Let go of that monster girl!

"That's normal. I didn't have high hopes either. After all, that guy wasn't exactly mentally sound to begin with. Did the state religion silence that dragon?"

The Queen glanced at it a few times, placed the file in a more conspicuous position, lowered her head again, and continued to write on the previous document.

A smile appeared in Chesie's single eye, and she uttered the words she had been preparing for a long time:

"That's what's interesting. She was killed by a human and a bunch of rat girls, with almost no magic."

"Humans? Rat girls? Are the Rune Workshop and Alchemist's Guild involved?"

The Queen stopped writing.

"nothing."

She raised her eyes and became serious for the first time.

The Queen took the dossier and read every line carefully from beginning to end, her brows furrowing and relaxing at times, before finally a smile appeared on her lips.

After a while, she put down the file, her little fingers still stroking the handsome portrait of a man with black hair and black eyes.

"Your name is Moron? That's interesting, really interesting. He might even be more interesting than that dragon. Let me think about it."

Then she leaned back in her chair, stretched her arms, and asked in a slightly more relaxed tone:

"That's the bad news. Now, what's the good news?"

"Good news."

A rare, gentle smile, devoid of harshness, appeared in Chesie's single chestnut eye. She picked up the sugar cube bread from the paper bag and handed it over.

"The good news is that I brought you your favorite sugar cubes."

The gray-haired mouse girl gave a bitter smile, extended her right hand (which was not pricked with needles), and took the sugar cube bread.

"Okay, I was even hoping something good would actually happen today..."

"Thanks, Cheshire..."

The bread was still slightly warm, and the sugar cubes on its surface shimmered with tiny sparkles.

This simple little food, with its simple sweetness, is a little secret known only to her and the few remaining companions in the small village.

She was, after all, a rat girl.

She was, after all, just a rat girl.

The sugar cube bread was eaten bit by bit.

After a long while, having swallowed the last bite of bread, the gray-haired mouse girl rubbed her dark circles, picked up her pen again, transformed back into the queen, and slowly said:

"The gods will not wait."

"The destruction of the moon is imminent."

"We must be prepared."

"At all costs."

Chapter 129 (4k) The Aftermath of the Low Hill

In the open space outside the camp, several mice squatted in the mud, with a row of small figurines made of wet mud in front of them.

The mud dragon was the biggest, as big as the little mouse girl's two fists. The scales on its body were carefully carved out with pebbles. Although it was ugly, it was indeed made with great care.

Next to it was a row of clay figurines, slightly shorter than the dragon, with round, chubby bodies, short, thick limbs, and two small pebbles pressed onto their heads as eyes.

At the very back was a clay figure no bigger than a thumb, made with the most care and even somewhat handsome features. However, the clay figure's legs were too thin, and it was propped up by a small stone to prevent it from falling over.

"The dragon is coming! Squeak! Boom! Boom!"

A small mouse carrying a mud dragon charged towards the clay figure array, making various simulated explosion sounds, and knocked down three clay figures in a row.

"The knight golems are all destroyed."

The mice cheered.

"Next up is the little man and the dragon fighting."

"The villain wins!"

"Dragon wins!"

"The little man wins! The dragon shattered in the end!"

"Long wins! Long is incredibly powerful!"

Unable to reach a conclusion, the mice quickly rolled into a ball, and the mud dragon and mud puppet were all flattened.

The remaining mouse, holding the thumb-sized clay figure, stood by, watching them fight with a blank expression. Its round ears twitched left and right before it silently put the clay figure into its pocket.

A long queue formed at the camp entrance.

The rats stood obediently in a row, occasionally peeking ahead on tiptoe, their tails swaying nervously from side to side behind them.

Sulfur sat in front of the registration desk, along with two mouse girls assisting her. In front of them was a stack of sharpened wooden plaques and a can of black ink with an exceptionally foul smell. They were using a small brush to paint names onto the wooden plaques.

"Next, state your name."

"Um, my name is Hyacinth, I used to sell grilled insect skewers at the new market."

"You can bake things, right? I've noted it down. Hyacinth 143, next."

"My name is Hyacinth, and I can't make a sound."

"It's okay, Hyacinth144, go move bricks."

"squeak……"

"Next person."

"My name is also Hyacinth."

With this wooden plaque bearing your name, you can get a job from the foreman rat with the big brass horn, followed by a family's food rations and a few candies.

The rats, who had just emerged from the ruins, were completely bewildered by their current situation. But the warmth and peace they had enjoyed for such a short time were hardly real to a little rat.

Whether it was a beautiful dream or a nightmare, they felt an almost humble gratitude for this brief respite.

Now, the dream is over.

"Am I really awake...?"

"It's sugar cubes! It's so sweet!"

"Ouch, who pulled my tail!"

"If it hurts, then you should wake up."

Moren glanced at the rat girl who was chasing after the other party, trying to drag her back, and then looked at the refugees in other districts.

Unlike the rats who sang in the mines, the refugees of other races seemed somewhat lifeless and dejected.

The rabbit girls huddled motionless in the corner of the tent, the fox girls sat on the ground with their heads down, lost in thought, while the cat girls were quite optimistic, meowing and helping while also causing trouble.

Rats are easily satisfied and easily forgetful, which may not be a good quality, but at least for now, it saves Moran a little trouble.

"Sigh, this is really going to be a tough problem for me."

Molen stood in front of the higher tent, took out his binoculars and held them up to his eyes.

The newly established camp sprang up haphazardly on the sunless plain, with tents and illegal structures built from various materials scattered haphazardly, resembling a large cluster of mushrooms that had suddenly sprung up when viewed from above.

Further out lies a dangerous, lightless wilderness, pitch black and silent, where occasionally something's eye emits an ominous glint in the darkness.

Further away are the ruins of the Dragon's Nest. The collapsed city remains conspicuous in the darkness, and the banners of the Exterminator Army camp, which surrounds the entire ruins, flutter in the wind.

The knight golem was digging in the ruins, its huge iron arm grabbing large chunks of decaying blood and broken stones and throwing them aside. Even from this distance, the murky, yellowish-brown wall of dust could be seen.

Molen put away his binoculars.

I've been witnessing so many spectacular events lately that I've been taking out my binoculars an unusually large number of times.

In the past few days.

Whether it was genuine or not, the Exterminator Army gave Morren a hero's welcome, but Morren still politely declined their suggestion to the Queen to change his territory.

After some routine toasts and drinks, the Exterminators occupied and sealed off the entire ruins of the Dragon's Nest, and took away the remaining cultists, who have been digging endlessly in the ruins, seemingly searching for something.

Whatever they're looking for, they haven't found it yet.

The refugees were released after the cardinal glanced at them.

Molen has secured a market management license, along with headaches from a series of hangovers and this very thorny problem at hand.

Too many people.

If it were in the low mountains, this wouldn't be a problem, but the low mountains are 100 kilometers away from here in a straight line, and the track of the Mouse Girl train is also more than 60 kilometers away from here.

Very, very far.

Based on the number of small wooden signs that have already been distributed, and compared with the areas where they have not yet been distributed, the estimated number of refugees remaining in the entire new market may be as high as 3000!

Three thousand refugees, with no fighting ability, no infrastructure, and no supplies of their own, were simply thrown into a dark wasteland devoid of natural resources.

This is not a rich and warm subtropical forest; the chimeric forest of the low hills does not extend far here.

Besides the Ant Girl, other monsters from the Dark Zone may visit at any time!

Without food, it's eternal night.

If Molen makes one wrong move, the place will immediately turn into a buffet.

Even Molen couldn't possibly organize the rats' large-scale migration of hundreds of kilometers. Such a large group of rat girls without any protection would be nothing more than a delicious snack on the dark wasteland.

Moreover, looking at the long term, Morren also has his own selfish motives.

Among the 3000 refugees, many are not Rat Girls, which will have a significant impact on the fragile order of Dwarf Mountain.

After the destruction of the new market, it is essential for Dwarf Mountain to establish its own commercial center in the north of the Dark Zone, and a new camp with a sufficient population is necessary.

After careful consideration, Molen ultimately decided to settle the refugees on the spot.

In short, let them stay here for now and wait for the Mouse Girl train tracks to be built to the north.

Fortunately, he had the airship, a cheat-level artifact. Morren had joked before that he didn't want to go grocery shopping in a vehicle that might explode every two weeks, but these past few days he had to keep the airship traveling back and forth between the low mountain and the northern camp.

Boxes of tents, boxes of supplies, boxes of warm blankets and clothing were brought to the new camp.

However, this is not a long-term solution, as airships are not something that can operate safely for extended periods.

In a dark area where it is impossible to grow any crops, the new camp cannot receive unlimited supplies from the low mountains.

Fortunately, Moran had planned for this before setting off.

Moreover, he unexpectedly received some assistance.

"What's with that expression? What, are you unhappy that I'm willing to help?"

His voice was very irritable. Morren put away his binoculars, turned to face the short, white-haired, red-eyed rat girl, and humbly bowed to this esteemed person.

"How could I dare? Your Excellency is so grateful and flattered that you would spare the time to help me."

It's not entirely a lie, after all, Morren's camp design was indeed focused on ensuring no rats died.

Moreover, the identity of the person opposite him almost scared him to tears.

Inside the noble tent high above, beside Morren, a white-haired, red-eyed cardinal dressed in a blood-red robe lay sprawled on an exceptionally large map.

Two little hands each hold a different colored chalk, writing and drawing on the map.

The Cardinal of the State Religion, the most esteemed Cardinal of the State Religion.

Her height meant she had to stand on a chair, tiptoeing, to barely reach the center of the map. Her round, mouse-like ears swayed back and forth with the movement of her arms, and her tail, hanging outside the chair, swayed from side to side.

"What kind of camp layout is this? The tents are pitched like scattered beans, with absolutely no defensive depth. What direction is this? It's a plain, right? Putting the toilet upwind, are you trying to make the monsters stink to death?"

The chalk drew red lines on the map.

"And here, the water storage point is set up on the outermost edge. Are you afraid that the monsters will be thirsty and have no water to drink? Move it to the center, surround it, and separate it with mud walls."

"This patrol route is also drawn haphazardly, there are too many overlapping areas, and the south side is a complete blind spot. We need to redraw it."

With each sentence she spoke, she changed a spot on the map, and in less than fifteen minutes, the entire map was covered with dense red markings.

Molen stood by and watched, offering a sincere compliment.

"Your understanding of camp defense is truly unfathomable."