Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 507: 508 war refugees

Chapter 507: 508 war refugees

Chapter 507 508. War refugees

Lan En followed his senses and walked towards the mountain. This place was still within the scope of the grove.

The landscape on the island always looks very small.

He first passed by a rather solemn-looking tomb, with strung flowers and a few candles placed on the stone platform in front of the tomb.

Tomb of Ironus

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

Lan En looked at it for a while and then walked away according to his own path.

This is probably the tomb of an ancient hero in Megalith. In civilizations with a long history, such commemorative tombs are always distributed in large numbers and widely.

After passing the Tomb of Tielius, a few steps away you will find the entrance of a cave.

It seems that they really dont have any, or dont know how to cover their traces.

Lan En looked at the messy and numerous footprints on the ground at the entrance of the cave and muttered to himself.

Mentos also added explanation at this time.

From this we can rule out the first and third hypotheses you just established.

The witcher nodded silently, and then walked straight into the cave.

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

This relaxed posture is even comparable to what he had when he was wandering around the city of Megara.

As soon as you enter the cave entrance, the strong "smell of life" hits your face.

Not bandits, nor Athenian soldiers camped in caves.

There is no smell of blood or metal weapons here.

The smell of sweat, body odor that cannot be cleaned off for a long time, and the smell of food mixed with some barley being made into rations.

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

Okay, snap~

Lan En slapped himself on the forehead and said helplessly.

What he saw in front of him was just as one of his many expectationsa group of war refugees.

Old and young, men and women, and a dozen yellow muscles and thin -faced Mogaris gathered in this not deep cave.

Their cheeks were so thin that they were sunken, and the mud and sweat on their bodies had condensed into a layer of black pimples.

It can be seen that they have been hungry for a long time. Even though there is the aroma of barley in the cave, they can still lie weakly on the straw mat on the ground to reduce energy consumption.

Like a group of frightened birds, Lan En's 'pop' sound made the group of people jump up on the spot!

Children and old people hugged each other in fear, and the only few middle-aged people, led by a black woman, walked tremblingly in front of Lan En.

The Mediterranean is the junction of the three continents of Asia, Europe and Africa, and the slave trade is developed, so it is not surprising that any race appears here.

Lan En glanced at them briefly and saw that they were unarmed.

Who are you? Please stay away from us. Please!

Although the black woman took the lead in speaking, pointing her finger outside while facing Lan En, she still didn't seem very courageous.

The witcher crossed his arms and looked down at the group of people with a height that was much taller than everyone present. He was slightly silent.

His steel armor made slight noises under these slight movements.

But when a person is extremely powerful and looks like he can twist off the heads of everyone present in the next second, then a burst of ashes falling on this person will make people tremble.

The slight silence made everyone on the opposite side lose even their remaining courage.

The fear is getting worse. But Lan En grasps the boundary between 'fear' and 'hysteria' very well.

You dont look like murderers.

The witcher spoke, and then the almost solid atmosphere in the cave suddenly relaxed. Or are you being underestimated by the Spartan warriors who are transporting food?

What? No! Wait! Dont!

The leader of the other party, the black woman, had her emotions change many times in a very short period of time.

She was at a loss for a while, and then she seemed to suddenly remember something terrible, and shouted to Lan En like she was pleading.

The initial confusion came from her heart. Her first reaction was that she really didnt feel like she had killed a Spartan.

The ability to control the emotions of the crowd, which is already considered a gift from the gene seed, allows Lan En to keenly capture the information behind the other party's emotional expression in a moment.

The bodies of the Spartans had nothing to do with them, but they took the food.

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

This is indeed a misunderstanding.

After all, few people in the world can just arrive in an area, clearly understand the need for garrisoning troops there with clear purpose and logic, and start taking action.

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

Lan just happens to have both.

Tell me about it and I will listen.

The witcher was still looking down at the crowd with his arms folded. This misunderstanding allowed him to ask questions as a matter of course.

Who are you? What happened to that Spartan transport?

"We are just farmers farming outside the city of Megara. After the war started, we were not even qualified to enter behind the solid walls of Megara. We could only be ravaged by the Spartans and Athenians along with the fields we worked hard to take care of. .

The leading black woman did not cry, because this was already 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.

Those who are still willing to put in the effort to cry at this point are almost dead.

According to her, they have been hungry for a long time, but if they leave the mountains now, they will only become slaves of the Spartans or Athenians.

So they could only live a difficult life in this hill.

They discovered the Spartan grain truck just by accident. Normally, they would not dare to get close to the route taken by these people.

But that day, they could hear a rapid and short scream from a long distance away, as well as the scream of armor being torn apart.

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

That was a man wearing a simple mercenary leather armor and a full-covered metal helmet with complex patterns.

When he pulled the dagger in his hand out of the Spartan's breastplate, the metal made a harsh sound as it rubbed.

He smashed the sturdy wooden cart with his fists, spreading the grain all over the ground.

When this group of refugees passed by, they thought they would be simply killed for witnessing the crime scene.

But the man just looked at them indifferently, and then turned around and left.

But in the end, he stopped as if he suddenly remembered something, and then asked them to come and take away the grain.

"'Come and get it, Megarians, come and get your grain. Athens will not let its allies suffer. From now on, as long as I attack a Spartan grain cart, you can enjoy the food on it.' .The mans name was Ikanos, those were his exact words.

The leading woman slumped her shoulders and spoke weakly.

Lan En listened silently, but asked emphatically at the end.

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

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