The hell that remained...

[Still Randall's POV]

"… mmhh…"

Irked to turn around, my left arm came in contact with another human arm.

'Ah?...'

Only then did I notice the blanket lying beneath me… or rather, us.

I forced my eyes to open up, and scan the figure lying by my side.

A large, bulky man. A short, yet somewhat unkept beard decorated his defined, dark jawline, along with a few battle scars. 

'Nevermind, that's a guy… wait, who is behind me, then?'

Turning around, I spotted another man lying in the same blanket as us. Which made me feel curious about something.

I got up silently, and looked.

Five males shared a single blanket, which found itself on the ground. With me, we were six, huddled up together.

Similar scenes took place all around us, with dozens of men, women and children all sharing blankets. 

Some of them had minor wounds, but a majority of them didn't have any. 

"Randall?... It's too early to be awake, go back to sleep…" spoke a woman, with a hint of sleepiness in her voice.

Her crimson eyes, with eye bags hanging under them, glared right at me. 

The well-maintained dark hair from yesterday was long gone, as it ended up turning into a mess from all the battles of the night… Along with her torn, white shirt and the dark skirt, the latter being replaced by a pair of dark, long pants.

Notoriously, her ears didn't have the obsidian earrings from yesterday. Only the now dirty clothes.

"What time is it?"

"For you, it's time to sleep," she replied, bluntly, before letting out a yawn.

"You look like you need that rest more than me, honestly…"

A sigh came out of her mouth, before she covered a part of her head with her hand. "Alright, you want to stay awake? Come and help me, then," she commanded, annoyed.

"Sure thing," I replied, honestly.

'If the position of the moon is enough to guide me, then… At best, it should be 3 or 4 AM.'

Jean brought me over to a small, outdoors deposit with a lot of large logs. "Mind giving me a hand carrying these?"

And well, I accepted. Not like there was much else to do…

Thus, I grabbed a log, placed it under my armpit, and carried it that way. While Jean picked up three, and carried them like a box.

"Jean, aren't there carts or something in this town?"

"Yes, but there are wounded sleeping on them."

… That's mildly concerning. Just like this whole situation.

We passed by a few ruined houses, and the remains of others. The second one to my left had lost the roof, while blood painted its outside walls. Some pieces of broken wood poked out of the structure, akin to bones.

Meanwhile, a few people slept around the fifth house to the right. While the shattered glass littered parts of the floor, and the doors… weren't even there to begin with, some critically wounded townsfolk lay down on mattresses and blankets, as life slowly but surely escaped the grasp of their fragile hands.

"And here we are! Drop it all off here, gent-"

And I dropped the log.

"-...ly. Anyway, next trip. We have to do this around ten or fifteen times, by the way."

And so, we did it nineteen times. Because she miscalculated.

"Alright, that's…done? Yeah, done."

We returned to the spot where I lay previously, only to find only one of the men asleep.

"Where are the others?"

"I'm not quite sure…"

Until someone called us out.

A knight, wearing set pieces of yellow and silver armor, with his helmet on. 

"Ah, finally found you two… You see, Commander William has just fixed the Mana Transmissor, and the Monarch left a message, stating that we are to return to the Capital. Thus, we're heading back in an hour or so."

And, he woke up the sleeping knight, only for both of them to leave.

"So, we're leaving already…?" muttered Jean, almost sulking.

I kept my gaze on her downcast eyes, and spat out something. "What if we don't?"

She looked at me, perplexed, but I kept on yap- I mean, talking.

"Take a look around you. It's impossible for these people to get back up on their feet with ease, especially on their own…"

By this point, she couldn't even hold eye contact. Not that it mattered.

"Thus, even though I doubt the Monarch will be thrilled about us staying here, I'm fairly confident he won't be too mad, either."

She looked at the nearby, collapsed buildings, and the debris lying around. At the remaining humans, whose despair leaked out of their almost lifeless eyes. And… at the corpses of those who didn't make it.

With a clenched fist, she left.

… About an hour later, the knights got ready to leave. All of us were present.

'I guess she didn't want to… That's a pity.'

She walked up to William, and spoke with him for a bit.

"I see… I'll make sure to take care of the report, then," the commander replied. These two shook hands, only for him to mumble something… quietly.

"The talented young man is cute. Take care of him."

Jean, with a slight blush on her face, nodded her head. And stood there, observing as the knights all got on the horses… and left.

Of course, she wasn't the only one. Rather, quite a few people stayed to watch… Some had gratitude in their eyes, but others? Their eyes emanated pure hatred.

With her being one of the first to leave, I took my chance to approach her. "So, you chose to stay in the end?" I asked, in spite of knowing the answer. 

Nothing came out of her mouth. So I cleared my throat.

"Ah? You said something?"

"... Forget it."

And so, we got to work.

Due to her ability to wield fire magic, she ended up working with the cooks… Or at least, those that remained.

As for me? I had to carry materials. Mostly wood, stone and a few other items, including stairs. Quite a few of the people who could carry this with ease either got injured, or injured during the battle.

… But many of them died.

Anyway, as I dropped a few logs near the makeshift hospital, a well-hidden scene lured my eyes.

Two men, one dressed in rags and another wearing a uniquely green robe, met under the dark guise of an alleyway. 

… I walked towards their position, and hid behind one of the nearest walls. 

"Mister, please, my daughter… needs help…"

One of them let out a sigh, before talking. "I understand, sir, but her wounds aren't that bad. She must wait for her turn to arrive."

"B-but… Her arm-"

"She can last for a few hours. Right now, there are people with higher priority. Now, forgive me, but I need to depart now… Others are waiting," spoke the calm figure, before walking away.

"... Bullshit. The blacksmith's son only lost a finger, but he… He was one of the first to get treatment! H-how do you explain that?!"

The figure's steps stopped. "... He had a higher priority on the waiting list," he replied, before walking off.

'... Corruption.'

A drop of water leads to another, which eventually leads to a rainstorm.

Thoughts tend to work in a similar way.

Unknowingly, my right hand curled up into a fist, accompanying my now darkened expression.

'While I expect corruption to exist in any society… Seeing it first-hand always hits differently.'

It really fucking does.

With the cold man gone, the ragged one was left in the alley. Filled with nothing but frustration. Anger… And hatred.

…