Chapter 507 508. War Refugees
Lan En walked towards the mountain according to his senses. 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 strings of flowers and a few candles placed on the stone platform in front of the tomb.
"Tomb of Tielius"
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 Megaris. In civilizations with a long history, such commemorative tombs are always distributed in large numbers and widely.
After passing the Tomb of Tielius, we walked a few steps to the entrance of a cave.
“It seems that they really don’t have any, or don’t 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 kind of relaxed posture is even compared to 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, not Athenian soldiers camped in caves.
There is no smell of blood or metal ordnance here.
The smell of sweat, body odor that cannot be cleaned off the body 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 before him was one of his many expectations - a group of war refugees.
A dozen or so Megaris people, old and young, men and women, with sallow faces and skinny muscles, gathered in this cave that was not too deep.
Their cheeks were so thin that they were sunken, and the dirt and sweat on their bodies had condensed into a layer of black pimples.
It was obvious that they had been hungry for a long time. Even though there was already the aroma of barley in the cave, they could only 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. The only few middle-aged people, led by a black woman, walked tremblingly in front of Lan En.
The Mediterranean Sea 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. They were unarmed.
"You, who are you? Please leave and don't come near us. Please!"
Although the black woman took the lead in speaking, she faced Lan En and pointed outside with her hand. , but she still seems to be less courageous.
The witcher crossed his arms and looked down at the group of people with a height that was much taller than everyone present, slightly silent.
His steel armor made slight noises under these slight movements.
But when a person is extremely powerful and seems to be able to 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 don't look like murderers."
The demon hunter spoke, and then the almost solid atmosphere in the cave suddenly relaxed. "Or are you saying that those Spartan warriors who transported food underestimated you?"
"What? No! Wait! Don't!"
The leader of the other party, the black woman's emotions changed 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 as if she was begging.
The confusion at the beginning came from her heart. Her first reaction was that she really didn’t feel that she had killed a Spartan.
The ability to control the emotions of the crowd, which was already considered a talent from the gene seed, allowed 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 this world can figure out the need to station troops there with clear purpose and logic as soon as they arrive in an area, and start taking action.
This requires a vision and education beyond the times as a foundation.
Lan En just happens to have both.
"Tell me about it, I will listen."
The witcher still looked down at the crowd with his arms crossed. 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.
Anyone who is still willing to put effort into crying at this moment is almost dead.
According to her, they have been hungry for a long time, but if they go out from the mountains now, they will only become slaves of the Spartans or Athenians.
So they could only live hard in this hill.
They discovered that the Spartan grain truck was just an 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.
It was a man wearing a simple mercenary leather armor and a full-covered metal helmet with complex patterns.
When he pulled the short dagger out of the Spartan's breastplate, the metal made a screeching sound as it rubbed against it.
He smashed the sturdy wooden cart with his fists, causing the food on it to spill 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 asked them to come and take away the food.
“'Come and get it, Megarians, come and get your grain. Athens will not let its allies suffer. From now on, you can enjoy it as long as I attack a Spartan grain truck. That food. '.The man's name was Ikanos,' his 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 suddenly stopped when he saw you’?”
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(End of this chapter)