Berserk: The Prophet

.........

[This stay in the continent of Pendor lasted 10 hours, consuming 100 points of mental energy. My stats are 203/330. Reconnecting to the Blade of the Wind world...]

A new day begins with training. Although it is wartime, training can be delayed in winter. Apart from swimming, other activities must continue. The good news is that Baziso has been upgraded. As his loyal henchman, he is now a full-strength type. In terms of pure strength, Baziso is now two points stronger than him.

There was nothing much to do around two or three o'clock in the afternoon. To avoid unnecessary trouble, Green decided to go out and find a blacksmith to refurbish the rusty chainmail in his space. After all, its defensive effect was still quite considerable, even better than his current fish scale armor.

Besides the horse ranch, the third wall of the fortress also served as the military equipment area of ​​Orl Fortress. Blacksmith shops were lined up in clusters at the foot of the wall to facilitate the repair and replacement of weapons for the soldiers.

All the blacksmith shops here have the same prices. Green walked into a blacksmith shop that didn't seem to have much stock and threw the package on the table.

The boss wiped his hands, which were blackened from blacksmithing, with a towel from his shoulder. He had just put the red-hot sword into cold water to cool it down.

What needs fixing?

“A rusty chainmail, see if you can refurbish it.” Green opened the gray package, revealing a 15-kilogram black studded chainmail coat to the blacksmith.

The blacksmith took out the armor and examined it. It was a decent set of chainmail, covered with hard leather.

"Sixteen silver coins, that's the lowest I can offer!"

"Can you lower the price a bit more?" [Persuasion Level 2, Transaction Level 2]

"15 silver coins, or you can find someone else."

“No problem!” Green easily counted out 15 silver coins from his wallet. This was much cheaper than in Pand, less than the price of a single gold coin.

"Hmm...not bad. Come back in half a month to pick it up. I have quite a few customers ahead of me in line." The blacksmith shop owner hung Grimm's studded chainmail on a rack of equipment waiting to be repaired.

After dealing with this matter, Green decided to take a stroll in the city. Just outside the castle, the city was crowded with refugees. The refugees, stretching as far as the eye could see, were queuing up for a meager bowl of rye porridge. There were occasional disturbances and stampedes, and there were mothers kneeling and begging the soldiers distributing porridge to give them an extra portion for their children.

"Please, give me some more. My baby will starve if I don't have enough breast milk."

"What do I care if your child lives or dies? Get lost, there are other pigs waiting to be eaten!"

"Hahahahaha..."

All they got in return was being kicked aside by soldiers, pushed aside by the refugees behind them, and being mocked mercilessly.

When the wheels of war, disease, and hunger crush the mind and body, people always think about how to transfer their suffering onto their fellow human beings. It is not entirely for self-preservation, but more often a form of entertainment created to inflict fear and cruelty.

They only feel pleasure and secret smugness when they see others suffering more than they do, thus satisfying their intense vanity.

Not every refugee has a bowl. In order to get a bite to eat, they will do anything: dog bowls, potted plants covered in soil, chamber pots from other people's homes. Who knows where they came from?

These people were probably the thieves, because ever since these refugees arrived, I've heard that the city's security is very bad. Some families have been robbed, which is considered good, but some families have had their children stolen, and people have died in the ensuing conflicts.

I heard that the meeting above decided to drive them out of the city, and the tents outside the city are almost set up, just waiting for Lord Laban to give the order.

Many refugee women were unable to hold a bowl or basin, and had to bite their lips and use their hands to catch the scalding black porridge. Having learned from past experiences, they would not beg the soldiers who distributed porridge unless they were forced to a certain extent.

The cries of women, screams of agony, and shouts of anger and pleas for mercy filled the air. Many of the refugee men, in their desperate struggle for survival, brutally squeezed into lines meant for only women. Those with men in their families fared somewhat better, though some who cut in line were dragged out and beaten. But the soldiers' manpower was always limited, and some would inevitably try to break the rules and squeeze in amidst the chaos. The women, fearing retaliation, dared not speak out, for such chaos was commonplace.

Poor thing, how can one word describe how miserable it is?

Although he showed no mercy when killing enemies, the scene still made Green's eyelids bulge. Under the severe test of survival, the glory of humanity seemed so insignificant.

Green suddenly regretted coming out. The situation outside was even more miserable than when he first entered the city. People... no, they could no longer be thought of or viewed from a human perspective. They were just a group of hungry beasts who would do anything for a bite to eat.

They all revealed their most primal bestiality. No... perhaps what was manifested in those people was far more evil and complex than the original sin itself. Pure bestiality, at least, would not tear apart its own kind for food... It was hunger, it was desire, it was greed, and even more so, it was sin. The scene before them was like a huge black vortex that made them feel desperate, as if they were in an abyss of countless negative emotions.

Green stopped in his tracks, his dark eyes deeply etched with the evil of the place, a dark will that would never be written into human history. Those strong and burly soldiers were tearing at those helpless girls in the snow for their amusement; their expressions were nothing more than numbness, despair, and... begging for food.

Their nature to depend on the strong makes them submissive, and no one cares whether they want to or not, because weakness is the original sin.

The porridge distribution was relatively peaceful, but a woman who looked erratic stared blankly at the crowd scrambling for food. She was gently rocking the baby in her arms and occasionally looking down and chuckling foolishly.

Green sighed, which reminded him of his and Gus's foster mother, Sis. Green walked over and squatted down beside her. The baby in her arms had long been frozen, his little face turning purple and stiff, and his little head was skin and bones. It seemed that he had not survived.

"Wow! Ahhhhh!"

The woman belatedly realized what was happening and moved away from Green with her child in her arms, watching him warily while constantly making soothing gestures towards the baby.

"Sigh..." Green got up and left with a touch of sadness.

"Don't come out unless necessary, stay inside the castle." The commotion also attracted the attention of the soldiers guarding the soup kitchen. One of them, who could see the insignia on Green's shoulder, gave Green a hostile look and warned him.

They didn't want those in power to know about these sordid things that happened among the lower classes, even though they considered these things commonplace and normal.

"Oh, I see."

Green started walking back. It was indeed unsafe to wander around in such a chaotic city. Out of Green's sight, many male refugees were already staring at him, a seemingly well-nourished child, with drooling eyes that looked like those of a normal person. The greatsword on his back looked very valuable, but he wondered how much food it could be exchanged for.

The woman who had just been kicked away by the guard was squatting in the corner of the wall, crying while holding her baby. The baby was crying incessantly because of hunger, but was obviously too weak, and even the cries were intermittent and hoarse.

Women huddle together like sheep to protect themselves, just for peace of mind. This is of no use to tough guys, even a lone wolf can easily kill one of them to get what it wants.