After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World

A few hours later, the former slaves were woken up by the delicious smell of food. Some groaned and rolled around while kicking away the lethargy, while others dragged their feet to peek over the window, immediately injected with energy at what they saw.

They saw people barbecuing meat at the plaza! There were also large pots with gruel, and there was also a table with small bread!! How?!

There were already queues of people, and they hurried up to join them.

"Hurry! Before more people come in!"

This was the sight happening in several houses, with famished people rushing over to a single place to eat. It could've easily turned chaotic, but fortunately, the mercenaries were there to keep order while the rescuers handled the food.

By this time, the Alterrans, the mercenaries, and the like had already eaten their fill, prepared for a long feeding process of thousands of people.

People lined up properly to get fed. They had limited amounts of cups and bowls, though, so they began a sort of system.

The people would get their bowls and cups in the gruel area, where they'd have soup with rice as well as water for drinking. After that, they could get their own pieces of meat and bread with their hands.

After eating, they would return the bowl and cups to a designated area where water users would wash them to be reused.

The rescuers also considered getting the slaves to help with the food, but the effect of the 'illness' still hadn't faded, so there was still pus on their bodies.

It was a bit disgusting, even if it wasn't infectious, so they didn't involve them in the food making.

However, they did assign the ones who were healing already to get the meat from the other side of the territory and butcher it. These people's wounds had already dried, and the 'wounds' should peel off within another day or two without leaving marks.

This would be in exchange for a few extra slices of meat, so many people volunteered, though they had to be carefully checked for hygiene.

That said, the former slaves felt like they were in heaven eating this food! The gruel was thick and had many herbs and spices, the bread was actually fluffy, and the meat was soft and flavorful!

Delicious! So delicious!

The Alterrans and the other rescuers enjoyed watching others love their food. This was the result of adding a few spices to their food. It was not even that expensive, particularly if they were Alterran. Even Harold's monster meat softening formula was a household item, and many people had gallons in their cellars.

Anyway, this bit of food would be cemented in people's memories, like it had with many of them.

As they ate, the rescuer team also designated a place for rescued folk who were looking for relatives and friends.

To control the number of people there, they limited it to a few people at a time, and only after they had already eaten, which definitely slowed down the flow of people because they would be busy eating and appreciating good food.

"So we just have to wait here until the rest of the rescued Terrans come?" Mao asked, leisurely resting against a rock.

"That's what I heard."

"But wouldn't that take days?"

"They're all elementalists," Sammy said. "From what I've heard, they were all trained, too. I have personally seen that, with proper support and equipment, most of them can carry their own weight."

Mao and the others blinked and looked at the nearest rescued person next to him. "Is it true?"

It happened to be Ersat and his niece, Yulia, who blinked and nodded awkwardly. "Well, we're not that good, especially not like Gurnam and the others—Gurnam was one of us, though many of them were sent elsewhere."

Mao and the others remembered who Gurnam was (he should be in a mission nearby), but they didn't interrupt the story.

"Can you tell us more about your experiences there?"

"In order to train us to become great fighters, they often threw us into corrales to fight for our lives," Ersat said, unconsciously gripping the cloth of his pants. "We had to if we wanted to live, let alone eat."

It was why, even if they weren't really that strong, anyone who had survived for so long could actually carry their weight as long as they were going against monsters at their own level, and if they had enough energy, the latter of which was made sparse by their own 'masters'.

"We would fight a few times every day. Even if we're exhausted and cannot not longer drag ourselves, we will have no choice."

By this time, more people had arrived to eat nearby them. When they heard what the man was talking about, their moods shifted, and their heads leaned down. Fortunately, the food smelled delicious and kept their depression at bay.

"They would give us food and water in proportion to how many we managed to kill," he said. "Many would prefer to miss a few meals than risk getting eaten, but we're slaves—after a while, we do not have a choice."

Ersat gritted his teeth as he told the story, feeling both sad and angry for the people they lost.

The atmosphere amongst everyone in earshot was similar, as if everyone was reminded of the horrid things they experienced in the aborigine town.

"Worse, if we can't handle monsters early in the day… they would pit us against each other."

It was horrible how those bastards treated them. The only fortunate part was that they were all elementalists, so their lives were a bit more valued. Otherwise, they'd have become like those gladiators who killed each other for the entertainment of the masters.

In fact, they did have fighting rings for that in Voumi Town. There were normal fights and people would bet and make money.

The most lucrative was watching slaves kill each other. However, after they arrived, elementalist spars also became a more common—and lucrative—attraction.

It was wasteful, but it also showed the status of the town. It showed that they could afford to use elementalists this way!

The difference was that it was not a fight to the death. As long as they pushed the other out of the ring, they'd have won.

However, the catch was that there had to be a bit of blood spilled, and a good fight shown, otherwise both elementalist would be punished.

Sometimes, whether it was because of the spar or the punishment after, they would gain a disability or a serious injury. By then, they'd become a 'reject' and their lives would dip further.

This was all for a bite to eat.

At this, he couldn't help but look at the bowl with rice, bread, and the treated meat in his hand. This was food that was valuable even to commoners, and yet these people gave it all out carelessly.

As if they were fed and rewarded...just because they survived.

Ersat's eyes heated up, and his tears fell. He wondered if his gruel would be saltier now.

"...thank you," he said after gathering himself, but his voice was hoarse. "For taking us away from that place."