Facing the Wilderness and the Pioneers — 6,000 Words

(While writing this in the middle of the night, I made myself some potato noodles with hot water and stirred them... adding a little coarse salt.)

Someone had once said this to Big Bear: there were two things one could not stare directly at—the sun and the human heart.

Big Bear had also heard a philosopher from another country say:

There were only two things in this world that could fill our souls with profound awe: the brilliant starry sky above us, and the lofty moral law within us.

Under normal circumstances, Big Bear had no spare time to think about such things.

His time was usually far from abundant.

The Yeti Squad had followed Patriot's Ursus guerrillas across the frigid northwestern wilderness.

Marching.

Training.

Fighting.

And after that, they had joined the Reunion Movement.

More battles, and more death.

Big Bear could no longer contemplate such things like a Victorian philosopher or a Columbian scholar.

Yet now, those words rose unbidden in his mind once more.

Yes, on a cold night beneath a sky where a few stars twinkled, Big Bear once again recalled words he had heard long ago.

Firelight danced before him.

In his hands was a bowl of mashed potatoes that still retained a little warmth.

There was not much of it.

Or rather, it would be hard to get full on it.

It was probably just enough to keep his stomach from growling.

Still, it could fill an empty stomach and soothe the craving for food.

Potatoes were a common staple for Ursus people. Especially on the northwestern ice plains, they often made up an entire month's menu for the guerrillas.

But now, even this food was scarce for the exiles. They had not brought much food with them; every meal they ate meant one less meal remaining.

Moreover, compared to staples like bread, it provided relatively little energy, containing only 0.1% fat.

It hardly seemed enough to meet the exiles' caloric needs.

As he thought, Big Bear scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Could this count as a last supper?

Big Bear ate as he considered possible solutions.

First, water.

Fortunately, lakes were neither rare nor scarce in the wilderness.

This was not the desert of Sargon.

Natural lakes could still be found out here.

Carrying a certain amount of water in containers could meet the exiles' needs.

Next, food.

Big Bear believed they needed to forage for food in the wilderness.

The roots and stems of some plants contained starch.

Not only roots and stems, but also the fruits plants bore, as well as edible wild vegetables.

Mushrooms could be eaten too, and were ideal for making soup.

But they had to distinguish carefully whether they were poisonous.

These were survival skills the guerrilla soldiers under Old Man had taught them.

Such knowledge had helped the guerrillas overcome many hardships.

However, Terra was simply too vast, with an abundance and variety of resources. Plant species differed from region to region.

Finding food that could fill their stomachs in this wilderness would not be easy.

As for meat, there was no shortage of it in the wilderness.

Wild beasts, fish from the lakes, birds, even Originium slugs and sandworms lurking beneath the soil.

All were gifts the wilderness offered to explorers.

And most crucially, medicine.

As mentioned before, there were quite a few wounded among the exiles.

The medicine they carried was nowhere near enough to meet their needs.

Fortunately, some things could also be found in the wilderness.

Dried and ground Andegon and Brock Flower could be applied externally to treat wounds.

The bodily fluids of Originium slugs could be used to stop bleeding after fermentation.

The leaves of certain plants could be processed into bandages.

When humanity lost the pillars of modern civilization, it needed to reclaim the knowledge of the past and return to the wilderness it had long since left behind.

"Fortunately, our group doesn't lack experienced wilderness travelers."

That was one of the few things that gave Big Bear some comfort.

After careful consideration, Big Bear decisively dismissed the idea of abandoning the wounded.

"Come to think of it, were Big Bob, Mudrock, and the others also leading their own teams through the wilderness like this...?"

The corners of Big Bear's mouth curled up slightly, but his smile was bitter.

He mechanically spooned mashed potatoes into his mouth, one spoonful after another. Lost in thought, he had long stopped noticing their dull, monotonous taste.

After only a few spoonfuls, the spoon struck the bowl. No longer was there the soft sensation of mashed potatoes, only the sound of metal tapping against something hard.

He had scraped it clean.

He poured a little water into the bowl and stirred it, making sure every remaining bit of food could be washed down with the water.

Haa—

Big Bear drank the bowl clean, then let out a long breath.

Since setting out from the ruins of District 14 toward Lungmen, this was the first time he had eaten.

Rising from a relatively flat rock, Big Bear looked around.

Campfires dotted the land, one after another, merging into a sea of light that illuminated the area and offered people at least a little sense of safety.

Perhaps it was just an illusion, but he kept feeling that something was watching him from the darkness.

Big Bear knew it was an illusion.

Or rather, it was humanity's instinctive awe of darkness.

Some people instinctively feared the basements in their own homes; some were even afraid to open their closets.

As if there might be a skeleton inside.

The wilderness was no exception.

The wilderness was too vast.

And humans were too small.

When darkness stretched endlessly around them, people instinctively wanted to curl into a ball or crawl into some hole.

Besides the campfires, some exiles had set up camps of their own.

Tents made of wooden sticks and tarps, seemingly ready to collapse with a single gust of wind. The materials had all been gathered on the spot.

After all, trees were not hard to find in the wilderness.

Walk a little farther, and one could always spot a few lonely trees.

Wooden sticks could be used for more than just building tents.

The next morning, the tents could be taken apart, and the sticks and cloth could be used to make stretchers.

—It would be wonderful if they had a pack beast—but for now, they could only imagine it.

Big Bear was concerned with more than survival. He was also concerned with the exiles' morale and state of mind.

Now was the best time to lift their spirits.

Big Bear knew he had to say something to settle everyone's hearts.

A disorganized group could not survive in the wilderness.

Anyone could understand that.

They were not few in number.

They also carried weapons.

There were casters among them as well.

Big Bear still held great hope that he could lead these exiles to a home of their own.

Big Bear's fate had changed.

Now, he was no longer living only for himself.

He now bore the fate of the entire group of exiles on his shoulders.

And that change had happened in just a single day.

Perhaps there was a saying that put it well:

A person's struggle was certainly important, but one also had to consider the course of history.

"Everyone."

Big Bear jumped onto a nearby rock and shouted.

Then he startled himself first.

Right. He had never spoken so loudly before...

But that shout successfully drew everyone's attention.

The exiles turned their eyes toward Big Bear.

With so many people staring at him, Big Bear did not feel nervous. But when he looked into all those pairs of eyes, he did not know what to say.

Normally, for Ursus people, all it took to raise morale was a roar of "Ura!" or some Ursus battle cry like "Holy Sword of the White Emperor, greatest sword in Huaxia!" or "Follow me with your swords!"

After all, those Ursus battle cries were the best at stirring Ursus people's emotions, rallying everyone together and strengthening the group's cohesion.

But Big Bear simply could not say them.

Hot-blooded fervor alone was useless. The Infected here had already proven that through the failures that followed blind obedience.

Big Bear needed to tell them in practical terms exactly what they had to do. That was true leadership.

He did not want to be like that Reunion Movement tyrant sitting in Chernobog's core city, deceiving and manipulating these pitiful Infected with false lies and empty prospects.

"The harder the times, the more we should tell everyone the truth. Otherwise, our choices will be blind. What could be more dangerous than walking across the land with our eyes covered?"

Something like that...

So after a moment of silence, Big Bear began explaining the problems facing the exiles and the practical solutions to them.

It was also an arrangement for the work ahead. If they wanted to survive in this wilderness and reach their destination, everyone needed to act.

Their numbers were also one of their few advantages.

Over a hundred people, all of them warriors—this was a force not to be underestimated.

Of course, feeding so many mouths was also a difficult task.

Big Bear explained every point as thoroughly as he could.

Among the exiles were both well-educated, capable people and those with little education—the latter clearly outnumbered the former.

Most of them could barely read at all.

"Don't worry about the wounded. I won't abandon a single injured warrior... We'll just move a little slower."

Big Bear spoke to reassure them.

Then came several even more important questions.

Big Bear looked around and called out loudly:

"Is anyone familiar with wilderness survival? Hunters, messengers, anyone."

More than a dozen people in the exile group raised their hands sporadically.

Some had been hunters before becoming Infected, while others had gained similar survival experience while fleeing.

"We'll be relying on you a great deal on the road ahead."

It was not just about finding food, water, and medicinal herbs. Those familiar with wilderness survival were skilled at choosing suitable campsites, finding the right paths through the wilds, and guiding the group to keep them from losing their way.

"Captain, don't worry. We'll do our best!" The exiles who had stepped forward all nodded.

Anyone with sense knew that the whole group would either prosper together or suffer together. Even if some had selfish motives, no one would reveal them now.

"Good. Next question—how much money do we have?"

It was quite a strange question.

Money seemed useless in the wilderness.

But that was only an illusion.

Passing merchant caravans, Catastrophe Messengers traveling through the wilderness, and other people passing by were all potential contacts for exchange and trade.

Merchant caravans in particular.

If there had been fewer exiles, Big Bear might even have been confident of getting the caravans to hire them as escorts for part of the journey, letting them hitch a ride in the bargain.

But that was completely impossible now, because no merchant caravan would hire a group of over a hundred people at once.

Besides money, most wilderness trade was conducted through barter.

After all, although Lungmen Dollars circulated throughout the world's major countries, quite a few regions still used their own currencies.

Looks like we'll need to find opportunities to hunt for treasure... Becoming bounty hunters or treasure hunters is also an option.

They could not simply demand everything from the wilderness. Many things—many things from human civilization—were still quite useful.

For example, antibiotics to prevent infection, as well as human-made tools and essential detectors or compasses.

Even maps.

Maps were extremely valuable in this world.

And they were not easy to make.

Because mobile cities could change their locations at any time to evade Catastrophes, following an old map could very well lead to nothing at all.

In a world plagued by frequent Catastrophes, a map like this could very well determine the fate of a person—or an entire city.

That was why Big Bear knew the refugees would eventually have to head toward settlements of human civilization to obtain supplies.

In the ideal scenario, after traveling for a while, the refugees would reach a nomadic city or town, resupply, and then continue on to the next nomadic city.

But that was unlikely. No city would be willing to take in such a large group of Infected. They might not even be allowed through the gates.

Still, there was always a way. Finding a smuggler to arrange illegal entry was the simplest solution—though it would cost a great deal of money.

In short, even Big Bear only had a rough outline in mind. Turning those plans into reality would require a long road ahead.

For now, the only direction he had was the location Bai Ye had given him.

An estate on Columbia's border.

There, the Infected could survive through labor, own land of their own, and—have a home.

Big Bear believed what Bai Ye had said. That handsome young man did not seem like the sort to lie. Judging by his actions, he even seemed beneath lying.

Big Bear had deeply felt Bai Ye's overwhelming strength—if he wanted to wipe out the Yeti Squad, he would not need tricks or deception. He could simply do it himself.

Still, Big Bear knew this land was not so beautiful.

Columbia's "tolerance" toward the Infected existed only because its endless expansion required cheap labor.

Columbia was no stranger to war. The nation was madly expanding its territory, and conflicts along its borders never ceased.

It had even directly interfered in Bolívar's internal affairs.

Big Bear had a feeling that Bolívar would sooner or later become Columbia's territory.

Perhaps the process would take a long time, but Columbia had the patience.

And it had the strength.

"Wheat fields, hop vines... they really are wonderful things. In truth, the Reunion Movement's original goal, even as we fought and struggled for our lives, was only to eat a full meal and have somewhere to sleep."

Big Bear looked at the refugees, shook his head, and pulled his wandering thoughts back.

Daydreams were indeed wonderful. They could make people forget their temporary pain, and immersing oneself in fantasies could numb the mind.

But people were creatures who lived in reality, after all.

That contrast would only drive them mad.

And there was one more important issue that needed solving.

Catastrophes.

Out in the wilderness, what was the most dangerous thing?

Anyone who had traveled through the wilderness would give the same answer:

Catastrophes.

Of course, there were many things in the wilderness hundreds of times more terrifying and bizarre than Catastrophes. In fact, Catastrophes whose principles were understood were not necessarily all that frightening.

Yet they were the things that most directly inspired reverence and fear toward this land.

When spiral winds and tornadoes slowly advanced from the distant horizon, when massive boulders plunged from the sky toward the earth, when torrential rain poured down without any sign of stopping, only then would humanity feel fear and stand in awe of nature.

The Yeti Squad had witnessed a Catastrophe with their own eyes.

An unimaginably cold current swept across the wilderness together with a blizzard. Guerrilla soldiers who had not made it to shelter were frozen into ice sculptures within three seconds of being touched by the cold. Then, little by little, the storm ground them into fragments.

Later, fragments of some corpses were found on the ground several kilometers away. They could no longer even be recognized as flesh and blood, covered in Originium crystals and clear, glittering ice.

If Patriot had not found an abandoned Ursus war bunker ahead of time and led them into the underground fortress to shelter from the Catastrophe, the entire unit would likely have died in it.

Mm, without feeling the slightest pain.

In truth, there were too many bizarre things in the wilderness, too many mysteries capable of wiping out an entire group of refugees. But no one had ever seen those things; there were only scattered rumors, which could not inspire the most immediate kind of fear.

"We have over a hundred people. What is there to fear?" Numbers could also give people a sense of security.

Even the mysterious wilderness and darkness no longer frightened the refugees.

But Catastrophes could.

The Catastrophe that had descended upon Chernobog had shown everyone just how terrifying nature's might could be.

That was why Big Bear knew the refugee group needed to get in contact with a Catastrophe Messenger as soon as possible.

He had already asked around. There were no Catastrophe Messengers among the refugees, let alone scholars in that field.

Catastrophe Messengers were specialized workers capable of gathering all kinds of intelligence from the wilderness and detecting Catastrophes in advance.

Usually, a Catastrophe Messenger and a Catastrophe Messenger Guard operated as a pair in the wilderness, collecting data and bringing information about possible Catastrophes back to nomadic cities.

After evaluation, if the information proved accurate and a Catastrophe was likely to strike, the nomadic city would unlock its district locks a week before the predicted date of the Catastrophe—though three to five days was also possible—split apart, and move in separate formations.

It sounded simple, but the entire process was extremely complicated.

First, moving a nomadic city consumed an enormous amount of Originium.

Second, the entire land was interconnected. During relocation, a nomadic city could very well collide with another nomadic city.

Therefore, confirming a safe route was also necessary.

To that end, Catastrophe Messengers had banded together and established an intelligence network across the land known as the "Contingency Contract."

Of course, Big Bear did not need to consider so much. He needed to send someone trustworthy ahead to the nearest nomadic city and obtain Catastrophe intelligence.

The best option would be to get a radio.

That way, once they drew near a nomadic city, the refugees could receive Catastrophe warnings and broadcasts through specific radio frequencies. In addition, the latest locations of certain refuge cities would also be announced over the radio.

Connecting to the intercity network linking nomadic cities was another good option—though that would require getting closer to a city, making it more difficult.

The person traveling alone needed to be familiar with the wilderness, have courage, and most importantly—be able to come back.

Yes. With the resources the refugee group currently possessed, they could only send out one "messenger."

This messenger would be given a sum of money, as complete a set of supplies as possible, and weapons.

Only with those things could he cross the wilderness alone at the fastest possible speed and reach the next gathering place of human civilization.

Then, this advance scout could obtain intelligence, news of Catastrophes, and information about the movements of the "underground world."

He could also use the funds to purchase essential supplies.

When he returned with those things, the refugee group would have a direction to follow.

How did they reach the next settlement?

When and where would Catastrophes strike?

Was the next human settlement friendly? Could they obtain supplies there? Could the Infected be smuggled in?

What unrest had occurred in the underground world?

All of that was crucial information.

At certain times, it could even save the group.

But it was also a choice and decision filled with risk.

With the provisions forcibly scraped together by the entire group in his possession, he would be the person most likely to escape.

If crooked thoughts arose in his heart—if, for example, he used that money to begin a new life in a new city, changed his identity, and forgot the refugee group waiting for his report—

Then it would be a disaster for the entire group.

The group's resources were already scarce, and that "messenger" sent ahead was their only hope.

This was the issue giving Big Bear the greatest headache.

The human heart was forever difficult to look upon, and incapable of enduring scrutiny. He did not want to scrutinize people's hearts.

Yet an advance scout was necessary. If they had no intelligence about Catastrophes and were unfortunate enough to encounter one—

What awaited the entire refugee group would be the end of their journey.

All their previous efforts would have been for nothing.

That was also the final matter Big Bear needed to raise.

Choosing an advance scout they could trust.