Chapter 37: Giving (5)

The crowd was on the verge of losing control.

“Let me touch the Saintess’s hand!”

“Saintess, my child is sick!”

“Please save us!”

Shouts surged from all directions, blending into a tidal wave of sound.

The people, usually bowed by life’s weight, now had eyes burning with unprecedented fervor.

The soldiers’ line began to waver, some younger ones instinctively stepping back.

“Hold steady!” an older soldier roared, bracing his arm behind them.

“Put your strength into it! Shields up!”

Hearing the commotion, Mili shakily peered from behind a barrier, her face pale.

She’d never imagined her few words could cause such a stir…

“W-what do we do?” She turned to Kaya, voice hoarse.

“Panic for what?” Kaya grinned, her amber eyes twinkling with excitement:

“You did it!”

“Look at their eyes—that’s real faith!”

“B-but they’re too worked up…”

“Worked up is good!” Kaya clapped her shoulder.

“Better than lifeless.”

“Though…” She smacked her lips, tone shifting, head tilting, eyes darting:

“We do need to calm them down…”

Just then, a child’s cry rose faintly from the crowd—the girl held by her father.

She was scared, crying in the crush.

Mili froze at the sound.

“I’m going out there,” she said suddenly.

“What?” Kaya blinked. “It’s too dangerous!”

“The child’s crying.”

“I have to stop them.”

Before Kaya could react, Mili grabbed her water bottle and headed out.

“Hey! Little Saintess! Get back here!” Kaya’s attempt to stop her was too late. “Arghhh—what a mess!”

Mili nearly tripped on the steps, steadied herself, and rushed to the podium, grabbing the microphone:

“Everyone…”

Her amplified voice cut through the chaos, and she waved her small water bottle.

“Please, listen to me—”

The crowd quieted slightly.

“I know you’re excited, and I’m touched…”

“But this… large gatherings, crowding is dangerous! Stampeding can kill!”

“And a child’s already scared and crying. Can you all… step back slowly? There’s still plenty of time…”

Her words worked.

The front rows turned, looking for the crying child.

The middle-aged man, red-faced, tried soothing his daughter.

“I’m sorry… sorry…” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” Mili replied gently. “Just stay safe.”

“Can everyone… back up a bit? Give some space?”

The crowd began to retreat.

Slowly, just a small step, but it was immediate.

The girl’s cries softened.

“Thank you,” Mili said softly.

Evelyn, relieved, stepped to the stage’s edge, speaking low into her communicator: “Start distributing supplies, per the plan.”

Freed-up soldiers began handing out food and essentials in an orderly manner.

The crowd’s focus shifted, order gradually returning.

Yet, eyes kept drifting to the white-robed girl on the stage.

As teams lined up, distribution began.

But Mili didn’t stay on the platform, watching from above—she went to the distribution point, helping hand out supplies.

This made her line stretch endlessly, to no one’s surprise…

Each time someone approached, though her gaze wavered, she looked into their eyes, asking softly, “How’s your family?” or “How are the kids?”

Her approachable demeanor surprised and warmed the crowd.

“Saintess, my child’s sick…” a frail woman said timidly.

“Is it serious?” Mili asked with concern.

“Coughing… always coughing…”

“Take them to the clinic,” Mili said, handing her a bag of grain. “Health comes first.”

The woman took it, tears in her eyes: “Thank you, Saintess… thank you…”

Mili patiently answered their varied concerns.

Though nervous, facing these earnest people, her heart calmed.

These people truly needed help…

“Saintess, did you really grow these grains?” a young father, holding his child, asked curiously.

“Um… sort of?” Mili gave a shy, half-nod.

“I just did… a little something…”

“A little?” His eyes widened. “This is life-saving food!”

Others nodded in agreement.

“She’s too humble!”

“With this food, our kids won’t go hungry!”

“The Saintess is our savior!”

Blushing at the praise, Mili ducked her head, silently continuing to distribute.

Kaya leaned against a panel, watching with a playful smirk.

“Interesting…” she murmured.

“This kid’s got some real talent.”

As distribution neared its end, a commotion stirred.

“Move! Move!”

A man in tattered military fatigues shoved through the queue, limping toward Mili.

His left arm, stiff under his clothes, was clearly prosthetic, and a jagged scar ran from forehead to chin…

Soldiers, on alert, raised their weapons at a safe distance.

“Stop!” Evelyn barked at him.

He didn’t stop, pressing forward.

“I just want to see the Saintess!” he shouted. “I have something to say!”

His menacing appearance made the crowd shrink back.

Mili, startled by his roar, sat frozen behind the distribution table, sweat beading on her face.

The scarred man, targeted by a dozen guns, ignored them, staring straight at her.

Evelyn drew her sidearm, aiming:

“Last warning!”

“One more step, and we fire!”

He finally halted.

A few meters from Mili.

Soldiers encircled him, guiding others to continue receiving supplies orderly.

“W-what do you want to say…?” Mili’s voice was faint, but the microphone carried it to him.

Seeing her response, the man’s eyes flickered with complex emotions, looking at the delicate girl.

“Saintess…” His voice choked. “My son…”

“He died in the last monster attack…”

“—He was only eight!”

His eyes reddened, his prosthetic arm hanging limply.

“I carried him through the streets, blood everywhere, unstoppable…”

“He kept asking why the monsters attacked him…”

“I didn’t know how to answer!”

The plaza fell silent.

Even those collecting supplies paused, eyes darting between Mili and the man.

“I just want to ask—”

“Can you really make this world better?”

“Can you protect our children?”

“…” Mili was speechless.

Everyone awaited her answer.