Zoe gradually recovered from the shock. She had been stunned by the scene before her, and only now did she understand why Granny had sighed back then—these cultists were the impoverished people she had seen in the Lower District.
Cultists. She had only known them as madmen, synonymous with danger and insanity, yet she had never considered where they came from, as though they simply sprouted from the ground like weeds.
She gritted her teeth, trembling.
She was clearly the leader, yet Connor and Erwin had been the ones helping her make decisions all this time. Perhaps this had been part of Lord Castel's consideration from the beginning, but since she bore the title of leader, she had to shoulder that responsibility.
Zoe forcibly suppressed her emotions and looked around.
Most of Castel's people had remained in the manor; only Zoe had ever come to the Lower District.
Everyone knew they were headed in the right general direction, but they could not tell exactly where they were.
"This is near the barracks. It's the only place in the Lower District where order is still somewhat maintained. Several nearby roads lead to most parts of the Lower District."
Erwin nodded. "Is it far from the docks?"
"Not far. It's on the way, too, but there are musketeers in the barracks ahead." Granny took over, concern in her voice.
If there was anything in Blood Port that could threaten them, it was the musketeer unit in the barracks.
No matter how many cultists there were, they were still flesh and blood. Their feeble Transcendents might be able to deal with ordinary people, but before Granny, they were simply no match.
But muskets were different. If one was hit by a musket ball, one could die.
Whether bolt-action rifles or rifled muskets, they