In the end, Geralt didn't kill the strong man on horseback.

Of the two of them, Geralt was in a hurry to get out and find someone. And the strong man didn't mean to fight to the end, as if he was just here to test the depth of a normal witcher.

After striking his horse and rushing back and forth for two more rounds, allowing Geralt to chop the blade of the Moon Axe into pieces, he withdrew without hesitation.

When Geralt watched cautiously as the other man rode away, he quickly turned away and ran to Dandrien's side.

At this time, a large part of the refugees who are desperate for survival have already run away.

So the risk of stampede has been reduced.

In the chaos of mass crowds, disasters always come and go quickly.

However, at the peak of the flow of people just a short time, Geralt estimated that at least nearly 100 people were trampled to death and maimed.

"Are you okay? What about you, Ciri? ”

Geralt picked up his sword and asked anxiously to his friend and Destiny's child.

Dandrion dragged Ciri against the edge of a large tree, his face pale.

It wasn't until a few seconds after Geralt finished asking that he suddenly began to gasp for air as if he had come back to life.

"Suck~ cough cough, for the sake of the plague! They almost squeezed me out of my breath just now! ”

But Rao said so, but Ciri, who was dragged by Dandrien, was fine, but seemed a little flustered.

The poet did his best to protect her.

Geralt knew, but their relationship had reached the point where they needed to be thanked. So he didn't say anything.

"Let's get out of here."

The white wolf protected the two people who had no combat power behind him, and at the same time advanced towards the crowd in the distance.

"I don't have to worry about being trampled to death now, but these remaining rebels are enough to kill you both, follow me."

Things are going well.

The Nilfgaard soldiers, who had been left behind as the tide of refugees had gone, watched quietly as Geralt left as he escorted the two men.

But the silence was chilling.

This is not the look of a unit that has been broken down and has lost its organizational strength.

On Geralt's rare encounters with defeated troops, those people would make him feel like a dog overboard.

Embarrassed, with a nervous panic.

The Nilfgaard were like that when their formation was first broken down by Ranne.

But then the massacre of the refugee group, the weak resistance and wailing of the refugees.

Undoubtedly, this has given the Nilfgaard people a renewed sense of confidence and composure.

Yes, the UNHCR has an unexpectedly strong fighter here. But it's only 'one'.

They were just caught off guard this time, and their army was still the world's greatest violence.

They did not have enough numbers and equipment to lead to the defeat of this battle.

Most of the refugees had already taken advantage of the previous wave and rushed through the blockade and came to Ranne's vicinity.

Stewart and Haxel, all the refugees, turned to look at the Nilfgaard who had been scattered among the refugees.

Watch them consciously reorganize into a queue from the scattered defeated army in the afterglow of the setting sun.

Watch as they pick up the Great Rim Banner that Lann had shot off at the beginning and raise it in their hands.

Look at five horseback, commander-like characters, standing in front of the line of Nilfgaards.

The Nilfgaard and the refugee group stared at each other from a distance.

But the refugees who rushed through the blockade did not have the slightest atmosphere of victory, and the Nilfgaard people on the opposite side did not have the slightest bit of the despondency of the losers.

There were even officers there, as if ashamed of their performance in the battle just now.

He pulled off his helmet and threw it on the ground, roaring loudly in the direction of the refugee group!

"Let's go."

Lane watched the scene, his eyes narrowing slightly, and then patted Gerd's shoulder, who was motionless at the Nilfgaard men, and said.

Behind them, there are already many refugees who can't wait to run towards the border, which is still a day away.

They didn't even glance at the corpses that could no longer get up on the road behind them, and their companions, who had fallen to the ground in a wailing and were now being mended by the Nilfgaards.

The sound of horses' hooves sounded from the side of the witchers.

Stewart had a bleeding bandage around his thigh.

He rode over, dismounted before the witcher, and struggled to stand still.

"Thank you for your help, especially you, Master Poldon."

His pale, calm face lifted up to meet Lane's eyes.

"If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have won this battle."

Hacksoll also came from the side.

He looked a little out of breath, thinking that the wave just now was also running over. It's just that even so, he took the time to re-wax his hair just now, so that he wouldn't let himself be disgraced.

"You owe a debt of gratitude not only to us, but also to those who have been lying in the place we have just passed, who have been trained for hours before being forced to take on the battle-hardened Nilfgaard and pay with their lives."

Lan En said in a grim tone.

"But right now, it doesn't seem like there's anyone mourning for them?"

Stewart frowned slightly, and the smile on Haxel's face seemed to never change.

He crooked the steel scepter in his hand and stood in front of his son.

And he took a step towards Lan En.

"You seem to be angry about it, and I understand your feelings, and I admire your virtue. But that's war. If we had to debate, it would be if we went to Oxenford University to find the most senior and prestigious professor, and the debate would not have come to an end until the day he died. ”

Hackso said calmly.

"All the refugees here just think that they have been rescued and that they are not far from a new life. Those who died had nothing to do with them, and those who really couldn't let go of those corpses were probably already lying there with them just now. ”

"That's what it is, and we're not here to debate this with you, but to thank you. Good bye. ”

This is indeed a fact, because in the stampede and the killing of the Nilfgaard rebels, those who will still be dragged and will not let go, and there is a high probability that they will lie together.

The corners of Gerd's mouth twitched angrily, and he stepped forward to walk towards Haxor.

But Lan grabbed him and shook his head.

He is angry now, but at the same time, he can't send this anger to others.

The number of 1,000 people in the refugee regiment has been reduced by nearly 200 after this war. One-fifth of the loss.

But if you think about it, who is to blame for this?

Blame the armed refugees for even being afraid of the rebellious army that Nilfgaard has lost its formation?

But they've only been training for a few hours. They've only had weapons in their lives for a few hours.

Blame Haxel for making everyone rush at the end?

But at that time, the formation was already on the verge of collapse, and it was going to disperse if it didn't shout. He shouted, and instead of letting the frightened refugees run back, he rushed over.

So in the end, there was really no one to blame for the corpses all over the ground in the distance.

(End of chapter)