In the village square, people were bustling.
Refugees lined up in several rows, forming a long queue around the square.
They stood in the line, swaying from side to side, craning their necks, looking towards the front of the line every ten seconds or so.
When they saw others, also refugees, joyfully receiving their relief food and then hiding in a corner to devour their bread, their eyes nearly popped out with envy.
Weston and Mavis leisurely followed the refugees to the square, but instead of going up to receive food, they stood aside, quietly observing the team distributing the relief food.
The leader was a young man in his twenties. He had stacked containers to form a high platform, standing in the center of the square, holding a megaphone, and loudly directing the entire food distribution activity.
"Everyone, don't rush, don't snatch, don't make a mess. Line up, we'll distribute one by one!"
"There will be bread, and there will be meat and vegetables. Everyone will get a share!"
The people distributing the relief food were not wearing soldier uniforms, so they didn't seem to be government personnel. However, there were many of them, forty to fifty strong, and each was a burly man or a stout woman.
It was precisely because of such ample manpower that they could control the refugees in this small town and prevent a riot.
These people formed a circle in the center of the square, enclosing a large area and protecting the carts loaded with food in the middle.
Some were responsible for distributing bread, while others set up large pots, tossing in chopped potatoes, green vegetables, carrots, rice, and minced meat to cook randomly.
A rich aroma lingered over the square, wafting around the refugees.
Grumble grumble—
Their noses greedily inhaled the scent of food wafting through the air, their mouths watered incessantly, and their stomachs growled continuously.
If they hadn't seen that there was still relief food left at the front of the line, these refugees would have already rushed over to snatch the food for themselves.
"So many people!"
The newly joined companion, Joey, lJoeyd at the scene in the square and couldn't help but exclaim, then rubbed his stomach, looking embarrassed.
"Smelling this food, even my stomach feels hungry."
"Master, can I also go get something to eat?"
Weston looked up at Joey's physique, his mouth twitching slightly: "Given your size, you could eat at least 20 people's portions, right?"
"Hehehe, master, you underestimate me. I can eat at least 30 people's portions!"
You little rascal, you're useless at everything else, but number one at eating!
"It's a good thing these people came to distribute food. It seems this village should be able to hold out until the government arrives for rescue."
Mavis was in a very good mood.
This kind of scenario, where people with the means help those in need and overcome difficulties together, has always been her favorite.
"Yes, I hope so."
"What's wrong?"
The girl heard the unusual tone in Weston's voice and couldn't help but look over.
Weston frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the young man directing the team on the high platform: "Haven't you noticed, that person is a Wizard!"
"A Wizard?"
Mavis and Joey both looked at the young man.
"That's not strange, is it?"
Joey scratched his head and asked: "After all, they're distributing relief food to refugees. For safety, it's normal to have a Wizard accompany them!"
"What you say makes sense, but..."
"But what?"
Weston didn't answer. Instead, Mavis, after careful observation, finally understood the problem: "That person is using 'confusion and hypnosis' type magic?"
"Exactly!"
Weston nodded: "This kind of magic can make the user's words and actions more convincing, subtly influencing the listener's thoughts to follow his ideas."
"Simply put, it possesses a considerable degree of instigation!"
"If given a harsh social environment and an ordinary tavern, such a person could raise an army in ten minutes!"
One person, engaged in food distribution, while simultaneously possessing the ability to incite with words! How terrifying!
If it had been a few years ago, when the Fiore Kingdom was in civil strife and economic depression, he might have gathered people to form an army, and risen to become a local lord.
Fortunately, the war has ended, and it is a time of recuperation.
The people within the kingdom desire stability, so it's highly unlikely they would follow him to cause another riot.
"Even if, even if he possesses such an ability, it doesn't prove anything, does it?"
Joey pointed: "Look, he's only using this power to maintain order, not doing anything too outrageous!"
"Hmm, I know, that's why I haven't acted."
"Weston, what are you thinking?"
"Let's observe the situation a bit longer. If he truly doesn't do anything strange, it won't be too late for us to leave."
Time passed minute by minute. The refugees not only received bread but also ate hot, fragrant stew, with satisfied smiles on their faces.
But after smiling, they couldn't help but feel a sense of loss.
They knew very well that such charity couldn't happen every day.
They had barely survived today, but it was only delaying the inevitable.
Just then, an elderly refugee tottered towards the young man commanding the relief team.
"This young man, will you come again later?"
The young man shook his head regretfully: "Old grandpa, it's probably very difficult."
"Although our Baron is kind-hearted and willing to spend all his family wealth to distribute food, there are simply too many refugees like you, scattered everywhere. Even if he wants to save people, he is powerless."
"To survive, ultimately, you can only rely on yourselves."
Hearing this answer, the light in the old man's eyes immediately dimmed, and he spoke with sorrow: "We want to rely on ourselves, but this area is truly barren, there's no way out!"
The young man suggested: "If you can't survive here, why don't you leave and go to a larger town nearby?"
"Other towns are too far away, and on the road, we might encounter bandits and magical beasts. Someone like me, old and frail, would probably die on the way before even reaching the destination."
"Moreover, there are too many of us. Even if we reach a place, there's no guarantee that the people there will be willing to accept us."
The biggest difference between towns and villages is that towns have walls and are guarded by soldiers.
If the Lord or Mayor is unwilling to accept refugees and closes the city gates, they simply cannot enter and can only wait outside to die.
The young man sighed upon hearing this: "Alas, it's not easy for you!"
"How about this, what if everyone in the village comes with us?"
The old man instantly brightened, his eyes wide with excitement as he clutched the young man's hand: "You—your Baron, is he willing to take us in?"
The young man's lips curled into a slight smile, a cunning glint in his eyes.
"Of course!"