MoP: Ch. 180

---Third POV---

Messages scattered like snowflakes. A day later, the populace finally realized their rulers had changed.

"Watchers. These mages are minions of the devil."

"No wonder they suddenly attacked the city during peacetime."

"We're finished."

Inside the city, residents shut their doors and windows tight. Peddlers, still carrying more than half their unsold goods, hurried out of the city.

The once bustling streets emptied at an astonishing speed.

Then, before long, people began opening their doors one after another. They emerged holding all kinds of weapons, their expressions wild.

"Fall into the devil's hands and it's death sooner or later. Might as well fight now."

"Atheists... trying to destroy our hope. We can't let them succeed."

"Take back our church. Never surrender."

Shouts converged into a roaring tide. More people poured out of their homes, joining the ranks of resistance. Their voices rose and fell like waves as they charged toward the church where the players had gathered.

"Kill them."

When they pushed through the crowded, filthy streets, turned a corner, and caught sight of the church doors, what they saw first was a group of fully armed players, already waiting.

Hedgehog flexed his wrists.

"Even old folks and kids are here. Guess we're really unpopular."

"Enough chatting," Child reminded them. "Remember Viktor's request. Grab the few who are best at stirring trouble."

"No problem." The response came from multiple players at once.

As soon as they spoke, the players surged forward at an even faster pace, charging straight at the running crowd. They'd been worried yesterday hadn't been exciting enough. The players' physical abilities were far beyond those of ordinary people.

Before the riot could fully spread, it was crushed by overwhelming force. It didn't even last ten minutes. The immense gap in strength shattered their fantasies to pieces.

An old woman who had watched the entire scene through a crack in her window was frozen in terror.

"Nary Town is finished..."

---

Some tried to seek help from outside, but to no avail.

Others began packing their belongings, rushing toward the city gates, trying to disguise themselves as nearby villagers or hunters to slip out. If they couldn't win, couldn't they at least run?

Viktor didn't stop those who wanted to leave the city.

Instead, he led the players to set up huge cauldrons at several city gates and start cooking. Since they didn't know how many people would arrive at night, they needed the entire afternoon to prepare at least five thousand portions of food. They had no time to worry about people who would sooner or later come back anyway.

The first person successfully left the city, then the second, the third. More and more people, entire families in tow, surged toward the gates. There was even a ridiculous scene where so many people gathered that the gate itself became blocked.

"Let me go first."

"Why should you? We were here earlier. Get to the back."

Everyone shoved desperately to get out, while the players cooked behind them and watched the spectacle.

"This is proof of how important queuing is."

"If they hadn't started arguing, three or four people would've gotten through already."

"I can't stand watching this. Kind of want to go help them out."

But the closer the players got, the more nervous the crowd became, and the worse the congestion grew. A horse-drawn cart overturned, its contents spilling into the crowd and blocking more than half of the city gate.

The situation became even more chaotic. Players fell silent, exchanging glances.

Better stick to the quest.

---

Sally finally squeezed her way out of the crowd and gulped down the fresh air outside the city.

At last, the burning pain in her lungs eased somewhat.

"I finally got out."

Tears shimmered in her eyes.

She didn't bother fixing her clothes or hair, which had been crushed into disarray. She hurriedly reached for her luggage, ready to leave, only to find her hands empty.

"Where's my stuff?"

She turned back toward the city gate. The entrance was packed with people pressed on top of one another. There was no way to spot a small bundle in that chaos.

Her heart tightened.

If she went back to look for her luggage, she had no idea when she'd be able to get out again. But if she didn't go back, she would be penniless and very likely die out on the wasteland.

After struggling with the decision for a while, she turned and left without looking back.

She had once worked at the church. Falling into The Watchers' hands wouldn't end any better for her than it would for those nuns. Thinking of the nuns, a trace of sadness flashed through her eyes.

"I wonder where Angie is."

There was deep animosity between the Radiant Church and The Watchers. If Angie had been captured by them, her situation would certainly be dire. She was so kind and gentle.

As Sally imagined what Angie might be facing, her last shred of hesitation finally vanished. She fled desperately toward the outside. However, after only a few steps, she was grabbed and dragged back.

Almost by reflex, she cast the only spell she knew, Verdancy.

Blades of grass quickly sprouted and grew into a vine, binding the other person's legs. The leader of the wastelanders pulled his hand back in surprise.

"Why are you here?" Sally quickly retreated, her gaze wary.

"Someone told us to come here today."

The wasteland leader didn't elaborate. He turned his head toward the congested city gate.

After receiving Viktor's hint yesterday, he had tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. In the end, he made up his mind and brought a few young men from his tribe to take a look. They waited for a long time, but nothing happened. He had even thought that the undead was joking.

He was about to wait a bit longer before taking his people back when he saw that the city gate, which had shown no movement for a long time, had suddenly erupted into chaos. People were being crushed until their heads were bleeding, yet they still struggled to get out, as if some monstrous flood or beast lurked inside the city.

A mocking smile appeared on his face.

With a look, he signaled his subordinate. The man immediately arrived in front of Sally, twisted her arm behind her back, and slammed her to the ground.

Startled and furious, Sally struggled with all her strength.

"Let me go! Do you even know who I am?"

"You're just a pampered girl kept in an ivory tower, whining about how hard life is. You haven't really left this wall much, have you?"

He frivolously patted her cheek.

"The chaos of the wasteland is far more terrifying than the slums you complain about every day."

The subordinate beside him chimed in.

"Don't think your status as a magic apprentice makes you special. We caught several mages just yesterday."

Sally's face went stiff. She watched familiar faces rush past her without hesitation. The despair in her heart spread bit by bit, soaking the clothes on her back with cold sweat.

"Wha... What do you want?"

"Tell us honestly," the leader said. "What did The Watchers do to make you all this afraid?"

---

"Free food handouts? How could there be such a good thing?"

The lieutenant looked unconvinced, his scimitar edging closer to Sally's neck.

"It's the truth! I'm telling the truth!"

Sally's heart pounded at the sight of the rust-covered blade.

"I can swear by the Goddess of Spring!"

Another lieutenant exclaimed in surprise. "She doesn't seem to be lying."

The leader didn't answer right away.

Just as everyone was waiting for his decision, a sharp glint flashed through Sally's eyes. A vine lashed out, yanking the knife-wielding lieutenant to the ground. She turned and bolted into the crowd. In the blink of an eye, she vanished.

"Hey!"

The lieutenant hacked through the vine and scrambled to his feet, about to give chase, when the leader called him back.

"We've got the information. She's useless now."

"You really believe what that girl said?"

The leader's expression didn't change.

"Since we're already here, and we made a big score yesterday, we've got nothing urgent to do. Waiting a bit won't hurt."

Compared to the pampered folk locked in stone cages, the wastelanders felt far less hostility toward The Watchers. He glanced at the corpse pile not far away, swarming with flies and reeking of rot. After all, The Watchers' cruelty existed only in stories. The reality these people lived in was the true land of corpses. Though refugees couldn't enter the city, if they wanted to survive around it, they had to understand the rulers' intentions.

The road to Ironstone City had already been sealed off. If they didn't want to die, their only choice was to throw in their lot with The Watchers.

A worried look crossed the lieutenant's face. "Free food is a bottomless pit. Why would The Watchers ever..."

No effort required. Just show up at a designated place at a specified time, and you'd get food. It was simply unbelievable. Even the Church's centennial festivals restricted attendance by status. There was never such a thing as a free lunch.

Everyone began speculating.

"They've poisoned it to get rid of all the idiots who dream of something for nothing."

"The city's grain has gone bad, and they're just looking for an excuse to dispose of it."

The lieutenant laughed mockingly.

"You really dreaming about freeloading?"

The others burst into laughter in agreement.

"Yeah, since when does food go bad?"

"They couldn't possibly be trying to win us over, right?"

The moment those words were spoken, a wave of laughter erupted from the crowd. Everyone in all of Aeltia knew refugees were a bunch of murderers. They were ungrateful, greedy, violent, and utterly unusable lowlifes.

That possibility was even less likely than The Watchers poisoning them.

It was said purely as a joke.

In the end, it was the leader who cut off the increasingly off-track discussion.

"Enough. Because we can't figure out their purpose, we need someone to stay behind and test the waters. Scimitar, Warhammer, you go back. Leave half the men here."

The lieutenant panicked.

"No. This whole thing reeks of danger. How can you stay behind, boss?"

"That's right. Let me stay." Another lieutenant stepped forward.

"I'll stay too."

One voice after another chimed in, more urgently than the last, until everyone had stepped forward. Looking at those young faces, the leader felt deeply gratified. To have so many people care about him before death, he must not have been a bad leader after all.

That was enough.

With a firm hand, he finalized who would stay and who would leave.

"I've said what I said. I don't want to repeat it a second time. Do you really think I'm going to die at the hands of a bunch of Watchers?"

His thick, coarse eyebrows shot upward as he barked at his men, instantly cowing them into submission. To badmouth The Watchers right in front of their members, their leader truly had the confidence to back it up. Perhaps he had already uncovered something suspicious yesterday. Thinking that, they finally felt at ease.

Not far away, the players stood around eating sweetfruits.

"What are they doing?"

"Looks like they're trash-talking us."

"Oh, the vocabulary's way too simple. The game's profanity system needs more development."

"Yeah."

As for what happened after the refugees turned around and noticed the players' reactions, that was a story for later.

---

In the blink of an eye, the sun set.

At the South Gate, the main gate of the city, people were still packed together shoulder to shoulder. But it wasn't the same group that had fled Nary Town earlier.

Hedgehog pushed a cart with an iron pot out the gate and was nearly scared into dropping his ladle by the crowd, who looked like starving ghosts.

"Damn, there are way more people than we thought."

Child slowly pushed his pot past and poured cold water on the mood.

"That just means they're about to starve to death, not that our reputation is good."

"Doesn't matter how we did it, as long as people showed up," Hedgehog said indifferently. "Otherwise we wouldn't be able to deal with all this food."

To earn contribution points, the players were filled with enthusiasm for cooking. Just the food already prepared amounted to more than five thousand servings.

Pouring it all out would've been far too wasteful.

Bang.

A teeth-grinding noise rang out as something slammed into the rune-etched barrier near the iron pot. A refugee so thin he was nothing but skin and bones pressed his entire face against the barrier, eyes bulging as he stared at the pot, desperately trying to squeeze inside.

Hedgehog met the sight of that face, squashed flat against the barrier, and fell silent for a moment.

"That's a bit extreme."

At that moment, Viktor stepped out from among the players.

"Don't worry about it. Move the pot to the corner and just start."

"Got it. Food distribution's open."

The announcement was synchronized to all players who had accepted the quest, and every city gate quickly got busy.

Players who had learned basic Common Tongue shouted through volume-boosting magical devices.

"Anyone who wants food, line up properly. Anyone cutting in line or fighting gets thrown out. I'll say it again. Line up if you want food. There's enough for everyone, don't waste it."

Once the cauldrons were opened, everyone caught the signal, swarming over like rats scenting cheese, only to be bounced back a meter by the barrier. After the players violently suppressed a few burly men who ignored the loudspeaker and insisted on cutting in line, order was finally restored.

Several long queues began to move at last.

What the players made was black bread and soup with vegetables, using the abundant supplies from Nary Town's warehouses. The granaries were stocked with plenty of rye flour, oats, carrots, and cabbage.

A ragged old woman took the bowl of soup and black bread, then immediately squatted to the side and devoured them.

The moment the bread entered her mouth, an unbelievable light burst into her cloudy eyes.

"This is the softest bread I've ever eaten."

She ate even faster after saying that, stuffing the bread into her mouth. In no time, she'd finished off the baguette-sized loaf, thicker than both her arms put together.

Everyone waiting to see her reaction wore skeptical expressions.

Black bread was hard enough to smash a door lock. How could it possibly be soft?

But the old woman with barely any teeth left had neither the need nor the credibility to lie. The people behind her began to shout impatiently.

"What's the person in front dawdling for? Move it, damn it."