"Ibaminuo! Ibaminuo!"
An anxious shout came from behind, and Ibaminuo stopped his large strides.
"What's wrong?"
The young man with a garlic nose in a linen robe was panting heavily, supporting his knees: "Someone fell behind, someone fell behind."
"Who, who fell behind?"
"From the Si Kevin's Family."
"Damn it." Pushing through the crowded refugees, Ibaminuo walked towards the end of the line.
If the Lancer Squad caught them, it would be over.
In early October, the rains were no longer as frequent as before.
September's downpours had completely taken away the heat.
The sun in the cold sky shone but without much warmth, instead, the thin linen clothes were swept by a cool breeze, causing uncontrollable shivers.
Muddy puddles reflected the clear sky, and only the rainwater dripping from the green leaves could show that it had rained a lot recently.
The dirt roads, covered with puddles, were not as desolate as usual.
