Someone comes, some people are leaving.

The Telton Khan Court was destroyed less than ten days ago, and the remaining enemies have not been completely wiped out, but many civilians who fled were eager to embark on the way home.

On the big and small roads between Zhongtiefeng County and Xiatiefeng County, groups of men, women, elderly people and children trek hard to the direction of their homes.

Their houses may have been burned to ashes, and the food in their cellars may have been robbed. No one can tell why they are in a hurry to return home.

Perhaps everyone has a faint and clear voice in their hearts: "As long as you go home, there is always a way."

In addition to the people returning home, a considerable number of people chose to stay in St. C.

Most of the people who stayed were young and strong, and most of them were "militia", and many of them participated in previous wars.

Although the war was over and the militia troops were officially disbanded, many militia were still stranded in the military camp and unwilling to leave.

Because as long as you stay for one day, you can eat at least two meals a day.

But there is probably another reason why the militia stayed.

"Before the sovereign war, Venetta's large and small commercial city-states relied on mercenaries to fight." Antonio slowly said: "There is a common situation in the mercenary group. Although many veterans cursed and fought, they stayed in the corps all their lives. Some veterans saved enough money to remove their armor and return to the field, and eventually returned to the battlefield. No one can tell the reason clearly."

Antonio continued to explain: "Comradeship is an indescribable thing. People who have faced death side by side will naturally have a bond. I have seen soldiers abandon their wounded companions and rescue their comrades without hesitation. Whether this bond is strong or weak, it really exists. Many veterans do not want to talk about the cruel battles they have experienced, but they miss the days they have lived with their brothers in the same tent."

"That's why I said that although your troops are training and equipment are bad, they are very energetic." Antonio looked at Winters: "It is not an army that hates each other, ends up with a slight push, and will collapse. Weapons can be bought and skills can be practiced, but if an army has no soul, it is not. It would be a pity to disband like this."

...

Not only were some people choosing to stay, but more hungry people were gathering in the town of St. C. from all directions.

Women, children, patients, disabled people... all kinds of people have only one thing in common, that is, they all have nothing because of the destruction of war.

As the base camp and baggage accumulation land of the Iron Peak County army, St. C. Town stores a large amount of food and supplies.

Driven by hunger, these poor people set up tents outside the town of St. C., wandering around the barracks and towns every day, looking for something to fill their stomachs from the cracks that leaked from the fingers of the army.

It was at this time that a short, unpretentious man came to the monkey and Doug in the barracks.

"Why haven't you two come home yet?" The short man smiled shyly and handed over a paper bag of oily relish: "Do you eat scones?"

Doug took the paper bag and did not open it, but stared at the short man in confusion.

"Who the hell are you?" the sleepy monkey poked his head out of the tent and asked with a bad face.

The short man quickly explained: "I just want to ask why you two don't go home."

"Do you care about it?" The monkey took the paper bag from Doug's hand, opened it and saw that it was an oil cake, and immediately swallowed it: "What's your business?"

The short man licked his lips and raised his courage to ask, "Are you two homeless? Are you both dead? They have no house or land, so there is nowhere to go?"

The pain was poked and the monkey's anger suddenly rushed up.

He jumped out of the tent, grabbed the short man's clothes, and cursed fiercely: "You're looking for a fucking beating!"

"No, no, no." The short man shook his head desperately: "Everyone with a family and a house has left, so I want to ask if you two have no place to go."

The monkey screamed in anger, and raised his arm and swung it towards the other person's face.

The short man subconsciously protected his head, shrank his neck, and closed his eyes tightly.

Doug grabbed his friend's arm and separated the two of them with his body. He asked the shorter man: "Is there anything you have?"

The short man, who was still in shock, felt a fond of the silly young man who saved his thick lips. He stuttered and explained: "Lu Xirong said you two are pretty good, so I'll come to see you."

Lucirong was previously a sergeant of Monkey and Doug.

Hearing this name, the monkey's attitude softened suddenly and even became a little timid: "Sergeant Luxi Vengeance... who are you?"

The short man replied embarrassedly: "It's my subordinate."

The monkey's knees were a little sore and his head seemed to be hit by someone with an iron bone, buzzing.

Doug grabbed his friend and asked the shorter man in silence: "Is there anything wrong with you coming to us?"

"I just want to ask you two." The short man scratched the back of his head: "Since there is no place to go, are you willing to join the army? It's not a militia, but a real field-giving soldier from the Infantry Regiment of the Tiefeng County."

The monkey's body was stiff, his jaw was trembling, and he couldn't help swallowing a mouthful of saliva.

Doug frowned and asked, "Who are you?"

"Me?" the short man replied: "My name is Peter Bunier."

He said with a little pride: "The tail name of Bunier was given to me by Lord Blood Wolf himself."

The monkey rose from the tailbone and stood up straight with a chill, "One thousand acres?! You are one thousand acres?! The blood wolf champion who was said to have won the prize of one thousand acres?!!"

"No, no, no, there are only 1,000 acres, but there are actually only more than 900 acres." The dwarf Peter explained in a hurry, and he sighed helplessly: "This nickname... is becoming more and more exaggerated."

...

...

Carman bent over and walked out of the tent in a black robe with a bird's beak-shaped mask.

Others outside the tent also covered their mouths and noses with triangle scarves.

"How?" Winters looked serious and asked first: "What is it?"

Kaman looked at Winters, glanced at the people around him, and said calmly: "The symptoms are a bit like [(old words) Aichen plague], but I can't tell... I still need to go back and read the books."

To avoid panic, Kaman deliberately used ancient vocabulary.

Most of the people present did not understand what Kaman was saying, and those who could understand did not understand the specific meaning of "Aichen Plague".

Winters couldn't remember what the "Aichen Plague" meant for a moment, but he clearly heard the plague in the second half of the phrase.

That's enough.

"Leave here first." Winters made a quick decision, leaving two guards to guard the tent, and then took the others back the same way.

Winters is located in a [shed ground] outside St. C.

People are born to like to gather together. A few branches lift a curtain, which is called a "shed". Many shacks gather together, which is called a "shed ground".

If the troops in St. C. Town never disbanded, the shacklands would continue to exist.

The final appearance is that the "Wuzhang Street" next to the Shuangqiao Military Camp hides dirt and is full of slum streets.

The shack in front of us is just a campground where hungry people set up tents and gather together to keep warm.

Stepping on the narrow, curved muddy path between the tents, Winters took Kaman, Charles and others out.

The refugees gathered here saw that the group was quite famous, as if they were afraid or ashamed, and they all hid in the shacks.

In the iron pot, the horse meat stolen from the battlefield was boiling "Gudong Gudong" and through the curtains blown open by the wind, Winters saw someone doing a flesh business.

Walking outside, Tamas led the four companies of the First Battalion to wait.

"Entertain!" Winters summoned the acting battalion commander Tamas and the commanders of various companies, and gritted his teeth and ordered: "Don't make too much noise, but no one is allowed to let go."

Tamas raised his hand and turned away.

"[Aichen Plague], is there any treatment?" Winters asked Kaman.

"Fire." Kaman thought for a moment: "Historical records show that during the Aichen plague, Hebercrates discovered that blacksmiths who were with fire every day rarely got infected, and finally used fire to dispel Aichen's plague. The specific method was to burn spices and mugwort plants on the streets, burn the clothes and mattresses of the sick..."

Winters listened carefully, but his eyebrows became tighter and tighter.

We have made every effort to prevent everything, but it finally came. Since ancient times, people have discovered that plagues always follow after war.

The logic behind this is not difficult to understand: eating well, dress warmly, and living in a covered house, the risk of getting sick is small; even if you get sick, the chance of survival is high.

If you can't eat enough, don't wear warm clothes, you can live in a crowded and dirty shack, and you will sooner or later be tortured to death.

"Why didn't I notice the problem of shacks earlier?" Winters couldn't help asking himself: "Why didn't I give priority to the accommodation for refugees?"

But now is not the time to complain. The rotten, dirty, and crowded shacks are simply a crucible of plague. Every second that exists, the risk of a major outbreak will increase by one point.

"There are currently two large shacks around St. C. and a few small ones." Winters made up his mind and drew a simple map on the ground: "It all needs to be pulled out."

"How to pull it?" Kaman raised his eyebrows and asked.

"Old approach." Winters continued to outline the map: "Build a new camp near the shack. It cannot be too big, otherwise there will be no isolation effect. It cannot be too small, otherwise it will not be completed quickly. Everything in the existing camp will be burned and burned to ashes for me."

"All burn?" Bart Xialing keenly grasped the key to the problem: "What do they eat? What do they wear?"

"Clothes and bedding can be boiled in hot water before use." Father Kaman said: "The water must be boiled first before drinking, but this requires a lot of fuel."

"Fuel is easy to solve." Winters felt a soreness in his left leg, and he stood with a cane: "We will also provide food first."

Bart Xialing didn't say anything, but just gave a silent salute.

"Then what should we eat?" Winters knew this without asking his subordinates.

"Don't worry about food." Winters looked around his subordinates: "I'll solve it."

Although everyone doesn't know what Winters can do, the words from the guarantor still made many people feel relieved.

Some company commanders were worried that once the soldiers learned that there was a plague in the shack, they would have to face the plague. There would inevitably be large-scale escape and chaos, and even trigger camp roars or rebellions.

Therefore, three company commanders, including Bart Xialing, tend to conceal.

"It's useless." Winters ended the argument in one sentence: "It can't be hidden."

Later, all the soldiers of the First Battalion gathered in line. They will be the first people outside Winters to receive the notification, followed by the entire army, and then the entire Tiefeng County.
To be continued...