"Papa Vargis, do you have any plans for the people we free from lionkin chains?" Ayame asked.
"The beastkin will be returned to their respective tribes."
"That means you don't have a plan for the non-beastkin, right?"
The old dogkin merely nodded his head.
"We'll take care of them then," I said.
"Take care of them?"
"Indeed."
He growled in irritation because of my refusal to elaborate, but he must've been quite curious because he followed me back to the ranches together with the rest of our entourage.
As we approached the fenced grounds, the murmurs of nearly eight hundred freed captives filled the air: humans, elves, and a handful of dwarves huddled together beneath the open sky, their eyes reflecting exhaustion and uncertainty. The pair of healers had done their work—Liora and Seraphiel's magic had stabilized them—but their minds were far from at peace.
They whispered among themselves, worry lacing their every word.
"Will they just leave us here?"
