As time passed, the towering silhouette of Dolez City grew ever closer. Yet the city no longer held the peace of the past. Thousands of refugees were locked outside its massive gates, their weary figures stretched across the walls by flickering torchlight.
"Let us in! We're not sick!"
"Please, have mercy! Let us in!"
"At least… at least give us food! My child hasn't eaten in two days!"
The refugees, exhausted from their long journey, cried out desperately, but Dolez City answered them with nothing but a sealed gate and cold silence.
Above the walls, soldiers stood with bows drawn, their orders clear—any mob approaching the gate would be shot.
Under the decree of Hutt, Minister of the Interior, Dolez had sealed every entrance. The city would not open its doors.
"What's happening? Why haven't you entered the city yet?"
At that moment, Knight Commander Cascarser arrived, leading the last wave of refugees toward the city walls. By now, nearly twenty thousand people had fled the plague-ridden lands seeking salvation in Dolez.
The moment they saw him—their final hope—the crowd erupted in cries of despair.
"Lord Knight, Minister Hutt refuses to let us in!"
"Yes! And we've run out of food! Our families are starving!"
"Have mercy! Little Loraya is only five years old…"
Hearing their pleas, Cascarser's face darkened. He turned sharply and strode toward the sealed city gate, fury radiating from him like a gathering storm.
Then, gathering his strength, he roared—his voice like thunder striking the walls.
"Hutt! Get out here! I know you're up there! Why are you refusing the refugees entry?!"
Inside the city, far from the cries of the suffering, Minister Hutt lounged lazily in his castle while a showgirl danced before him. When Cascarser's furious shout shook the walls, the nobles around him exchanged amused glances.
A middle-aged noble chuckled, raising his wine goblet.
"Master Hutt, the good knight is waiting. You shouldn't keep him waiting too long."
Another noble, his belly swollen with excess, tore apart a piece of roasted meat and laughed.
"Don't forget to hide that batch of food. These wretched commoners may look poor, but you'd be surprised how much wealth they hide on them."
Hutt cast them a sharp glance but said nothing. Instead, he waved his hand dismissively.
"Hmph. As long as you keep watching that detestable Minohorn Chamber of Commerce, I will handle the rest."
His expression darkened as he slapped a nearby singer, sending her stumbling aside before he rose and strode toward the door.
Cascarser had humiliated him.
The resentment in his heart burned like fire.
To the nobles of Dolez, these refugees could never be allowed inside. They were plague-ridden burdens, mouths that would drain the city's food and wealth.
Housing them… feeding them… protecting them…
The cost would be astronomical.
And if the nobles refused?
They would immediately be branded cruel tyrants, giving the self-righteous adventurers of the Chongshan Camp an excuse to interfere in the name of justice.
No.
These refugees were nothing but trouble.
And trouble belonged outside the walls.
Of course, Cascarser would never accept this.
That knight was too righteous… too naïve.
He would even stand against every noble in Konola City if it meant protecting these wretches.
Standing before the gate, Cascarser's voice turned to steel.
"Hutt! Are you still a loyal minister of the Hyde family?! How can you abandon twenty thousand refugees?! Have you forgotten the ancient creed of the Hyde family?!"
The wind grew colder.
Midnight had arrived.
The refugees shivered beneath the icy night air, their eyes fixed on the dark city walls, waiting for an answer.
Cascarser clenched his fists.
Dolez was their only hope.
Finally—after the three moons had risen high—a shadow appeared atop the wall.
Hutt.
Surrounded by armed guards, he gazed down upon the refugees with an expression that looked grave, though a hint of mocking amusement flickered in his eyes.
With a sigh, he spoke.
"Knight Commander Cascarser, do you think I enjoy this? I care for our people as well. But I must think of the hundreds of thousands inside the city. If even one infected person slips through… everything will be lost. You must understand. This is for the greater good."
He looked every bit the tragic hero, a man carrying unbearable responsibility.
But Cascarser saw through the performance immediately.
He snapped.
"These refugees have already been examined by the city guards! They are healthy! I swear upon my honor as a knight—they carry no plague! Is that not enough?!"
Hutt sighed again and slowly shook his head.
"Lord Knight, it is not that I distrust you… but this matter is too serious. Our lord personally ordered the strictest quarantine. Surely you would not defy his command?"
Cascarser froze.
The lord's decree.
An absolute command.
No matter how deeply he cared for the people… he could not disobey.
Grinding his teeth, he swallowed his anger. When he spoke again, his voice had become almost pleading.
"Then at least provide them with materials to build camps. Linen, food—just enough to keep them alive."
A faint sneer appeared on Hutt's lips.
"Of course, Lord Knight. The noble lords of Dolez would never abandon their people."
Then he turned his back on the starving masses and walked away.
The "aid" from Dolez City arrived soon after.
Only two thousand tattered rags.
The refugees were forced to gather branches and sticks, constructing crude shelters where ten to fifteen people squeezed beneath each miserable covering.
And the food?
Sawdust bread.
Stale. Hard. Almost inedible.
Worse still, the refugees had to pay for it—at a price higher than fine white bread.
When the furious Cascarser confronted the agricultural officer responsible, the man simply shrugged.
"There is no such thing as free bread. If they want to eat, they must pay. That is only fair."
And so, aside from a few kind-hearted priests and fearless adventurers, the people of Dolez watched the suffering refugees with cold indifference, as if they were nothing more than filth beneath their feet.
The refugees could only endure.
Inside their pitiful shelters, they soaked the sawdust bread in water and forced it down one painful bite at a time.
Bilan and Dickey were ordered to remain within the refugee camp. Yet under Cascarser's protection, they were given a thick felt tent and real white bread for dinner.
Bilan curled quietly into Dickey's arms.
Her body felt weaker than ever.
Yet she felt no fear.
Not as long as he was beside her.
Dickey looked out across the camp—at the hollow-eyed refugees clutching their bread like starving rats.
Then he smiled softly and whispered with hope.
"By tomorrow, Dolez will gather enough food. Lord Cascarser will persuade the lord. Soon help will come. These people will find new homes. Things will get better."
But Bilan already understood the truth.
No other territory would accept these refugees.
And Dolez…
It was only a matter of time before the nobles found a way to get rid of them.
Still, she said nothing.
She simply closed her eyes and allowed him to keep believing in hope.