SQUEAK.

The Archmage slightly furrowed her brow at the cry of the turtle the Berserker had left in her care.

"Is it crying because it's hungry...?"

It had been crying continuously for a while, but she had no idea what it meant. That was understandable, as the Archmage had never raised an animal other than those used for experiments.

In other words, she had zero knowledge about what animal cries meant. Let alone a turtle, which was rarely even used for experiments.

SQUEAK.

In the meantime, the turtle slowly crawled and tried to escape the ward. It was heading in the direction the Berserker had left to lend a hand due to the widespread shortage of manpower.

"Where do you think you're going?"

SQUEEAK.

Its determination was commendable, but she couldn't let it go.

She picked the turtle up and placed it back on her lap. It couldn't be helped, as it could get trampled to death by the people bustling about, or worse, be treated as food and thrown into a pot.

"If you don't want to become turtle soup, stay still."

Indeed, with all sorts of problems piling up and a food shortage looming, people were even considering slaughtering their expensive warhorses for meat—though they wouldn't actually do it, of course. It was much more beneficial to use them for transport.

But in such a situation, there was no way a young turtle could avoid being treated as food. It had a high chance of going into the pot before the warhorses did.

She had to be careful.

SQUEAK...

However, whether by coincidence or because the turtle actually understood her words,

the turtle didn't try to escape from her lap after that. It just cried incessantly.

"Archmage, please have a meal."

"Ah, thank you."

In the midst of this, a moment to catch a breath arrived. No matter how urgent the situation was, the healers were also human, so meal times were mandatory.

"It seems there were still some ingredients left to cook with."

"Half the city is still standing, after all."

The person distributing the food shrugged. From his mouth came an alternative expression for saying they had requisitioned supplies from empty houses.

Well, in this unprecedented crisis where half the city had vaporized and all the residents had evacuated, there was obviously no one around to get angry about their homes being raided.

"But even this won't last long..."

However, there was a limit to gathering supplies from the remaining houses. Not only was the distance between the city and the shelter quite far, but not every house had stockpiled food either.

On top of that, manpower was required just to transport the supplies. Considering that most of the ongoing issues were plagued by a labor shortage, it was a truly hopeless situation.

"It can't be helped."

But even a Mage didn't have the ability to conjure non-existent manpower out of thin air. The Archmage lamented this fact as she spooned the soup into her mouth.

Had that young man guarding the Demon Knight received his food?

... Would the Demon Knight ever be able to join them again? Such thoughts, which she hadn't had the time to dwell on while busy, came as an added bonus.

["I have failed to repay your trust, so prepare for a definite execution."]

Her fingers slowly faltered as they scooped the soup. Her stomach felt empty, and her chest grew heavy, as if a boulder sat upon it. It felt like something was blocking her throat.

SQUEEAK.

"What is that?"

Meanwhile, the turtle flapping about on her lap caught the errand boy's attention. Only then did she snap out of her thoughts.

"... Ah, it's a turtle. Someone asked me to watch it for a bit."

"An animal, in this situation..."

We could feed one more person with that. The errand boy's eyes were saying as much, but the Archmage forced herself to look away.

Regardless of whether she shared the same opinion, this turtle had been left in her care by the Berserker. She had no right to mishandle someone else's property.

SQUEAK.

Besides, its continuous crying might be due to hunger, so she figured she should try giving it something.

The Archmage pondered over what the turtle could eat before fishing out a chunk of vegetable from her soup.

The thoroughly cooked carrot was mushy, but because of that, it seemed like it would be easier for the young turtle to eat. Or so she guessed, at least.

SQUEAK.

But the turtle refused by sharply turning its head away. It did the same with all the vegetables from the soup, and even the bread.

The Archmage popped the food the turtle had rejected into her own mouth, wondering if she needed to catch a fish for it.

SQUEAAK.

The turtle's cries were slowly becoming as monotonous as a cricket's chirping.

* * *

"The reinforcements have arrived!"

A week passed like that, full of headaches and tight schedules. Finally, the reinforcements sent from other cities arrived.

"They're finally here."

"Ah, finally, some medicine..."

"Haa, can we rest now...?"

Over the past week, those who were bound to die had already died, but patients were still overflowing.

As a result, the healers and Priests, who had been subjected to hard labor for a whole week, saw this news as true salvation.

The Archmage felt much the same. Moving purely out of a sense of responsibility to save lives had its limits; since they were only human, it was about time they got some rest.

"Hold on, I'll go check the size of the reinforcements."

"Yes."

Meanwhile, they were entirely out of mana and couldn't heal anyway. She decided to use this time to assess the size of the reinforcements.

The amount of supplementary personnel and medicine was important, but she also needed to know what else they had brought in order to formulate any countermeasures.

The turtle she was still looking after in place of the Berserker—who was busy being mobilized for rescue, hunting, and scavenging operations—cried out with a SQUEAK from inside her robes.

"Please help us move the supplies!"

"Where, where should we put the clothes!"

"Please tell us where to put the food!"

However, on her way toward the reinforcements, she witnessed the supplies already being distributed.

Reporting the quantity and type of brought goods to the Lord should have been the first priority, but the situation of the citizens of Bemurhen must have looked incredibly dire to them. She saw the person in charge clicking his tongue and signaling for the supplies to be distributed immediately.

People from the Temple, as well as adventurers and commoners—though they were at least affiliated with merchant groups or other organizations, since there was no way they had brought literal civilians along—were looking for the relief stations while carrying what appeared to be medical supplies. Even at a glance, it was a considerable amount of resources and manpower, which set her mind slightly at ease.

"Stop! Please stop! The food will be distributed appropriately, so do not rush over! Stay where you are!"

Except... as the supplies were moved to various locations, some desperate civilians rushed forward with crazed eyes. The soldiers tried to restrain them, but they were not easily stopped.

"My child is starving!"

"You guys have eaten enough, but we haven't!"

"Aren't the soldiers just going to eat it all again!?"

Yet, it wasn't as if their feelings couldn't be understood. It was a fact that the Lord had prioritized distributing food to those capable of working, namely high-value personnel like the soldiers.

Of course, with limited resources and many mouths to feed, the Lord had no choice but to implement differential rationing... but that wouldn't soothe the hearts of people who had been forced to starve for an entire week.

It was also much easier to blindly resent the situation, claiming that 'the high ranks are monopolizing everything,' rather than accepting the reality that 'we must starve because of our circumstances.'

"Supplies are constantly coming in! So please calm—!"

"Who knows when that will be! Give us some too!"

"I don't want to starve any—"

"Step aside, soldier."

"Wait, Knight..."

"Back down if you don't want to die! Anyone who resists will be executed!"

"...!!"

Moreover, the fact that resenting was easier than understanding applied to the knights and soldiers as well. Yes, they had been given priority in rations, but they hadn't exactly eaten their fill either.

Let alone the fact that they frequently worked far beyond the calories they consumed to protect the citizens, even skipping sleep in the process. It was the perfect recipe for irritability.

To the point where they interpreted the complaints of the starving citizens as, 'You complain even though we kept you safe?'

"I'll say it again. Back down!"

Eventually, led by a knight whose patience had run out, the soldiers drew their weapons. Whether the Lord had authorized this was unclear, but it certainly had the effect of making the civilians slowly retreat.

The disturbance gradually began to die down.

"... Those damn noble bastards!"

"If only the nobles and the Temple hadn't killed Lord Biryuho in the first place..."

But had it really died down?

Just because it was out of sight didn't mean it was gone. That was plain to see just by listening to the muttering of the dispersing crowd.

The people's dissatisfaction was at a boiling point. Even if Bemurhen frequently waged wars against the Mermen, resulting in all the citizens being on relatively friendly terms with the military, this was still the case.

Now that their homes had been completely wiped out, far too few people had the capacity to be considerate of one another.

"I heard the Lord is protecting the demon..."

"What? Is that true?"

"Could the noble lords and the Temple really have fallen to the demons...?"

Regardless, she had heard that wild rumors were spreading lately, but this was crossing the line.

The Archmage frowned after eavesdropping on the whispering crowd.

What was worse was that it wasn't an outright lie, but an exaggeration built upon a sliver of truth.

A distorted truth is far more dangerous than a plausible lie. For the world is filled with fools who mistake a partial admission for a full confession.

"I just hope nothing disastrous happens..."

Now that the reinforcements had arrived, she figured they could avoid the worst-case scenario... but you never knew what might happen.

At the very least, they still had the issue with the Demon Knight on their hands. Things had only quieted down because he hadn't woken up in over a week, but that didn't mean everyone had forgotten about him.

This was especially true for the Temple. It was about time for them to start deliberating.

"Right, nothing disastrous..."

But could she really make a decision just by deliberating on it?

"..."

The reason she had advocated for the Demon Knight's survival during his first rampage was because she thought he might be able to control the demon.

But this incident had made her realize the truth.

That thing, that demon. It was far too dangerous to leave be just on the off chance that it could be controlled. Dammit all, it was so overwhelmingly strong that keeping it around to use it was impossible.

"... Kids these days, honestly."

Yet at the same time, the person harboring that demon was someone who tried to save people until the very end, succeeded in doing so, and then apologized for it. Was it truly right to abandon such a person?

And was it truly right to tell the Hero, who respected the Demon Knight, that he must prepare to kill him?

The young ones had sacrificed so much already; was it really fair to demand even more sacrifice from them now?

"They make the elderly suffer far too much."

In the end, she was back to square one.

She couldn't choose.

"They make us suffer far too much..."

She didn't dare to make such a choice.

NEIGH.

"Archmage, what is this?"

Just as she was slowly being steeped in sorrow, like paper soaking up ink.

Someone on horseback came to a stop near the Archmage. It was the Berserker, heavily laden with game.

"... The reinforcements have arrived."

"Yeah."

Having heard about the reinforcements in advance, the Berserker didn't ask further. Instead, she patted the Demon Knight's horse, which a citizen had returned a few days prior.

Seeing how Frederick didn't lash out, it seemed they had grown quite close over the past few days.

"Call me if you need anything. I'll be staying at the distribution center for about an hour."

"Understood. Ah, what are you going to do about the turtle?"

"Hmm... I'll take it with me."

"Will you?"

Just as the Berserker had grown close to Frederick, the Archmage had also grown quite attached to this tiny turtle... but there was no reason to object when its owner was offering to take it. She obediently handed the turtle over.

The turtle, which had been chirping since the Berserker appeared, flapped its limbs in welcome.

But the empty spot it left behind felt a little lonely.

As soon as the Berserker rode off, the sorrow rushed back in, prompting her to fumble with her pocket. It was where the turtle had just been.

"What are you doing over there?"

"... Blue Coral."

"You look pretty tired, huh?"

"Not as much as you."

The only saving grace was that there was still plenty of work to be done everywhere. The Archmage snapped out of her gloom and stared at the person who had just spoken to her.

It was Blue Coral, who was still being carried on his bodyguard's back, apparently yet to be cleared for physical activity. The bodyguard, whom she had seen often over the past week—acting as a messenger—gave a light, silent bow.

"Why have you come?"

"Just checking if they brought any catalysts."

The Archmage acknowledged the bodyguard's silent bow with a slight raise of her hand, having just asked the reason for Blue Coral's appearance.

As expected, he was snooping around to see if there was anything to be gained from the incoming supply distribution.

"And you?"

"I came to check the size of the reinforcements. Fortunately, it's enough to give us some immediate breathing room."

But did they really bring catalysts? Since they had to maintain contact with other cities, they probably brought enough materials for communication magic, but it was questionable whether they had packed anything else.

Blue Coral seemed to know this as well, as he didn't step forward to ask directly. He was likely planning to ask the Lord after the report was made.

"On another note, I see a lot of merchant groups."

"Well, wouldn't it be a donation? It's usually the merchants who hold the most supplies."

"Ha. A donation? Since when were merchants the type of people to do something like that?"

"Merchants may be profit-seekers, but they are still human. Not all of them would prioritize money in the face of such a disaster."

That aside, this guy had always harbored a severe case of misanthropy.

The Archmage scratched her head as she looked at Blue Coral, who set his expectations of humans bitingly low.

It seemed his misanthropy had gotten even worse after being thoroughly stabbed in the back by Gridana this time. Of course, who wouldn't be shocked by their betrayal, but still.

"Well... there's bound to be some underlying intention, like an investment for the future. It's not every day you get a chance to make someone like you owe them a favor."

"It's not just some underlying intention, it's bound to be the primary motive."

"Yes... honestly, it probably is. But isn't even that kind of hypocrisy better than nothing?"

However, she did feel that he was expressing an unusual amount of disgust toward the depths of human nature today.

The Archmage looked at Blue Coral's furrowed brows in puzzlement.

"What's wrong? I thought you were the one who said never to expect anything from humans."

"After everything that's happened, I was thinking about only doing business with the relatively clean-looking ones. But it looks like they're all rotten... Hmm?"

It really must be because of Gridana. The Archmage nodded in understanding and followed Blue Coral's widened gaze.

Nothing in particular stood out. At most... the fact that the merchant group they had entrusted Akata to in the past had also joined this procession? Though judging by how early they arrived and the absence of Akata, it was probably a different branch.

"What is it?"

"... It seems there's at least one exception in this world."

"...?"

"I thought the merchant world was entirely filled with people whose very nature was filthy."

The Archmage blinked at Blue Coral's words before simply deciding to accept it. She didn't know what it was, but he must have spotted someone with a genuinely good nature.

"Good luck with your business."

Regardless, if her guess was right, it was something worth celebrating. She wished him luck without much thought, and Blue Coral meekly accepted it.

"Archmage! Great Sage!!"

If someone hadn't urgently called out to them, he probably would have even given a proper reply.

"He woke up, he finally woke up!"

"...!"

From afar, a pale-faced Deathbringer had come looking for them.