Grisha sat in a tree, swinging his legs as he occasionally glanced below, a silly smile sometimes appearing on his face.
Lady Nora had been back for several days now.
For some reason, even though there had been no raids these past few days and Lady Nora had merely sat in the camp holding her Flail, everyone's emotions had gradually settled down.
Their fear and anxiety somehow vanished whenever they saw Lady Nora's weathered armor.
Even if she simply stood there, people felt safe.
Many had even begun to worship her—this had happened before, but Lady Nora had always stopped them. Now, however, she merely stayed there quietly, letting people kneel at her feet and weep out their troubles.
She had originally been a priestess of the Silent Temple. Though the temple was gone now, it was probably only natural for people to pray to her.
Grisha did not really understand such things. He only knew that he felt more motivated to stand watch every day.
He was still too young for hunting or gathering berries. Even the watches were organized by the children themselves.
Although the resistance had been forced to camp in the forest, their food was actually not too bad. Such a vast forest could easily support these refugees. The problem was that the forest belonged to the noble lords, who would rather see refugees like them starve to death than let them make a living within it.
Lost in his thoughts, Grisha let his attention wander. When he heard a voice from below, he inwardly cried out in alarm and tried to hide, but it was already too late.
"Is this the resistance camp?"
A man looked up at Grisha with a smile.
He wore a somewhat worn robe over a thick sheepskin coat, with a