Free Web NovelChapter 907: Solving problems
The cold of the northern wilderness still dominated those lands ravaged by the war against the Beast Monarch. The sky remained shrouded in almost permanent gray clouds, while the wind swept across the devastated fields carrying the scent of damp wood, ancient blood, and smoke. Entire forests had been crushed during the monstrous creatures’ advance months ago. Villages vanished. Trade trails were destroyed. Entire tribes lost leaders, hunters, and much of their reserves. The territory still bore scars too deep to disappear quickly.
Beatrice watched in silence as she rode slowly along the uneven road with Cassandra and Daniela. Behind them, dozens of wagons struggled through the muddy terrain. Entire families traveled crammed between boxes, blankets, rusty tools, and the few belongings they managed to salvage after the war’s destruction. Many people no longer even had a home to return to.
Now all that remained was to move forward.
The group moved slowly because many of the survivors were wounded, exhausted, or simply lacked the strength to walk normally. Some children slept huddled together inside the wagons. Elderly people remained in absolute silence, merely observing the devastated landscape like people who no longer expected much from the future. Some men still carried improvised weapons, although everyone knew that they would hardly be effective against truly dangerous creatures.
Even so, they continued to hold those weapons.
Old habits outlived hope.
Daniela walked alongside one of the main wagons, checking the wounds of some survivors. Her clerical robes were already partially covered in dust and mud accumulated during days of travel. She had spent practically the entire last week healing people tirelessly. Infected cuts. Burns. Broken bones. Diseases brought on by cold and hunger.
Even so, the number of dead was already much lower than it should have been.
That in itself was already a victory.
Cassandra rode a few meters ahead on her horse, constantly observing the trees around the destroyed road. Her posture remained rigid, disciplined, almost military. Since the fall of the monarch, attacks by scattered creatures had increased dramatically throughout the region. Many monsters had lost territory, natural leadership, and migratory routes. Now they wandered aimlessly, attacking anything living they encountered.
And there were many vulnerable survivors in that caravan.
Beatrice kept her gaze distant as she observed the people behind her. The constant silence of those families spoke louder than any account of the state of the remaining tribes. There was no celebration of survival. There was no relief. Most still seemed unable to fully comprehend that their lands had simply ceased to exist.
The war was over.
But everything that existed before it also ended.
A small child tugged lightly at Beatrice’s clothing as the wagon passed close to her horse.
"Young lady..."
She calmly looked down.
The girl seemed to be no more than seven years old. Too thin. Dirty. The tired eyes of someone who had spent too much time running.
"What’s wrong?"
"How much longer?"
Beatrice remained silent for a few seconds before answering.
"Two days."
The girl nodded slowly.
Then she hugged her knees again inside the wagon without saying anything more.
This kind of conversation had been happening constantly since they left.
How much longer?
Is Asgard safe?
Is there food there?
Are there houses?
Will people accept us?
Do monsters reach there?
Always the same questions.
Always the same fear hidden behind them.
Because no one there was just traveling.
They were abandoning what little was left of their own lives.
Cassandra slightly slowed her horse’s pace when she noticed movement coming from the nearby forest. Her hand automatically landed on the sword strapped to her waist. Some Asgardian soldiers immediately became alert around the caravan.
The movement disappeared a few seconds later.
Probably some small animal.
Even so, no one relaxed.
Constant fear had become a natural part of those people’s routine.
Daniela finished bandaging the arm of an injured man before sighing wearily.
"He needs more rest."
"Where?" the man replied with a bitter laugh. "On the frozen ground?"
She remained silent.
Because there was no good answer to that.
The surviving tribes were scattered, fragmented, and without structure. Some villages were still trying to reorganize, but most no longer had enough resources to survive the next winter. There was a lack of game. A lack of wood. A lack of security.
And now there was a lack of people.
Many had died during the war.
Others simply disappeared trying to escape.
Asgard emerged as the only viable alternative.
Not because it was perfect.
But because it still worked.
Beatrice watched a long line of survivors walking behind the wagons as the cold wind swept across the road. Some women carried children in their arms. Men pulled small animals tied with makeshift ropes. Old men walked leaning on pieces of wood used as canes.
It didn’t look like migration.
It looked like permanent evacuation.
An entire tribe slowly ceasing to exist.
Cassandra looked back for a few seconds before speaking:
"Three more kilometers and we stop."
Some soldiers nodded immediately.
No one complained.
Exhaustion had already surpassed the point where people still had the energy to argue.
They continued advancing along the old, destroyed road, with burnt trees occasionally appearing around the path. Some regions still bore visible marks of the battle against the Beast Monarch. Enormous craters. Monstrous, partially buried skeletons. Entire areas where absolutely nothing grew anymore.
Daniela looked away as she passed near the gigantic skeleton of a creature crushed months ago.
There were still bodies scattered in some regions.
Not all could be buried.
Not all could be identified.
Beatrice slowly pulled on the horse’s reins when she noticed a group of survivors standing near the road. There were only five people. Two men. An elderly woman. Two children.
All extremely thin.
Cassandra immediately slowed the group.
The men raised improvised weapons upon noticing the approaching caravan. They didn’t seem hostile. Just desperate.
Beatrice dismounted from her horse slowly.
"Which tribe do you belong to?"
One of the men hesitated for a few seconds before answering:
"There are no more tribes."
The answer came dryly.
Without emotion.
Like someone repeating a truth they accepted long ago.
Beatrice quickly observed their condition.
Wounded.
Hungry.
Exhausted.
They had probably been wandering for days.
"You can come with us."
The two men immediately exchanged suspicious glances.
"Where to?"
"Asgard."
The old woman reacted first.
"City of the dragon?"
"Yes."
The silence that followed spoke volumes.
Asgard was already beginning to become a legend among the survivors of the north.
A safe city.
A rich city.
A city protected by monsters worse than the monsters outside.
Many people didn’t know exactly what to believe.
But they knew that caravans were constantly heading in that direction.
And few returned.
One of the men slowly lowered his improvised weapon.
"Is there food there?"
"Yes."
"Work?"
"Yes."
"Do the guards let people like us in?"
Beatrice looked directly at him.
"Asgard needs people."
That seemed to surprise him more than any other answer.
Because for a long time the entire continent had treated refugees as dead weight.
Cities closed their gates.
Nobles refused help.
Merchants exploited survivors.
But Asgard was growing too fast.
They needed workers.
Builders.
Miners.
Blacksmiths.
Hunters.
And Monica apparently decided to use this to absorb a good portion of the refugees from the north.
Practical.
Cold.
And efficient.
Exactly how she did everything.
The small group ended up joining the caravan shortly after.
No one celebrated.
No one smiled.
They just kept walking alongside the other survivors.
More people trying to keep existing.
The camp was set up near nightfall in a relatively protected area among rock formations. The soldiers quickly lit fires while the survivors arranged blankets and boxes around the wagons. Some children finally started sleeping properly after days of walking non-stop.
Daniela distributed hot soup along with some volunteers while checking on the most seriously wounded again.
Beatrice remained seated near a campfire observing the movement of the camp.
Silence prevailed.
Even with hundreds of people gathered.
That was strange.
Before the war, tribes used to be noisy. People talked. They sang. They argued. Children ran between the tents.
Now there seemed to be only weariness.
Cassandra approached slowly, holding two containers of food.
She handed one to Beatrice before sitting down beside her.
"They’re getting worse."
Beatrice nodded slowly.
"I know."
"Two more villages have disappeared to the north."
"Monsters?"
"Hunger."
That made Beatrice close her eyes for a few seconds.
It was always worse when there was no enemy to kill.
Monsters could be fought.
Hunger couldn’t.
Cassandra kept looking at the fire before continuing:
"If Asgard weren’t accepting refugees, half of these people would already be dead."
"Probably."
Daniela approached soon after, clearly tired.
"We need more medicine."
"How much is left?"
"Not much."
Cassandra sighed.
"There are still two days left."
Daniela sat down near them slowly.
For a few seconds, the three remained silently observing the camp.
The cold wind whipped through the stones as children slept near the campfires. Some men still kept armed watch around the area, though they all seemed too tired even to hold their weapons properly.
Beatrice spoke first:
"They still look scared."
Daniela let out a low, tired laugh.
"Because they are."
No one disagreed. ƒrēewebnovel.com
The people there had spent months fleeing.
Monsters.
Wars.
Famine.
Blizzards.
Armed gangs looting survivors.
It was hard to simply relax after all that.
Cassandra watched a woman trying to get her young child to eat near the campfire.
"It will take time." frёeωebɳovel.com
"Why?" asked Daniela.
"So they can go back to living normally."
Silence returned soon after.
Because perhaps some would never return.
The entire continent had changed too quickly in the last few months.
Kingdoms had fallen.
Monarchs died.
Cities disappeared.
Now thousands wandered homeless, trying to survive amidst the chaos left by the war.
Asgard just happened to grow at the right time.
Beatrice watched this with a strangely detached gaze.
She knew exactly what Monica was doing.
Asgard wasn’t just helping refugees.
It was absorbing population.
Labor.
Tribal knowledge.
Experienced hunters.
Blacksmiths.
People desperate enough to accept rebuilding an entire city in exchange for safety.
It was cruel.
But it was also intelligent.
And honestly... maybe it was the only possible solution.
The continent needed functioning places.
The next morning, the caravan set off again before full sunrise. The cold was worse. Some wheels constantly got stuck in the hardened mud of the road. Even so, nobody wanted to stop for long.
The faster they got to Asgard, the better.
During the journey, more small groups of survivors were found wandering along the destroyed roads. Some agreed to accompany the caravan immediately. Others showed fear upon hearing the name Asgard.
Especially upon hearing stories about Strax.
The white dragon.
The monstrous king.
The destroyer of monarchs.
The stories changed depending on who told them.
But they all had one thing in common.
Asgard was safe.
And that was enough for now.
At the end of the second day, the first industrial structures began to appear on the distant horizon.
Chimneys.
Metal towers.
Railroad lines.
Constant smoke rising against the gray sky.
The survivors began to observe this in absolute silence.
Some people seemed frightened.
Others excited.
Others just too tired to react.
But everyone understood the same thing at that moment.
Their old life had definitively ended.
And now it remained to be discovered whether any new life was still possible within that monstrous industrial city called Asgard.
