Chapter 144 – Refugee Bandits

Hatred is a flame—just a single spark is enough to ignite all the tinder called “pain.”

Now, the refugees, their hearts filled with pain, have been set ablaze.

“Kill, kill, kill! Kill all the damned nobles!”

A gaunt young man, his eyes bloodshot with rage, raised a scavenged kitchen knife and hacked repeatedly at the corpse of a lavishly dressed noble.

“All this money is mine, all mine!”

Several ragged refugees frantically stripped the dead of their clothes, bundling up large sacks of jewelry and ornaments. They had just fled a noble’s mansion, their ears already dripping with necklaces and strings of beads.

The streets of Doleiz City had lost all their former splendor and elegance! Only corpses and debris littered the ground, while several buildings lay burnt to ashes, their charred wooden splinters crackling in the flames and belching thick smoke.

Just moments ago, an apprentice mage serving a certain unlucky noble family had been torn to shreds by over two hundred refugees. Though he had summoned several starving wolves that mauled over a dozen people to death, an Apprentice Rank practitioner without defensive spells ultimately stood no chance against the onslaught of hundreds of madmen.

Now, no one paid any mind to the mage’s mangled corpse or the refugees killed by the wolves. Everyone, including some original residents of Doleiz City, had transformed into the most vicious of bandits. They fought over ornate cups and necklaces, laughed maniacally while devouring any food they could find, and indiscriminately dragged anyone dressed finely into the streets to be chopped into mincemeat.

Hell—this was true hell!

Dichiduo stared wide-eyed at the scene before him, unable to comprehend how these cackling demons had been pitiful refugees just minutes ago.

“How… how could this happen?”

Dichiduo cried out in disbelief, his fingers clutching Bilan’s hand turning deathly pale.

Bilan was equally stunned by the nightmarish spectacle. Immediately, she thought of her own family.

The Stone Family was even less fortified than this minor noble house—they didn’t even have a stationed practitioner for protection. Bilan dared not imagine how her pampered, helpless “relatives” would face the frenzied refugees.

Lotalan too stood frozen, speechless. She knew that refugees consumed by hatred and despair would listen to no one. So she could only hide behind Dichiduo, silently watching, terrified that someone might recognize her as the once-prominent noble—Lotalan.

“Because desire has lost its restraints, because envy has incinerated humanity, and because of simple herd mentality!” Lotalan understood this deeply.

The unspeakable atrocities did not cease due to Dichiduo’s horror. With no one to restrain them, the madness of these people only intensified.

A burly man dragged three or four children from a side room of the noble mansion—the youngest still just an infant.

With rough hands, he threw the sobbing children onto a bloodstained broken wall, then viciously kicked the infant’s head, making the noble offspring wail even louder before roaring:

“These are the vile nobles’ spawn! Those despicable nobles took my little daughter and many of your loved ones! Now, it’s our turn to make them taste the agony of losing family! Hahahaha!”The strong man let out a sinister laugh as he drew a sharpened wooden stick. He casually grabbed a little boy, then aimed the splinter-covered stick at the child’s wide eyes, his laughter dripping with malice.

“Heh heh heh, I wonder what color a noble’s brains are—I’d really like to see!”

Trembling with fear, the little boy dangled in midair, crying and shouting, “Who… sob… are you people? My father is… is Baron Fitte Ai! …Sob… You can’t kill me! I’ll… I’ll have my father send troops to hang all of you!”

The boy’s words were like poking a hornet’s nest.

Initially, the refugees had felt some hesitation seeing the strongman about to kill a child. But now, hearing the boy spout the very aristocratic arrogance that common folk despised and loathed—especially these refugees who had just been forced by Zweig to sell their own children and loved ones—any remaining compassion vanished. Their eyes burned crimson with rage as they raised their fists and roared:

“Kill him! Nobles are all scum!”

“They’re the ones who sold my sister to slave traders—I’ll crush their bones!”

“Hurry up and do it! Gouge out his dog eyes!”

Encouraged by his “audience,” the towering man licked his lips cruelly, chuckled darkly, and thrust the wooden stick viciously toward the boy’s eyes!

“Stop!”

Just as the stick was an inch from the boy’s pupils, a firm shout rang out. Simultaneously, a small pit suddenly appeared in the ground beneath the man’s feet. Caught off balance while putting all his strength into the thrust, the strongman slipped to the right, and the sharp stick narrowly missed the boy’s head, whistling past his temple.

The one who had shouted was Dichiduo, and Bilan’s timely use of Apprentice Rank alchemy had narrowly saved the boy’s life.

Seeing the fallen man tumble down the broken wall, Dichiduo leaped onto it and quickly shielded the three noble children behind his pristine robe.

“Are you even human? What crime could such young children possibly have committed? What wrong have they done to deserve death? If you blindly vent your anger on the innocent, how are you any different from those nobles?”

Facing all the refugees, Dichiduo roared, his face flushed with fury. He clenched his fists tightly, unleashing his rage and confusion.

“Look at what you’re doing! Don’t you see you’re acting like a band of thieves? Plundering property, killing, setting fires—ask your conscience: is this revenge justified?”Confronted by Dichiduo’s impassioned questioning, some refugees hung their heads in shame, questioning themselves inwardly: What had they become?” Should the flames of revenge truly consume children?

As the agitated crowd gradually quieted, Bilan and Lotalan breathed sighs of relief.

“Perhaps this can awaken at least some people’s conscience and kindness!” Bilan thought naively.

But this world was no chivalric romance. Even the greatest hero could not soothe everyone’s emotions with mere words—especially when terrifying catalysts were at play.As the refugees stared blankly at Dichiduo standing on the broken wall, a middle-aged woman in tattered clothes stumbled out from the cellar of the Noble’s mansion. Her face was streaked with tears and mucus—a woman in her forties weeping uncontrollably:

“Someone please save my daughter! She’s in that dungeon, and so many others are locked in iron cages! Please come quickly and save them! Have mercy, someone! Oh gods, why are you punishing Karia like this? Why?”…

Seeing the distraught woman running out, Dichiduo and Bilan were still confused, but Lotalan’s heart sank with an audible thud.

While others might not know what those perverted Nobles kept in their cellars, Lotalan—who dealt with Nobles daily—knew all too well. Watching a dozen stronger refugees hesitantly enter the pitch-black cellar, Lotalan almost immediately realized: Trouble—big trouble!

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(End of Chapter)