Infinite Paths: The Raging Phoenix-Chapter 49 Information Control

Five days passed, and Rain's grandparents succumbed to the relentless grip of illness, joining their ancestors in the realm beyond. It was a heartbreaking blow for Rain, for despite the difficult relationship he had with them, they were still family. With their departure, Rain and his small family were left to face the harsh reality of loss once more.

In the midst of their grief, Rain and his remaining kin mustered every ounce of strength to honor their grandparents' memory. With their limited resources, they scraped together enough funds to give their beloved elders a proper farewell. The meager sum barely covered the essentials, but Rain was determined to pay his respects, even if it meant making sacrifices elsewhere.

The somber procession to the burial grounds felt like a solemn march, the weight of their sorrow palpable in the air. However, the ordeal was far from over. The cloud of misfortune that shrouded Rain's family had taken its toll on their standing in the community. The once suspiciously warm interactions with neighbors and acquaintances turned cold, replaced by a cautious distance. News of their misfortunes spread like wildfire, and no one wanted to risk associating themselves with a family seemingly cursed by tragedy.

With heavy hearts, Rain, his mother, and his sisters found themselves uprooted from the familiar confines of the inn. The inn that had once welcomed them with open arms became tainted with the lingering whispers of hardship. Doors closed, opportunities dwindled, and their desperation grew with each rejection. They were left with no choice but to seek refuge elsewhere, away from the judging gazes and whispered judgments.

The search for a new inn proved arduous, their journey through the streets a stark reminder of their newfound social stigma. Doors slammed shut, innkeepers turned them away, and the glimmers of hope grew dim. It seemed that no one wanted to risk getting entangled with Rain's family, fearing the specter of misfortune might seep into their own lives.

"Mom, you can use a bit of mana, right?" Rain asked. "Now that we don't have the backing of the Lonard family's head, we need to be careful here until Father returns. Use the magic staves if something happens while I am working. I think you also should start educating Dana and Kei in things like reading and writing. You never know when that will be useful."

"Right… sorry for making you carry this weight alone," Leiah said while showing a tired smile.

"It is nothing, we just have to do our parts, and we don't have to expose ourselves too much while I work outside alone," Rain said.

Truth be told, Leiah was the one who had the hardest since she also had the memories of losing her home twice and seeing her husband going to war who knows how many times… he also had to endure the girls asking for their Father. Rain wouldn't be able to endure that… the flames of the furnace seemed lukewarm if compared to it.

While Rain was working with Lotto, the rugged blacksmith, he was learning a lot, and he was hoping that such knowledge would make him earn more money in the future. With every passing day, he absorbed the intricate details of the craft, honing his skills and expanding his understanding.

He learned the art of sharpening weapons, carefully running the stone across the blade, each stroke enhancing its keenness and edge. With diligent patience, he transformed dull and worn weapons into gleaming instruments of war.

Polishing armor became another facet of his expertise. From leather to plate, Rain dedicated himself to restoring the luster and shine of battle-worn protection. His hands glided over the surfaces, buffing away imperfections and revealing the underlying brilliance. With every stroke, he breathed new life into the armor, ensuring its durability and functionality on the battlefield.

The heart of the blacksmith's realm was within the forge, a place of heat and transformation. Rain delved deep into the process, learning the intricacies of manipulating metal with fire and force. He witnessed the raw materials morphing under the intense heat, their malleability giving birth to new creations. From the rhythmic pounding of the hammer to the mesmerizing dance of the flames, he became one with the forge.

But his education didn't stop there. Rain eagerly absorbed the knowledge of appraising ores, learning to discern their quality and potential. He studied the subtle nuances of color, texture, and composition, understanding the significance of each element. With a trained eye, he could identify the worth and usability of different ores, making informed decisions in their acquisition and utilization. It was all theory, of course.

"There are a lot of things to learn, but in times of war, military and medicine advance at leaps and bounds," Rain thought.

Two weeks had passed since Rain had last seen his Father, and it was around the time his grandparents passed away. Despite that, the next two weeks passed even faster, and the news about the war to recover Tristan wasn't spreading at all.

"This is odd," Rain thought. "I need to find an explanation and reason for this... without knowledge, we will only be controlled by others." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸𝘦𝒷𝑛𝘰𝑣𝘦𝘭.𝑐𝘰𝘮

There could be several reasons why people might not have heard much about the war. The authorities or those in power could be actively suppressing news and information about the war. They might control the rumors and limit the dissemination of any reports or updates to maintain control over the narrative and prevent panic or unrest among the general population.

The government or warring factions could be manipulating the information available to the public. They might disseminate propaganda or control the narrative to shape public opinion and maintain control over the dissemination of news related to the war.

People may be preoccupied with their daily lives or other pressing issues, leading to a lack of attention or interest in the war. They might prioritize their immediate concerns over understanding or engaging with news from conflict zones. Either way, none of those were good…