Super Magician: The Magic Network Collapsed Again at the Start

Chapter 17 The Hungry Disciple
The refugees dared not resist. Ignoring their physical condition, they struggled to their feet and hurriedly left.

Anser and the others watched coldly, leaning against the wall without moving.

Before long, a middle-aged man dressed in a red robe with a gold flame emblem, who looked like the captain, came to the area. He looked Anser over carefully for a moment, then went straight to Rand and Zahir without stopping.

After bowing to the two paladins to express their respect, the middle-aged man began to talk, but his voice was so low that it was difficult to hear clearly.

Anser focused his attention on him, and as time went on, relevant information gradually emerged.

[Flame Fist Elite, Human, Level 4 Warrior (Combat Master)]

'At the very least, he should be in the middle to upper management,' he thought to himself.

A few minutes later, the middle-aged man turned and left, his face calm and his emotions unreadable.

"What do you mean? We don't have to leave?" Blatt whispered.

“It wouldn’t be bad to rest at the fortress,” Finn said stiffly.

Anser stood up, leaning on his staff, a cold smile playing on his lips: "Heh, Flame Fist and Paladins don't get along well."

The original owner grew up in the outer city and often witnessed clashes between the Holy Warriors and the Flame Fist, leaving a deep impression on him.

Sure enough, after resting for a while, Rand checked the condition of the wounded, confirmed that there was no danger to their lives, and waved his hand to signal everyone to leave.

Blatt and Anser looked at each other at the same time, not expecting that he had guessed correctly again.

Several people got up to help. Blatt pushed the cart, looking puzzled: "Is Flame Fist out of his mind? He doesn't want such a powerful help, and insists on guarding the fortress himself."

“I suspect there are three reasons,” Anser pondered. “First, they have enough people. I observed when we came in that there were guards on every section of the city wall, totaling at least two or three hundred.”

Second, they should have elite professionals no less capable than Uncle Rand. Third, they have absolute confidence in the defenses of Flamefist Fortress…”

"Does having one more person increase our fighting strength?" Blatt shook his head.

"Would you go if I ordered you to your death in battle?" Anser laughed.

“I’m definitely not going,” Blatt shook his head.

“So!” Anser shook his head. “Adventurers are disobedient, and paladins don’t tolerate any dissent. Since that’s the case, why make yourself unhappy? It would be much more peaceful if they were all driven away.”

Flame Fist's goal was to defend the fortress to the death; he dared not gamble on any unexpected events. Putting himself in the commander's shoes, he would probably do the same.

Blatt suddenly realized that he had considered this point, but he hadn't expected Flame Fist to have so many ulterior motives at a time like this.

The convoy slowly left the fortress passage, and the view immediately opened up.

The south gate of the fortress had an extra drawbridge compared to the north gate. As the last person stepped onto the stone path of the Flying Dragon Bridge, the sound of a winch came from behind. The drawbridge slowly rose, and a cliff separated everyone from the outside, with the rumbling river below.

Anser turned to look at the fortress's high walls, thinking to himself, 'I hope you can hold out; the gray dwarves are not easy to deal with.'

Now that the upper city has fallen, even if the fortress has plenty of food, it's uncertain how long it can hold out. Besides, the main force of the gray dwarves hasn't even appeared yet; the main casualties are slaves.

With the help of natural disasters, the Grey Dwarves, with only a few thousand or tens of thousands of people, occupied Baldur's Gate, a megacity with a population of hundreds of thousands. How could they easily give up such enormous profits?
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Crossing the Flying Dragon Bridge leads to the Livington district, which is the only outer suburb located on the south bank of the Chosun River.

It is said that this area was not originally a district, but a settlement that naturally formed due to the geographical location and business environment of Feilong Bridge. It was only after its scale expanded that it was incorporated into the city's management.

The city, which can only accommodate a few thousand residents, is now crowded with at least tens of thousands of refugees!

As the convoy left Feilong Bridge, it felt like there was nowhere to put its feet. The road was nowhere to be seen, and everywhere was filled with starving people who were barely clothed, begging, and injured.

Anser followed behind the convoy. As soon as they entered the city, a wave of stench assaulted his nostrils, almost making him vomit. His eyes swept over the filthy streets littered with excrement and urine, and he couldn't help but feel nauseous. Suddenly, the convoy stopped. He looked ahead and saw a group of refugees blocking the way. In front were the elderly, women, and children, and behind were young adults. They ostensibly begged, but in reality, they wouldn't let anyone leave without giving them money.

With a grim face, Rand waved his hand, and several soldiers stepped forward with shields and batons, beginning to push and beat those blocking the way.

Chaos erupted at the scene, with some shouting that the church was beating people, attempting to provoke or morally blackmail them. However, the fighters remained unmoved and instead intensified their attacks.

With the roads reopened, the convoy started moving again.

Anser nodded slightly. Rand was forced to do this; once the food was given, the situation would immediately spiral out of control.

The paladins are experienced in disaster relief and deeply understand that charity must also be measured and timely.

After traveling several hundred meters, the convoy turned west. Near the riverbank on the west side of the city, there was a church of Losanda, the Lord of Dawn, where Rand planned to settle down.

As they traveled, the atmosphere in the convoy grew increasingly oppressive. With the departure of Flame Fist, the city lacked security and chaos ensued. They witnessed numerous thefts, robberies, and fights, which were shocking.

Occasionally, a few patrol officers could be seen maintaining order, indicating that the Livington District Council was still in place. In addition, various churches and guilds were also spontaneously maintaining order, barely preventing the situation from collapsing.

"How could this happen in just a few days?" Blatt gritted his teeth, somewhat incredulous.

“The disaster happened so suddenly, we had nothing to eat or drink…” Anser sighed.

Baldur's Gate is a trading hub, but its own food production and reserves are insufficient to meet its own needs. After the city connecting to the Grey Harbor collapsed, merchant ships dared not approach, and trade was almost completely cut off.

The southern trade routes and farms still exist, and there is some grain stored, but there is a lack of control, and grain prices have skyrocketed. How many meals can the meager belongings that ordinary people bring with them when they flee be sustained?

If nothing unexpected happens, the farms and villages south of the city are already overcrowded, and as for the wilderness... it is full of dangers, and most people probably wouldn't dare to wander around.

Near the church area, the situation was much better. The church in Los Santos took in many elderly and infirm people, and although it was crowded, it was not chaotic.

After Rand negotiated with the church, he organized the priests to set up tents on the open ground to the south, establishing a temporary camp to house the idols and the wounded.

As soon as they settled in, he and Zahir picked up their swords and went out, their faces cold, and it was unclear where they were going.

It was just past noon, and since no one had eaten, the priests began distributing food. When the refugees outside saw this, they rushed over like madmen, and some even started grabbing it.

They wouldn't dare do that elsewhere, but this is a church; at worst they'd get a beating, so they're all very bold.

Blatt couldn't stand it, so he drew his sword and struck hard. It wasn't enough to break a bone, but it would certainly cause pain.

The young priests also picked up sticks to maintain order, and thankfully prevented these people from destroying the church.

Anser stood in front of the tent where the wounded were being housed, his staff in hand. The white light emanating from the staff was exceptionally conspicuous in the dim light, causing the "Hungry Disciples" to hesitate and not dare to approach.

These soldiers had all fought alongside him; they couldn't possibly go without bread.

The old priest, being kind-hearted, had more ingredients brought in and set up a large pot to cook porridge to help the refugees.

Anser frowned, disagreeing with Berg's approach. The number of refugees was alarming, and the church's meager rations were far from enough. A moment of mercy might sow the seeds of future disaster.

People can still hold on for a couple of days after the disaster, and they're still somewhat rational. But what about tomorrow and the day after? Even if Rand and the other two were here, they might not be able to control the situation then.

When people are starving, they stop being human!

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(End of this chapter)