"Please, spare us!"
"There's a huge cellar beneath my house. Give us some water and food, then lock us inside. We absolutely won't run!"
That was the best solution he could imagine. He didn't want to die, and he didn't want anyone else to die either.
When war and death confronted him directly, he realized he wasn't as ruthless as he had imagined.
The small village was far removed from larger communities, and was less affected by fanaticism and the surrounding atmosphere.
His only thought now was to hope that everyone could survive.
They had never done anything to the Federation people. They had only lived here, farmed, and raised their families! They would never attack the Federation people, and they didn't want to be harmed by them either! The village chief's legs trembled. Under the dim light, he looked haggard as he lowered his head, bent at the waist, and humbly stared at the ground.
Ryan turned around and looked at the soldiers behind him. The soldiers wore troubled expressions.
When they left the Federation, they had mentally prepared themselves to kill and be killed. But at this moment, they were facing a group of civilians.
Eighteen or nineteen, perhaps twenty years old—the age when people were stubborn and filled with what they believed to be justice. They each had their own views on the world, values, and right and wrong.
Killing civilians was wrong! No one fired. Ryan was somewhat irritated, but that anger quickly faded.
He remembered himself when he had first arrived in Maliro. Without brushing against death a few times, no one could understand why this world was so cruel.
But he wouldn't give these people the chance to learn through trial and error, because the price was too high! He ignored what the village