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The conditions inside the city’s walls were somewhat better, but it was questionable whether the refugees living in the shanty towns outside would make it through the winter.
The empire ultimately could not abandon them. In front of a long line, I could see guards distributing something. It seemed rations were being provided to them.
Thud!
—-I said I won’t accept it!
—Grandfather… you might die like this…
Somewhere else in the shantytown, a commotion was happening.
—Do you think I’d accept treatment from those priests who serve the filthy Demon King? I’d rather die! Yes, I should just die!
A priest wearing a dirtied white robe was slowly picking himself up from the ground outside one of the shanties, perhaps having been expelled. He wore a gloomy expression.
People were beginning to reject the Great Gods Ouen and Alse, who had chosen the Demon King as their Champion.
The priests of the Ouen Order had come to provide medical support to the refugees, but the patients were refusing to be treated by them. No priests of Alse were there, since they could not use their Divine Power for healing.
I watched as another priestess of Ouen walked off with her head bowed, looking crestfallen, while the people around her murmured.
There was no need for me to watch this. I had seen enough to understand the reality of the empire. Yet, I found it difficult to leave. It felt like my responsibility to take in all these sights.
Even though merely witnessing these horrific events that resulted from my actions wouldn’t solve anything, it felt like something I had to...
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