Ava City after the war had already been left utterly unrecognizable. Austria's bombing had been targeted; aside from military facilities, most of what was hit were landmark buildings.
Whatever stood out was bombed. The inconspicuous civilian districts instead suffered relatively minor losses. Most buildings had merely been caught in the blast, rather than sustaining devastating damage.
The fires caused by the bombing were quickly extinguished, but crying still echoed throughout the city. Order within the city had collapsed, and the thugs taking advantage of the chaos were indulging themselves to the fullest.
Quite a few of the Ottoman soldiers who should have been maintaining order had also joined the looters. The ugliness of human nature was laid bare completely. Tonight, Ava was weeping.
If someone had kept count, they would have discovered that fewer civilians had died in the bombing than in the ensuing chaos.
Faced with the turmoil, Akyol and his apprentice did not dare leave the house either. Not long ago, several thugs had tried to loot the place, only to be driven off by Akyol and his apprentice with hunting rifles in hand.
The hunting rifles were part of the blacksmith shop owner's collection, supposedly handed down through the family. Perhaps time had been too short, or perhaps they had been too nervous, but the rifles had been left behind.
Osman Raga's son asked, "Master, will they come back?"
One knew one's own affairs best. No one even knew what era these collectible hunting rifles had come down from. They were fine for scaring people, but if they were actually used to kill someone, the odds of killing themselves were not much lower than the odds of killing the enemy.
Akyol answered uncertainly, "Probably not. This is a blacksmith shop, and the officials have requisitioned it. Other