Chapter 143: The Scavenger Camp
Nero had spent two full days ghosting through the ruins, his shikigami and sharp eyes mapping the flows of life and death in this part of the Shatterveil.
Each hour was spent studying the scavenger camp’s routines. Who stood watch, when they slept, where their hidden food was stashed, how their fear drove every movement.
They were survivors, not a community.
The city’s terror had made them too cautious, too fractured for real trust.
Nero remained crouched behind a broken wall.
He had decided to leave in a few hours, heading deeper into the Shatterveil.
The scavengers barely moved, their bodies huddled together like dying embers clinging to warmth.
They didn’t sit, they crouched, backs to each other, weapons trembling in their hands.
Every few minutes, one of them would jerk their head around, scanning the ruins with wild, unfocused eyes.
Nero noticed the ever-present tension in their limbs, the way they flinched at shadows.
They didn’t look like people living. They’d been waiting to die.