The Cornflower Witch Chapter 249

Walking through the mountains and forests at night, the darkness that was an obstacle for others was not much different in Sylphidya’s eyes from daytime. She could even better hide herself in the dark and draw strength from the moonlight.

Continuing along the mountain path, Sylphidya gradually heard the sound of wheels coming from inside the mine.

Even at night, work here did not cease. Outside the mine, there was a camp of Anti soldiers stationed, patrolling and checking the laborers emerging from the mine. They confiscated the ore the laborers had dug out, then gave them food and water in exchange.

Laborers who hadn’t found any ore could only kneel on the ground, begging hoarsely, thin as bone sticks. But these soldiers had no compassion, or rather, any compassionate soldiers wouldn’t last here.

Prolonged begging and kowtowing further weakened their bodies, and some, unable to endure, fainted by the wayside.

Seeing this, some miners couldn’t bear to watch and shared a little of their own food and water with them.

Unfortunately, some people, even with food, could no longer swallow. They had been starving for too long, their bodies extremely weak; it was already too late to feed them.

Seeing someone dead, a soldier came over, kicked the motionless body, and spat in disgust.

“See that? Work hard, or this will be your fate!”

With that, he had a few nearby miners carry the dead body to a cart, then pushed it to a cliffside and dumped it directly into the darkness below.

In such a scene, no one shouted, no one screamed. Most miners continued to numbly eat the food they had managed to obtain, their eyes hollow. Even with their mouths full of ash and dirt, they had no inclination to wipe it off, simply swallowing it with the black bread.

Night deepened. They huddled together in a corner of the camp, sleeping in a bundle, like black mud balls, barely recognizable as human.

On the other side, the night watch soldiers sat around a table drinking, discussing which brothel women in Scorched Stone City were fun, and what new entertainment was available.

“But, things have been a bit unsettled lately.” A soldier put down his cup as he drank, changing the subject.

“What’s wrong? You suddenly say something like that, *hiccup*.” A red-faced Anti soldier next to him patted his shoulder, still hiccuping, clearly quite drunk.

“When I went to the city during the day, I heard that Stream Valley City in the north had been recaptured.”

“Isn’t that good news? Why?”

“It’s true it was recaptured, but Commander Nocton, the general leading the troops, was severely wounded and unconscious, and more than half of his knights were killed in action.”

“No way, who could wound General Nocton? Those knight lords, in their plate armor with their class abilities, are as tough as rock. I can’t even stab them when they’re standing still, how could anyone wound them?”

“That’s right. It used to be easy when we fought Regas.” He slammed down his cup, exhaled, and then continued.

“They say it was cultists.”

“Cultists?” His companion frowned.

“Yes, an unknown cult. I heard they can control monsters, and many knight lords were caught off guard, which caused heavy casualties.”

“Anyway, there are cultists active in Regas territory now, and our Scorched Stone City is very close to Stream Valley City, so I’m a bit worried.” He spoke of his recent unease.

“Oh, what are you afraid of? The people at the top worry about such things. We just need to eat well and have fun.”

“To be honest, I feel much more comfortable here than back home. I can do whatever I want, just like a lord. It’s truly liberating.”

“Haha, that’s right. The girls back home wouldn’t even look at me, but here, I can have fun with several women in a day. Hehe.”

Having said this, they began discussing various strange fetishes, some saying they liked legs, others feet, and so on.

In a large tree outside the camp, Sylphidya sat on a branch, listening to the sounds from inside the camp. The soldiers’ chatter, the laborers’ sleeping breaths, and the faint tapping sounds from the mine were all clearly audible.

Stream Valley City in the north, had it been recaptured? She hadn’t expected Prince Jobs to be defeated so quickly. But looking at the results, the Anti army also suffered heavy losses. She wondered what would happen next.

Since Prince Jobs wasn’t dead, there would probably be a few more battles in Regas territory. She didn’t know Prince Jobs, nor could she guess his situation, Sylphidya pondered.

Then, Sylphidya’s attention shifted back to the laborers huddled in the corner. She could see that their condition was very poor, and in a few more days, many more would likely die.

What should she do? Sylphidya asked herself, should she stand by and do nothing?

Defeating these soldiers in the camp would be easy for her, but what followed would be the main challenge.

There were currently over 100 laborers in the camp outside the mine, and she estimated another 300 or so were working inside. If she rescued all these people, how would she resettle them?

At their speed, they certainly couldn’t escape quickly. Even if she took them and fled, the garrison in the city would easily catch up. Then, she would face an attack from the lord and his army. If she won, it wouldn’t be over. The surrounding cities under Anti lords would unite and send people to suppress her. If she continued to resist, it would provoke an even greater backlash.

Thinking this, the girl shook her head slightly. This option was definitely out.

So, let these miners scatter and escape? She would find other ways to distract the pursuers, and then make her own escape.

This would indeed save the laborers in the mine now, but as long as Lord Somaelin remained, he would surely continue to capture people to mine here, and such tragedies would always recur.

Advise Lord Somaelin? Sylphidya shook her head. This seemed impossible, let alone something she would consider. Besides, she didn’t want to negotiate with this notorious person and reach an agreement.

Get rid of this lord? Even if he died, these soldiers would still make people dig for ore, because it would bring profit.

What should she do then? Was killing the only option? But where would the killing end? She couldn’t endlessly fight the Anti Kingdom, and if she stopped, the situation would return to normal.

Sylphidya sat on the tree, thinking slowly, not only about the current situation but also about the many possible future developments.

At this moment, several more miners emerged from the mine, struggling with their crude bamboo baskets on their backs.

They slowly walked to the camp, placed their bamboo baskets before the Anti soldiers who were inspecting them, begging for food and water in exchange.

“Heh heh, you guys, you’re so late today.” The soldier teased and mocked for a few moments, then rummaged through the bamboo baskets.

“Barely enough.” He shook his head with slight boredom, motioning for a companion nearby to bring sour black bread and crude clay pots to distribute food and water to the miners.

However, perhaps for amusement, or perhaps to deliberately torment the miners, he did not directly give them food. Instead, he tore off pieces of bread and tossed them out, making them scramble and fight for it.

Watching these former companions go mad with hunger, clawing and biting at each other for food, the Anti soldiers sitting on their stools burst into laughter.

“Look, these are Regas’s dogs.”

In the scramble, many miners were injured. An old man with black hair finally managed to grab some food and hugged it to his chest, but the other miners desperately pulled away his arms, snatching the bread from his embrace.

Just like that, the palm-sized piece of bread was torn until only a tiny bit remained. At this point, the soldier began to throw new pieces of bread, and no one cared about the old man anymore, all scrambling for the freshly thrown larger pieces.

“Haha.” Seeing this, the Anti soldiers let out bursts of laughter, feeling that the boring night had become a little more interesting.

At this moment, the black-haired old man, with trembling hands, slowly put the bread into his mouth to chew and swallow.

After throwing a few more pieces of bread, a soldier saw the black-haired old man slowly sitting up, as if remembering something.

“Oh, it’s you. I remember.”

“Your name is Vanders, right? You used to be a merchant, heh heh.”

“When I checked your goods back then, I asked you to share some with the brothers, but you refused, as stingy as a ghost.”

“What, are you regretting it now? Hahaha.”

“If you had been more sensible back then, you wouldn’t have fallen to this state. See, some merchants are very smart; they not only prepare money for us in advance but also thoughtfully offer various benefits.” He said, shaking his head with his arms crossed and kicking the black-haired old man, an expression of exasperated disappointment on his face.

“I think you’re not suited to be a merchant. You’re better off as a miser, watching your little possessions and crying in a corner. Hahaha.”

On the big tree outside the camp, Sylphidya slowly stood up.

Although she hadn’t fully decided how to handle the aftermath of this situation, there were some things she ultimately had to do.

It was during her weakest and most uncertain time, having just awakened in this world and completely at a loss.

Fortunately, she met good people then: the old village chief who arranged her lodging, Captain Frein who taught her breathing techniques, Talir who cared for her, and Vanders, the merchant who helped her buy clothes and arranged accommodation for her in an unfamiliar city.

Recalling the past, Sylphidya often felt grateful that she had been well taken care of and hadn’t encountered anything terrible. Since she met Vanders again today, it was probably a karmic **cycle** of fate.

Countless tiny seeds appeared in her hand, then she gently blew them, scattering them into the night wind.

Sylphidya lightly pressed her hand to the scabbard, and the pale golden blade slowly slid out, held by her fair fingers, hanging down from her sleeve.

She walked towards the camp in the firelight, her speed gradually increasing. The blade swept over the grass, carving smooth slivers of leaves, until finally, the blade flipped between her fingers, reflecting the brazier in the camp, a dazzling flash of light.