Under the overcast dawn sky, the villagers of Mirstone Town knelt before the outermost gate of the Sacred Sakura Holy Land. They were clad in tattered clothing, each person bearing the marks of hardship and mistreatment. Their faces were etched with sorrow and desperation
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint sobs of the elderly. Mothers held their children close, shielding them from the biting cold wind, while men, with furrowed brows and clenched fists, fought back tears of helplessness. For a full night, the villagers remained on their knees, expressing their pleas to the passing Sacred Sakura's disciples.
"Please, show us mercy!" The village chief cried out. His voice was hoarse from repeated cries for justice.
He and his fellow villagers begged for the Sacred Sakura's intervention against the corrupt mayor who recently ruled over the Mirstone Town, wielding violence and indulging in wickedness and depravity.
Virtue is more to be feared than vice because its excesses are not subject to the regulation of conscience.