Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 507 508. War Refugees

Lan En followed his senses and walked towards the mountain. This place was still within the scope of the grove.

The landscape on the island always looks very small.

He first passed by a rather solemn-looking tomb, with strung flowers and a few candles placed on the stone platform in front of the tomb.

"Tomb of the Iron Warriors"

The name is engraved on the front of the stone platform in front of the tomb.

Lan En looked at it for a while and then walked away according to his own path.

This is probably the tomb of an ancient hero in Megaris. In civilizations with a long history, such commemorative tombs are always distributed in large numbers and widely.

After passing the Tomb of Tielius, a few steps away there was the entrance of a cave.

"It seems they really don't have any, or don't know how to cover their tracks."

Lan En looked at the messy and numerous footprints on the ground at the entrance of the cave and muttered to himself.

Mentos also added explanation at this time.

"From this we can rule out the first and third hypotheses you just established."

The witcher nodded silently and walked straight into the cave.

Not only did he not put a [Quen's Seal] on himself when he entered, he didn't even put his hand on the scabbard.

This kind of relaxed posture is even compared to when he was wandering around the city of Megara.

As soon as you enter the cave entrance, the strong 'smell of life' hits your face.

Not bandits, not Athenian soldiers camped in caves.

There is no smell of blood or metal ordnance here.

The smell of sweat, the body odor that cannot be cleaned off the body for a long time, and the smell of food mixed with some barley being made into rations.

Thanks to the pretty good hygiene awareness of the ancient Greeks, they did not throw feces in the cave where they lived, or not far from the cave entrance.

"Okay, snap~"

Lan En slapped himself on the forehead and said helplessly.

What he saw before him was one of his many expectations - a group of war refugees.

Old and young, men and women, a dozen sallow-looking Megaris gathered in this cave that was not too deep.

Their cheeks were so thin that they were sunken, and the dirt and sweat on their bodies had condensed into a layer of black pimples.

It was obvious that they had been hungry for a long time. Even though there was already the aroma of barley in the cave, they could only lie weakly on the straw mat on the ground to reduce energy consumption.

Like a group of frightened birds, Lan En's 'pop' sound made the group of people jump up on the spot!

Children and old people hugged each other in fear. The only few adults, led by a black woman, walked tremblingly in front of Lan En.

The Mediterranean is the junction of the three continents of Asia, Europe and Africa, and the slave trade is developed, so it is not surprising that any race appears here.

Lan En glanced at them briefly. They were unarmed.

"Who are you? Please leave and don't come near us. Please!"

Although the black woman took the lead in speaking, pointing her finger outside while facing Lan En, she still didn't seem very courageous.

The demon hunter crossed his arms and looked down at the group of people with a height that was much taller than everyone present. He was slightly silent.

His steel armor made slight noises under these slight movements.

But when a person is extremely powerful and seems to be able to twist off the heads of everyone present in the next second, then a burst of ashes falling on this person will make people tremble.

The slight silence made everyone on the opposite side lose even their remaining courage.

The fear continued to increase, but Lan En grasped the boundary between 'fear' and 'hysteria' very well.

"You don't look like murderers."

The demon hunter spoke, and then the almost solid atmosphere in the cave suddenly relaxed.

"Or are you saying that the Spartans who transported food underestimated you?"

"What? No! Wait! Don't!"

The leader of the other party, the black woman, had her emotions change many times in a very short period of time.

She was at a loss for a while, and then she seemed to suddenly remember something terrible, and shouted to Lan En like she was pleading.

The confusion at the beginning came from her heart. Her first reaction was that she really didn't feel that she had killed a Spartan.

The ability to control the emotions of the crowd, which was already considered a talent from the gene seed, allowed Lan En to keenly capture the information behind the other party's emotional expression in a moment.

The bodies of the Spartans had nothing to do with them, but they took the food.

And the other party naturally recognized him as a minion sent by the Spartans to investigate the situation, and was very afraid that he would be beheaded if he disagreed.

This is indeed a misunderstanding.

After all, few people in the world can figure out the need for garrisoning troops there with a clear purpose and logic as soon as they arrive in an area, and start taking action.

This requires a vision and education beyond the times as a foundation.

Lan En just happened to have both.

"Tell me about it and I'll listen."

The witcher still looked down at the crowd with his arms folded. This misunderstanding allowed him to ask questions as a matter of course.

"Who are you? What happened to that Spartan transport?"

"We are just farmers farming outside the city of Megara. After the war started, we were not even qualified to enter behind the solid walls of Megara. We could only be ravaged by the Spartans and Athenians along with the fields we worked hard to take care of. .”

The leading black woman did not cry, because this was already the second year of the Peloponnesian War, and the tug-of-war between the two sides had actually been going on for a long time.

Anyone who is still willing to put effort into 'crying' at this point is almost dead.

According to her, they have been hungry for a long time, but if they leave the mountains now, they will only become slaves of the Spartans or Athenians.

So they could only live hard in this hill.

They discovered that the Spartan grain truck was just an accident. Normally, they would not dare to get close to the route taken by these people.

But that day, they could hear a rapid and short scream from a long distance away, as well as the scream of armor being torn apart.

Driven by hunger, they went to the scene and saw the end of the incident.

It was a man wearing a simple mercenary leather armor and a full-covered metal helmet with complex patterns.

When he pulled the short dagger out of the Spartan's breastplate, the metal made a screeching sound as it rubbed.

He smashed the sturdy wooden cart with his fists, causing the grain on it to spill all over the ground.

When the group of refugees passed by, they thought they would be killed outright for witnessing the crime scene.

But the man just looked at them indifferently, and then turned around and left.

But in the end, he stopped as if he suddenly remembered something, and asked them to come and take away the food.

"'Come and get it, Megarians, come and get your grain. Athens will not let its allies suffer. From now on, as long as I attack a Spartan grain cart, you can enjoy the food on it.' .The man’s name was Ikanos, those were his exact words.”

The leading woman slumped her shoulders and spoke weakly.

Lan En listened silently, but asked emphatically at the end.

"Are you sure he 'was about to leave, but suddenly stopped when he saw you'?"

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