Leaving home behind, Roland couldn't help but heave a sigh.
How could he not know that his elderly father at home was no longer physically fit?
Although the Terra People were generally in good health, it was clear that Steward Moda had suffered mental harm, and his body was worn from years of toil.
If he had rested well and dealt with the worries in his heart, that would have been fine, but in the last six months with the turmoil caused by Mountain People and the disasters of famine, rebellion, war, and territorial disputes, the old man really couldn't endure such torment.
Especially since the father himself no longer wanted to live.
"What else can I do?"
With a sigh, Roland felt quite despondent.
But he braced himself, preparing to seriously make the most of each day.
This was his creed—to never live a mediocre life, to always have a unique style, and to strive to have no regrets before death.
