Chapter 164: Displaced Persons 1
Chapter 164: Displaced Citizen 1
In the village of Kas near the southern border of Arda, the atmosphere today was unusually tense.
On the main road to the south of the village, several barricades made of wooden fences were continuously placed, blocking the road tightly.
Makarov, who had been promoted to sergeant, led a cordon of one hundred militiamen, facing south in a tight formation.
Today was the day of the refugees’ arrival, and the staff had ordered them to form a “welcome” parade here.
However, their welcome was a bit special, many of them were armed with swords, spears and swords, and those who did not have weapons also carried agricultural tools such as pitchforks and iron drafts.
Every one of them had a tense face, as if they were going to fight.
At the entrance of the wooden fence there were several tents set up, with tables and chairs inside, and in each tent sat two people dressed tightly with large masks, who even wore gloves on their hands, revealing just two eyes on their entire bodies.
“When the stragglers arrive all give me some spirit!”
Sergeant Makarov yelled at the militiamen.
“Remember, be serious! Do your best to look as intimidating as possible, make sure they are afraid of you, give them a strong psychological oppression.”
“Never give them the illusion that they are here to enjoy themselves! Is that clear?”
The militia shouted in unison in response to him, “Yes! Sir!”
Susan in the side tent was speechless when she heard this, “Is this necessary? Those outsiders are suffering from war and displacement, shouldn’t we give them the warmth of family?”
She and her teacher, Dr. Wade, along with several other doctors who participated in the “medical training” in Lake Town, were recruited by the government department and sent here to “quarantine” the displaced people.
She was responsible for examining the women in this tent, while her teacher examined the men in another tent.
A militiaman came running down the road from the south.
“Report, Sergeant Makarov!”
He stood and saluted, “The stragglers are here.”
Makarov threw his hands up, “Attention all!”
Soon on the road to the south, a large group of people appeared in sight, that would be the stragglers that the Council of State had received in the south.
As they get closer and closer, the militiamen see the appearance of these stragglers, what kind of people are they, yellow and thin, ragged, more downtrodden than the beggars of the Northwest Bay.
From the group of refugees ran several men on horseback, who galloped up to the barricade and gave Makarov a military salute.
“Sergeant, these men will be in your hands for now; we have to return to Lakewood to resume our duties. This is the first group, 357 men in all.”
Makarov saluted them back, “Don’t worry, we’re in sure to keep a tight rein here.”
These men on horseback were from the Internal Guard Unit, and had traveled south with Hansel this time, responsible for guiding the stragglers to the Northwest Bay, clearing customs in the territories along the way, as well as trying not to let the stragglers starve to death halfway there.
After the handover, they bypassed the roadblocks and continued their journey north.
Makarov ordered the militiamen, “Go and line up the stragglers according to the previous grouping.”
“Yes!”
Half of the militiamen split into five squads and lunged toward the crowd to the south.
As soon as the stragglers saw a large group of people hardly armed with swords, guns, and clubs running towards them, they were instantly alarmed, stopping in their tracks and exchanging words without knowing what to do.
“All listen to me!”
Militia Jos took out the most frightening expression he thought he could muster and yelled at the stragglers, “You all form a column now, and see the entrance to the wooden fence in front of you? When you get there, cross one at a time and go to the tent designated by the sentry, without rushing through or disturbing the formation.”
Perhaps in the eyes of these southern stragglers, Joss’s northwestern accent with his “fierce” look was a bit funny, and a few were not only not shocked, but let out a giggle.
Jos looks depressed, several other militia immediately take out the whip, towards those who laughed to throw over ruthlessly.
“Laugh your ass off! Laugh again and I’ll whip you to death, you foreigner.”
“Aigoo! Forgive me, sir!”
The licked ruffians begged for forgiveness one after another. After the threat of a whip, the stragglers became honest.
However, it was still not easy to get them to line up, and the militia tossed and turned for half a day before they were able to form a column.
The column continued on and came to the front of the roadblock.
The militia guarding the barricade spared six men and herded them into six separate tents.
The stragglers who continued to wait suddenly smelled an appetizing aroma, and following the scent, a large tent on the other side of the roadblock actually had a large pot burning, with steaming steam rising from it, and it looked like something was cooking.
“There is food! There’s food alas!”
“Food! Real food!”
The news quickly traveled backward, and the ranks of the stragglers were instantly in disarray, clamoring in all directions, with many people running from the back to the front of the group.
This scent wafting over was much better than the messy things they had used to fill their stomachs on the road, and the few adults leading them on their journey were only responsible for not letting them starve to death.
“What for? What are you doing? Don’t you know you have to line up?”
The militiamen ran over yelling while swinging their whips at those running amok in an attempt to restore order.
“Lords, do us a favor and give us a bite of food first!”
Jos used his body to block the entrance with his dead body and shouted, “Line up properly, as long as you let the doctor finish checking your bodies, you’ll have food.”
But his voice was quickly drowned out in the clamor of the stragglers.
“My lord, we’ve been eating pig food for almost half a month, no, those things won’t even be eaten by pigs.”
“Yeah, and it’s just a little bit every day, we’re starving to death.”
The stragglers in front of the barricade gathered more and more, and many of them began to try to climb over the barricade.
Seeing that the situation was about to get out of control, Makarov shouted, “All hands! Get ready!”
Fifty militiamen stood by his side, each holding a long wooden stick wrapped in a thick cloth.
The militiamen stood in three neat rows, and on hearing the sergeant’s order, they immediately held the sticks flat in their hands, while those in the second and third rows stretched them out through the gaps between the men in front of them.
Makarov gave the order, “Assault!”
They ran up in small steps, and the sticks in their hands quickly stabbed into the group of stragglers.
Those stragglers near the barricade were caught off guard and were stabbed down in a large swath with a clatter.
For a while, the sounds of crying and shouting were endless.
The militia turned around and pointed their sticks at those remaining stragglers who were already stunned.
“Old …… lords spare your life!”
One of the people at the front flung himself on his knees and begged for mercy.
With one leading the way, the people behind him also knelt down.
Makarov came to stand in front of them, the tall man with both hands behind his back, the muscles in his face tightening.
Unlike the militiamen, the sergeant had personally slaughtered a large number of pirates, and his entire person exuded an aura of solemnity.
He glanced at the unlucky ones still groaning on the ground.
“Within 10 minutes, resume formation! “
“Anyone who was by the barricade just now, line up at the end of the line!”
The sergeant’s terrifying voice hit everyone’s eardrums hard.
(End of chapter)