Not far away, a group of refugees, dressed in rags and with sallow faces, all kneeled down.
"Thank you, sir, for saving us!"
"Thank you, sir!"
They shouted with gratitude and tears, as if they had seen their savior.
The swordsman did not turn back, only speaking in a deep voice.
"Take the opportunity now and leave quickly, take the smaller, more secluded paths, and seek refuge in the nearest city."
Upon hearing this, the refugees' expressions changed.
"Sir, won't you come with us?"
"Please come with us!"
"We need you!"
"Without someone as strong as you to protect us, we will surely die!"
The refugees once again bowed down.
But what they were met with was only a sharp gaze.
"Don't push your luck, leave quickly."
The cold words turned the refugees' faces pale all of a sudden.
Realizing that the strong person before them couldn't ensure their complete safety, they could only leave with faces of disappointment, despair, and even anger and resentment.
