The tricycle convoy ca to a sudden halt, causing the Holy Legion cavalry riding behind to look up in surprise. Usually, the undead would stop periodically to clear out monsters, but this ti, the Holy Legion troops hadn't sensed anything near.
The undead's reactions were also different from before. So of them remained stationary, while others chattered and rushed to the back of the convoy, where they spread out and laid a tent canvas on the ground before gently lifting a civilian who was sitting in the cargo cart of one of the tricycles.
"Did sothing happen?" Andres muttered, and he instinctively urged his horse forward a few steps.
The Holy Legion cavalry were slightly separated by a distance of about thirty ters or so. From this distance, Andres, on horseback, could clearly see that the civilian that was lifted down by the undead seed to be in a bad state. Her eyes were tightly shut, her limbs limp, and even after being laid flat on the tent cloth, she remained motionless.
Andres vaguely understood what was happening and couldn't help but sigh silently.
As a holy knight who had lived for over a hundred years, he wasn't that foolish to think that the undead were spreading a disease. He knew very well that common folk had fragile bodies, and leaving the familiar settlent environnt to enter the wilderness, even just traveling, could be dangerous for them.
Temperature changes between day and night, a seemingly insignificant mosquito bite, or even a light rain and a gust of wind could cost a commoner their life.
That's why common folk feared words like "migration" or "relocation." Unless they couldn't survive and had no choice, few were willing to leave their holand.
This was the reason Andres had sighed. He was well aware that these civilians had left Camore and been in the Taranthan wilderness for over a week already, yet they were only encountering casualties now. This was because the black mage had been generous enough to provide ample food and resources for these elderly and weak civilians.
Even during the cotton-picking season at the plantations, the overseers were only willing to provide fat-laden food for the cotton pickers and nobody else… Andres knew this fact as well.
He also knew that many cotton pickers would try to bring their family mbers to the plantations to enjoy the sumptuous als during the cotton-picking season…
From any perspective, he had no grounds to criticize Lord Yang's treatnt of these commoners.
While filled with mixed sentints and unsure of what he truly felt, Andres saw two undead kneeling beside the unconscious civilian as if attentively examining the civilian's condition.
As Andres was wondering what the undead were up to, he noticed that… one of the undead was loosening the civilian's tightly bound belt and clothes. Then, they used stones and other objects to elevate the civilian's feet before one put both palms on the civilian's chest and pressed down continuously.
Andres: "??"
Another undead creature opened its jaw as if drawing a deep breath(??), then leaned down and spread its bony claws under the civilian's chin and blew into the civilian's mouth.
Andres: "??"
Lowell also witnessed this scene and turned to look at Yang Qiu in astonishnt.
"It's just CPR," said Yang Qiu calmly.
Lowell: "??"
Andres, who was ahead, also turned around with a completely perplexed look on his face.
"Don't worry, the undead can handle it." Yang Qiu remained as unperturbed as ever. "As I ntioned before, the Taranthan undead are different. They understand the value of life more than the living themselves. As long as there is a glimr of hope, they won't give up on these civilians."
Lowell, Andres, and their troops didn't know how to react at all…
"Everyone, take a break here." Lowell gave a stern command, paying no heed to Yang Qiu, and led his unit further back to create even more distance.
Then, he had everyone dismount and engage in conversation to ensure his subordinates' ntal state remained stable.
Yang Qiu acted as if didn't notice Lowell's nervousness.
He had just said that intentionally just so that this bunch would question their beliefs.
These troops of the Holy Legion would never particularly care about the life of a civilian woman, especially an old, ugly, and seemingly worthless blind one.
He deliberately distorted their worldview, making them realize the fact that "the undead care more about whether a blind woman lives or dies than these warriors of faith from the Duchy of Shiga."
"Civilization" wasn't rely superficially displayed through who dressed more decently, who had better manners, or who spoke more politely.
The true basis of being civilized for any intelligent life or intelligent race was the respect they had for other lives of the sa kind.
In this regard, even the Chinese players who approached the ga casually were beyond the level of the indigenous "civilized people" of this world.
Of course, Yang Qiu himself hadn't been as composed as he made himself to be. While he had been explaining the situation to the Holy Legion unit, he had silently placed the ergency alchemy potion he had taken out back into his spatial ring.
A player who ca online to play during a break before class was a dical student and, along with Ji Tang, who knew so ergency treatnt, confird that the unconscious civilian was suffering from heatstroke. First aid had been skillfully given, so there was no need for him to step in.
A few minutes later, the civilian, who had been incapacitated due to dizziness, coughed twice after the cardiac resuscitation and began to breathe on her own. The recently logged-in dical student player imdiately asked a female player to help remove the thick and heavily wrapped clothes from the civilian, leaving only a light undershirt for warmth.
Ji Tang instructed players to clear a couple of tricycle carts, then built a canopy on the spot using branches, ropes, and tent canvas. He instructed other players to place the civilian on the tricycle with the canopy, elevate her legs, and lie her to the side while covering her abdon with a blanket.
Yang Qiu also released an impromptu quest of [Lunch Preparation] to give this civilian more ti to rest.
"Is she okay?"
"This NPC is fine already, right?"
The small team whom this civilian was assigned to gathered around, nervously watching the entire ergency process.
"Her breathing is more stable now, so she should be fine," said the dical student player who had assisted. "I suspect she overheated due to wearing too many layers and being exposed to direct sunlight for quite so ti, leading to heatstroke. During this break, you all get a female player to get so cold water and use a cloth to help this civilian cool down."
"I'll do it." A female player in the team volunteered.
"Darn, NPCs can actually get heatstroke? Those NPCs in Exile Town wear thick clothes and stand under the sun every day; why hasn't this happened before?" a player wondered out loud.
"Those are advanced NPCs, while these are ordinary NPCs, so it's different," another player explained matter-of-factly.
Ji Tang, who tensed up, stealthily heaved a sigh of relief…
"Wait a mont. Doesn't this an that all the civilian NPCs are wearing too much?" one of the players in the team that had been given a scare by their NPC suffering heatstroke exclaid anxiously. "Can we get them all to wear fewer clothes and take off their outer layers?"
"We can't communicate. These NPCs don't understand what we're saying and won't initiate conversations with us."
"How about this, let's make canopies for the tricycle carts carrying the NPCs. We have tent canvases anyway. And let the female players, who are confident in communicating, try to persuade these NPCs not to wear too many layers," suggested Ji Tang. "I noticed that these female NPCs are more guarded when male players try speaking to them, so let's not get too close."
"Damn, NPCs even have gender consciousness?!" So male players found it amusing.
Female players imdiately expressed their anger. "When male NPCs attack, they never go easy on us. That idiot, Hal, has killed several tis!"
Despite their complaints, the players realized that the lives of these ordinary NPCs directly affected the amount of territory prestige they could earn during this mission. After all, these NPCs were living and breathing "data" beings. Watching them die wasn't sothing players couldn't bear, so they got to work at once.
The caravan had traveled along relatively flat terrain, and the formation wasn't entirely straight, so Mia could easily see the situation from her position near the front.
When Mia saw another of her neighbors from a nearby street, Martina, being carried out by the undead, her face paled dramatically, as if she had seen her own future, and she shivered uncontrollably.
People in town would co across each other often, and Martina, who was ten years older than Mia, had co over to her house to play when Mia was still a little girl.
Mia, who couldn't find a husband and was often mistreated at ho, at least only needed to weave enough to provide for her family. Occasionally, she could still catch a breather.
Martina, on the other hand, got married at eighteen and had a child at a young age. In her early twenties, she had to work day and night to support herself, her child, and her husband, who refused to work at the plantation. By the ti she reached her mid-thirties, her body had weakened like others her age, and her eyesight was so poor that she couldn't even see anything further away than a ter.
"Mia, what's happening?" a woman sharing the sa cart with Mia couldn't see that far, so she asked the youngest among them, Mia.
"It's Martina. She seems… sick, and they carried her off the cart," Mia replied, her voice trembling.
The other four won in the cart weren't feeling too comfortable either. Upon hearing the news, their faces grew even paler.
"May the Goddess protect her," one of the won spoke, lowering her head and clasping her hands in front of her, quietly praying for their unfortunate fellow townsfolk.
For the impoverished lower class, seeking dical treatnt was a foreign concept. The sick could only endure their suffering, and if they survived, it was considered a stroke of luck; if not, it was their fate.
For soone like Martina to fall ill in these circumstances was akin to a death sentence.
But what happened next was beyond Mia's expectations. Despite her poor eyesight, she saw that the undead didn't carry Martina away and discard her body. Instead, they surrounded her and perford actions that Mia couldn't comprehend.
Although she had no idea what these undead were doing, based on their body language, Mia could instinctively sense that they seed to care for Martina and had no intention of abandoning her!
However, Mia couldn't believe her own intuition; she even questioned her own sanity.
She bit her lip, not daring to share what she saw and felt with the others in the cart. She was afraid that she would be seen as foolish, imagining unrealistic things, and going mad like the elderly often did.
A few minutes later, Martina, who had been lying motionless on the ground, coughed softly. Mia, who had been closely observing her, gasped in astonishnt.
The undead were chattering, and even though Mia couldn't understand their language or decipher their skeletal faces, she could sense their joy.
"Mia? What's wrong?"
"Did sothing happen again?" the other won in the sa cart couldn't see that far and asked anxiously.
"They saved Martina… They didn't abandon her." Mia couldn't hold back her tears, and her frail body trembled slightly. "Oh Goddess…"
Mia saw a female undead with a feminine voice help Martina remove her outer clothing and carefully move her to a three-wheeled cart that now had a canopy shade.
"Is Martina alright? Are you sure she's really okay?" the won in the cart couldn't resist standing up and asking Mia repeatedly.
"I don't know for sure, but I saw the undead carry Martina back onto the cart. They didn't abandon her; that's true," Mia replied shakily. "It seems like they think it's not good for Martina to be exposed to the sun, so they added a shade to the cart she's sitting on."
The sun was scorching today with almost no clouds in the sky, and being exposed to the sun for the entire morning was indeed uncomfortable for everyone.
The won in the cart stared at Mia in disbelief and then looked blankly into the distance, where everything was blurry to them.
Several undead, whose voices were already familiar, approached them. So flipped the tent cloth on their neighboring tricycle carts, while others gestured and made incomprehensible sounds as if trying to communicate with them.
Instinctively, Mia and the four won in the cart huddled together and withdrew in fright.
Seeing these undead skeletons moving and speaking up close was still terrifying for most.
However, Mia didn't feel too scared for so reason.
She noticed that the undead woman in front of them, who was gesturing, had a gentle and pleasant voice.
After carefully observing her gestures for a while, Mia thought for a mont and attempted to unbutton her outerwear.
The female undead imdiately raised her thumb and nodded vigorously, then turned slightly and pointed at the three-wheeled cart where Martina lay, followed by pointing at the scorching sun in the sky, tilting her head, and exaggeratedly mimicking soone falling unconscious.
A smile appeared on Mia's face.
She understood; this female undead was trying to tell her that wearing too many layers of clothes would cause problems, just like what happened to Martina.
"She's trying to tell us not to wear too thick clothes; otherwise, we might get sick like Martina," Mia mustered up her courage and spoke up. "They saved Martina, and they don't want us to get sick like her."
Throughout the journey, whether in the day or at night, most of the female civilians wore every piece of clothing they could find.
It wasn't that these won weren't afraid of the heat, but because more than half of their group consisted of n.
Even elderly, weak, or disabled n posed a threat to them because the won were equally fragile, and most of them had vision problems.
They were the true bottom class and didn't have any fantasies about others being kind and pure.
The won exchanged glances for a mont but did not object. Then, they willingly removed their thick, suffocating clothes.
At this mont, there were only a few n left in their group, and they were all packed to the back of the convoy by the undead. There was no need for them to wrap themselves up so tightly anymore.
"Hah!" With hands on her hips, Tang Jia turned to her comrades proudly. "How about that? I really have a talent for communication, don't I? I managed to convince these NPCs in just a few monts!"
"Yes, yes, you're incredibly talented." Yang Ying walked over with a canvas and chuckled. "Ask the NPCs to get down from the carts to stretch, genius."
Behind the undead convoy, so 200 ters away.
After ascertaining that the ntality of the troops in his unit was stable, Lowell heaved a sigh of relief and ordered everyone to stay put. He then walked over to assess the situation.
The tricycle convoy was also resting. So undead were boiling water on makeshift stoves, while others were constructing simple canopy shades for so of the carts.
Most of the civilians had removed their excessively thick clothing and were cautiously moving within a small area.
A few civilians helped each other walk to the cart where the sick person was lying, to offer their greetings and exchange so words.
So more courageous won with limited eyesight cautiously observed the undead and even… approached them curiously, trying to communicate by gesturing awkwardly, wanting to help.
Lowell: "…"
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