Lane followed his senses and walked up the hill, still within the confines of the grove.

The view above the island always looks very small.

He first passed by a solemn-looking tomb with strings of flowers and a few candles on a stone platform in front of it.

"Tomb of the Iron Streamers"

The name is engraved on the front of the stone platform in front of the tomb.

Lan looked at it for a moment, then walked away on his own path.

This is probably the tomb of an ancient hero who is native to Megaris, and this kind of memorial tomb has always been distributed in many and wide places in civilizations with a long history.

After passing by the tomb of the Tieliushi, a few steps away is the entrance to the cave.

"It seems that they really don't have any traces at all, or don't know how to hide their traces."

Lan En muttered to himself as he looked at the messy, numerous footprints on the ground at the entrance to the cave.

Mentos also added at this time.

"From this we can rule out the first and third assumptions that you have just established."

The witcher nodded silently, then walked straight into the cavern.

Not only did he not put a [Quinn Law Seal] on himself when he entered, but he didn't even put his hand on the scabbard.

This relaxed posture is even compared to when wandering around the city of Magara.

As soon as you enter the cave, you will be greeted by the strong smell of life.

Not bandits, not Athenian soldiers camped in caves.

There is no smell of blood and metal ordnance here.

The smell of sweat, the smell of body odor that has not been cleaned up for a long time, mixed with the smell of some barley being made into rations.

Thanks to the good hygiene awareness of the ancient Greeks, they did not throw their feces in the hole where they lived, or not far from the hole.

"Okay, smack~"

Lan En slapped himself on the forehead and said helplessly.

In front of him, as he had expected, one of them was a group of war refugees.

Old and young, men and women, a dozen or so yellow-faced and thin-skinned Megarians gathered in this not too deep cavern.

Their cheeks were sunken and sunken, and the dirt and sweat on their bodies had condensed into a layer of blackness.

It can be seen that they have been hungry for a long time, and even though the cave already has the aroma of barley, they can only lie on the straw mats on the ground to reduce their energy consumption.

Like a flock of frightened birds, Lan En's 'snap' made this group of people jump on the spot!

The child and the old man hugged each other in horror, and the few people in the prime of life, led by a black woman, trembled and walked up to Lan En.

The Mediterranean Sea is the border between three continents, Asia, Europe and Africa, and the slave trade is well developed, so it is not surprising that there are any races here.

Lan En glanced at them roughly, and they were unarmed.

"Y-Who are you? Please leave and don't come near us. Please! ”

Although the black woman took the lead in speaking, pointing her face to Lan En and pointing outward, she still didn't seem to have much courage.

The witcher clasped his hands to his chest, and he looked down at the group with a height much taller than everyone present, and was slightly silent.

His steely armor made a slight noise at these slight movements.

But when a person is so strong that it looks like he can screw off the heads of everyone present in the next second. A drop of ash on this person will make people tremble.

The slight silence made everyone on the other side lose even the courage they had left.

Fear is getting worse. But Rann has a good grasp of the line between 'fear' and 'hysteria'.

"You don't look like murderers."

The witcher spoke, and the near-frozen atmosphere in the cavern was suddenly soothed.

"Or did the Spartan warriors who delivered the grain look down on you?"

"What? No! Wait a minute! No! ”

The leader of the other party, the black woman's emotions, took many turns in a very short period of time.

She was dazed for a moment, and then shouted at Lan En as if she had suddenly remembered something terrible.

The initial moment of confusion came from the heart, and her first reaction was that she really didn't think she had killed a Spartan.

From the already talented ability to control the emotions of the crowd in the genetic seed, Lan En keenly captured the information behind the other party's emotional performance in a moment.

The corpses of the Spartans had nothing to do with them, but they took the grain.

And the other party took him for granted as a minion sent by the Spartans to investigate the situation, and was afraid that he would be beheaded if he disagreed.

This is really a misunderstanding.

After all, there are not many people in this world who can just arrive in a region, understand the needs of the army stationed in this place with a clear purpose and logic, and start to put it into action.

This requires a vision beyond the times and education as the foundation.

Lan just happened to have both.

"Tell me about it, I'll listen."

The witcher was still looking down at the crowd with his hands on his chest, and this misunderstanding allowed him to start the questioning as a matter of course.

"Who are you? What happened to that Spartan transporter? ”

"We were only peasants who cultivated the land outside the city of Megara, and after the start of the war, we were not even qualified to enter the solid walls of Megara, and we could only be ravaged by the Spartans and Athenians along with the fields we had worked so hard to take care of."

The black woman in the lead did not cry, because this was the second year of the Peloponnesian War, and the tug-of-war between the two sides had actually been going on for a long time.

At this point, those who are willing to put in the effort to 'cry' are almost dead.

According to her, they had been hungry for a long time, but now they would only become slaves of the Spartans or Athenians when they came out of the mountains.

So they had to live in this hill with difficulty.

They found out that the Spartan grain truck was just an accident, and in normal times, they would not dare to approach the route taken by these people.

But on that day, they could hear a rapid, brief scream from a long distance, and the scream of armor being torn alive.

Driven by hunger, they went to the scene anyway and saw the end of the incident.

It was a man dressed in simple mercenary leather armor and wearing an intricately patterned fully covered metal helmet.

As he pulled the short dagger out of the Spartan's breastplate, the metal made a screeching sound as it rubbed against it.

With a pair of fists, he smashed the sturdy wooden cart, spilling grain on it all over the ground.

When the group of refugees passed, they thought they would simply be killed because they had witnessed the scene of the crime.

But the man just looked at them indifferently, and then turned to leave.

But in the end, he stopped as if he had suddenly remembered something, and asked them to come and get the food.

"'Come and fetch, Megaris, and fetch the food that belongs to you. Athens will not let your allies suffer, and you will be able to enjoy the food on it every time I attack a Spartan grain cart. The man's name was Ikanos, and that's what he said. ”

The woman in the lead slumped her shoulders and said weakly.

Lan listened silently, only to ask an important question at the end.

"Are you sure he was going to leave, but suddenly stopped when he saw you?"

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(End of chapter)