The camp was a hive of activity.
The women crushed the white biscuits, piled them into pots, and then added fresh water, sea salt, and a small amount of a strange red potion, eventually producing a hot and sour thick soup.
There were many points for food distribution.
The charcoal fires for boiling the thick soup burned constantly, as there were too many hungry refugees; the old hunter and his group were just one of many.
"Line up! Everyone gets their share! Listen, no causing trouble here!"
Several militia wielding iron swords kept a close eye on the crowd, striving to maintain order.
The old hunter looked at the young man leading the group: "Sir, what should we do now?"
"Hurry up and get in line, meals are free for the first two days, during which you can set up camp on the ground we designate for you."
The young militia member explained with a smile, "But after two days, you'll need to find work yourselves, as Seagull Town doesn't welcome freeloaders."
