At this very moment, Paradise City.
Sherlock stood beside the fountain at the center of the city, dressed in Parthian Style robes and staring intently toward the east.
Contrary to what they had agreed earlier, Sherlock had not led everyone out of Paradise City before the final moment arrived.
The original plan had been simple... The refugees would leave Paradise City in batches, carrying water and heading toward Rock Cellar City. Sherlock, meanwhile, would remain behind to defend the city with the Water Shard of the Geometric Angel.
With him guarding the city, no one would dare loot it. Sherlock could also continuously use his magic power to provide an endless supply of clean water.
The first few days went smoothly. People withdrew in orderly groups, while Sherlock successfully intimidated several waves of looters.
But just as Sherlock was preparing to leave, an accident suddenly occurred.
Among those who had fled earlier, some were Free People who lived aboveground, while others were slaves who were still relatively healthy. But there were simply too many slaves living beneath Paradise City...
The slaves who had someone to help them had already left Paradise City in the previous few days, carrying resources with the help of friends and relatives. They had all tacitly agreed to leave with only a small number of people.
That led to a situation Sherlock had never anticipated—after all of those people had left, huge numbers of slaves who had never seen the sky suddenly emerged from the nooks and crannies underground.
—Not everyone could make a long journey through the desert.
Some were cripples who had lost their hands or feet after angering their masters, yet had somehow survived. Others had been ravaged by curses or disease, leaving them disfigured or extraordinarily weak, to the point that they