Chapter 880 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 880: The Fall of the Celestial Palace "Ha ha ha! Well done! What a damn satisfying hit, ha ha ha!" Inside the airtight front-line command center of Tian Du City, General Dewata's hearty laughter filled the room. He wasn’t the only one expressing such joy. Although the other officers around him didn’t laugh as boisterously, they wore expressions of relief and satisfaction. This textbook counterattack had been a grand display of prowess! Not only had they successfully defended Tian Du from the Southern Legion's assault, but they had also broken through the entire Eastern front line of the enemy, annihilating over forty thousand troops! Although victory in the whole war was still a bit distant, everyone could see the glimmer of dawn ahead. It wasn’t just the officers of the Poro nation who were delighted; officers from the Alliance, including Vanus, also breathed a sigh of relief. The command structure of Poro’s army was essentially established with the help of staff from the Alliance Army Commanding Office. The strategic deployment of this counterattack, without a doubt, marked them as significant contributors to this war, even though most of their work was behind the scenes. However, since they were fighting against their own compatriots, their feelings were somewhat mixed. They didn’t doubt the righteousness of their actions, but to take pleasure in their fellow countrymen's suffering was asking too much. Understanding the survivors’ need to express their joy at being alive, Vanus turned to Dewata and said, "This battle is essentially over. We’ll head back to rest." It wasn't until now that Dewata realized there were still a few Weilan people in the command room. Quickly, he reined in his laughter and courteously replied, "You all should go rest! You've already done enough to help us, and we'll take care of the rest!" He was quite polite to the officers from the Alliance, though he got a bit carried away earlier, forgetting that there were some foreigners present. Vanus nodded without saying much more. After a few polite exchanges, he left with the officers who had come as volunteers. As their group departed, the command center's atmosphere was once again filled with a sense of joy. Shortly after Vanus walked away, a freshly printed edition of the "Survivors’ Daily" was delivered. It was the "Survivors’ Daily" of Tian Du City. On the cover was a blood-soaked man. In his right hand, he held a rifle with a bayonet, while his left hand grasped a drooping head. This man was none other than the commander of Poro’s 700,000-troop regiment, Pikrin Vovanch! The radiant smile on his face sharply contrasted with his slumped nose. Looking at this headline on the newspaper, the burly man laughed heartily again. "Ha ha ha! Pikrin’s got guts! I used to hear him talking about trivial matters all the time and thought of him as a coward. I must have misunderstood him!" It wasn't just Pikrin who showed courage; the entire 700,000-troop regiment shone brightly. Ten battalions of a thousand men each broke apart on the battlefield and coordinated seamlessly, managing to utterly destroy two ten-thousand-troop divisions! They captured more than three thousand prisoners! This wasn’t just Pikrin’s glory but a testament to their entire army group. The advisor beside him chuckled and said, "Well, you did underestimate him. Wolves with cubs are much fiercer than those without." "Hm... Makes sense." Dewata's eyes lit up as he rubbed his chin, lost in thought. Once the war was over, he was keen to address the issue of relationships for the old bachelors in his unit. Not only would this earn him some goodwill, but it would also give him something to leverage. Maybe he should get some female troops who can dance? While he was mulling over his thoughts, a messenger dashed inside, reporting quickly. "General! Headquarters has sent a message that the Celestial Palace will fall within 24 hours. Commander Absek requests you dispatch a logistics unit to assist in relocating the nearby residents!" Everyone in the front-line command room froze at the news, especially Dewata. "The Celestial Palace… falling?" He looked dumbfounded at the messenger standing by the door, utterly befuddled, and asked, "What’s going on? What happened?" The messenger hesitated. "General! Commander Absek didn’t explain..." A long silence ensued in the command room. The adjutant standing beside Dewata opened his mouth and broke the silence with a baffled expression. "The Celestial Palace has been floating there for two centuries; how could it just fall?" The officer across the command table nodded skeptically. "Could it be a mistake..." "Absek wouldn’t joke about such matters, and it wouldn't benefit him," the advisor mused, furrowing his brow, his eyes flickering as he continued softly, "However, if the Celestial Palace does indeed fall... it might be exploitable." Having said this much, he stopped and didn’t continue speaking. After all, his role was merely that of an advisor; he could only offer suggestions. The real decision-maker was just one person here. Dewata narrowed his eyes, a cryptic expression on his face. In the end, though, he said nothing specific, merely lifting his broad hand in a wave. "Wap, personally lead the logistics team over there. Whatever the situation, we must save people first." The adjutant beside him straightened and saluted crisply. "Yes!" ... Following General Dewata's command, a convoy of trucks, ox-carts, and an assortment of vehicles rushed to the vicinity of the Celestial Palace. Soldiers accompanying the convoy disembarked one after another, knocking on each door. "Open up!" Hearing the loud knocking, an elderly man who hadn’t slept the entire night hurriedly got out of bed and rushed to the door to unbolt it. Seeing the soldier standing at the door, he looked bewildered, not knowing what had happened, and asked with a trembling voice. "Are the Weilans attacking again?" The soldier spoke quickly, "The Celestial Palace is going to fall. Hurry and pack your belongings, and once you're done, leave with us!" "What?!" The old man’s face changed instantly, his eyes widening, his voice stuttering, "The, the sky is falling?!" "The Celestial Palace!" Not wanting to waste time arguing, the soldier gave a perfunctory reply and hastily moved on to the next house. The old man stood in a daze at the doorstep, his mind buzzing, remaining frozen for quite some time. It wasn’t the sky falling, but the Celestial Palace... Finally comprehending, he then wore an expression that was both helpless and amused. Isn't it essentially the same?! He wasn’t alone in reacting this way. Upon hearing the Celestial Palace was about to fall, many faces turned ashen, as if it were the sky itself, filling them with more despair than when the Heavenly King first entered the city. After boarding the vehicles with their luggage, several elderly men sighed and lamented together. "How could the Celestial Palace just fall like that..." "Even the Heavenly King, with all his raucous antics, didn’t topple the Celestial Palace... but Absek, not long on the emperor's throne, manages to let such a grand palace fall." "What a squander!" "Actually, it’s not entirely his fault. It’s just his fate doesn’t align with the throne. This is a warning from the heavens. Alas... let's hope he takes heed." Besides superstitious elders, some young folks, yawning and complaining, shared their discontent. "I don’t even live in the Celestial Palace... What’s this got to do with me?" "Exactly..." The soldier driving ignored them, considering they were Dewata’s men, and the complaints were directed at Absek, not their own commander. Frankly, they too found the situation perplexing. If the Celestial Palace is falling, why not just move its contents? Why involve people living outside? The soldiers couldn’t be blamed for their thoughts. Though the Celestial Palace floated nearby, few had actually gone up to see it. Most only knew of its existence, without specific understanding of what it truly was. With the entire Celestial Palace boasting a "construction area" of around 100,000 square meters and countless tons of contents, its full collapse from such a height could cause a minor earthquake at Tian Du’s center. Moving residents outside the Celestial Palace wasn’t the only task. They also had to relocate certain artifacts and treasures stored there, along with the Kabaha councilor and his family, who were sequestered deep within the Celestial Palace. Fortunately, it was now daylight. Even those who had stayed up all night were mostly awake, and the relocation process proceeded smoothly without causing much disturbance. After handling immediate matters, Absek personally rushed to the scene and happened upon a researcher named Yang Kai just disembarking from the research vessel. Quickening his pace towards him, without even a greeting, he anxiously inquired, "What on earth happened?! Didn't you say it could last another ten to twenty years? How has it turned into just twenty-four hours?!" Faced with Absek's interrogation, Yang Kai looked embarrassed. He indeed had made such claims, but no one foresaw how plans wouldn't keep pace with change. "Well... theoretically, yes. Based on our analysis of the helium-3 content in the energy storage tanks, it should indeed last another ten or twenty years." "Then why—" "However, we later discovered that the pressurization pipe of the storage tank had broken, causing the density of helium-3 to fall below the reactor fuel pump's absorption threshold." Absek, at a loss with all the technical jargon, took a moment to realize that the problem was with the fuel. Anxiously, he asked, "Then... can’t we just replenish some more fuel?" "Impossible," Yang Kai shook his head. "You've made so many modifications to this starship; the fact it's still running is a miracle. Repairing it would be no easier than constructing a new one." Hearing this nearly made Absek cough up blood in frustration. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?!" Yang Kai looked at him, exasperated. "If I could foresee the future, of course, I would have told you earlier. Besides, rather than blame me, why not ask the previous chiefs why they crammed so many useless decorations onto a cargo starship?" Absek's face flushed with a liver-like hue but found himself unable to argue. Seeing Absek at a loss for words, Yang Kai felt a bit guilty and sighed, patting him on the shoulder. "...Don't take it too hard. It’s just an antigravity device. When conditions allow, you can always construct another one." Absek sighed, casting a wistful glance back at the palace. "…The problem isn’t with the antigravity device, but the fact that it was known as the Celestial Palace." Yang Kai merely let out a nonchalant snort. "And so?" Watching this indifferent researcher, Absek shook his head. "…You wouldn't understand." Yang Kai shrugged. Indeed, he didn't understand. Nor was he particularly interested in understanding... ... In fact, even Yang Kai's estimate had been overly optimistic. The floating palace didn’t hold up for the full twenty-four hours; come dusk, it was already teetering and began to collapse. The first to fall were the more than ten-meter-high marble steps, which, under that immense weight, crumbled like blocks of tofu. The entire Celestial Palace crashed down like a massive rubber stamp in the center of Tian Du City, raising a whirlwind of dust and rubble, causing the whole square to sink by a person's height. Buildings around the palace toppled in the ground-shaking event, and whirling debris was swept two streets away, leaving much of the city coated in dust. The billowing dust spread outward, hit the city walls, then shot up, forming a towering column of smoke linking sky and earth. The sight was genuinely spectacular. Some players even rushed back from the frontline just to witness the grandeur of the Celestial Palace's demise. In comparison to this earth-shattering event, the collapse of the Giant Stone Citadel's inner city seemed trivial. "Wow... This sight feels even more thrilling than last night." Looking at the column of smoke connecting the sky and earth, Irina, seated atop a Chimera armored vehicle, couldn’t help but marvel. Elf King Fugui nodded in agreement. "…This expansion pack was worth it." Just the CGI felt worth the admission. Of course, they hadn’t actually bought tickets when they boarded... While they watched, several goblin troop helicopters emerged from the smoke, banking toward the northern suburbs' airport. Irina was sure without looking that Mosquito Brothers were on board. Sitting in the armored vehicle, he could almost hear their boisterous laughter. But watching the spectacle is one thing; hopefully, they wouldn't do anything offensive to the locals... ... The residents of Tian Du spent a day feeling like they were on a roller coaster. After a restless night filled with anxiety, they finally welcomed the dawn of victory, only for fate to play a cruel trick, shattering the sanctuary in their hearts. Although the symbolic significance of the floating palace wasn't as profound as the Thousand Pillar City, it still held a place as a mental totem for the survivors of the Poro Nation. Among most survivors of the Poro Province, there was an unspoken consensus: Whoever sat in that throne in the Celestial Palace was the emperor of the Poro Province! If the thousand pillars of the Thousand Pillar City housed the souls of Poro Province survivors, then the palace floating above all embodied their collective spirit. It was no exaggeration to say that it had even become a symbol of a regime's legitimacy. Were it any other time, Absek might not have cared much about this incident, as his leadership wasn't based on legitimacy anyway, but the power of his weapons. Yet, this ominous sign appeared just as they gained victory in defending Tian Du. This inevitably cast a shadow over their hard-won triumph... However, not everyone lamented the fall. While some shed tears over the ruins, others clapped in delight at the collapse of the decayed structure. Like Councilor Kabaha, who had just emerged from the Celestial Palace. Ignoring the interior staff’s attempts to stop him, he stubbornly stayed at the edge of the barricade line, watching until the end, and then began to applaud with satisfaction. "Ha ha ha! It's great that it collapsed! This mountain that sat over the heads of our Poro people has finally fallen!" The survivors of Tian Du spent two centuries building this palace, yet its only purpose was to flaunt the royal family's grandeur. Those towering ten-meter marble steps, like an unyielding line, divided those beneath from the royal authority above. The palace in the sky never should have existed. Those weeping for it never truly owned it even for a second. So what was lost? It should have been a liberating event. With that undisputed authority toppled, only then could a flourishing golden age dawn! Perhaps it was overly idealistic, but Kabaha felt Absek didn't need to be so pessimistic. Their legitimacy needn't be derived from that old authority; it could come from the genuine support of Poro Province's survivors. Unless he still aspired to be the emperor of the Poro Nation. Though Kabaha doubted such an ambition would arise. The survivors of the Poro Nation had risen! No one could make them bow again. Seeing the radiant Kabaha, the interior staff were taken aback. Everyone else was wiping tears, while this old gentleman was applauding, an oddity akin to playing a bugle at a funeral. Even the right thing, if done inappropriately, could seem superfluous. Under hints from his superior, one member of the staff reluctantly stepped forward, whispering to the elder. "Mr. Kabaha, please come with us to a safe place... This war isn’t over. The Weilan aircraft could strike anytime." Afraid the elder would refuse, he quickly added. "The teachers and students of Tian Du still need you." Initially intending to give Absek's "henchmen" a hard time, Kabaha was moved by the last remark, silently following them. Not just the teachers and students of Tian Du needed him, but other provinces of the Poro Nation as well. His vision for the future wasn’t merely a Tian Du University but an entire grassroots educational system. In the future, the children of the Poro Province will not only have bright classrooms and spacious desks but also a brand-new world where they can freely express themselves with pen and paper. Whether their pursuit is academia, personal fulfillment, or merely the acquisition of power and wealth, they will have the choice to shape their own destinies, rather than being cornered like mice. Just like the children of Dawn City. This was not only his wish but also the wish of the mysterious Mr. Mouse. Though his remaining time might be limited, he would dedicate the rest of his life to this effort... ... Meanwhile, as Tian Du City roiled with the chaos over the collapse of the Celestial Palace, the routed 300,000-strong legion of the Southern Army, after a relentless 24-hour retreat, narrowly escaped the encirclement by the united forces and withdrew to the west of Akal County. Just over a month ago, they had dealt a heavy blow to the Alliance's Death Corps and three 10,000-man regiments of the Poro Nation here. Back then, the relentless bombardment almost leveled entire mountains, and the enemy’s blood stained the flowing river crimson. But now, the situation was different. Of those who had once advanced eastward with fervor, only slightly over three thousand managed to make it back. The shattered troops were still fleeing chaotically, and most of those who had returned were wounded. Sitting in the command vehicle, Ryan wore a grim expression, his eyes blankly staring out the window, as though waiting for something. At that moment, the adjutant opened the vehicle's door from outside and hurriedly hopped in. His boots were caked with mud, and his clothes were soaked, but he had no time to mind these details. Breathlessly, he only managed to swallow his saliva before he spoke urgently. "There’s news from the 307th Battalion. They’re resting in a woodland... Damn, they're so skittish they almost fired on us." Seeing Ryan remain silent, the adjutant took a deep breath before imploring sincerely. "…General, the soldiers are exhausted. If we keep going, those who are left will fall behind. Let’s rest a bit before continuing." Ryan pondered for a solid half-minute before merely replying, "Alright." Yet, upon hearing that response, the adjutant breathed a sigh of relief, gave thanks, and quickly exited the command vehicle. Two auxiliary ten-thousand-troop units were bringing thirty thousand Glory Army soldiers toward their location, alongside reinforcements flown in from Evernight Port's air base. Having retreated to a safe distance, there was no longer any need to rush as before. The greatest fear now was not the enemy's advance but their own forces falling into disarray first. With the door closed, the command vehicle sank back into a quiet ambiance. The officers inside held their breaths cautiously, even their breathing stilled to almost nothing. “I’m going out for a smoke.” Unable to stand the stifling atmosphere inside the command vehicle, Ryan stood up, pushed open the door, and stepped out. With the general stepping out, everyone finally relaxed, letting their tense nerves loosen. Outside, Ryan lit a cigarette and strolled pensively. Though he hadn’t slept a wink last night, he didn’t feel the slightest bit drowsy or capable of sleep, for whenever he closed his eyes, visions of roaring flames would spring to mind, followed by faces both unfamiliar and familiar. He refused to blame the defeat on his own missteps, as he hadn’t lost to any visible opponent. Instead, it was a loss due to a lack of intelligence—or a loss to an unseen hand. If he'd known those swamp creatures had a way to make airships fall directly from the sky, he certainly wouldn’t have utilized the suppression attack strategy, sending steel avalanches from air and land in unison. But that was all hindsight. Even if this wasn’t technically a mistake, the glaring reality of his defeat couldn't be altered. Looking at the soldiers slumped against trees with heads hung low, an inexplicable fire surged from his heart. Their expressions seemed to suggest defeat, claiming he had already lost. But that was something he could never agree to, something he would never concede under any circumstances. He could not lose. It was not an option! He had to win! Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he flicked the butt harshly onto the ground, stamping it out underfoot before turning to shout at the dispirited soldiers and officers. “Raise your heads!” The frenzied roar forced all those lowered heads to rise. Their faces were etched with exhaustion and the despondency Ryan most despised. The Weilan people shouldn't be this way! They should march forward bravely, even if hell awaited them beyond! “...Look at yourselves. You’re like a bunch of defeated roosters, and I am ashamed of you!” “Think of your parents, your friends, and the promises you made to them at farewell—does failure and lamentation suffice? Absolutely not!” Clenching his fist, he gazed at the soldiers rising to their feet, veins bulging on his forehead. “Remember why you came here! Recall your glory, your medals, and your honor!” “Your children will live on sunlit lands! They will erect statues to honor your bravery! Do you intend to face them in this way? Raise your heads and show me! The Weilan people have no cowards!” The deafening roar reverberated through the forest's edge, and even those who closed their eyes to avoid listening reluctantly stood. Watching the fervent commander, a youth around seventeen or eighteen muttered with his head lowered. “But we...” “We haven’t lost!” Before the youth could finish, Ryan seized his collar, gazing sharply into his eyes. That piercing gaze cut through irises like a knife, penetrating deep into his spirit. Ryan held his gaze until fear turned to resolve in the youth’s eyes amidst rapid breaths, then satisfied, he released his grip, casting him aside. Surveying the rekindled vigor in his comrades, Ryan raised his clenched fist to his jaw, as though gripping the rope around his throat. “We haven’t lost!” “Ultimate victory will be ours!” One battle proved nothing; shattered formations could be replenished, and those annihilated, rebuilt. Surviving decurions would rise to centurions, and fresh recruits would continually reinforce from the rear. With abundant manpower on both native soil and colonies, even excluding the indigenous and cloned troops, the Weilan had millions or even tens of millions of warriors! Forty thousand comrades... He would reclaim this blood debt, one way or another! To be continued.