke fools only fools."

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Althur was interested, while Brahms questioned why the narrative jumped from humans to ghosts.

"Oh my god, the way he tells it is interesting, like a man who saw Death and was still alive. So, from that day until now, he has not dared to go to the pub. It is believed that he was possessed by a ghost. But I believe it was because he was too shy to show up."

"Did he say where he saw ghosts?"

"I don't remember very well. But for what, sir?"

"If given the chance, I would like to meet those ghosts."

The driver was stunned; he did not expect to encounter a person with such a bizarre hobby. Even though I've never met a ghost before. But that horrible thing—what normal person would actively seek it out? Is that the pleasure of urban youths and free rich men? he thought to himself.

Althur didn't mind; he looked around at the city. Although it is called a town, however, it is just bigger than a typical town. All the activities in this place revolve around the coal mines. Classy bakeries, cheap pubs. The hundreds of plots of cultivated land are now becoming more valuable as the number of people flocking to this place increases.

Thanks to the railroad, a new source of revenue for this town comes from tourism. The more affluent residents wanted to enjoy the natural scenery and cool climate from the northerly winds blowing from the Imenso Mountains. This makes this town more than a small one built solely on coal mines.

Men are restrained in society; they look to more remote places to enjoy themselves. Alcohol, sex, and entertainment become another aspect of this place. Lust feeds the town.

Althur and Brahms got out of the car; he turned to the driver and said thank you.

The driver took off his hat in response to Althur's greeting. "I wish you a safe and happy journey." After saying that, he spurred his precious horse and left.

The two gazed at the dogcart driver as he skillfully steered the horses around the bend, then turned their attention to the magnificent structure behind them. The sun was setting behind the building, casting a warm glow on its intricate details and causing the colored doorways to reflect the golden light all around like lush fields. The building was like a beautiful tree in the middle of a harvest.

...

"Althur, are you going to see the ghosts?"

"Of course, ghosts always tell the truth." Althur looked back at Braham and replied with a smile.

"Since we are new here, wouldn't it be better to make a new friend?" He touched his chin slightly as he said, "That's right, little Brahams. The friends I had made have helped me a lot."

"But how"

"A few friendly greetings, and it will work. Don't worry, I'll show you how to do it."

The present time is the fourth month of the year, Auxanos, the month of germination or joy. A good time to visit any place that belongs to the church of Haya.

On the road, the green trees are full of yellow leaves, and the orange sunlight dyes the whole street. Everything seemed so peaceful. There are gentlemen in suits carrying briefcases with small documents on this street to go home, ladies with fringed dresses riding in carriages in the afternoon, as well as nannies holding children's hands to bring them home from a walk in the nearby park. A peaceful scene relaxes the observer.

The carriage driver seemed to be a dusty man who liked to talk, and during the short 15-minute ride he seemed to be venting out all his grievances about the town and tearing apart his illusory dreams as a newcomer.

"Don't believe those rumors; it's all lies; they trick people into coming here to dig coal."

"Poor children, they must go to hell."

It is not a story of its own; not only in this town, rumors and hoaxes push landless farmers to the edge of despair.

They had no choice but to become workers for the wealthy factory and mine owners who promised them a better life. But the promises were empty, and the reality was far from what they had hoped for.

At least the man let a little hope light up inside his soul.

This is a new age; we can either ride the wave of the times to greatness or let our souls drown in despair.