"Village Chief, fledgling eagles must learn to fly eventually. For these children, the Black Fiend Army might just be the opportunity they need to soar into the sky." The Tailor stepped up to the Village Chief and patted him on the shoulder.
"Indeed, Village Chief, generation after generation of us have remained in these mountains. While we live without any threat to our lives, we have almost no contact with the outside world. The children born here can never travel to see farther places in their entire lives. Perhaps the small towns at the foot of the mountain are the farthest places they will ever reach." At this, the Blacksmith could not help sighing with emotion.
"They are right, Village Chief." The Butcher stood up boldly, his voice booming like a great bell. "Instead of growing old in obscurity within this mountain recess, why not let them pursue a moment of glory, even if it is only as fleeting as a shooting star streaking across the sky?"
Chapter 167