Chapter 834 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 834: The Empire's Downfall The veteran soldier followed General McClen deep into the military camp. As he walked, he carefully observed the arrangement of the camp, growing increasingly alarmed by what he saw. There were 100mm field guns stationed under camouflage nets, alongside 380mm weapons typically found on warships, now mounted on tracks and brought ashore. In addition, there were various bizarre steel machines, some resembling supply transport vehicles, others designed for air defense and support. Unlike when he was in the Luoxia Province, where the Eastern Expansion faction's ten divisions of ten thousand men each were severely lacking ammunition due to the extended supply lines. The situation here was quite different. They not only had ample ammunition, they had prepared for every conceivable consumption need of the war. To be honest, this much material couldn't have been mobilized on short notice... While the veteran soldier surveyed his surroundings, General McClen stopped before a grey camouflage tent, nodded to the guard at the entrance, and walked inside through the drawn-up flap. The veteran soldier hurriedly followed him into the spacious tent. McClen picked up a kettle, poured tea for the both of them, and sat down at the table, gesturing for the other to sit. "Have a seat." The veteran soldier nodded, sat down solemnly across from him, pondering what McClen wanted to discuss. To his surprise, McClen said nothing, merely taking a sip of tea and posing a question instead. "What do you think of this place?" The veteran soldier was taken aback, confused. "In what regard is the general asking?" "All aspects," McClen replied casually. "I'd like your opinion on the deployment here." So, he wanted a general opinion? The veteran soldier dreaded the word "general," but pressed on nonetheless. "There's quite a bit of equipment stored here... seems intended for far more than just one or two battles." He paused, then had a sudden flash of insight. "It's exactly like the front lines in Luoxia Province!" McClen's lips curled into a slight smile, nodding in approval. "Not bad, your ability to observe hasn't dulled." What observational skill was needed for something so obvious? The veteran soldier chuckled, suppressing the urge to retort, then asked with knitted brows. "What is the Southern Legion planning?" McClen chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? Haven't you deduced it by now?" Of course. What they intended was clear from the soldiers' faces at the port. It was nothing less than a complete extermination of the cursed Xilan people! No need for any formal call to arms. As someone from another race, the veteran soldier found it hard to empathize with them, but it allowed him to think calmly. "I don't quite understand... why would the Civilian Group align with them on this? Even if the Legion gains vast territories, Triumph City's civilian authority would suffer, their meager sphere of influence further reduced. Is this really in their interest?" McClen smiled faintly. "It's good you can consider the different interests within the Legion's factions. Most outsiders... even the Vilanders themselves, often misunderstand this large political entity as a monolithic hive. But knowing the different faction interests isn't enough; you also need to analyze their actions to achieve these goals." Seeing McClen was inclined to elaborate, the veteran soldier encouraged him. "Please, General, enlighten me!" McClen didn't beat around the bush, diving straight into the heart of the matter. "…The Civilian Group has long criticized the Empire's weaknesses on various fronts. You're likely aware of this." "Duke Galava's conduct during the Federation's conference left us, as allies, in a difficult position. Chief Bannott has expressed dissatisfaction with him more than once. Considering how someone like that ends up in such critical roles, you can imagine the incompetence of Utor himself. He might have a knack for political balancing acts, but his 'add flour if the soup's too thin, add water if it's too thick' approach only worked for feudal dynasties." The veteran soldier nodded. "Indeed… Duke Galava managed to offend almost everyone at the Federation." "Diplomacy is just one facet. Economically and industrially, don't even mention it. The little wealth we painstakingly helped them accumulate ultimately benefited their allied factions. The steel and cement we produced for them all went into the rebels' hands… We've seen this, but just being anxious won't help. Utor is like a deaf mute, still fantasizing that a piece of technology or a battleship can save the Empire." McClen continued with a smile. "So the Civilian Group conceived an idea: wouldn't it be great if the Empire had a new emperor?" "A more resolute emperor, ideally injecting some militarism into the feudal Empire. In this way, the Empire could be of some use. The new empire doesn't need to be very strong, just fierce enough to bare its fangs when needed." "Executing this plan was rather simple. The Werewolves, who shed blood for the Empire, accumulated a lot of dissatisfaction. Their children bled on the front lines, yet the Empire never cared for their fate. They were like a rag, bearing all the filth before being discarded in Western Port after squeezing out every last drop of value." "As a mentor to many Lupine officers, I clearly perceived their internal struggle. They actually have a stronger desire for reform than those pen-pushers writing 'Red Soil,' and they certainly wield forces that those writers don't possess." "All they lack is a starter fund to kick off their venture. This was easy to arrange—just borrow it from the Eastern Legion. They excel at using others' resources to accomplish their own goals, just like how they brought me here as an instructor." "…So, what you're saying is, the Civilian Group’s thought…", the veteran soldier hesitated over the word conspiracy but decided against using it, realizing this wasn't a forum and McClen was indeed the Legion's leader, so he held back. McClen discerned his hesitation, responding with a faint smile. "While I was a captive of the Alliance, I picked up a term, or rather a saying: ‘The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.’" The veteran soldier suddenly understood, instinctively lowering his voice. "You mean… the Southern Legion is leveraging the Civilian Group's strategy?" "Smart." McClen nodded in approval, his voice steady. "If I'm right, the Civilian Group plans for retired Gray Wolf officers and soldiers to launch a coup. With the Gray Wolves on the front line, they intend to swiftly seize Tian Du and establish a militaristic regime." "In doing so, the Legion will expand from four to five. The fifth Legion, built by Balloran and remotely controlled by the Civilian Group, would operate outside the constraints of ancient accords. It could attack when advantageous or retreat when necessary." "They tried a clever ploy, and the corporations, ever proficient at appeasement and self-deception, would surely not intervene. The only unpredictable element is the Alliance, but they are limited in action, given the Legion's absence of military presence in the east, despite this puppet being slightly oversized." "Everything remains within the permissible scope of the rules. We have not crossed the red line; we've merely brushed its edges." The veteran soldier stared at him, face full of astonishment. Before arriving, Bannott mentioned being betrayed by an ally, yet he hadn’t elaborated like this. He thought the "ally" referred to the Empire, not realizing it meant the Southern Legion. Seeing the armadillo's disbelief, McClen chuckled softly and continued. "However, not everyone is content with just brushing by. Some ambitious players have not only utilized the layouts of the Civilian Group but also added their own stakes to the scales." "Once the necessary people had evacuated, the insurgence occurred as expected. However, it was a man named Janush who rose to the top, clearly a scapegoat." "Then the blaze erupted larger than anticipated, transforming the reckoning against the Empire into a reckoning against both the Empire and the Vilanders, resulting in the deaths of over three thousand Vilander civilians. Now, even the Civilian Group wouldn’t dare boast this as their handiwork. They're left pretending to be deaf and mute, while trying to extinguish the flames." The veteran soldier couldn't help but ask. “…What benefit does this bring to the Southern Legion?” Looking towards the entrance of the tent, McClen smiled slightly. “The advantage is exactly what you observed outside; they can swiftly continue their expansion,” McClen explained with a knowing smile. “Once war ignites, it won’t just burn within the Boro Province. Our affiliates in the Luoxia Province will also be drawn in. At Falcon Kingdom’s current strength, it's only a matter of moments before they’re overwhelmed by the nearby honey badger, especially if they get a helping hand from the Alliance.” The veteran soldier spoke gravely, “Do you want this war to happen?” Instead of a direct response, McClen poured himself another cup of tea and nonchalantly asked back, “What do you think?” Straight to the point, the veteran soldier replied, “Given what you’ve shared, it seems you want to prevent the fire from spreading any further.” “You’re perceptive.” McClen showed appreciation once again, sipping his tea. “I can tell you this fire has certain benefits for me, personally. But if it continues, it won't be beneficial in the long term—for me or for the Eastern Legion.” Without hesitation, the veteran soldier asked, “What can I do to stop the fire?” McClen beckoned him closer and whispered, “Certain individuals within the Celestial Army betrayed their original patrons. Or more accurately, they were offered more by the Southern Legion... These people will be sensitive to emissaries from the Civilian Group. I’m sure Bannott warned you about whom to watch out for when you reach the capital.” The veteran soldier nodded seriously. “The man named Absek, rumored to be made the Grand Duke of Lion State by the Heavenly King—” “Shh.” McClen motioned for silence, lowering his voice further. “I’m not interested in names; what matters is you remember them. Once there, you need to present a position of peace talks to Janush and claim you’re there representing Triumph City.” “I’d wager Janush will be secretly delighted, regardless of his outward posturing. He knows well enough that with his current might, defeating the Legion is impossible. Whether he turns to the Legion or the Alliance, he needs a way out. The deaths are easily dealt with by pinning the blame on those previously purged—80,000 lives for 3,000 seems like an abundant trade for everyone… but that depends on whether the Legion accepts his ‘accounting’.” “You must make him believe that the Legion is inclined to accept this, while asserting that 80,000 lives aren’t enough—they must surrender Lion State as compensation.” The veteran soldier looked at McClen, realization dawning on him. “You’re trying to stir up internal conflict by targeting Absek’s lands…” McClen shook his head but nodded. “It doesn’t matter whose land it is. What matters is that your terms will awaken those collaborating with the Southern Legion to the reality that while the Civilian Group just wants new allies, the Southern Legion aims for their lands. They won’t hesitate to betray their promises or leave them hanging in favor of allying with Janush.” “That fear and uncertainty are what we need. They’ve killed so many Vilanders, and if the Southern Legion defaults on their promises, they’ll be left as clowns buried in the earth… Once they're afraid, they’ll press the Southern Legion for additional guarantees, even taking rash actions. That’s when our window of opportunity arrives.” A spark lit in the veteran soldier’s eyes. “You want me to find evidence of the Southern Legion’s involvement?” McClen nodded. “Correct, but evidence alone isn’t enough. Denying it or disconnecting from it is easy, a single scapegoat would suffice. You must seek external strategies, such as leaking information to the Alliance. The Alliance possesses warships and connections with corporations and academies. Only their intervention can temper these reckless incendiaries… at least enough for them to weigh the consequences of getting directly involved.” The veteran soldier was stunned by McClen’s pragmatism in leveraging the Alliance against the Southern Legion. Could someone in his position truly propose such a plan? “Uh…” Seeing the armadillo’s shocked expression, General McClen assumed he misunderstood his intentions as treachery. Yet, he offered no further explanation, simply reclining in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I don’t see it as betrayal. It's about preventing a bunch of ambitious fools from dragging us into an abyss.” “Though I might not be standing in the most authoritative position to express this sentiment… if you trust me, do as I’ve advised.” ... The night in Western Port was quiet, the Southern Legion meticulously preparing for a full-scale invasion of Boro Province, as if the fuse had already ignited on the larger powder keg. The following morning. Another passenger ship docked at Western Port. The traces of blood and corpses had been cleaned, yet the scars left by the shelling remained. Some people knelt on the deck, while others wept uncontrollably. They were families of the victims… Observing the devastation, Penne, standing on deck, covered her mouth, her shoulders quivering. “…This is just too much.” Reportedly, only some children survived, sheltered by the Silver Moon Church. The rest died, suffering in torment and despair... At that moment, Penne suddenly recalled her father’s insistence on her returning home or at least going to Evernight Port to find her uncle, Ross. Shortly after, the governor’s mansion at Western Port announced a huge amount of military supplies available for purchase along Death Coast… first come, first served. Her eyes widened, a grim realization dawning with a reporter’s intuition. Could her father have been involved… ... On the ship, the Vilanders gazed at the port, and those on the dock returned the stare. The “Warfaring Wolf,” burdened with bags, suddenly spoke after a long silence. “I’ve come to feel that maybe the Legion isn’t as benevolent as it seems.” They were about to set sail for the capital, presently on the Alman, gathering their belongings. The mischievous stick glanced at him, slapping a hand on his shoulder with a grin. “Brother, let me ask—when did you ever get the impression they were benevolent?” Old Wolf shot a sideways glance at him, then turned to the passenger ship and the people on deck. “I don’t know, maybe just an intuition… They seem to treat their own quite well.” The mischievous stick responded humorously. “What’s so good about them? The Vilander hunks on Triumph News with their B-cups, or the way they use massive calibers to avenge fallen comrades? Honestly, can a roaring cannon revive the dead? To me, it seems burning paper money does more, at least ensuring they live comfortably in the afterlife.” Viland officers who remained in the Alliance indeed burned paper for fallen expedition soldiers. Who taught them, heaven knows. Old Wolf stubbornly replied. “But they at least avenged them.” Seeing amusement in the conversation, the old stick chuckled and taunted. “Really? Is the enemy still here in Western Port or did they follow us to the capital?” “Frankly, where does hatred even stem from? Not all casualties in the Great Rift were clones; those poor souls had families and children too, but no one to even collect their bodies, only scavengers rummaging through their remains. A people humane enough to honor their dead? The losses there far exceeded those here!” Old Wolf was momentarily lost for words. He wanted to argue that those soldiers were different than the civilians here, yet couldn’t articulate their fundamental disparity. In essence, they were all mere gambles. While playing different games, they gambled on a practically impossible victory. If they won, their sacrifices would be significant, but what that significance entailed, he couldn't articulate. Did the Legion not already have enough land? Yet their utopia remained out of reach. As for that great expedition, they did win. While, according to "Triumph News," the Alliance and desert nations lost with bitterness, struggling to endure despite the interventions of corporations and academies. And the Great Rift cowered behind the Sacred Shield without daring to stir—not even participating in negotiations. Militarism coupled with racism—a full debuff stack, yet people keep praising them. Wife cakes at least have cake even without a wife, but these guys are all 'Ikokw' and 'Tatakay,' and they reserve the harshest treatment for their own.” The Mischief Stick continued to jab at the speechless Old Wolf with his jokes. Not wanting the two to start arguing again, the Old Eagle quickly interjected with a cough. "Alright, let's stop this pointless banter. Save the cosplay for later... About the quality of the Legion—why don’t you ask Vanus? He’s a military aristocrat, after all." Old Wolf nodded earnestly. “...I’ll pay him a visit when we get back to Dawn City.” The Old Eagle sighed, squinting at the port and the nearby cityscape. “We can discuss future matters later. Right now, let’s focus on this damned mission and how we're going to complete it.” The Pipe Dog rolled his eyes. “Could we stop with the constant 'damned this' and 'damned that'? Seriously, I talk the least among us.” The Mischief Stick grinned and teased, “But you have a lot of unnecessary blather!” Pipe Dog: “@#%@!” Watching the argument between the two erupt once again, the Old Eagle rubbed his forehead, ready to intervene. Just then, a familiar voice in their hometown dialect interrupted. “Well, what a coincidence! Are you all here for a mission too?” The four turned in unison to see a player without a VM standing there. “Whoa!” “Boss!!!” “Armadillo!” Seeing the veteran standing before them, the four rookies were visibly excited, especially the Old Eagle. The double agent of the Alliance, Armadillo! With a boss like him around, this mission would be a breeze! He was ready to just coast along, having resolved to merely ride things out. Looking at these fresh recruits full of vitality, the veteran soldier offered a helpless smile. All because of a joke those bastards cracked that day, his nickname had become more famous than his actual ID. “You better not act too friendly with me… Please do me this favor.” The Old Eagle instantly put on a serious face, pretending to be filled with hatred, and muttered under his breath, “Got it, brother… We’re enemies. By the way, I didn’t see you mention you were coming on the forum?” The veteran soldier didn’t put on such an act, merely adopting his usual poker face. Shrugging, he quietly replied, “The forum is so huge, posts get buried all the time. I did private message you guys earlier on the forum, but when you didn’t respond, I decided to come online.” The Mischief Stick suggested, “...This isn’t the best place to chat. Why don’t we go offline and talk?” The veteran soldier lowered his voice, “No need to chat; you’ll come with me to the capital… Uh, I’m an emissary of the Legion, and you play the Alliance’s role. Once we’re in the capital, there’s someone we need to find.” The Pipe Dog piped up excitedly, “Got it! We're looking for that informant, right?” An informant? What informant? Did he mean Absek? The veteran soldier was momentarily taken aback, then nodded. “Yes, an informant of sorts… Good, you've already received the mission? That simplifies things, let’s move out.” Old Wolf asked with some concern, “If we act together, won't the Heavenly Army assume we’ve reached some agreement?” The veteran soldier chuckled. “It doesn’t matter. Let them think that; it’ll actually work to our advantage for our mission.” While the five of them discussed their next steps, the news of Tiandu’s fall spread throughout Boro Province. Heavenly King Janush had declared his ascension! Deeming it the Janush Dynasty! Along with elevating thirteen Lupine kings! Not only that, but rumors circulated about the atrocities committed by the Heavenly Army in the city. Outrage swept through the Empire. Upon hearing his harem was taken over, Utor, who was dining lavishly on a ship, fainted on the spot, collapsing into the arms of his elder ministers. “His Majesty has fainted!” “Quick! Call the royal physician!” “What’s the point of calling the physician? You’re going to infuriate me to death too! Dock quickly and get him to a hospital!” The deck of the royal merchant ship descended into chaos. The elder nobility, midway through their meals and noticing the feast was over, rushed to gather what they could into plastic bags, loading in even the serving ware. Amid the confusion, the frantic antics of those attempting to save the emperor juxtaposed with the comedic distraction of the feasting nobles... Yet this pandemonium wasn’t limited to one small boat on the Eternal River. Nearby Lowell State, not too far off Tiger State and Leopard State, and even 马州 near Mammoth State were entangled in the chaos. The warlords of the Tiger Army were the first to send a telegram, vehemently condemning the savage acts of the Heavenly Army, declaring they wouldn’t tolerate a filthy hyena on the backs of the Tiger people. Though the Black Panther Army was a bit late in their reaction, they too sent a telegram to the capital, condemning the rebellion and affirming allegiance to the Emperor and the Xilan Dynasty. They even extended an invitation to Jin Galun Port, offering refuge to the Emperor if needed. Additionally, the Black Panther Army communicated with the Tiger Army, establishing a mutual defense pact. If either was attacked by the Heavenly Army or the Legion, the other would provide military support in response. It was evident that the warlords had some astute strategists, having even considered a potential Legion offensive. In contrast, other states were less resolute than the formidable Black Panther and Tiger armies. Take, for instance, the Northern Three States. The central Elephant State, Southern Snake State, Western Lion State, Bull State, and Wolf State had seemingly resigned to surrender. Truthfully, resistance wasn't feasible. With only the city guards, even securing evacuation time seemed doubtful. Along the border of Mammoth State, 马州 maintained silence but had clearly resigned, placing their hope in the bandit-suppressing Alaiyan. Ironically, it was the two states least obedient to the emperor and the most distrusted Alaiyan, that became the empire's final bastions of loyalty. Even as Xilan was abandoned by the world, they still hadn’t forsaken their emperor, attempting to salvage what they could. Yet, the effectiveness of these efforts was debatable. The wheels of time were unstoppable by mere human hands; the twilight was destined to sink into the sea, the impenetrable darkness eventually descending upon this land... The age of the wasteland was still the age of the wasteland. At least the fire hadn’t spread beyond Boro Province. But for the survivors within the province, a more bloody and chaotic era was just beginning...