Chapter 17: Hungry Disciple
Refugees dared not resist, and despite their physical condition, they forced themselves to get up from the ground and hastily left.
Anse and others watched coldly, leaning against the wall without moving.
Before long, a middle-aged man wearing a red robe with gold flame patterns, who appeared to be a captain, arrived in the area. After carefully observing Anse for a moment, he didn’t stop and went directly to Land and Zahir.
After bowing to the two paladins to show respect, the middle-aged man began to speak, but his voice was so low that it was inaudible.
Anse focused his spirit on him, and as time passed, relevant information gradually emerged.
【 Flame Fist elite, human, level 4 warrior（ Combat Master）】
‘This is at least a middle to high-ranking official,’ he speculated.
A few minutes later, the middle-aged man turned and left, his expression calm, revealing no emotion.
“What do you mean? We don’t have to go?” Brat whispered.
“It wouldn’t be bad to rest at the fortress,” Finn said with a stiff expression.
Anse stood up, leaning on his staff, a cold smile on his lips: “Heh, the Flame Fist and the Paladins don’t have a good relationship.”
The original owner grew up in the Outer City and often witnessed conflicts between paladins and the Flame Fist, leaving a deep impression on him.
As expected, after a short rest, Land checked the condition of the wounded and, confirming there was no danger to life, waved his hand, signaling everyone to leave.
Brat and the other two looked at Anse simultaneously, surprised that he had guessed correctly again.
The group got up to help. Brat pushed the cart, his expression puzzled: “The Flame Fist are out of their minds. They don’t want such powerful assistance and insist on defending the fortress themselves.”
“I speculate there are three reasons,” Anse mused. “First, they have enough people. I observed when we entered just now; there were guards on every section of the city wall, totaling at least two to three hundred.
Second, they should have elite professionals no weaker than Uncle Land. Third, they have absolute confidence in the defenses of the Flame Fist Fortress…”
“Doesn’t one more person add a bit of combat power?” Brat shook his head.
“If I commanded you to go to your death in battle, would you go?” Anse chuckled.
“I definitely wouldn’t,” Brat shook his head.
“So!” Anse shook his head. “Adventurers are disobedient, and paladins can’t tolerate any impurities. Since that’s the case, why create trouble for yourselves? Driving them away is much cleaner.”
The Flame Fist’s goal is to hold the fortress to the death, unwilling to gamble on any accidents. Putting himself in their shoes, if he were the commander, he would likely do the same.
Brat suddenly understood. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered this, but he hadn’t expected the Flame Fist to have so many reservations at such a critical moment.
The convoy slowly moved out of the fortress passage, and the view immediately opened up.
The South Gate of the fortress had an additional drawbridge compared to the North Gate. As the last person stepped onto the stone slabs of the Dragon Bridge, the sound of a winch came from behind, and the drawbridge slowly lifted, an impassable cliff separating everyone from the roaring river below.
Anse turned his head to look at the high fortress walls and thought, ‘I hope you can hold out. Duergar are not easy to deal with.’
Now that the Upper City has fallen, even if the fortress has plenty of food, it might not last long. Moreover, the Duergar’s main forces haven’t even appeared yet; only slaves have died primarily.
With the help of the calamity, the Duergar, with only tens of thousands of people, occupied Baldur’s Gate, a giant city of hundreds of thousands. How could such immense profit be easily relinquished?
—
Passing the Dragon Bridge leads to the Rivertown District, which is the only Outer City area located on the south bank of the Chongsa River.
It is said that this was not originally a district but a settlement that formed naturally due to the geographical location and commercial environment of the Dragon Bridge. It was only incorporated into the city administration after its scale expanded.
And a district that can only accommodate a few thousand residents is now crowded with tens of thousands of refugees!
As the convoy left the Dragon Bridge, it felt as if there was nowhere to set foot. The roads were indistinguishable, and the area was filled with emaciated people in rags, countless begging or injured.
Anse followed behind the convoy. As soon as they entered the district, a foul stench assaulted his nostrils, almost making him vomit. His gaze swept across the filthy streets littered with excrement and urine, and he couldn’t help but feel disgusted.
Suddenly, the convoy stopped. He looked ahead to see a group of refugees blocking the convoy. In front were the old, weak, women, and children, and behind were the able-bodied men. They were ostensibly begging, but in reality, they wouldn’t let anyone pass without giving them something.
Land’s face darkened. He waved his hand, and several warriors with shields and clubs stepped forward, beginning to push and beat the blockers.
The scene descended into chaos. Some people shouted that the church was beating people, attempting to provoke or morally blackmail them, but the warriors were unmoved and even intensified their blows.
The road was cleared, and the convoy moved again.
Anse nodded slightly. Land had no choice but to do this; if they had given food, the situation would have immediately spiraled out of control.
The paladins were experienced in disaster relief and deeply understood that charity also required boundaries and timing.
After proceeding a few hundred meters, the convoy turned west. Near the riverbank on the west side of the district was a church dedicated to Lothander, the Lord of Dawn. Land planned to stay there.
However, as they traveled, the atmosphere in the convoy became increasingly oppressive. Due to the withdrawal of the Flame Fist, the district lacked public order, and chaos began to breed. They personally witnessed multiple incidents of theft, robbery, and fights, which were deeply disturbing.
Occasionally, they could see a few patrol officers maintaining order, indicating that the Rivertown District’s Hall of Government was still functioning. Additionally, various churches and guilds were voluntarily maintaining order, barely preventing the situation from collapsing.
“How has it gotten like this in just a few days?” Brat gritted his teeth, finding it hard to believe.
“The calamity happened too suddenly, with no food or water…” Anse sighed.
Baldur’s Gate is a Trade Capital. Its own grain production and reserves were insufficient to meet its needs. After the district connected to Greyport collapsed, merchant ships dared not approach, and trade was almost cut off.
The southern trade routes and farms were still intact, with some stored grain. However, lacking control, grain prices had skyrocketed. How many meals could the meager possessions of ordinary people fleeing with them provide?
If nothing unexpected happens, the farms and villages south of the city are also likely overcrowded. As for the wilderness… it is filled with various dangers, and ordinary people probably wouldn’t dare to venture out randomly.
As they approached the church area, the situation improved significantly. Lothander’s church had taken in many of the old and weak, and although crowded, it was not chaotic.
After Land negotiated with the church, he organized the priests to set up tents in the open space on the south side, establishing a temporary camp to house the statue of the god and the wounded.
As soon as they were settled, he and Zahir left with their swords, their faces grim, and no one knew where they were going.
It was just past noon, and no one had eaten. The priests began to distribute food. Seeing this, refugees outside swarmed like madmen, some directly snatching and robbing.
They dared not do this elsewhere, but here it was a church; at most, they would get beaten. Everyone was quite bold.
Brat couldn’t stand it and drew his sword, striking with considerable force. It wouldn’t break bones, but it would definitely cause suffering.
The young priests also picked up clubs to maintain order, and finally prevented these people from overwhelming the church.
Anse stood by the tent where the wounded were being treated, holding his staff. The white light emanating from the staff was exceptionally conspicuous in the dim sky, making the “hungry disciples” hesitate and dare not approach.
These warriors had fought alongside him; he couldn’t let them go without even bread.
The old priest, soft-hearted, had someone bring more ingredients and set up a large pot to prepare porridge for the refugees.
Anse’s brow furrowed. He didn’t quite agree with Berg’s approach. The number of refugees was terrifying, and the church’s meager provisions were far from enough. Temporary benevolence might sow seeds of future trouble.
The calamity had only happened for two or three days, and people could still endure, retaining some reason. But what about tomorrow and the day after? Even with Land and Zahir here, they might not be able to control the situation.
When people are starving, they cease to be human!
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