The streets were a mess.
The smashed doors and windows were scattered all over the ground, helmets and rifles were strewn everywhere, and the bright red bloodstains gradually darkened and congealed.
The townspeople helped each other check on the wounded, while the remaining soldiers, seeing that all was lost, threw down their weapons and surrendered.
Duffi, panting heavily, planted the bent shovel in his hand on the ground.
He looked around and exhaled a long breath.
They won and protected their homeland.
" Pazu, come here!"
Pazu quickly handed the injured person he was helping over to someone else and jogged over to his master.
"You little rascal," Duffi reached out and gave Pazu's head a good ruffled scrape, "Well done."
Pazu's head bobbed slightly from the rubbing, and he grinned sheepishly.
"But when did you become so good at fighting? What are those golden lights? And----"
He raised his chin and gestured towards the other side of the street.
There, Dola was directing her five sons in dealing with the "prisoners."
They dragged the unconscious soldiers together, bound their hands and feet with belts or something similar, and piled up the valuables they found on the soldiers and in their scattered packages.
His skill level was a hundred times better than that of the clumsy townspeople next to him.
"And what's with those guys? Weren't they the air pirates who chased you and that little girl this morning?"
Pazu opened his mouth, but suddenly found himself at a loss for words.
Elden Stars fell from the sky, a rock monster emerged from the mine, a golden stone proclaimed itself a god, and he and Sheeta gained magical abilities as missionaries----
These experiences were so surreal that he didn't know how to begin.
"Uh, well—" Pazu's gaze drifted to Sheeta, who was helping the injured person up in the distance, "I'll go check on Sheeta first! We'll talk about the rest later!"
Pazu turned and ran; he had to hurry and ask the Erdtree.
He's completely unfamiliar with missionary work and such.
"This kid—" Duffi shook his head, but didn't bother to investigate further.
As the leader of the workers, I have more important things to do right now.
"Everyone who can still move, come over here! First, carry the wounded to the clinic, then get some hot water and clean cloths to help!"
"And you guys, take some men and clean up the streets, make sure the children don't find any of those weapons."
At Duffi's command, the workers and townspeople immediately sprang into action to clean up the mess.
People reacted in different ways, but most of them looked radiant and excited.
They had heard more than once or twice that General Muoro's troops were rampant and oppressive to the people.
Although the Valley Town was too remote and impoverished, and this was the first time those thugs had ever visited it, it did not diminish their pride in defending their homeland.
"See that guy? I knocked his teeth out with one pickaxe."
"Come on, you attacked from behind, I took down two of them head-on!"
"Haha, these guys in military uniforms are nothing special!"
Several young miners were tidying up the debris while chatting and laughing loudly.
But not everyone was immersed in the joy of victory; some elderly townspeople had worried expressions on their faces.
They've lived decades longer and understand the rules of the world better than younger people.
That's one of the most powerful warlords in the Northern Kingdom, with planes and tanks under his command. If we drive away a hundred of his soldiers today, will he send a thousand tomorrow?
What will we do then? Are we supposed to drag our families and hide in the dark depths of a mine?
Many others, however, had no time to worry about the future; their loved ones and friends were lying in pools of blood.
Although the volley of gunfire was largely inaccurate, more than a dozen people were still hit by bullets.
In addition to those who were seriously wounded by bayonets and rifle butts, there were dozens of people lying on the ground bleeding profusely and on the verge of death.
The town's only clinic was packed with people inside and out.
The doctor, who was over fifty years old and had gray hair, was accompanied by only three nurses (two of whom were temporary helpers recruited from the town).
They were so busy they barely had time to breathe.
Disinfecting, stopping the bleeding, removing the bullet, suturing the wounds—but there were simply too many injured people to handle.
A middle-aged woman knelt beside her husband, holding his gradually cooling hand, tears streaming down her face.
The man had been shot in the chest; his breathing was so weak it was almost inaudible.
Such situations were commonplace, and a somber atmosphere spread through the crowd.
After Sheeta arrived on the street with Dola's Gang, she immediately joined in the help.
She imitated the woman next to her, soaking a strip of cloth in hot water and cleaning the wound of a miner who had been slashed by a bayonet.
But when she touched the torn and bleeding wound, she felt a churning in her stomach.
Although she had seen villagers slaughter chickens and cattle before, this was the first time she had ever witnessed such horrific human trauma, and the girl's face turned deathly pale.
"Child, go and rest for a while. Leave this to me."
Upon seeing this, a stout, kind-faced woman nearby immediately took the strip of cloth from her hand and quickly began to clean the wound.
Sheeta bit her lip and stepped aside, leaning against the brick wall on the side of the street.
Someone glanced at her discreetly and recognized her as the girl the soldiers had shown in the photos.
But no one spoke out against her, no one even glanced at her; the townspeople simply continued with their work in silence.
They knew that this had nothing to do with Sheeta; it wasn't her fault.
It was this tolerance that brought tears to Sheeta's eyes.
They themselves attracted those soldiers, causing these kind people to be injured and bleed.
But she couldn't do anything; she was even clumsy at bandaging wounds and only made things worse.
" Sheeta?"
When Pazu ran over, he saw the girl's reddened eyes and tightly clenched lips, and suddenly felt a pang of heartache.
"What happened to you? Are you hurt?"
Sheeta shook her head, her voice choked with emotion. "It's all my fault—if it weren't for me, none of this would have happened—"
"Don't talk nonsense," Pazu interrupted her. "The ones who are wrong are the bastards who break into people's homes, steal, and shoot, not you."
He placed his hands on the girl's shoulders, looked at her intently, and his eyes were full of sincerity.
"See, nobody blames you, right? That's how people in Valley Town are; they help whoever's in trouble."
"So you don't need to take all the responsibility upon yourself. What we need to do now is think about how to help everyone."
Pazu's resolute gaze reassured Sheeta somewhat.
"But how can we help? There are so many seriously injured people, the clinic simply can't handle it all, if this continues—"
She didn't finish her sentence, but the meaning was already clear.
Pazu pondered for a moment, then looked at the girl's pocket.
Sheeta seemed to understand something and immediately took out the Golden Seed.
"My Lord, you can surely heal these people easily, right?"
"Although I don't quite understand what you mean by proselytizing, as long as you can demonstrate your divine power as before, the people of the town will be eternally grateful to you!"