Then you would have to ask the little writers of Thunder City. They must have pieced together the Imperial nobles from those around them.
Luo Yan adjusted his cuff and followed Erin into the refugee camp, while Sarah, Theresa, and others followed behind them.
What met their eyes was sheer devastation, not the watered-down version from a minstrel, but actual visible misery.
Erin looked at those curled up in corners, covered in bandages, with her emerald green eyes flashing with undisguised compassion and anger.
Some were missing legs, others arms; some had backs mutilated to the point they couldn't even lie down and could only lay face-down...
"This is... too much."
Erin's voice trembled slightly.
Luo Yan noticed her fist clenched tightly at her side, the leather glove creaking from excessive force.
He stepped forward, offering gentle comfort.
"At least they've survived."
Erin was silent for a long time and sighed softly.
