Chapter 3985: Outlaws (Part 2)

The Overlord of the Blood Desert ignored the cries for help of the kidnapped, the death throes of the wounded, and the desperate prayers of those who still charged toward the Starry Lagoon village.

"What are we doing? Those people are getting slaughtered!" Morok was the first to snap out of his daze.

He tried to cover Garrik’s eyes and turn his little brother’s head away, but Morok discovered that the young Fomor wasn’t there anymore, and so was anyone young and impressionable enough to be scarred by the massacre.

"Careful, Morok." Jirni had never fallen into a daze, she just didn’t care. "We are guests here, and the law of the Desert is different from our own. If these two tribes invoked a trial by combat to resolve a dispute, meddling in their conflict might get you into trouble.

"We can’t afford to overstep our boundaries."

"Thanks, Jirni." The Tyrant looked at Salaark’s stony expression and felt his blood run cold. "Overlord?"

"Thanks for your concern, Lord and Lady Ernas, but this is an irrelevant matter to me. None of the people out there answers to my authority, nor do I have any obligation towards them." The Guardian replied. "Feel free to act as you see fit."

"Not you." Quylla tried to open a Warp Steps, but Morok grabbed her by the shoulder. "We don’t know what the yellow-robed guys can do, and you are too vulnerable."

"But-"

"Seconded." Orion grabbed Quylla by the other shoulder and cut her short. "You are a Healer, Quylla, but you are also a mother. Are your children less important than those of others?"

She instinctively touched her womb, and her armor covered her like a shell.

Friya moved even quicker than Quylla, but Nalrond didn’t stop her. He moved right after her, standing by her side in case the enemy proved more dangerous than it appeared.

Tista, Solus, Menadion, Protector, and the Demons Warped as well, while Lith stayed behind.

"Why aren’t you going?" Kamila asked.

"It’s too late." Lith could see that the riders had stopped the attack the moment they had spotted the merfolk village in the distance. "They are already escaping through some sort of Warping device."

"Those people still need a Healer!" Kamila said.

"Do they?" Lith turned to Salaark, who shrugged. "Fine. Let’s go."

He Warped them both amid the group of refugees, where the others were already at work. With so many wounded and dying people, no one had bothered giving chase to the yellow-robed riders.

Not only were many refugees on the verge of death, but also uncertainty stopped everyone’s hands.

’What if these people attacked the yellow-robed tribe, and what we witnessed was just a justified reprisal?’ Solus and the others thought. ’There must be a reason if Grandma/Salaark didn’t intervene.

’I can’t chase after those people and kill them without knowing what happened and who is at fault here.’

"You’re a Healer, now, Kami. Knock yourself out." Lith conjured his tier three Spirit Magic, Mother’s Embrace, to stabilize and rejuvenate those too weak to survive treatment with pure light magic.

"Right. I almost forgot." She nodded, using her Invigoration technique to make a quick diagnosis before healing her patients. "Isn’t this the Immortal Body array?"

"Correct." Lith nodded. "I activated it before we moved here, but I kept it at a low output. These people must have run for hours and are severely dehydrated. They need liquids before they can heal."

Only then did Kamila notice the taut skin of her patients and the bulging veins across their bodies. She had been so focused on the open wounds and missing limbs that she had overlooked the less obvious symptoms of an equally dangerous condition.

"Thank the gods for your eyesight." She nodded, handing the refugees nutrient potions and using water magic to deliver them to those too weak to drink by themselves.

"Gods, this is a massacre." Solus focused on the most grievous wounds first, tasking the Demons with taking care of babies and children.

They weren’t wounded, but hunger and dehydration made them look like corpses.

"Come here, Quylla!" Friya cursed her sister’s pact with Faluel that kept her from sharing her Injection spell with the others, leaving Friya alone.

Friya delivered as many healing, nutrients, and saline potions as she could straight into the bloodstream of the refugees, but there were just too many.

"Coming!" Quylla Warped there with Morok standing by her side and Orion with his hand still on the pommel of his blade, Grimlock. "Gods! This is terrible."

She opened four extra eyes across her body, using them to gain a 360-degree field of vision and perform an instant triage. The power from her twins gave Quylla the ability to cast dozens of Injection spells at once, but it still wasn’t enough.

If not for the Immortal Body array staunching the bleeding and keeping the refugees’ vitals stable, dozens of them would have died before a single drop of liquid seeped inside their veins.

"What happened?" Friya asked. "Who are you and why did those guys want you dead?"

Her patient tried to answer, but lost his consciousness due to fatigue and shock.

"Don’t use Invigoration." Quylla warned everyone. "These people need food and rest. If we push them one bit further, their hearts will give out. It’s a miracle they have gotten here already."

"Okay." Nalrond conjured countless stretchers with Light Mastery and used them to lift the unconscious refugees and group them together for Friya to Warp them back to the Starry Lagoon village with a single Warp Steps.

"We don’t have a place big enough to host so many wounded." Rem said, turning to Salaark.

"Don’t worry, you don’t need it." The Overlord replied.

"How can you say that, Grandma?" Tista said in outrage. "Even if these people are criminals, they still deserve basic human decency."

"No, they don’t." Salaark showed no sign of her usual caring and loving self. "They are outlaws."

"All of them?" Tista asked in disbelief.

"From the oldest man to the youngest child, Featherling." Salaark nodded, her voice devoid of emotion.

"What can an entire tribe possibly have done to deserve such a fate?" Solus asked.

In all countries of Mogar, being declared an outlaw was a sentence worse than death. Those cast outside the shield of the law could be subjected to the most inhumane atrocities, and no one would bat an eye.

Outlaws could be used as slaves, gladiators, and even as test subjects for all kinds of magic. No matter their fate, there was no authority they could plead for mercy, nor anyone who would care about how they were treated.

Outlaws were non-people, below pets, cattle, and trash cans. The cruelty and potential outcome of being declared an outlaw were so dire that such a sentence was inflicted solely on those who committed the most heinous crimes or broke out of jail after being captured.

Any criminal who refused to face their judgment would have their wish granted in the worst way possible.

"Do you know the basic rule all Guardians follow, Featherling?" Salaark turned to look at Solus.

"You don’t interfere with the free will of those who live inside your turf and let them face the consequences of their choices." Solus replied.

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