780 The Loser’s Last Words

Six hours earlier, a long stream of people marched through the wilderness on the road that had been cleared ahead of them. There were still stalks of grass on the ground, and traces of wild game could still be seen on the road that had been cleared not long before.

After the rain, there were mud and puddles on the ground.

The sound of chanting and singing could be heard in the distance.

The barefooted peasants pushed their families in carts, following the guidance and the call of the divine. They brought barely any rations with them as they embarked towards a world of ice and snow.

In a few short months, the once barren Commonwealth of Caucasian had become a sort of heaven on earth, or so it seemed.

Everywhere there was fertile soil.