The resolution of the Taran affair brought a semblance of closure to the back-and-forth. Although the Steam Knights hadn't spelled out every detail, their current stance was clear: they had no interest in getting dragged into the endless friction between the Tarans and the Victorians, provided the conflict didn't boil completely out of hand.
Overall, the outcome brought both pros and cons. But at the very least, there was no longer any immediate danger of the local garrison wiping out the Taran population overnight.
"Sigh... I kept telling myself not to get dragged into this mess," Jeanne muttered, shaking her head. "Yet here we are, right in the thick of it again. What a headache..."
Jeanne often wondered if she was simply too soft-hearted. Whenever trouble flared up right in front of her, her feet moved before her head could stop them, charging straight toward the storm's eye.
Fortunately, her resilient nature kept her from being crushed in the gears of conflict. She could only offer herself that meager comfort for now.
"We are not livestock to be slaughtered at will by those Victorians! If they dare draw their blades on us again, we should make them pay!" yelled a fiery agitator standing atop a platform in the middle of the crowded square.
"Make them pay!" a chorus of voices roared back in agreement.
The moment Jeanne returned to the quarter, she was greeted by this rallying cry. While the speech stirred hot blood in the crowd, the underlying implications sent a cold shiver down her spine.
Seeing the mob's anger being fanned by someone who was either recklessly furious or deliberately stirring up trouble, Jeanne didn't hesitate for a second. She darted forward and kicked the speaker straight off the platform.
If she let that loudmouth keep going, the situation would spiral entirely out of control. In her heart, she offered the guy a quick, silent apology.
The crowd gasped in shock at the sudden intrusion. But when they realized the intruder was just an unfamiliar girl, the last remnants of their composure threatened to evaporate completely.
"Everyone quiet down!" Jeanne barked. Her voice cut through the noise as she slammed her flagpole deep into the cobblestones, shattering the ground beneath it. "I don't know what you're planning, but I know exactly how this ends if you keep going! The Victorian troops haven't launched another attack, and the officer who plotted that attempt will face punishment!"
The sheer force of her display brought an instant, stunned silence over the square. The crowd quickly gauged that this young woman was not someone they could overpower.
Compelled by raw self-preservation, everyone stood straight and quiet, listening attentively to her words, though their individual thoughts varied wildly.
Before long, a whisper rippled through the onlookers. Someone recognized Jeanne as the mysterious girl who had saved them the previous night. Within seconds, the cold hostility in their eyes vanished, replaced by warmth and deep gratitude. She was on their side!
"I understand your rage, and I know why you're pushed to this point," Jeanne continued, her tone softening slightly. "But take my advice. You don't have the military strength to fight a war here. Stop this right now, or you'll only bring back the nightmare of last night!"
"Then what are we supposed to do?!" a man shouted from the crowd, his voice trembling with years of suppressed helplessness and fear. "Are we just supposed to sit here quietly and wait for them to butcher us? They already tried once! Who's to say they won't try again tomorrow?"
The Tarans poured out all their built-up grievances and anxieties, staring at Jeanne in desperate search of an answer.
Jeanne fell silent, torn. She searched her mind for a solution that would offer these people true fairness and safety.
"If you believe Victoria can no longer be trusted, and if living here offers you no hope for the future," Talulah's voice boomed across the area through a loudspeaker, "I give you my word: you are welcome to come to my city. There, you will never face discrimination for being Taran. As long as you are willing to live alongside the Infected without driving them away, I will welcome every single one of you, no matter how many come!"
Farther down the street, Talulah was addressing another crowd that had posed the exact same question, delivering a bold, direct answer without a moment's hesitation.
Nice work! Jeanne cheered silently in her head. Talulah had just taken the heavy burden of answering right off her hands, saving her from having to improvise a grand solution on the spot.
"You heard her!" Jeanne called out, turning back to her crowd. "What do you think of that option? Leave Victoria behind and start a brand-new life as Tarans in a city where Infected and non-Infected live side by side. That is the path we can offer you."
Silence washed over the square. Every person present fell into intense internal debate.
They weighed a heavy question: Was it truly worth abandoning everything they owned in Victoria just to preserve their Taran identity alongside the Infected? Was their pride worth that kind of sacrifice? Was it really necessary to go that far?
A portion of the crowd couldn't bring themselves to abandon their homes and roots in Victoria, even if they refused to call themselves Victorians.
However, a far greater number decided to take the leap. Even if they died along the grueling journey, it was a choice they made for themselves—and anything was better than living every single day in constant terror of military purges.
"You don't need to give us an answer right this second," Talulah's voice echoed through the speakers once more. "We'll be staying in the country for a little longer. Take your time to think it over and decide what's best for your families."
Jeanne felt immense relief. Talulah's words fit the mood like a charm, leaving Jeanne to simply nod along and play the supporting role.
"So, head back home and think it through carefully," Jeanne added with a warm wave. "And rest assured, Victoria won't be launching any attacks against you in the short term. You have my word!"
With their combined efforts, the turbulent tide of anger began to ebb. The townsfolk dispersed in quiet chatter, already discussing the logistics of a mass relocation.
As for the few agitators who still harbored lingering ambitions to stir up trouble, a single cold glare from Talulah silenced them completely. This was not the time to push their luck.
The young woman standing up there wasn't someone to be messed with. Packing a dozen of them together wouldn't survive a single burst of her Originium Arts; trying to pick a fight now was nothing short of a death wish.
And just like that, the two women defused the volatile riot—at least for the time being. Neither could predict what twists lay ahead, but both let out a long, collective sigh of relief. Stopping a potential bloodbath was a solid step in the right direction.
"Still," Jeanne mused as they walked back together, "does Chernogobyl really have the capacity to take in this many people? It'd be quite a scene if they travel all that way only to find out there are no jobs available!"
Talulah gave her friend a long, exasperated look. "You've been away for too long to know what's happening back home. Chernogobyl doesn't have a surplus of labor—it has a critical shortage of people! Especially skilled workers. We desperately need hands!"
Talulah shook her head at the girl, wondering if Jeanne remembered that she was supposed to be a core executive of Reunion. How could she ask such a basic question?
"Aside from the Infected, there aren't many residents left in Chernogobyl," Talulah explained as they walked. "And how many Infected can a single mobile city hold? Especially in a place like Ursus, having ten thousand would be a high estimate. Add in the non-Infected who chose to stay, and the total population is still incredibly thin."
Despite her exasperated tone, Talulah continued laying out the reality of Chernogobyl. The vast majority of the original populace had fled, which presented both an advantage and a drawback.
Fewer people made governance far easier. But the massive labor shortage severely hindered their ability to launch large-scale projects, such as manufacturing heavy machinery. They had plenty of advanced factories and technical blueprints—Deity Grypherburg hadn't cheaped out on that end. Emperor Fyodor had traded numerous industrial blocks in exchange for the civilian residential sectors of the non-Infected Ursus citizens.
In truth, if they had enough manpower and raw resources right now, constructing a brand-new mobile city wouldn't be out of the question. The only missing piece was the people!