Backlund, Queens District, inside the Hall family's villa.
The graceful and elegant Countess Hall entered Audrey's bedroom.
Her daughter, who had been waiting for a long time, immediately stood up to greet her.
"Mother! How did it go?"
Audrey asked urgently.
"Your father is still at the palace, but he had a servant bring back news."
The Countess replied.
"The situation has been brought under control, but unfortunately, over ten thousand people in the East District still died..."
Over ten thousand people...
Audrey's mouth opened slightly, then she unconsciously pressed her lips tightly together.
Such an enormous number. Behind each one was a living life, just like Kons...
"Audrey, you did well."
The Countess noticed the subtle change in her daughter's expression and immediately showed a gentle smile.
She stepped forward and took her hand.
"If not for you, the situation wouldn't have been controlled so quickly, and many times more people would have died. You saved many people. All of Backlund should thank you!"
No, the one who truly discovered the problem was a Blessed under Mr. Fool.
I only transmitted the information.
Feeling her mother's warm palm and using her "Telepathist" ability to self-regulate, Audrey quickly calmed down.
This wasn't false modesty but objective fact.
However, being able to serve as a reliable source and quickly transmit information to the three major churches was also her advantage.
Mr. Fool specifically chose me and told me this secret, which means He has expectations of me...
If stopping Duke Negan's assassination attempt last time had only brought Audrey a sense of accomplishment, these recent events had given her more complex feelings.
She truly saw the dangers of the Beyonder world, but also felt the weight of responsibility. Her efforts could very likely save many lives!
I should advance!
Initially, Audrey had become a Beyonder only out of interest. Now, she had a much heavier goal.
At the next Tarot Club meeting, I'll continue seeking the main ingredients for "Psychologist"...
She thought to herself while helping her mother out of the bedroom.
————
Night, East District.
Silas walked expressionlessly through the streets.
He used his eyes to witness everything happening in the East District.
"Rumble, rumble..."
Heavy carriages constantly passed by him. The carts carrying corpses had very large beds.
The bodies were packed in shrouds, piled high like cargo.
The coachman's eyes were bloodshot, his mouth covered with white cloth as he whipped the wailing horses.
Their hooves slipped on the cold, wet ground, struggling to move forward.
The carriages carrying the injured carried fewer passengers but moved faster. The enclosed compartments were filled with rising and falling coughs.
Often, some of those sounds gradually faded before reaching the treatment facilities.
Silas followed the carriages' direction to their destination.
"May you rest in peace and go to the land of storms and lightning..."
An exhausted, numb old priest roughly traced his chest, performing soul-calming rituals for batch after batch of corpses before him.
Behind him, corpses were piled like mountains.
In this world with the extraordinary, if bodies weren't promptly given soul-calming rituals, they could likely produce bad consequences.
Facing tens of thousands of dead, the clergy could only repeat the ritual non-stop, nearly collapsing.
"Don't do it here! Our family believes in the Goddess..."
"Get out of the way! No time to deal with you now!"
The family members of the deceased cried out to stop them, but were roughly shoved aside by others.
Everyone's faces were full of hostility. Everyone was exhausted to the extreme.
"Dead, all dead!"
A young man sat on the ground wailing.
"On Covent Street, I'm the only one left alive!"
Next to the soul-calming ritual was the cremation point. Huge furnaces burned with golden-red light, flames roaring.
Thick black smoke surged up the chimneys. Looking down from above, the entire East District was lit by scattered points of firelight.
This East District that fell into darkness every night was, for the first time, so bright.
"Thank goodness the Steam Church is helping, otherwise there'd be no way to quickly build so many cremation furnaces..."
An unknown official Beyonder stared numbly at the flames and said, "Say, why didn't they mark their products with the triangle holy emblem this time?"
"They were right not to. Is this anything glorious?"
Another person replied.
The ashes from cremation were packed into crude boxes and temporarily piled to one side, awaiting unified burial.
Silas silently watched all this. His ears buzzed with distant echoing voices:
"By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground."
"For dust you are and to dust you will return..."
He ignored the voice and turned to continue walking forward.
"Herbs! We're out of herbs!"
"Sir, please save my child!"
"Make way here, make way!"
He walked to a Goddess Church and saw the injured lying on straw mats, lined up from inside the church all the way outside.
Clamor rose and fell, as noisy as if there were ten markets.
Countless people bustled about, treating patients. Among them were both clergy and healthy East District residents and those with mild infections.
Silas's gaze focused.
Among the busy medical personnel, he actually saw his young landlady, Emily. She was carefully feeding medicine to a patient.
Suddenly, as if sensing his gaze, she looked up across the street but only saw an empty space...
Silas continued walking forward. His eyes grew redder and redder.
The sky overhead was filled with the wailing cries of countless dead—the most extreme emotions and souls remaining after they were roughly exorcised.
Ordinary people without spirit vision couldn't see them, and even ordinary Beyonders had difficulty perceiving them.
Only he, the Shepherd most easily attuned to suffering, knew.
The extreme remnant souls of tens of thousands of dead, wailing desperately in this world where no one paid attention to them...
————
Queens District, Sodlark Palace.
This magnificent palace was currently brilliantly lit, as bright as day.
Count Hall, the Prime Minister, and many other important figures of the kingdom had come to the front hall.
They gathered in small groups, occasionally conversing in low voices.
On the other side, the three major churches had also sent their representatives, waiting calmly with composed expressions.
"We really must thank your family for the timely information..."
Prime Minister Agushid Negan couldn't help but say to Count Hall.
"It's nothing."
Count Hall didn't want to reveal his daughter's secrets and simply shook his head briefly.
He unconsciously looked toward the other nobles and members of parliament.
Finding that these people's faces showed no sadness over the tragedy but instead eager anticipation, he couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
As a political old fox, Count Hall knew very well what these people were thinking.
Nothing more than using this opportunity to pressure the royal family and thereby gain more benefits.
After all, the disaster was ultimately confined to the East District. Only some poor people died... They wouldn't care.
Just then, he noticed the back door of the front hall opening. The Palace Steward hurried in.
"What did His Majesty say?"
Count Hall and the others crowded forward to ask.
"His Majesty says that Prince Edessak was seduced by a Demoness and attempted treason..."
The Palace Steward, sweating on his forehead, said tremblingly.
Everyone looked shocked.
After this, the Palace Steward presented George III's compensation plan: new seats in the House of Lords with new selection rules, the air pollution act would be passed, minimum working hours would be guaranteed, poor law reform, allowing the three major churches to enter the military...
The crowd erupted in commotion. Even the transcendent clergy showed slight emotion.
This was better than the best conditions they'd wanted!
The King had truly made enormous concessions this time!
"It's over..."
Count Hall sighed softly in his heart, knowing that this group in the palace had been fed their fill and no one would pursue the deaths of the poor anymore.
Feelings of relief, exhaustion, and irony simultaneously surged in this political elite's heart. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond.