Chapter 59.2: Civilized
Despite their complaints, the players realized that the lives of these ordinary NPCs directly affected the amount of territory prestige they could earn during this mission. After all, these NPCs were living and breathing "data" beings. Watching them die wasn't something players couldn't bear, so they got to work at once.
The caravan had traveled along relatively flat terrain, and the formation wasn't entirely straight, so Mia could easily see the situation from her position near the front.
When Mia saw another of her neighbors from a nearby street, Martina, being carried out by the undead, her face paled dramatically, as if she had seen her own future, and she shivered uncontrollably.
People in town would come across each other often, and Martina, who was ten years older than Mia, had come over to her house to play when Mia was still a little girl.
Mia, who couldn't find a husband and was often mistreated at home, at least only needed to weave enough to provide for her family. Occasionally, she could still catch a breather.
Martina, on the other hand, got married at eighteen and had a child at a young age. In her early twenties, she had to work day and night to support herself, her child, and her husband, who refused to work at the plantation. By the time she reached her mid-thirties, her body had weakened like others her age, and her eyesight was so poor that she couldn't even see a person a meter away clearly.
"Mia, what's happening?" a woman sharing the same cart with Mia couldn't see that far, so she asked the youngest among them, Mia.
"It's Martina. She seems… sick, and they carried her off the cart," Mia replied, her voice trembling.
The other four women in the cart weren't feeling too comfortable either. Upon hearing the news, their faces grew even paler.
"May the Goddess protect her," one of the women spoke, lowering her head and clasping her hands in front of her, quietly praying for their unfortunate fellow townsfolk.
For the impoverished lower class, seeking medical treatment was a foreign concept. The sick could only endure their suffering, and if they survived, it was considered a stroke of luck; if not, it was their fate.
For someone like Martina to fall ill in these circumstances was akin to a death sentence.
But what happened next was beyond Mia's expectations. Despite her poor eyesight, she saw that the undead didn't carry Martina away and discard her body. Instead, they surrounded her and performed actions that Mia couldn't comprehend.
Although she had no idea what these undead were doing, based on their body language, Mia could instinctively sense that they seemed to care for Martina and had no intention of abandoning her!
However, Mia couldn't believe her own intuition; she even questioned her own sanity.
She bit her lip, not daring to share what she saw and felt with the others in the cart. She was afraid that she would be seen as foolish, imagining unrealistic things, and going mad like the elderly often did.
A few minutes later, Martina, who had been lying motionless on the ground, coughed softly. Mia, who had been closely observing her, gasped in astonishment.
The undead were chattering, and even though Mia couldn't understand their language or decipher their skeletal faces, she could sense their joy.
"Mia? What's wrong?"
"Did something happen again?" the other women in the same cart couldn't see that far and asked anxiously.
"They saved Martina… They didn't abandon her." Mia couldn't hold back her tears, and her frail body trembled slightly. "Oh Goddess…"
Mia saw a female undead with a feminine voice help Martina remove her outer clothing and carefully move her to a three-wheeled cart that now had a canopy shade.
"Is Martina alright? Are you sure she's really okay?" the women in the cart couldn't resist standing up and asking Mia repeatedly.
"I don't know for sure, but I saw the undead carry Martina back onto the cart. They didn't abandon her; that's true," Mia replied shakily. "It seems like they think it's not good for Martina to be exposed to the sun, so they added a shade to the cart she's sitting on."
The sun was scorching today with almost no clouds in the sky, and being exposed to the sun for the entire morning was indeed uncomfortable for everyone.
The women in the cart stared at Mia in disbelief and then looked blankly into the distance, where everything was blurry to them.
Several undead, whose voices were already familiar, approached them. Some flipped the tent cloth on their neighboring tricycle carts, while others gestured and made incomprehensible sounds as if trying to communicate with them.
Instinctively, Mia and the four women in the cart huddled together and withdrew in fright.
Seeing these undead skeletons moving and speaking up close was still terrifying for most.
However, Mia didn't feel too scared for some reason.
She noticed that the undead woman in front of them, who was gesturing, had a gentle and pleasant voice.
After carefully observing her gestures for a while, Mia thought for a moment and attempted to unbutton her outerwear.
The female undead immediately raised her thumb and nodded vigorously, then turned slightly and pointed at the three-wheeled cart where Martina lay, followed by pointing at the scorching sun in the sky, tilting her head, and exaggeratedly mimicking someone falling unconscious.
A smile appeared on Mia's face.
She understood; this female undead was trying to tell her that wearing too many layers of clothes would cause problems, just like what happened to Martina.
"She's trying to tell us not to wear too thick clothes; otherwise, we might get sick like Martina," Mia mustered up her courage and spoke up. "They saved Martina, and they don't want us to get sick like her."
Throughout the journey, whether in the day or at night, most of the female civilians wore every piece of clothing they could find.
It wasn't that these women weren't afraid of the heat, but because more than half of their group consisted of men.
Even elderly, weak, or disabled men posed a threat to them because the women were equally fragile, and most of them had vision problems.
They were truly the bottom close and didn't have any fantasies about others showing being kind and pure, unlike those decent folks who lived a life of luxury and idleness.
The women exchanged glances for a moment but did not object. Then, they willingly removed their thick, suffocating clothes.
At this moment, there were only a few men left in their group, and they were all packed to the back of the convoy by the undead. There was no need for them to wrap themselves up so tightly anymore.
"Hah!" With hands on her hips, Tang Jia turned to her comrades proudly. "How about that? I really have a talent for communication, don't I? I managed to convince these NPCs in just a few moments!"
"Yes, yes, you're incredibly talented." Yang Ying walked over with a canvas and chuckled. "Ask the NPCs to get down from the carts to stretch, genius."
Behind the undead convoy, some 200 meters away.
After ascertaining that the mentality of the troops in his unit was stable, Lowell heaved a sigh of relief and ordered everyone to stay put. He then walked over to assess the situation.
The tricycle convoy was also resting. Some undead were boiling water on makeshift stoves, while others were constructing simple canopy shades for some of the carts.
Most of the civilians had removed their excessively thick clothing and were cautiously moving within a small area.
A few civilians helped each other walk to the cart where the sick person was lying, to offer their greetings and exchange some words.
Some more courageous women with limited eyesight cautiously observed the undead and even… approached them curiously, trying to communicate by gesturing awkwardly, wanting to help.
Lowell: "…"
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