The Beginning of Despair

"We're safe... for now."

After some time spent confirming it, the Yeti Squad scouts bringing up the rear discovered that Lungmen had not sent any pursuers after them.

Or perhaps Lungmen had never dispatched any pursuers at all?

The exiles all breathed a sigh of relief.

This was the best news they had heard since the assault on Lungmen began.

Yes. From the moment they had been sent to attack Lungmen, their fates had already been sealed. They were Talulah's discarded pawns.

But the exiles knew they were comparatively fortunate.

Many more of their comrades had simply died in Lungmen, without ever knowing why.

Some Reunion Movement Infected had even remained immersed in the beautiful blueprint Talulah had painted for them until their dying breaths.

Those pitiable, tragic Infected had even believed their deaths were worthwhile, because the Reunion Movement would conquer Lungmen afterward, and their deaths would become glorious sacrifices.

It had to be said that the brainwashed Reunion Movement Infected truly did not fear death, and they possessed considerable combat strength.

But compared with Lungmen's Guard Department, the Blackcoats, and Rhodes Island, after losing the command of Reunion Movement officers such as FrostNova, Mephisto, and Faust, these Infected had only one possible end: annihilation.

"Let's rest for a while... It'll be dark soon. We need to find somewhere underground to make camp."

Big Bear looked at the exhausted exiles and spoke softly.

Fortunately, some of the Reunion Movement soldiers had brought supplies needed for camping. That was more good news.

The exiles were currently in the wilderness outside Lungmen. Though they were still fairly close to the city, they had already stepped beyond the bounds of human civilization.

Compared to the mobile cities illuminated by the light of civilization, the wilderness was always full of danger. And the deeper one went, the stranger and more absurd it became.

The sky gradually darkened, and the temperature fell. The exiles began to feel a faint chill.

The difference between day and night temperatures in the wilderness was immense. Especially now, after the rain, when the air was thick with moisture—a blast of cold wind made some lightly dressed Infected shiver.

The Yeti Squad warriors, however, paid no mind to such temperatures. After all, this level of cold could not compare to the frigid ice plains of northwestern Ursus.

Some Yetis took off their thick cotton coats and lent them to their injured Infected comrades.

An Infected who used flame Originium Arts lit the campfires. The Infected could cast Originium Arts directly without relying on Originium staves. At a time like this, they could not help but be grateful for that convenience.

Sitting beside the fires, everyone's faces flickered between light and shadow.

Big Bear sighed. The burden on his shoulders felt heavy.

The entire exile group consisted of three parts.

First was the complete Yeti Squad, which was also the most intact unit. They had not gone through much fighting. Other than confronting some Blackcoats for a while, they had not seen any other battles.

However, the Yeti Squad had never been large to begin with, numbering only around thirty people. And that count had to exclude FrostNova and Yangge, who had gone to warn Patriot.

Next was the Phantom Crossbowmen Squad, numbering around ten.

They had been Faust's subordinates. Their ability to conceal their sounds and blend into their surroundings had all come from Faust's Originium Arts.

So, strictly speaking, without the protection of Faust's special invisibility Originium Arts, these crossbowmen could no longer be called Phantom Crossbowmen.

Still, their marksmanship was excellent, and they had received solid tactical training. They were still a fine group of fighters.

Of course, the Phantom Crossbowmen now faced a predicament as well: they lacked crossbow bolts.

For ranged fighters, that was fatal.

The third part was the remaining fragments of the Reunion Movement.

They were also the largest group among the exiles, numbering more than fifty.

They came from different Reunion Movement detachments, and their composition was extremely complicated. There were casters, swordsmen, crossbowmen, and even heavily armored warriors.

In short, they could be described as a motley crew.

"Boss, what are you looking at..." Petrova carried a small bowl of potato soup over and sat beside Big Bear, nudging the pensive man with her elbow.

The middle-aged man looked at the clusters of campfires burning across the wilderness and murmured:

"We really did escape, but surviving will still be difficult... What should I do to keep them alive..."

That was right. Big Bear was now the captain.

The exiles had chosen him. Big Bear had already held a high position, and he had been the captain of the Yeti Squad to begin with, so the Infected had chosen to listen to him.

The exiles had entrusted their future to Big Bear. Deeply responsible by nature, he believed he had to bear that responsibility.

Holding a dead branch, Big Bear drew in the dirt as he explained to Petrova, point by point, the problems the exiles now faced.

"First, the wounded."

Five members of the Yeti Squad had sustained minor injuries, while another two had been seriously injured during their confrontation with the Blackcoats. Their wounds had been stabilized and treated, but in the wilderness, where medical resources and conditions were lacking, the severely wounded still had little chance of survival.

The Phantom Crossbowmen were mostly fine. Only one had suffered a minor scrape.

The worst off were the Infected remnants of the Reunion Movement. Of the more than fifty people, over twenty were injured, and some could not even stand anymore.

Taking them along would absolutely slow the entire group's progress. Worse still, these people might die halfway through the journey.

Perhaps tomorrow, they would collapse.

This was the first choice Big Bear had to face—whether to abandon these injured Infected.

A cold-blooded leader might directly choose to abandon the seriously injured Infected and leave them in the wilderness to await death.

Doing so might serve the interests of the majority, and these people might even approve of it. Naturally, it would also improve the group's overall efficiency.

But the seeds of discord would be planted in every exile's heart.

Later, anyone might be injured during this journey. And if they, too, were abandoned so ruthlessly...

Yet if he chose not to abandon them, then as the entire group suffered the consequences, the exiles might come to resent or even hate the injured. Contradictions and conflicts could erupt at any moment.

Big Bear did not dare test human nature or people's hearts. He also knew that the exiles could not withstand such a test now.

Their minds and bodies had already reached their limits. The exiles were like a powder keg, with helplessness, despair, and confusion spreading everywhere.

Under such circumstances, anything could happen.

Before the journey had truly even begun, Big Bear realized that what stood before him was the beginning of despair.