Let go of that monster girl!

Tin foil had never seen such a territory, nor such a baron.

The knight lady is nowhere to be seen, but the baron is always walking around the mine entrance and the city walls, covered in dust and mingling with the rats.

Cannons, ore rails, and that magical thing called "electricity," along with those alchemical terms that tin foil couldn't understand at all—each one was exceptionally bizarre.

Although the food was terrible, there was sugar—sugar that the barons somehow conjured up.

The sweet taste reminded her of those sweet days.

Tin foil looked at the countless brands around him.

But with so many brands, how much bitterness lies behind this sweetness that she doesn't know about...?

"Make way! Make way!"

A bunch of female mice came over from the other side of the fence, squeaking and chattering, carrying pliers.

Tin foil pulled alum aside, and before they could even ask a question, the group of rat girls had already started tearing down the sign right in front of them without saying a word.

The pliers clicked and swished, and one sign after another was removed and tossed into the basket.

"The Baron told everyone to put up the signs, but he forgot to tell everyone to take them down."

The rat girl muttered to herself as she worked, taking down the signs.

Whose brand is this?

"Wait for the rat with that name to come and claim it!"

Under the stunned gaze of the foil, the mournful sign corridor quickly shortened considerably.

The little wooden sign with the square sun painted on it was also taken down and handed to a little mouse that was still eating candy.

-----------------

The fox-spirit nun stood beside the cult's camp tents outside the wall, pulling open a bulging cloth bag.

Inside, a large bag was filled with sugar cubes and various trinkets, both valuable and worthless.

A few copper coins, a small roll of colored thread, a few inlaid animal teeth, and a gold coin that had been touched until it shone.

Of course, the most abundant item was sugar cubes, piled up in a whole bag of white ones.

The snake-woman nun stood to the side, her hands clasped together, her tail swaying, her expression solemn.

“The sacred texts say that a saint does not take ill-gotten gains.”

"Then you can keep gnawing on the chimeric jerky, I'm going to eat my Unjust Candy."

The fox-spirit nun grabbed a few sugar cubes from the bag, popped them into her mouth, crunched them up, and squinted her golden eyes contentedly.

This is candy, sweet candy.

In the vast majority of settlements in the dark zone, people are still struggling to find food and are just grateful if they don't starve to death. This low hill actually has so much sugar available every day.

It's strange, they don't grow anything else besides mushrooms.

Even in her sun-drenched homeland in the East, a fox like her wouldn't have white rice to eat.

Not to mention anything sweet.

Her mother taught her from a young age that sweets hurt teeth and that only big shots with black hair were worthy of eating them.

She didn't believe it and secretly ate the master's dessert.

Sure enough, six of her teeth were knocked out. Luckily, she was only four years old at the time, and her teeth could be replaced.

Speaking of which, Baron Morren also has black hair. They really are all important figures.

The snake-woman nun lowered her clasped hands and asked in a refined manner:

"When shall we set off to return to the Holy Maiden and report back?"

The fox-spirit nun threw another sugar cube into her mouth.

"No rush. The Baron has already agreed to meet the Saintess at the New Market. He can just take us with him. We've been traveling for over ten days on our own, and we're exhausted. They have airships."

The fox-spirit nun spread her fingers and drew an arc in the air, mimicking the motion of flight.

"Airship, alas!"

Besides, she hasn't won all the sugar cubes from the hill yet.

The fox-spirit nun raised her head with a smile, but suddenly, the smile vanished from her face.

A dozen or so figures were stumbling and staggering across the wasteland in front of the low hill.

They were all rat girls, covered in wounds and dressed in rags.

One of them had lost both legs and was being carried on the back of another rat girl who was even shorter than her, with pus seeping out from the strips of cloth.

"Is it really a low hill?"

"The hill is really still there?!"

Chapter 73 The Disaster Moon Beyond the Low Mountain

The refugee rats squatted in the makeshift resettlement area on the hilltop, wolfing down their nutritious porridge.

The spoon had long been thrown aside; the tongue was much faster than the spoon.

When the refugee rats raised their heads, their mouths were covered in a brownish-yellow paste.

The dwarf mountain rats, carrying bandages and disinfectant, squatted beside the refugee rat with two missing legs, carefully unwrapping the blackened, dirty cloth covering the severed areas.

As soon as the cloth strip was lifted, the wound underneath was exposed, and white, shards of bone poked out from the festering flesh.

The surrounding skin was swollen and purple, and pus mixed with blood seeped from the gaps in the rotting flesh.

The mouse girl was so startled that she leaned back, almost dropping the bandage in her hand.

"Where did you come from?" one of the rat girls asked.

One of the refugee rats put down the plate and wiped its mouth with the back of its hand.

"To the north, Berry Village."

“Before the month of disaster, two nuns and a tall woman who looked very strange came and said they could take us to the new market, saying it was safe there.”

"Some mice agreed and followed along."

"Some mice were afraid it was a bad idea from the fox, so they didn't follow."

The dwarf mountain rats exchanged glances, but none of them spoke to ask any further questions.

Molen stood to one side with his hands in his pockets.

"Is it that berry village that produces clay?"

"Yes, Your Excellency."

A dwarf mountain mouse was using a cotton cloth soaked in mouse-specific medicine to clean the scratches on the head of another refugee mouse, who squeaked in pain.

Berry Village.

This is not within the territory of Aishanling.

It is located more than 30 kilometers north of the Dwarf Mountain Territory. The former duke was a hyena girl who was known for her extremely strong tastes.

The area of ​​the Mouse Girl Kingdom plunged into darkness covers nearly a quarter of its entire territory, with Dwarf Mountain Territory being just a tiny, insignificant part of it.

When the darkness began to spread, most of the noble ladies immediately abandoned the land they were so proud of, leaving behind only endless wastelands and refugees left to fend for themselves.

"Did you spend the previous month of calamity hiding inside a pottery furnace?"

The refugee rat grunted and lowered its head to lick the remaining paste from the edge of the plate.

The dwarf mountain rat poked its head out.

"Would you like some more?"

"No need, you must be experiencing a famine too."

"Ah, this porridge really is awful, but we have as much as you want here, do you want some?"

"want!"

A long time ago, Morren visited Berry Village.

As its name suggests, Berry Village is famous throughout the South for its berry wines.

To store these fine wines, exquisite pottery and stained glass bottles are also their signature products.

On sunny days, the rat girls were busy around the kiln, and the streets were lined with pottery blanks drying in the sun. The air was filled with the mixed scents of earth and fruit.

Unfortunately, that's all in the past now.

A muffled propeller sound came from overhead.

The airship slowly descended to the mountaintop.

The flying mouse poked its head out from the deck and shouted down.

"Help! Quick, quick!"

The mouse girls ran from all directions to the airship and peeked onto the deck on tiptoe.

The rat girls running ahead all changed their expressions drastically, covered their mouths, and turned their heads away, not daring to look anymore. The most timid one immediately lay on the ground and started gagging.

The deck was covered with rat girls from Berry Village.

Severely malnourished, its eyes are even unable to look directly at the fluorite lantern.

The slightest noise would send them shivering, causing them to curl up into a ball, their round ears pressed tightly against the sides of their heads.

The condition of the wounded was even more terrifying.

Most of them lay on makeshift stretchers made of planks and ropes, some with missing limbs, some pale from blood loss, and some with swollen, suppurating wounds twice their normal size, all crammed together.

The navigation mouse walked to Morren's side and reported in a low voice:

"The village was completely destroyed, and only these rats are left."

A refugee rat, helped to sit up, began to speak:

"Just like we did during the previous disaster month, we sealed the pottery furnace from the beginning and hid inside with dry rations."

"But most of the stoves are too short."

Upon hearing this, the dwarf mountain rats almost simultaneously conjured up the same image in their minds.

A vast ocean of blood and flesh surged in from all directions, completely submerging the low-lying pottery furnace under a pool of scarlet pus.

During that long and terrible time, the rat girls hiding in the furnace could only watch helplessly as the scarlet liquid slowly seeped in little by little from the cracks in the bricks and the sealant.

Several short mountain mouse girls covered their mouths.

A short, mountain rat girl crouched down and took the hand of the refugee rat in front of her.

"It's all over. We'll be safe once we reach the low hill."

Another short mountain mouse girl stood up and quickly greeted:

"I'll go get a basin of water and wipe all this dirt off."

Molen stood to the side, watching the groaning Berry Village wounded on stretchers, his expression darkening.

The mouse girls believe that eating a piece of candy will make sad things go away.

A festering wound will heal once it is cleaned.

But this pus is just the surface; their blood is full of bacteria that are constantly gnawing at their internal organs and flesh.

If the infection progresses to this stage, sepsis may break out at any time, high fever can damage the brain, and organs will fail one by one. Even if you are lucky enough to survive the infection, the necrotic tissue will continue to spread.

They couldn't have survived without antibiotics.

But there are no antibiotics in the low hills.

"Call Lyme and those nuns over."

After the time it takes to eat several meals.

Lyme crouched down beside a wounded rat. She looked up at Morren for a moment before mustering her courage, folding her hands together, and placing them on the rat's wound.

Light green slime seeped from the palm of his hand, slowly seeping into the festering wound.