The stench of these refugees can be smelled from afar.
As he spoke, he looked towards Lawrence, who was just beside the porridge shelter.
"This Third Prince is truly weak, caring about these refugees."
"Young master need not worry, being sent here means he's already lost his power."
The young noble couldn't help but nod: "That's true, the Second Prince looks more like a king."
After speaking, the young noble seemed to think of something: "Why didn't those people report last night?"
"They said something unexpected came up; this Prince's actions somewhat affected them."
"What a hassle."
The Saintess was watching her Priests, examining and treating the people in the refugee camp.
"Did you gather any information yesterday?"
Anita slightly nodded beside her.
"We did, indeed someone is spreading some kind of faith within the refugee camp."
"Like?"
"Like the promise of attaining happiness without suffering from illness.
