Chapter 621: After the Battle (Part 3)

"It's over, isn't it? I just wanted to come over and see what kind of shape things ended in," Yamila said softly.

Jier gave a soft huff: "And to see if there was any place to take advantage, right? As you can see, everything here is fine, the enemies are all dead, and all sorts of things have their new owners. You have no chance to intervene."

Yamila naturally saw the situation at this moment; there was no longer an opportunity for her to take advantage, so she waved her hand in a dispirited manner: "What a pity. But I saw those alien Beast warriors occupying the house where the Metal Ingots are stored. What is that about?"

Jier glanced at her and said with a smile: "They lost companions while dealing with the Defeated Soldiers and put in the effort, so I left a portion of the Metal Ingots for them. They accepted it readily, too. Their personalities and ways of doing things feel very similar to someone."

"That 'someone' didn't block your path, conducted a friendly trade with you, and also put in effort. So, could that 'someone' also possess ownership of a portion of the Metal Ingots?" Yamila said with a thick skin; whenever there was profit to be made, she never spared any effort.

As for face, that was for people whose strength and status were inferior to hers. In front of people at her own level, Yamila never put on airs or worried too much about face.

After all, she didn't know about others, but she herself was facing an extremely realistic predicament: she needed money, a large sum of money to repay the Noble who supported her study of Magic.

Unless she could take her whole family and leave the Ophirine Kingdom forever, she had to repay this money due to the power that great Noble held within the Ophirine Kingdom, or, according to the initial agreement, honestly work for the Noble family for several decades after finishing her Magic studies.

Yamila was still young; she didn't want to throw decades of her life into boring Magic consulting services. Although her teacher felt that Yamila would inevitably become a Mage and possess at least two hundred years of life, so spending a few decades of her youth working was nothing, Yamila just wasn't willing.

She wanted to research and tinker with the Magic knowledge she liked; she wanted to be a dazzling Gem at the banquets of high-level figures every night; she wanted to receive respectful gazes from everyone, rather than bowing her head and maintaining respect toward other powerful people.

Even if the position of a Magic consultant to a great Noble was already considered quite high.

"I thought trade was a fair thing? Isn't it? You sold the items in stock, I paid the wealth; it was a trade that both you and I were very satisfied with," Jier said.

Yamila sighed: "You perhaps don't understand. Many times, just the possibility of purchasing is also an important power. Some participation tickets for Magic auctions can sell for quite a lot of money. And for some private gatherings I attend, those small-time characters have to put in a lot of effort just to get a word in with me."

Jier smiled: "Oh, then I spoke so many words with you today and last night, wouldn't that be a huge profit? But I don't feel anything at all."

Hearing Jier's mockery, Yamila huffed. Knowing that entangling with Jier wouldn't yield any benefits, she rolled her eyes and looked at the Mao Mao Warriors squatting on the house guarding the wooden hut: "Tell me, what method are those little things going to use to take away the heavy Metal Ingots?"

Jier saw at a glance what Yamila was planning and shook his head slightly inside. But after all, it didn't have much to do with him. The world was like this: big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimp. Especially in this primitive Forest, all life that had broken free from social constraints acted on the principle that might makes right.

Don't look at how Yamila was talking to him in a friendly manner; that was because Jier's strength had gained Yamila's recognition, or rather, her wariness, which was why this Magic Apprentice hadn't shown her cruel and unreasonable side.

"That is their business. However, I must remind you that these little things are quite vengeful. They might not remember if you are friendly to them, but they will certainly clearly remember whoever offends them and will constantly retaliate. Moreover, although their civilization is backward, they are not stupid. When moving in the Forest, it is best not to offend them," Jier couldn't help but offer a final reminder.

But Yamila had fallen entirely into the eyes of money. Hearing that Jier didn't care about these matters, she just waved her hand and walked toward the Mao Maos.

Jier knew that once he led his people away from here, the entire camp would probably only be left with the Mao Maos and the secretly lurking Yamila.

This was not good news for the Mao Maos. In this Forest, there was no one, no force, whose combat power was greater than the Magic House used by Yamila.

It was estimated that those Mao Maos, currently excited as they guarded the Metal Ingots, would ultimately be unable to keep those things.

"I hope they can let go in time, otherwise these Mao Maos will probably all be finished," Jier muttered and walked away.

Priest Bata'er displayed the 'miracle' of the Agricultural God Church, sending everyone a large pile of plump and nutritious wheat grains. With this magical food, the Villagers, who had eaten meat for a whole day, were finally able to eat unlimited and exceptionally normal food.

The iron pots that the Warriors had used to finish their meat soup were cleaned and refilled with water. Once the water boiled, the cleaned God-Bestowed Wheat Seeds were added.

When the Villagers picked up their bowls one after another to eat this nutritious Wheat Porridge that could fill their stomachs, Priest Bata'er finally breathed a sigh of relief. Although some people no longer believed in the Agricultural God from the bottom of their hearts, fortunately, they did not resist things from the Agricultural God Church.

As long as it wasn't a firm refusal, he believed there was always a way to turn the Faith of these Villagers back. And it wasn't as if there was no good news; during casual conversation while eating, he discovered that besides some people changing their Faith and no longer believing in the Agricultural God and the Agricultural God Church, the Faith of many former pan-believers in the Cunzi had actually become more devout.

Some people believed this trip was a test, a test from the Agricultural God, and they gritted their teeth and persisted until the day they were rescued.

Some drew spiritual support from the stories of Faith the Priest had told before, calmly accepting the various tortures in this incident, and after Jier appeared, confirming that the Agricultural God and the Agricultural God Church had not abandoned them, they gained a strange sense of spiritual satisfaction.

Priest Bata'er didn't quite understand this kind of thing; he himself actually viewed the Changmai Village incident as a tragedy. After all, the Cunzi was destroyed, the Villagers' property losses were quite heavy, and many people had painfully lost their lives.

Could this count as a test? Would it be too cruel?

And to become a believer in the Agricultural God, must one possess a solid spirit tortured by suffering? Would that be too sad?

Because the positions occupied are different, the perception and view of the same event are also different for different people.

Thinking of his hometown, Priest Bata'er, who still didn't know the situation there, felt even more sorrow welling up and remained silent. It had finally ended peacefully on his side, but what about the churches in other places, the Nongshen Believers in other places?

Were they still suffering at this moment? Were they facing a future of anxiety? Was there anyone to help them?

'I hope that on their side, there can also be a young Warrior as capable as Jier to help.'

The Priest drank the hot porridge, putting on a happy look on his face, and recited silently in his heart.

After dark in the evening, because there was no need to live here for a long time, everyone used the wood in the entire camp freely.

Besides the campfire in the camp, many bonfires for lighting were piled up outside the Tents. The Warriors were drowsy, patrolling while constantly adding firewood to these lighting bonfires.

And all the Human corpses that died today had already been loaded into the house where Knight Hate previously lived. The inside and outside of the house were piled full of kindling, and after checking the wind direction, a large fire was lit early to purify the corpses of those damned guys with flames.

The strange body tissue of Knight Hate was also thrown into the flames by Jier, along with the skeleton of the Knight who had turned into a Lizardman. Interestingly, after death, Knight Hate's body did not change back; he died with the body of a Lizardman. It was unknown whether his soul after death counted as Human or Lizardman?

If, after death, the soul slowly returns to the Divine Kingdom of the God of the Dead as the Church of the God of the Dead claims, then should Knight Hate go to the Human one, or the Lizardman one?

And if the close Knight Hate and his Adjutant Piluo could not meet or accompany each other after death, they shouldn't complain about Jier.

That night, Yamila only scouted that there were indeed Metal Ingots in the house while being careful not to be discovered by the Mao Maos, and then left early.

But Jier knew through the secret scouting of the Big Nose that the Magic House had not gone far and was parked just outside the distance where it could not be seen from the south of the camp. If he himself weren't here, Yamila would probably have driven the Magic House over the next moment, forcibly broken into the camp, smashed the roof of the wooden hut storing the Metal Ingots, and then, amidst the desperate and miserable screams of the Mao Maos, snatched away all the Metal Ingots that the Mao Maos were looking forward to.

No need to think, it would definitely be like that. As for the few unlucky Mao Mao Warriors who died in the whole affair, Yamila probably wouldn't care.

Besides these things that were bound to happen, some things that made people silent also occurred in the camp.

Many of the farm women and females among the Villagers refused to stay overnight in the Tents of the Soldiers.

Priest Bata'er didn't understand the reason and even tried to persuade them to rest as soon as possible at the beginning to save energy for tomorrow's departure. Jier looked at those blushing female Villagers, and the farmers standing nearby with their heads bowed in silence—what could these husbands, these fathers, say at this moment?

Priest Bata'er, who didn't understand what had happened, was like a moral conscience that had been lost for a long time, hanging in front of these rescued Villagers at this moment, but it didn't bring them any practical benefits; it was purely like interrogating them at this moment.

The female Villagers were embarrassed to explain much to Priest Bata'er. Many of them had no choice but to do those things before, but now that everyone was rescued, letting them rest overnight in these Soldiers' Tents made many of their faces turn very ugly.

"Just rest for one night, rest quickly. Tomorrow we need to trek nearly ten kilometers from here through the Forest to reach the Forward Yingdi at the edge of the mountain forest," Priest Bata'er persuaded bitterly, using an irrefutable reason.

Everyone understood the Priest's meaning and also understood that one shouldn't feel disgusted about such things at this time.

But many people just couldn't do it. As soon as they entered those Tents, they would think of everything those damned Soldiers had done to them. Humiliation, pain, the threat of death—these things were hard to forget. It was estimated that these experiences would torture some people for a lifetime.

And Priest Bata'er didn't understand any of this.

"That's enough. Everyone perhaps just likes sleeping on the ground. Let the children and the elderly live in the Tents; as for the others, as long as they don't leave the camp, they can sleep wherever they want," Jier stood out to persuade. Priest Bata'er, of course, would not refute Jier's judgment to his face, so he directed the children and the elderly to live in the Tents, while the others slept in the open outside, circling the campfire ring after ring.

Some even moved specifically not far from the wooden house where the corpses were still burning, laughing wildly at the corpses burning in the flames from upwind.

Some people even moved specifically to a spot not far from the wooden huts that were still burning with corpses, and stood upwind, laughing wildly at the bodies burning in the flames.

Until Jier called Priest Bata'er to the side and whispered to him about the situation he had observed earlier, Priest Bata'er felt ashamed for his previous actions.

It was not until Jier called Priest Bata'er aside and whispered to him about the situation he had observed earlier that Priest Bata'er felt ashamed of his recent actions.

"Don't be like this; sadness and shame accomplish nothing. If you have the energy for that, you'd be better off thinking carefully about how to help the villagers move past the aftermath of this disaster. Of course, your troubles don't end there, my good friend. I must remind you, although the villagers all seem the same right now, that is only because they have just been rescued, and everyone's heart is filled with excitement and the emotion of being saved. Once they calm down a little later, hehe, your troubles will have only just begun."

Jier said with a cold sneer.

Bata'er Jiaoshi already had psychological expectations for this: "I know. From the moment I heard what those Defeated Soldiers had done, I knew that defeating them and rescuing the villagers was only the beginning of the aftermath."

"As long as you understand, let me think..."

Jier began to count on his fingers to help the Priest calculate: "Let's start with the obvious: when they were enslaved to mine, a portion of the people banded together, occupied the places with the most Mineral Ore, took the best mining tools, obtained the most food, and ensured that the people within their own group would not starve to death. And what about the other villagers? They had nothing; they could only search for Mineral Ore in scattered groups, dig with old or damaged tools, and obtain rations that could barely fill their stomachs. With the slightest accident, they or their families would go hungry, or even starve to death."

"Haven't you noticed? Among some of the rescued families, there are no elderly people." Jier paused for a moment after saying this.

"In the families that were worse off, the elderly refused to eat and had already starved to death one after another right from the beginning. The elderly who were rescued are basically all from the family groups that took the initiative to band together earlier."

"Next, there are the children. I remember the youngest children, as well as the children from the families with the best relationship with the church, were with you at the time, right?"

Bata'er Jiaoshi nodded; his head had hardly been raised at all, especially after rescuing the villagers.

"As for the half-grown children of the other villagers, they could only be brought here together. Those soldiers didn't care about the numbers; they just threw everyone into the Mine and were done with it. Many children from villager families died in the Mine. The children who survived are either starved until they look like skeletons, or they are the children from those groups that banded together."

Jier sighed: "After this incident, I feel that the villagers have already split into two groups. And they can no longer live in the same Cunzi. Hatred has already been sown; it is just buried in the soil of the Human Mind, waiting to sprout. In the coming years, or even decades, nourished by the passage of time, those saplings named hatred will grow and eventually bear the fruit of revenge."

Bata'er Jiaoshi opened his mouth, but could not say a word.

He could only nod and give a helpless, bitter smile: "Then let's separate the villagers. You're right, they were going to be separated anyway; now it's a case of having to separate them, isn't it?"

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