Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 73 Refugees
The raging fire was finally extinguished, and large patches of snow were burned away, revealing scorched earth.

The lights of the steam tractor flickered as people worked hard to load supplies onto carts.

A section of the track has been cleared, and an ordinary wheeled cart has been placed on it.

It was an ordinary flatbed cart made of double-layered steel plates, with ten pairs of wheels underneath. Aldridge had cast many weight-reducing, stabilizing, and shock-absorbing runes between the layers.

The train's wheels were definitely unusable, and even the carriages were twisted into pieces of steel by a strange force. Only some of the supplies inside could be salvaged.

The Red Mercury carriage, due to its abundant divine power, was unaffected by the moment the apocalypse arrived, but unfortunately, only one remains.

Using pulleys and winches on a tractor, along with manual labor, people finally managed to load the last of the red mercury onto the cart.

The other carriages contained winter clothing, weapons and equipment, food, and various miscellaneous tools. The food and miscellaneous carriages were severely damaged in the fire.

“Hexagonal rifles, crank-type rotary machine guns, Caster rifles… oh, and the Church’s Holy Judgment Type VII!” Kyle excitedly ran his fingers over the firearms. Although they had been frozen in the snow for twelve days, they were still usable as long as they were carefully thawed and re-oiled.

He happily pulled out a church rifle, which used mercury instead of gunpowder, and worked on a similar principle to an air gun.

Mercury boils at 50°C and releases high-pressure gas, so only a drop of the liquid is needed to propel a bullet to an astonishing rate of fire.

"Kyle! Don't just stand there! Come and move the stuff!" Mathilde shouted, her body steaming with white vapor and blood flowing through her veins. She could carry four large boxes of winter clothes by herself.

"Coming!" he quickly put down his gun and replied.

The work continued until evening, when the carts were completely filled, the rune arrays emitted a faint glow under the influence of divine power, and the five tractors were in place, all of them even infused with red mercury.

It must be said that the red mercury reactor is indeed much better than the traditional coal-fired reactor. There is no thick smoke emitted, and it starts and stops very quickly. Controlling the energy only requires adjusting the gas valve.

Moreover, all the runes on the tractor lit up, like fireflies flickering in the night.

The V-shaped heavy snowplow on the front of the car can easily clear the snow off the tracks. The remaining snow is then cleared a second time by the roller snow sweeper on the following cars. Then, car number three is responsible for clearing obstacles in detail, while preventing problems such as track breakage and fragility.

In the rearview mirror, Aldridge signaled the start of the vehicle with three green lights, indicating that they had completed the mounting process and were ready to start.

But just then, they saw light in the distance.

There was the light of torches, the light of gas lamps, and the light of magic.

Someone's there!
In such snowy weather, the people there are either refugees or other exploration teams, perhaps drawn by the fire and thunderstorm.

With civilization severely damaged, Xiren can't expect everyone to be benevolent, but their vehicles and supplies are here, and they can't go far anytime soon.

So he opened the car door, and the [Divine Art: Radiance] spell in his right hand shone with dazzling light—with the blessing of the three sacred relics, even this most basic independent divine art was no longer ordinary.

The others also quickly got out of the car, armed with guns, ready for battle.

As if they had found a lighthouse, the torches slowly surged toward them. By this time, the sun had almost set, and with the last bit of light piercing through the clouds, Xilun saw people.

A lot of people.

They resembled a swarm of black rats or hurried migratory birds, wrapped in clothes, blankets, carpets, curtains, and scraps of cloth—anything that could keep them warm—and dragging suitcases or two-wheeled vehicles behind them.

Frost and snowflakes clung to everyone's faces, and the extreme cold, like death itself, walked among them, cruelly reaping each life. A few people held torches, gazing expectantly into the distance.

They got closer.

"Arthur, fire the gun," Siron suddenly said.

"Ah! Yes!" Arthur quickly pulled the trigger and fired a shot into the air.

The loud gunshot startled people, and many instinctively crouched down. The cries of several babies rang out.

“We mean no harm!” one of them shouted at the top of his lungs. “Listen! We are refugees from Newport! People in front! We mean no harm!”

The man's hands shimmered with the light of divine magic.

Xilun shouted, "Come forward alone!"

The figure hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked over in the wind and snow.

He was wrapped in a thick coat and wore a small black woolen hat, making it impossible to see his exact appearance.

As he walked, he shouted, "I am Father Green of St. John's Cathedral! Newport is gone! I've gotten lost here while leading refugees!"

He finally reached Xilun with great difficulty, several guns pointed at him, his face, covered in wounds and cracks from the cold, wore a sincere expression.

His lips and cheeks were like cracked earth, with deep furrows crisscrossing his slightly young face, but no blood flowed out, because even the wounds had been frozen, and frost and icicles covered his face.

Siron relaxed a bit: "I am Siron Delland, Bishop of the Diocese of Speyside. What happened in Newport?"

Grimm's face showed pain and lingering fear: "The frost giants broke through there, and the Second Royal Navy was wiped out. Behind me... were the last people in Newport. The bishop and the archmage covered our retreat and that's how we escaped."

"Before we set off, the bishop told us to head northwest to find the nearest refuge, Speyside, but we got lost... Duke Hastings and his guards left first, saying they would call for us once they found it..."

Xilun glanced behind him; thousands of civilians stood there silently, their expressions a numbness and fear, utterly defeated by suffering.

"Is there any evidence?" he asked.

“Yes, yes!” Green quickly pulled a metal ring from his pocket. “This is Bishop Karl’s authority ring.”

Xiren looked at it—it was an alloy ring set with sapphires, engraved with anchors and gears, with the inscription on the back: “When you walk, the sea will not overwhelm you.”

"How many of you are there?" he asked, casually shoving the ring back into Green's hand.

Green paused for a moment, then quickly put it back in his pocket: "Three thousand and fifty-two people, Your Excellency."

"How is your prestige among them?"

"Uh... it's alright, isn't it? After all, I've been leading them all the way."

“Go and bring out the injured and those who can’t walk,” Xiren said.

(End of this chapter)