I'm really not a Sanctuary Warlock.

Lynn wasn't in a hurry to tease her.

Some things are better left unchecked.

What happened last night is enough to make her digest it for a while.

“Your Highness Anna,” Lynn said, breaking the silence.

"Ok?"

"Where exactly do we go after we arrive in the Duchy of Toussaint?"

Do you know anyone over there?

Anna was silent for a few seconds, then gently shook her head.

"No."

"What will we do after we get there?" Lynn asked, somewhat surprised. "We can't just find a place to stay once we reach the border."

“It’s not just any random thing,” Anna said calmly. “We’re going to Holy Song City.”

"Holy Song City?"

“Once upon a time, a traveler passed by the church in Windbreak City.” Anna tilted her head slightly, gazing at the blurry horizon in the distance. “He said that the Holy Song City of the Duchy of Toussaint was a good place.”

"A good place? What makes it good?"

“Holy Song City welcomes all races.” Anna’s tone was calm, but Lynn could hear the longing in her voice. “Humans, elves, dwarves, orcs… any outsider can establish their home there.”

She paused.

"Very large, very harmonious, very free."

Hearing those three words from Anna's mouth inexplicably made Lynn feel a pang of sadness.

Because he knew all too well about Anna's past.

From the massacre in the small village to the exploitation in the church orphanage, and then to the shackles of her saintly identity, Anna has lived her whole life without ever having tasted the meaning of "freedom."

She remembered a few words from a traveler for so many years.

“Sounds good.” Lynn suppressed his emotions and tried to sound relaxed. “Then let’s go to Holy Song City.”

Anna didn't turn around, but Lynn could feel that Anna's body, which was leaning against his chest, relaxed slightly.

Although Lisa had been silent the whole time, her ears were clearly not idle. When she heard about Holy Song City, a glint of light flashed in her eyes.

A place that doesn't care about status or background.

For them, it certainly seemed like a good home.

"How long will it take to get to the border?" Lynn asked.

“If nothing unexpected happens, it will take about seven to eight days,” Anna replied. “After crossing the Mang Plains in the southern border of Orentia and then the Boundary Ridge, we will reach the territory of the Duchy of Toussaint.”

What if something unexpected happens?

"That's hard to say."

Fine.

Lynn was already used to the "unexpected" things in this world.

Since he transmigrated, he hasn't had a single day of peace.

The three continued south along the road.

As noon approached, the sun's rays grew increasingly intense, and Lynn felt himself being baked dry. Just as he was about to ask Anna for some water, he saw a group of people appear on the road ahead.

More accurately, it was a long queue.

Men, women, the elderly, and children, with their families in tow, trudged forward.

They were dressed in rags, their faces were withered, and their eyes were filled with numbness and exhaustion.

Some people walked barefoot, their soles blistered and bleeding; some carried tattered bundles almost as big as themselves on their backs; and some carried thin, bony children, walking forward in silence.

Their direction was opposite to that of Lynn and his group.

Anna's body tensed instantly.

"Stop."

Lynn reined in the unicorn.

Lisa stopped too, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of the sword at her waist.

Anna got off the unicorn and stopped a middle-aged man walking at the front.

"Where do you come from?"

The middle-aged man raised his head, his cloudy eyes revealing little emotion.

Toussaint.

Lynn's heart skipped a beat.

Anna's expression didn't change, but her question came out a beat faster.

What happened?

“Plague.” The man’s voice was hoarse. “Northern Toussaint…the plague is everywhere. The city gates are closed, the villages are sealed off, no one is allowed in or out…we barely managed to escape.”

"The north?" Anna frowned slightly. "What about other places? The south?"

The man gave a bitter smile, a smile that revealed unspeakable despair.

"The south? I heard the situation is even worse in the south. People who fled from the south all say, never go south." The man shook his head, said no more, and continued walking north with heavy steps.

The long line, like a gray river, flowed slowly past Anna.

No one speaks.

There were only footsteps and the occasional faint cry of a baby.

Anna stood there, watching the refugees walk past her one by one.

Lynn was watching too.

He noticed that some of the refugees had dark purple spots on their faces and arms, spreading like mold. They also walked strangely and occasionally coughed violently, coughing up blackish substances.

This plague does not appear to be simple.

It took the group a long time to finally pass by.

Anna slowly turned around and walked back to the unicorn.

Her expression was calm, but Lynn, who had known her for so long, could see the turmoil beneath her calm exterior.

“They’re going to the city of Orentia,” Lisa finally spoke, her tone grave.

Anna was silent for a few seconds, then gently shook her head.

"When faced with refugees who may be carrying the plague, the first reaction of any city is to close its gates."

She paused.

"If the refugees force their way in..."

She didn't finish speaking.

But Lynn and Lisa both understood.

The city gate guards showed no mercy.

When it comes to survival, compassion is a luxury, especially since the Kingdom of Orentia has never been exactly friendly to outsiders.

“Then they…” Lisa’s voice was a little strained.

“Unless a city is willing to take them in,” Anna said softly, “but given the ways of the lords of Orentia…”

She shook her head again.

Will not.

No one would risk the spread of the plague by opening the city gates.

These ragged refugees, having trekked thousands of miles from Toussaint to Orentia, were unlikely to be met with relief and acceptance.

Instead, they were cold arrows.

Lisa bit her lower lip. She wanted to say something, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

Because she knew that what Anna said was true.

A silence fell between the three of them.

Lynn was the first to break it.

"Your Highness Anna," his voice was steady, "Given the current situation in Toussaint... should we still go?"

This is a very direct and very real issue.

Anna looked up and glanced at Lynn.

Then her gaze passed over Lynn and looked south.

"go."

"I have to go."

Her tone showed no hesitation.

Lynn was silent for a moment.

He looked into Anna's eyes, and in those beautiful eyes, there was no fear, no hesitation, only something he knew very well.

That is obsession.

Holy Song City.

That city that travelers described as large, harmonious, and free.

That may be more than just a location.

For Anna, that was the last sanctuary in her heart.

A place she believes, or rather, is willing to believe exists.

From childhood to adulthood, she has never had a "home" that truly belongs to her.

Her village was massacred, the church ate people, Windbreak City could not tolerate her, and the Kingdom of Orentia could not tolerate her either.

The City of Sacred Songs might be her only remaining hope.

Even if the news coming from that direction is terrible.

Lynn didn't ask any more questions.

He simply reached out and pulled Anna back onto the unicorn.

"Then let's keep going."

Anna sat in front of him, leaning slightly against his chest.

"Ah."

The unicorn took another step and ran south.

Lisa spurred her horse to catch up. She glanced at Anna's back, a hint of heartache flashing in her eyes, but she quickly composed herself, gripped the reins tightly, and silently stood guard to her side.

We walked for about two more hours.

The sun began to move westward, and the heat subsided slightly.

Another group of refugees appeared on the road ahead.

This time, there were even more people.

There was a dense, dark mass of people, easily over a hundred.

This time, however, arguments broke out within the team.

Lynn frowned.

In the middle of the group of refugees ahead, a man dressed in simple iron armor was shoving and jostling with several refugees. He held a curved knife in his hand, the blade stained with dark red ink that had not yet dried.

Behind him stood five or six armed men dressed similarly.