The residents of the Cossack settlement (God gave them the name) flatly refused to deal with the wizards and those who supported them. In addition, they said that they would not let anyone else into their homes, and that the building materials we had brought would partly be used to build barracks to which the refugees would be evicted, and partly would become a kind of emergency fund. The barracks would be built on the outskirts of the village, just behind the two-story building I was going to rebuild. And the group with the fire mage was forbidden to approach the village with a single shot, threatening to shoot without warning.
I... they tried to restore relations with me on the same level as before. Jack Smith came, saying something, promising, persuading. Then he was replaced by the man in the vest, who repeated almost the same words, but was also probing the matter of overthrowing the existing authorities and establishing a normal order (I did not understand what he meant by that). He berated Jack and his minions, the Belovs, and argued that they were persecuting the magicians for nothing. His speeches made my ears curl up into tubes, though I admit that a lot of things struck a chord with me, and I can't take away his ability to have a heartfelt conversation.
On the third day after the confrontation with the village healer, Lucas Wilson, came to his senses. Fortunately, there were no consequences from his long comatose state, or maybe his body was not threatened by them. He could not heal anyone at once, but promised that it was temporary and he had enough days to recover.
On the fourth day the pyromaniac Eduard said that he and his group were going away from the "village of fools", as he called the settlement. Along with him he decided to leave the twenty-seven people who had come to the village from the grocery stores. Not only that, they were joined by at least fifty of the settlement's first refugees, who were not happy with the established order.
And I and my golems left with them.
Honestly, when I saw the dumbfounded faces of Jack, that camouflage abuser, and a number of the Cossack ambush's authoritative residents, it was as if a healing balm had gone through my soul.
It seems that only at the sight of a string of people and a couple of cars (my "loafers" and the "Niva" of one of the villagers) they realized what an ass they had shoved the entire settlement of earthlings into. Golems marched past one another, the number of which increased by one, a Chappy clone who had not acquired a name. The fire-worshippers (ha-ha-ha, that sounds good) gave me blood by shooting some critter in the woods and decanting the scarlet liquid into plastic bottles.
We decided to establish our settlement behind the forest in a clear field. To Cossack Ambush was more than a hundred kilometers in a straight line (approximately), to the metropolis sixty to seventy kilometers and less than forty, somewhere thirty or so from the strange city ruins, which I found a long time ago during the epic rescue of models. No one had ever gotten around to visiting them, though it was not just me, but at least a third of us.