As Alonso navigated the bustling streets, he quickly noticed the variety of races mingling throughout the city. Dwarves with sturdy builds, elves with their ethereal grace, halflings and orcs, along with beastmen of unfamiliar races—creatures Alonso had never seen before. His analytical mind raced, fascinated by the sight. In his past life, these beings had only existed in myths and legends. Now, they were very real, and Alonso couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the possibility of interacting with them.

Yet, as he observed more closely, something darker caught his attention.

At first, he assumed the cold treatment he received from the humans was solely because he was an Oni—a race known for their power and feared by many. But soon, Alonso's sharp intellect began piecing together another, more insidious reason. As he watched the interactions around him, the disparity between the humans and the other races became glaringly obvious.

Humans walked proudly through the streets, their posture and expressions brimming with an air of superiority. In contrast, the non-human races—whether they were dwarves, elves, or others Alonso didn't recognize—were treated with disdain. They were either ignored or barked at like dogs, forced to step aside as humans passed, their eyes downcast in silent submission. Alonso noticed how many of them were relegated to menial tasks, doing labor that humans would not dirty their hands with.

The pattern was unmistakable.

It wasn't just his status as an Oni that had drawn such hostility—it was the simple fact that he wasn't human. His mind processed this information quickly, his distaste for the ignorance around him growing with each new observation.

Humans, he thought with a sneer. They fear what they don't understand, and instead of seeking knowledge, they choose to harbor hatred.

He continued walking, his sharp gaze analyzing the dynamics of the city. Discrimination wasn't just tolerated here—it was ingrained in their way of life. The humans saw themselves as superior, and anything or anyone that didn't fit their narrow definition of 'normal' was shunned, feared, or oppressed. This realization sparked irritation within him.

Ignorance, he thought bitterly, is the greatest enemy to progress.

Alonso despised ignorance, and seeing it play out so openly in the city gnawed at him. The humans' arrogance and refusal to engage with the non-humans infuriated him, not because of how they treated him, but because of how it symbolized a collective failure of understanding. They were shackled by their own narrow worldview, and to Alonso, that was unforgivable.

His fascination with the new races he encountered was tempered by this bitter truth. He had come to this city hoping to learn, but instead, he found himself confronted with a reality he had seen many times before—one where fear and ignorance bred hatred and division. And, as always, it was the ignorant who suffered for it most, whether they realized it or not.

As Alonso continued down the street, his sharp eyes locked onto a troubling scene unfolding ahead. A tall, ragged man stood over a woman, his posture tense and violent as his hand came down on her with brutal force. The woman, an elf, with long, cascading blonde hair and vivid blue eyes, flinched under his attack. Her pointed ears and pale, reddish skin marked her heritage, making her an easy target for the vile human towering over her.

She tried to shield herself with trembling arms, her breath hitching with each brutal strike. Desperation flickered in her tear-filled eyes, but her cries were muffled by the man's jeering laughter. His movements were savage, his intent clear—this wasn't just a beating; it was an act of pure malice, fed by hatred for what she was. Her pain only seemed to fuel his aggression, his blows becoming more forceful with every hit.

Alonso watched in silence for a moment, his expression cold and unreadable. He had no delusions of being a hero, nor did he feel compelled by chivalry. However, the sight before him sparked a deep annoyance. This wasn't justice; this was cowardice—an attack born from ignorance and blind hatred.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

The man sneered, raising his hand again, the twisted satisfaction clear on his face as the elf woman whimpered. She stumbled backward, her body trembling, too weak to run, too terrified to fight back. Alonso moved without a second thought. His body blurred, and before the man's hand could land another strike, Alonso's iron grip clamped onto his wrist.

The man froze, his eyes wide as he looked up in surprise. His sneer vanished the moment he registered who had intervened. Alonso's imposing figure loomed over him, horns casting a shadow over the man's face. The cold, calculating gleam in Alonso's purple eyes sent an immediate chill down his spine.

Fear replaced the man's arrogance. His mouth opened in a stutter, but no words came out. He was paralyzed, caught in the gaze of an Oni, a creature that most humans feared and reviled. The man tried to pull his wrist free, but Alonso's grip was like a vice—unrelenting, unmoved by his struggles.

The sinister gleam in the man's eyes flickered out, replaced by raw terror. Alonso didn't need to say a word. His presence alone was enough to make the human crumble. The man's body shook violently as he yanked his arm free, stumbling backward with a desperate grunt. He didn't look back as he turned and fled, his footsteps frantic as they faded into the distance.

The elf woman slumped to the ground, gasping for breath, her body trembling from the trauma of the attack. Her wide, tear-streaked eyes followed the retreating figure of the man before shifting to Alonso, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified by his presence.

The elf woman slowly stood up, her body shaking slightly as she brushed herself off. She looked at Alonso with a grateful smile, her bright eyes filled with relief. "Thank you, kind sir. I don't know what I would have done without your intervention."

Alonso observed her for a moment, noting how her long, golden hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, contrasting sharply with her pale, reddened skin. Her pointed ears marked her as an elf, and though she seemed fragile in this moment, there was a strange charm about her—a quiet resilience that intrigued him.

She quickly diverted her gaze, almost shyly, as though sensing his attention. "Might I know your name, noble one?" she asked, offering a small, respectful bow, her voice warm and humble.

Alonso extended his hand toward her, an act both formal and analytical, his sharp mind processing every subtle detail of her demeanor. "I am Alonso," he replied, calm and composed. His sharp purple eyes flickered with curiosity as he continued to study her movements, her tone, the way she held herself despite her shaken state.

"And What's yours?" he added, his voice imbued with an ancient wisdom that belied his youthful appearance.

"I'm Maria," she responded with a soft, genuine smile that lit up her face, momentarily erasing the pain of the beating. Her warmth was unmistakable, an almost childlike innocence radiating from her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Alonso. I've never seen an Oni in this town before. May I inquire as to where you reside?"

Alonso raised an eyebrow, his sharp mind picking up on the nuances in her tone—a mixture of curiosity and slight concern. He scratched the back of his head, a rare moment of self-consciousness crossing his features. "I have only recently arrived today," he admitted, though his voice remained steady. "I currently lack a place to stay."

Maria's brow furrowed briefly in confusion but then softened with understanding, her nurturing nature quickly surfacing. Her humility was evident in every word and gesture. Without missing a beat, she offered, "Why don't you stay at my abode for the night? It's nothing fancy, but it's warm and safe." Her voice carried a natural kindness, almost as if offering hospitality to a stranger was second nature to her.

Alonso, though not prone to sentimentality, found himself taken aback by her straightforward generosity. There was no hesitation, no calculation—just pure sincerity. Her offer struck him as both pitiful and admirable, a contradiction of fragility and strength.

Despite his instinct to refuse, something about Maria's humble demeanor touched him. He nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. "That is... quite considerate of you," he said, though the words felt strange on his tongue.

As he followed her through the narrow streets, the stark disparity between the well-dressed humans and the poor demi-humans around them became clearer. He observed the way people avoided eye contact with Maria, their gazes filled with disdain, not just for her being an elf, but for what she represented. The divide between the races here was more than just a physical separation—it was ingrained in the very culture of this city.

When they arrived at her small, rundown hut, Alonso's keen eyes immediately assessed the situation. Two small boys, no older than ten, rushed out to greet her, their wide smiles belying the clear poverty surrounding them.

Alonso's gaze softened as he observed the exchange between Maria and her children. The warmth, the simplicity of their bond—it was alien to him. He had lived so long, experienced so many lifetimes, that family had become a distant, almost forgotten memory. Watching Maria interact with her sons stirred something deep within him, a faint echo of what he had lost. His own past was a fog—he couldn't even remember what his parents looked like, let alone recall the feeling of familiar love

Alonso's sharp eyes caught sight of a tattered book lying on a rickety table, its cover worn and faded. Intrigued, he leaned in closer to examine it. The title, barely legible through the cracks and weathering, read: The History of the Blazing Star Continent. Despite its poor condition, the book piqued his curiosity. It appeared to be a children's book, judging by the colorful yet simplistic illustration of a map on the cover, with exaggerated stars and flames scattered across the design.

For a moment, Alonso ran his fingers over the brittle edges of the pages, feeling the weight of forgotten knowledge. Though designed for children, there was something captivating about it—a glimpse into the culture and history of this world, no matter how watered down for young minds. His analytical mind churned with possibilities as he considered the value even such a basic text might hold for someone new to this strange land.

Knowledge is knowledge, no matter how simplified, he thought, picking up the book with care.