The kestrel Matthew had become soared through the sky. Kestrels had excellent eyesight; even while flying high and fast, he could make out what was happening on the ground.
The Royal Capital had grown much quieter.
Matthew had just come from the commercial district. Before he left the Royal Capital, it had been bustling. Now foot traffic had fallen by at least half.
It seemed the capital's residents still had not recovered from the unrest.
Matthew flew toward the Six-Ring Western District, home to the largest number of refugees and the place where members of the Land of Mist were hiding.
Strangely, the shantytown the refugees had built there seemed almost deserted.
Many of its makeshift homes were built from nothing but planks, stones, and cloth. They often stood open, exposing their interiors, and Matthew could see into some of them from above.
No one was inside. The homes had been abandoned!
There were so many refugees here last time!
Matthew beat his wings and descended. He needed a closer look.
This place really has been abandoned... Matthew thought.
He flew into a shack. Dust had gathered on its pots and utensils, even on the bed made of planks and stones. It looked as though no one had used the place for at least two weeks.
Did the Royal Capital send the refugees back? The Emerald Kingdom's civil war is over, so did they return home? Matthew wondered.
It was possible. Some nobles had opposed accepting the refugees from the start, arguing that they would spoil the Royal Capital's surroundings.
But the Seale Family, which governed the capital, had been promoting magical industry and needed a great deal of labor. That was why it had silenced the opposition.
Yet the refugees appeared to have left their belongings behind. The items