Wright slowly walked among the collapsed ruins. The wind from the south blew through the fields, the trampled wheat fields, and into this devastated place. The wind no longer carried the smell of blood and burning, but it carried a kind of moisture and sweetness, which indicated that a summer rain might come soon.
After the rain, the plants would sprout again, and new buds would grow in the destroyed fields. Nature always recovered faster than human beings, and this village that was set on fire by the nobles' defeated soldiers, no one knew when it would be rebuilt.
This small team was not here to clean up the battlefield. Wright and his new comrades were only ordered to go to the Hoseman prison camp from the Kant area to replace the medical staff there. It was a coincidence that they passed by the ruins, and the team would not stay here for too long. Wright knew this, but he still wanted to hold a small purification ceremony for the village. It was also his responsibility as a priest.
After obtaining the permission of the team's commander, he came to the center of the ruins of the village. There was a collapsed long house, which was probably the place where the villagers gathered. The house had been burned down, and the charred boards and beams were buried in the broken soil and gravel like a mess of disordered dead branches. The thin beams used to support the roof were like bony strange limbs pointing to the blue sky.
Next to the house was a well that had been filled in.
Wright found a tidy tile from the ruins and put it next to the well. He poured some water into the tile and put a few small wild flowers next to it. Then he took out a white candle that was only the length of a thumb and put it behind the tile to symbolize the Holy Light.
After he had arranged all this, he gently rubbed his fingers above the candle.
Nothing happened, not even the slightest bit of Holy Light appeared.
Wright silently withdrew his hand and took out a small igniter from his pocket. It was a small magic device made of two copper plates engraved with fire elemental runes and a small magic crystal. He put the igniter close to the candle and pressed the switch. The front of the rune copper plate immediately emitted a red light and ignited the candle wick.
"May the Holy Light protect your path forward … You will no longer be trapped in the cold and darkness … May your souls be at peace … From now on, you will be free from hunger and suffering …"
Wright whispered the prayer and then bent down to extinguish the candle. But before he put the candle away, he suddenly saw something familiar lying quietly among the weeds beside the well from the corner of his eye.
It was an iron badge, about the size of a hazelnut. It had the symbol of a circle and a beam of light on it, and on the edge of the badge, there were iron rings used for threading belts or threads. This was a badge of the Holy Light, which was hung on the breastplate of a Knight of the Vatican.
Wright picked up the badge and quietly looked at the emblem on it that represented the Church of Holy Light.
He suddenly remembered that the allied army of nobles had pastors and priests from the Holy Spirit Plains, and even the Knight of the Holy See.
He turned around and looked at the burned Longhouse. In the ruins of the Longhouse, he finally vaguely sensed a trace of magic fluctuation. It was the breath left behind by the Holy Light.
Wright pinched the lost badge of the Holy Light in his hand, twisting and rolling it up bit by bit.
At this moment, a very subtle sound suddenly entered the ears of the pastor, which instantly attracted his attention.
It was a very short, very soft sound, like a twig falling on the ground. It might be more obvious than the sound of a light rabbit running across the grass. But Wright still noticed this strange sound, and he immediately looked for it. He searched back and forth beside the collapsed Longhouse many times.
Finally, he found a cover covered by mud, gravel, and charred wood, as well as an iron ring fixed to the cover.
Wright casually threw a few large stones and wood to the side, and then grabbed the iron ring on the cover with one hand. He pulled hard and lifted the cover. In the darkness under the cover, he saw a dozen pairs of frightened eyes.
"There are survivors here!"
The soldiers quickly gathered, and after more than ten fully armed soldiers appeared, the frightened civilians in the cellar finally had no choice but to come out. Wright counted by the side, there were a total of seventeen people, men, women, and children.
These people were dressed in ragged clothes, and their faces were sallow and emaciated because they had not seen the sun for many days. They might have been hiding in the cellar after the noble soldiers left. At this moment, they were so weak that even standing was difficult. They could only lean on each other and gather into a small group, looking at the unfamiliar soldiers in front of them with frightened eyes.
A combat soldier jumped down from the open cellar door, and a moment later, the soldier climbed up the ladder. "There are three more down there. They are dead, and we need help to carry them up."
The commander of the small team ordered the other soldiers to go down and help, while he came to the survivors. "You are the people of this village? You are the only ones left? "
The survivors looked at each other with frightened expressions. Some shook their heads, some nodded hesitantly, and some just stood there in a daze, as if they did not understand the commander's words at all.
"Go get some food and water first." The commander sighed and turned to the people around him. "Don't get the jerky, they may choke to death."
The food was quickly brought over, but the dozen or so people just looked at it with vigilance and suspicion. They swallowed their saliva, but no one dared to go forward. It was only when the soldiers stuffed the food into their hands that they were sure that the food was really for them.
After the first person stuffed the food into his mouth, the others immediately gobbled it up. Wright could feel that as the food entered their stomachs, these people finally became a little less vigilant against the soldiers in front of them.
Although they were still very nervous.
"You are the people of this village?" After those people had regained some of their strength, Wright walked to them and asked in a gentle tone, "You've been hiding in the cellar all this time? Is there any other cellar in the village? "
A few villagers looked at Wright's burly figure with a little fear, but finally, one of them said, "We are … there is no one else …"
Then the person who spoke pointed to the cellar behind him, and then to the people around him. "Just us."
"We are Gwen? Duke Cecil's army, "the squad commander said." Don't be afraid, you are safe. "
However, the villagers did not seem to understand the words of the squad commander. They did not respond at all and looked fearfully at the melting swords on the waist of the soldiers.
"Cecil's army is different from other armies. We don't rob food." The squad commander certainly knew what the villagers were afraid of. "Who burned down the village? Viscount Consecco's Knight? Viscount Carroll's men? Or other nobles? "
The villagers could not help but tremble when they heard these names, but no one dared to answer the squad commander's question directly, as if they were afraid that they would be hanged on the gallows the next day if they spoke. But after a few seconds, a clear voice said, "It's Knight in a white robe …"
The one who spoke was a child. Judging from the voice, it should be a girl, but before she could finish her sentence, the adults next to her quickly covered the child's mouth, and the rest of her words could only be muffled whimpers.
Leiter squatted down in front of the child and waved for the adults to move aside. He looked into the child's eyes — a pair of particularly bright eyes. Although the little girl was not beautiful at all, her rough and dry skin had large freckles, and her withered and messy hair covered a quarter of her face, the pair of big eyes that peeked out from behind the messy hair left a deep impression on people.
Wright looked at the pair of eyes and asked word by word, "The Knight in a white robe — are they the Knight of the church?"
The little girl shook her head in a daze, and then nodded hesitantly. "I don't know … but they have priests with them …"
Finally, some of the survivors could not help but sob in a low voice. "We have handed in food … We have all handed in food …"
Leiter knew what this seemingly random sentence meant.
They had handed in food — when the allied noble army set out, the civilians in every territory must have donated food and belongings as military provisions. The nobles would confiscate these things on the grounds that "we are sending out troops to protect you", and many civilians would easily believe these words (because it was meaningless even if they did not believe it, the right to speak was in the hands of the feudal lords). Perhaps even when the defeated noble army from the frontline came to plunder the villages and set fire to the houses, they still did not understand what was going on.
Even now, when they saw Cecil's people appear in front of them, few of them would think that these 'outlanders' in front of them were the ones who fought the feudal lords. Or even if they thought of it, they would not have any reaction to it. They would only lament their misfortune and fear the swords and staffs in the hands of the nobles, the Knight, and the soldiers. Above this, the more complicated relationship of interests was something they could not understand.
The only thing they could think of was that they had 'handed in food' before.
It seemed foolish, but behind the foolishness was ignorance, and behind the ignorance was numbness.
The soldiers who went to investigate the situation around the village returned. They found dozens of corpses in a pit not far from the village.
It was not easy to completely incinerate so many corpses in a short period of time. The team did not bring enough fuel, and there were not enough combustible materials nearby. The team commander could only order the corpses to be left in the pit and buried on the spot, along with the three corpses found in the cellar.
After these things were done, Wright went to the commander. "I want to take these people to Cecil — at least to the frontline camp. Someone there can escort them to the south."
Wright couldn't let go of the dozen or so survivors. Their homes had been destroyed, and they had no food or medicine. Furthermore, it was the beginning of summer, and the recovered wasteland wolves and other beasts were roaming the wilderness. Without the protection of the village's fences, houses, and lights, the dozen or so unarmed villagers wouldn't last more than three days in the wilderness. After all, this wasn't Cecil, and the dangers in the wilderness were much greater.
"We have to report in within the stipulated time. This is the military discipline." The commander certainly understood Wright's thoughts, but he had to emphasize the underlying problem. "The civilians are too weak. They don't have the strength to travel in a short period of time. If we take them with us, we will definitely be delayed."
Wright could not refute it, but the squad commander paused for two to three seconds before he continued, "But if you're willing, I can leave a few soldiers for you. I'll bring the medical team to report to the camp first. You guys bring these people and follow behind. This is in line with the rules."
"Okay, I have no problem with that," Wright agreed readily. Then, with a serious face, he said, "Also, I have a suggestion, Captain. I'm afraid there are more than one villages and towns that have been plundered by the nobles and the survivors have hidden or fled. We should report the situation and try our best to find these places and save more people."
"Don't worry." The team commander nodded. "I'll report it."
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