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Chapter 590: 593. Black Cloud

Lann walked out of the tent.

The decisions Hacksaw was making now left him unable to discern whether this guy genuinely wanted to save the refugees or if he was planning to lead them into a breakout battle impressive enough to make himself famous. The casualties from these two choices could not be compared on the sa day.

Lann felt that Hacksaw’s mind might already be troubled.

But he had one thing right.

Lann was not a god.

Yes, he had long possessed the strength to eliminate hundreds in a complex building environnt.

However, this was a battlefield, not an isolated manor. His primary goal was not to kill but to lead people out of danger.

Being able to kill was a kind of power. But it was not a panacea.

If everything in this world could be resolved through killing, then the tyrannies established by tyrants should be the most enduring.

When Lann erged from the tent, the entire refugee camp suddenly seed alive, unlike the previous days when they had been on the march.

Even if the people beside them died silently, they still walked forward numbly.

People began distributing makeshift weapons and armor that had been collected along the way.

Those distributing the weapons shouted loudly to the confused refugees as they stuffed the weapons into their hands.

’Charge through the manor ahead, only a day’s march left!’ ’We’re almost at Brugge!’

Such words, each ti they were shouted, would evoke a cheer from the people.

The chance to be free from suffering lay before them, causing all the long-tornted refugees to forget everything instantly.

They picked up those weapons they had never even touched before, crying tears of joy and embracing each other.

And Lann walked calmly past these people.

This wasn’t courage, nor did these people have the resolve to fight desperately for the chance of survival.

Lann thought.

They were just temporarily overwheld with joy.

When they calm down and feel the sensation of their weapon against flesh, their clouded minds will clear.

Then, it will be fear.

"What the hell is going on?"

Dandelion hurriedly approached and asked anxiously when he saw Lann returning.

"Hacksaw is distributing weapons to the refugees. What is he thinking? Letting these people, who’ve only ever used sickles and hamrs, fight professional soldiers?!"

Lann nodded, indicating that he was right.

He turned his head and saw Ged and Geralt calmly maintaining their longswords.

"I told you earlier, Dandelion," Geralt said without looking up.

"To leave the battlefield, we have to cross the border and face at least one unavoidable tough battle."

"Fighting is not like poetry, with so many beautiful coincidences and opportunities."

The poet covered his face, breathing rapidly, his body convulsing.

"Oh, what to do? I’m so nervous I could vomit."

Geralt motioned to Lann to ignore it: "Dandelion has had this issue ever since seeing a battlefield outside Sintra City. It’s nothing serious."

"But it’s not him I’m worried about." Lann just walked past the poet sitting on the ground, not stopping, and instead went to the two Demon Hunters.

He looked down at the two friends who seed to be attentively maintaining their longswords.

"Your heartbeats are faster than usual... it seems you know what we will face next?"

Under Lann’s questioning, Ged and Geralt first paused their hands, then resignedly released the cloth they were using to wipe the swords.

"Yes, we know."

Ged said with his head down.

"We know these people will step onto the battlefield after their excitent. And then die on the battlefield. The more excited they are now, the more fearful they will be then... even resentful."

"They will wonder: why didn’t you leaders, the people in charge, just go a little further around? Why must we, civilians, refugees, battle the Niflgaard soldiers?"

"By then, they will forget the cheers and laughter they are making now, forget their loud approval of this decision. They will forget they once supported this decision."

Lann caught onto sothing, crossing his arms and tentatively asking, "Has soone co to find you just now?"

"Soone, a lot of people."

Geralt calmly said as he sheathed the longsword.

"The refugees we helped ca to thank us, with a feeling of impending salvation, but..."

But, when they realize that they must climb over a mountain of blades before being saved?

Geralt didn’t continue.

The human heart can change, gratitude one mont may turn into bla and resentnt the next.

Therefore, Ged and Geralt were not happy about it at all. They had seen many such people.

There wasn’t much ti left to prepare people.

In fact, the uncontrollable commotion from the mont of distributing weapons was a death summons.

Even if a thousand people each whispered, the combined sound would be very loud.

To boost morale, it was necessary to stir up the refugees’ emotions during the weapon distribution, making them forget their fears and pick up weapons.

When deciding to charge at that temporary military station, the countdown had already begun.

After discarding their burdens and deciding to risk everything, people simply had a big al. Then, harsh scolding sounds were heard from outside.

Those were so of the more experienced soldiers in the refugee group conducting so imdiate training for the refugees.

At this point, all concealnt efforts were abandoned.

Responsible for training refugees next to the Demon Hunters’ tent was a Chain Armor rcenary, seemingly previously serving in the northern regular army.

"Your crappy mission is to follow orders! Keep formation!"

"We’ll break out close to dusk. Why choose this ti? Because we want a few more of you useless ones to survive!"

"If we break through, it’s just dark, we can then keep on alert and charge through the night. It’s just a step away from the border! As to why not sneak past in the dark?"

The Chain Armor rcenary tilted his head and spat.

"Who do you think you are, so elite force that dares to fight at night? Still dares to conduct secret operations at night? By then, four-fifths will get lost or separated! As for the fate of refugees getting lost on this land, I don’t need to spell it out, do I?"

"Also, night combat is a battle of who sucks more, do you think Niflgaard people will suck worse than you? In the dayti, you might get lucky and kill a Niflgaard person, at night... ha ha!"

He laughed viciously.

While punching and kicking the refugees, he imparted so basic battlefield knowledge colorfully.

Such as ’shield is more important than sword’, ’never break formation’...

Under his intimidating yelling, the refugees’ recent excitent began to wane.

The relief of being just a step away from salvation was replaced by unease and panic.

Suddenly waking up from the clamoring state, they started to think they should quiet down a bit.

But they soon discovered that the entire camp was already in chaos.

Wanting to be quiet was too late.

The battle was imminent.

This thought simultaneously flashed across everyone’s mind.

Subsequently, this thought, like a dark cloud, weighed on everyone’s heart.

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