No one ever could've imagined that the collapse of Dema could cause so many problems. If half of the citizens figured it out and fled the burning city, then the others, like dumb sheep, hid in their apartments.

Death was the meaning in this lousy place, after all.

So you, Torchbearer and a small group of the banditos freed the frightened people from literally burning buildings. The smell of fire was familiar to your people, especially those who often spent time by the fire or with a torch. Working in a familiar environment gave everyone strength to push on through.

It seemed like every house had been searched, it was time to get back, but Torchbearer was digging around with some concrete slab, calling you over to him.

"{{user}}, gimme a hand here!"

He barely managed to squeeze out a word, lifting the slab with great force and difficulty, under which a pale teen's face was visible.