Berserk: The Prophet

—Southern Baldian—

Green's caravan had been in Baldian for half a month, and many refugees fleeing from the east were also traveling along this road. Even the presence of a dozen or so disguised knights in polished armor could not stop the covetous eyes.

Green frowned, as if the original anime had never mentioned what the lands outside of Judas and Midland were like.

However, it's clear to anyone with eyes to see that Baldwin's current situation isn't much better than Midland's.

"We'll set up camp on the hill ahead. There are too many refugees. We'll continue our journey once this group of refugees has gone some distance."

The caravan slowly moved toward the hill. Just as they were about to reach it, a group of refugees suddenly surrounded them. Their eyes were full of greed, and they held crude weapons in their hands. They shouted for the caravan's supplies, and some of them even started to reach into the tightly wrapped supplies on the wagons.

"Stop! We can give you some food if you want, but if you try to steal it, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

Green's roar echoed around the hill, but the refugees, blinded by hunger, ignored him and their looting intensified.

When one person starts stealing, they are a thief; when ten people start stealing, they are robbers; but when a group of people start stealing, then... this is a life-or-death war!

"Get out of the way immediately, or you will be executed without mercy!!" With Jacob's roar, the knights beside Green quickly drew their swords and protected Green and the caravan in the middle.

A shrill laugh erupted from the refugee crowd. The gaunt man at the head, missing half an ear, brandished a rusty dagger as he approached: "Who do you think you can scare with your bunch of junk? There are so many of us, how could you possibly kill us all? Everyone, attack together! Their carts must have plenty of food!!"

Before he finished speaking, the crowd suddenly surged forward like a tide, and some even threw stones at the horses. The frightened warhorses neighed and reared up, and a group of refugees tore a huge hole in the burlap tarpaulin on the cart.

"Damn it, a bunch of scoundrels, kill them all!!" Grimm roared, flipping down the flap of his helmet and drawing his greatsword from his back, ready to fight.

The knights immediately rushed forward, and the two sides instantly fell into a melee. However, the situation was far too unfavorable for them. There were crowds of people frantically grabbing things everywhere, like a swarm of black rats. The warhorses could barely move, and some people even tried to pull the knights off their horses. However, as former imperial knights of the Kingdom of Pendor, how could they be so easily defeated?

These emaciated refugees were no match for the knights. Several swords fell in a few strokes, and blood splattered everywhere. The black-armored archers had already changed into melee equipment and were hacking and slashing at the starving refugees.

The bloody scene seemed to freeze the air; the refugees' frenzied charge and the knights' valiant resistance created a tragic picture.

Green brandished his greatsword, each swing sending up a spray of blood, yet the refugees surged in like a never-ending tide.

Driven mad by hunger, the famine victims devoured everything in their path like locusts. Knights and elite archers, desperately fighting their way through the chaotic vortex of flesh and blood, were like a steel meat grinder on the battlefield, where iron and blood mingled together!

Just as Green and the others were struggling to hold on, a series of orderly hoofbeats suddenly came from afar. A cavalry unit clad in silver armor galloped towards them, the leading knight standing tall and with a stern face.

He brandished his spear and shouted, "Stop!" The cavalrymen quickly charged into the crowd, separating the refugees from the caravan.

The sight of dozens of elite knights charging together was terrifying, their momentum overwhelming. The refugees scattered in panic, for no one dared to challenge the charging iron hooves.

Grimm, panting heavily, warily watched the suddenly appearing group. The leading knight dismounted and walked up to Grimm, saying, "I am Baron El of the Kingdom of Baldian. These refugees have been driven to desperation by hunger. Please, sir, show them mercy."

Green frowned and said, "We were willing to give them food, but they insisted on taking it by force."

Al sighed and said, "I understand. I will arrange for these refugees to be taken to the resettlement site and given food and shelter." With that, he directed his men to gather the refugees together in an orderly manner.

Watching this scene, Green felt a surge of respect for El; the caravan's crisis was finally temporarily averted.

Looking at the scattered goods, Green sighed. This region of Baldin was truly chaotic; it seemed that relying on his status as a caravan would make travel difficult.

"Hey, judging by the direction you're coming from, you must be from Midland, right? Where in Balden are you going to trade?" El gathered the group of refugees together like cattle and sheep and then handed them over to the knights accompanying him.

Green looked at El, still shaken by the earlier chaos, but still politely replied, "That's right, Your Excellency, we came from Midland. We intended to sell this shipment and head to Minudian, the capital of Baldian, to do some fur and spice business."

"I didn't expect there to be so many refugees along the way, and the situation was constantly changing. It was really difficult."

El nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the scattered goods of the caravan, and said, "The situation in Baldine is currently turbulent. A slave revolt has broken out in Landil to the east, and there are also continuous disasters in various places, which has led to a large number of refugees. Your choice to trade at this time is indeed quite risky."

Green gave a wry smile and sheathed his greatsword: "We are forced by circumstances to make a living. When we are away from home, we only hope to complete the business smoothly and return home safely."

After a moment's thought, El said, "In that case, if you don't mind, I can send someone to escort you for a while within my territory. There are quite a few bandits along the way, and with my men with you, they might be able to keep you safe."

“Thank you for your kindness, Baron, but I need to check on the caravan’s losses first.” Green nodded, waiting for Jacob and the others to finish counting the bloodstained goods.

Several bags of wheat and dried meat were lost, but the salt and some other miscellaneous items could be picked up without affecting sales. In addition, three black-armored archers were injured.

"Carry the wounded soldiers onto the wagons to rest, and let's continue our journey." Green lifted his helmet to let in some fresh air; the fierce battle just now, with its chopping and the effort of preventing himself from falling off his horse, was exhausting enough, and he was covered in sweat.

"Huh? You don't look very old," El exclaimed in surprise, then lifted his helmet to reveal a youthful face that looked no older than fourteen or fifteen.

Looking at El's youthful face, Green was also somewhat surprised: "I didn't expect the Baron to be so young."

El smiled. "Being young doesn't mean I can't do things. Although I am young, it is my responsibility to govern the territory and protect the people."

Green felt even more favorably disposed towards El. "He is truly a promising young man. Thank you very much for your escort, Baron."

"a piece of cake."