Wright walked slowly among the collapsed and ruined ruins, and the wind from the south blew through the fields, through the trampled and ruined wheat fields, into the devastated land, and the smell of blood and burning was gone, but with a moist and sweet smell — a sign that a summer rain might soon come.

After the rains, the grass and trees will re-sprout, the ruined fields will grow new shoots, nature will always come back to life faster than humans, and this village, which was set on fire by the rout of the aristocracy, does not know when it will be rebuilt.

The small team wasn't here to clean up the battlefield, Wright and his new comrades were just ordered to go from the Kant area to the Hossman prisoner of war camp to replace the medical staff there, passing by the ruins was a coincidence, the team didn't stay here for long, Wright knew that, but he still wanted to perform a small purification ceremony for the village—and also to fulfill his responsibilities as a priest.

With the permission of the team leader, he made his way to the middle of the ruins of the village, where there was a collapsed longhouse, probably a meeting place for the villagers, the house had been burned, the charred planks and beams were buried among the broken dirt and rubble like a mess of dead branches, and the thin beams that supported the roof pointed to the blue sky like bony grotesque limbs.

And next to the house, there is a well, which has been filled.

Wright found a fairly neat tile from the ruins and placed it next to the well, he poured some water into the tiles, and placed a few small wildflowers next to the tiles, and then he took out a white candle from his bosom, which was only the length of his thumb, and placed it behind the tile to symbolize the holy light.

When he had all this arranged, he rubbed his fingers lightly on top of the candle.

Nothing happened, not even a speck of light.

Silently, Wright withdrew his hand and pulled out the flame starter from his bosom—a small magic device, made of two pieces of copper engraved with fire element runes and a small storage crystal—and he held the flame opener close to the candle and pressed the switch, and the front of the rune copper sheet immediately emitted a red light, igniting the wick.

"May the Light protect you in your path...... No more trapped in the cold and darkness...... Peace be upon your souls...... No more hunger and misery......"

Wright finished the prayer softly, then leaned down to extinguish the candle, but before he could put it away, out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw something familiar lying quietly among the weeds beside the well.

It was an iron badge, the size of a hazelnut, with rings and beams on it, and an iron ring for wearing a belt or silk thread on the edges—a badge of holy light, which hung on the breastplate of a papal knight.

Wright picked up the badge and looked at it silently, representing the emblem of the Church of Light.

He suddenly remembered that the noble coalition had priests, priests, and even papal knights from the plains of the Holy Spirit to support them.

He turned around and looked at the burned longhouse, and in the ruins of the longhouse, he finally faintly sensed the remnants of the magic fluctuations, which were the breath left by the holy light.

The lost emblem of Holy Light was pinched in Wright's hand, twisted and folded up little by little.

At this moment, a very subtle sound suddenly reached the priest's ears, which instantly caught his attention.

It was a short, slight sound, like a twig falling to the ground, and the sound of a light rabbit running through the grass might be more pronounced than that, but Wright noticed the strange noise, and he immediately followed the sound—he searched back and forth many times beside the collapsed and ruined longhouse.

Eventually, he found a cover covered in earth, gravel and charred wood, and an iron ring attached to the cover.

Wright tossed aside several large stones and woods, then grabbed the ring on the lid with one hand and, with a forceful pull, lifted the lid open—in the darkness beneath the lid he saw a dozen pairs of frightened eyes.

"There are survivors here!"

The soldiers soon gathered, and after a dozen heavily armed soldiers appeared, the terrified civilians in the cellar finally had no choice but to come out, and Wright counted beside him, seventeen men, women, and children.

These men, dressed in rags, with yellow faces and thin muscles, were unusually emaciated from the absence of sunlight for many days, and they had probably been hiding in the cellar since the noble soldiers had left, and at this moment they were so weak that they could only stand with great difficulty, and they could only lean against each other and gather in small groups, looking at the strange soldiers in front of them with fearful eyes.

One of the combatants jumped from the open cellar opening, and a moment later the soldier climbed up the ladder: "There are three more down there—already dead, and need help to carry them up." ”

The squad commander ordered the other soldiers to come down and help, and he approached the survivors: "You are from this village? You're all left? ”

The survivors looked at each other with frightened expressions, some shook their heads, some nodded hesitantly, and some simply stood stunned, as if they didn't understand the commander's words at all.

"Go get some food and water first," the commander sighed, turning his head and instructing the people around him, "don't take the jerky, they might choke themselves to death." ”

The food was quickly brought over, but the dozen or so men only watched with wariness and doubt, swallowing their saliva, but none of them dared to step forward, and it was not until the soldiers stuffed the food into their hands that they were sure that it was really for themselves.

As soon as the first man put the food in his mouth, the others immediately devoured it—and Wright could feel that as the food entered his stomach, the men were finally less wary of the soldiers in front of them.

Although they are still nervous.

"You're from this village?" After the men had regained some strength, Wright walked among them and asked in as gentle a tone as possible, "You've been hiding in the cellar?" Are there any other cellars in the village? ”

Several villagers looked at Wright's burly figure with some fear, but finally one of them spoke: "We are...... No one else......"

Then the man who spoke pointed to the cellar behind him, and then to the people around him: "That's all we have." ”

"We are Gawain?? Duke Cecil's army," said the squad commander beside him, "fear not, you're safe. ”

However, the villagers did not react to the squad commander's words as if they did not understand, and looked in fear at the molten swords worn by the soldiers.

"Cecil's army is different from other armies, we don't steal food," the squad commander certainly knew what the villagers were afraid of, "who burned down the village?" Knight of the Viscount of Consco? The people of Viscount Carroll? Or is it some other aristocrat? ”

The villagers couldn't help but tremble when they heard these names, but none of them 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 after opening their mouths here, but after a few seconds, a crisp voice recklessly spoke: "It's a knight in a white robe......

It was a child who spoke, judging by the sound of a girl, but as soon as she was halfway through speaking, the adult next to her quickly covered the child's mouth, so that the rest of her words could only turn into a muffled whine.

Wright crouched down in front of the child, and waved the adult next to him to get out of the way, and he looked into the child's eyes—they were extraordinarily bright eyes, although the little girl was not beautiful at all, and there were even large freckles on her rough, dry skin, and a quarter of her face was covered by the dry and messy hair like weeds, but the large eyes peeking out from behind the messy hair were particularly impressive.

Wright looked into those eyes and asked word by word, "Knights in white robes—are they knights of the Church?" ”

The little girl shook her head stunned at first, then nodded hesitantly: "I don't know...... But they still have pastors around them......"

Finally, one of the survivors couldn't hold back and sobbed in a low voice: "We handed over the food...... ...... all handed over the grain"

Wright knew what this seemingly endless remark meant.

They handed over the food - when the aristocratic alliance army went out to fight, presumably the commoners in every territory donated food and property for this purpose, and the nobles would collect these things on the grounds that "we sent troops to protect you", and many civilians would easily believe these statements (because even if they didn't believe it, it was meaningless, the right to speak was in the hands of the lord), I am afraid that until the noble soldiers who had been defeated from the front came to loot the village and set fire to the houses, they would not understand what was going on.

Even now, when they saw the Cecil people appear in front of them, few of them would think that these "strangers" in front of them were the people who had fought with the lord before, or even if they did, 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, knights, and soldiers, and above this, they could not understand the more complex interests relationship.

The only thing they can think of is that they "handed over the grain" before.

It seems to be ignorant, but behind the ignorance is ignorance, and behind the ignorance is numbness.

Soldiers who had gone to investigate the situation around the village had returned, and they found dozens of bodies in an earthen pit not far from the village.

It was not easy for such a large number of corpses to be completely incinerated in a short period of time, the team did not carry enough fuel and could not find enough combustibles nearby, so the squad commander had to order the corpses to be left in the pit and buried on the spot - along with the three bodies found in the cellar.

When these things were done, Wright approached the commander: "I want to take the dozen men to Cecil—at least to the front camp, where someone can escort them to the south." ”

Wright couldn't let go of the dozen survivors - their homes had been destroyed, there was no food or medicine, and it was the beginning of summer, and the rejuvenated steppenwolf and other beasts of prey were roaming the wilderness, without the protection of village fences and houses and lights, a dozen unarmed villagers might not survive more than three days in the wilderness, this was not Cecil after all, and the danger in the wilderness was great.

"We have to report within the allotted time, this is the discipline of the army," the commander certainly understood Wright's thoughts, but he had to emphasize the implicit problem, "those civilians are too weak to have the strength to rush in a short time, take them with us, we will definitely delay." ”

Wright couldn't argue, but after a pause of two or three seconds, the squad commander continued, "But if you want, I can leave you a few soldiers, and I'll report to the camp with the medical team first, and you will follow with these men - it's disciplined." ”

"Well, I'm fine," Wright agreed very happily, and then said with a serious face, "I have another suggestion, captain—there is probably more than one village like this that has been plundered by the rout of the nobles, and the survivors have gone into hiding or escaped, we should report the situation, and then try to find these places and save as many people as possible." ”

"Don't worry," the squad commander nodded, "I'll report it." ”

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