Chapter 881 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 881: Demons Dancing Wildly Shezhou, Command Headquarters. Upon hearing the incredible news from Tiandu, Shaluk was so astonished that his mouth hung agape, his face a portrait of disbelief. After a moment, he paced to the window, pulled out a tissue to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and muttered under his breath. "Son of a dog... Abusiek actually managed to hold it." Originally, he had presumed that Tiandu City was indefensible. The tide of battle would only turn after the Southern Legion's airships scattered, which was why he had rushed south to prepare for war. Unexpectedly, the Southern Legion was weak despite appearances. Five airships were wiped out by the Alliance in one fell swoop, forcing nearly a hundred thousand troops to retreat a hundred kilometers back to the bend of the great river. After pondering for a long while, he tossed the tissue into the trash can and gritted his teeth, making a decision. "Son of a dog... We have to move north!" From Shezhou north to Langzhou, then advancing from the northwest corner of Langzhou into Shizhou. This would open up a third front. It would save him from idly watching as the war concluded, leaving him branded as a "king of the sidelines" with a reputation for lackluster combat engagement. An idea suddenly sparked in his mind, and Shaluk immediately grabbed the phone on the desk, issuing an order. "Get Zayed to come to me." Just over a month ago, a man named Zayed had arrived from Mazhou leading the Grey Wolf Army to Shezhou, with the title of Supreme Commander of the Shezhou War Zone. Could a single state bear two supreme commanders? Shaluk had instantly recognized that this was Abusiek's dissatisfaction with his retreat, bringing in a scapegoat to reprimand him. He considered Zayed a scapegoat primarily because he'd never seen him before, obviously not one of Abusiek’s men. Even if something happened to him, it wouldn’t cause Abusiek too much grief. Precisely for this reason, even if he killed him, Abusiek wouldn't turn against him. It was a strategic move, a trial balloon. Interestingly, Abusiek seemed notoriously poor at picking people. Previously, Anwo had been conducting clandestine maneuvers behind his back, and this scapegoat was even more unwilling to be just a sacrificial pawn. Upon arriving at Shezhou, he filled Shaluk’s ears with praises and promptly relinquished the title of supreme commander. This series of maneuvers amused Shaluk, especially when Zayed not only criticized Abusiek's incompetence but also pledged to support Shaluk in becoming the great commander. Although Shaluk didn’t necessarily believe he was capable of that, he did appreciate his skill in persuading the Grey Wolf Army to switch allegiance. The man might lack talent for command, but he could serve as a decent minister. Furthermore, just to infuriate Abusiek, Shaluk immediately bestowed upon Zayed the title of advisor—a move to see if sending someone to put pressure on him only resulted in them joining his own side. Zayed, pleased with the role, willingly accepted the title of advisor. Later, Shaluk kept him close for observation, while relocating Zayed's subordinates, Gopal and the other Grey Wolves, to northern Shezhou, essentially placing them under a form of house arrest. This matter lay dormant until the unexpected good news from Tiandu reminded him of Zayed, the "Supreme Commander of the Shezhou War Zone." Soon after, there was a light knock on the door, and Zayed entered the room. "General, you called for me?" Seeing Zayed at the door, Shaluk cleared his throat, adopting a stern tone. "The situation at the front is urgent; the entire province of Boruo is resisting the Legions. Remaining idle isn't an option. Previously, the circumstances were unfavorable, but now they are. I plan to form a field army to fight in Shizhou." "Your talents are wasted in an advisory role. You should be showcasing your skills on the battlefield. Take Gopal and the Grey Wolves with you; I’ll assign you fifty thousand more troops. Ensure our banner flies over the gates of Lion City!" Using others’ troops to achieve his own goals made Shaluk feel like a genius. Winning wasn’t the point. As long as these Grey Wolves and the Legions were too embroiled in their fight to back down, no one could accuse him of being slack. Unbeknownst to Shaluk, his little scheme had long since been seen through. Zayed, who was fully aware of Shaluk's intentions, merely smiled lightly. "Patience, General. I understand your fervor to serve your country, but it's not yet time for you to move north." Seeing the lack of awareness in this idiot, Shaluk raised an eyebrow and said with a half-smile. "It’s not impatience, just that the situation at the front is changing too unpredictably. Waiting might make it too late. Surely Mr. Zayed isn’t afraid? In my army, cowardice earns a bullet." Ignoring the underlying threats, Zayed merely chuckled. "At West Sail Port, I faced the Legion alone without fear, how could I fear now, after gaining an advantage?" Shaluk gave a hollow laugh, not moving a muscle despite his growing cold gaze. Faced alone, huh? Were the thousands who died that day not people? And didn’t I hear you even lost your shoes from running? He refrained from pointing this out, though. There’s no point in reasoning with ants when you can squash them with impunity. Sensing the murderous intent from Shaluk, Zayed quickened his words. "Do you know how long the Eastern Legion’s Eastward Expansion faction fought with the Great Rift?" Not understanding why Zayed shifted the topic to the Eastern Legion, Shaluk frowned. "No idea... I know about the Eastern Legion, but what’s this Eastward Expansion faction?" Zayed explained calmly. "The Eastward Expansion faction is a minor political force within the Eastern Legion, one not ranked by power. Their goal is expanding into eastern desert territories outside their control. To put it less delicately, comparing the Eastern Legion to Boruo, the Eastward Expansion faction would be akin to the Jia Ren faction and Grey Wolves." Shaluk paused, then burst out laughing. "That’s quite the comparison." Seeing his softening, Zayed smiled gently and continued. "Without support from the Eastern Legion, the Eastward Expansion faction mustered a million strong to trek thousands of kilometers. It took them over a year of fighting with the Great Rift to see results, and the impact of that war persists." "Comparatively, while the Southern Legion also has internal factions, there’s no divisive disagreement over this war as with the Eastern Legion." "Imagine a dog nurtured by the Legion, barely able to fight the remains of the War Construction Committee to a standstill. Now facing a Legion branch, do you think it’ll end quickly?" Shaluk squinted slightly. "You’re saying... this war has a long way to go?" His biggest fear was a swift end to the war, overshadowing his efforts to make an impact. But if Zayed’s analysis holds true and the war drags on, jumping into these murky waters now might not be ideal. His army should be the decisive force, not mere kindling. "Absolutely," Zayed continued with patience, reading Shaluk's hesitation, "The Alliance won’t be content with a local victory, nor will the Southern Legion concede to losing one." "They’ll continue mobilizing; their mobilization is barely starting. And so will the Alliance, especially among their allies on the East Coast." "This conflict will surpass the borders of Boruo Province, extending west across the vast deserts, even into Southern Legion's colonies and lands. It won’t end with Boruo survivors, but impact the entirety of the wasteland’s survivors." "The Alliance and the corporations have certainly made some agreement—they aim to eliminate all risks decisively. This guarantees a protracted war." "Thus, it's far too soon to divide the spoils; you’d be jumping the gun by moving now." After listening, Shaluk fell into deep thought, eventually sinking into his chair. Seeing his relaxed shoulders, Zayed knew he’d succeeded in persuading him, allowing himself a relieved smile. While warlords may practice deceptions and schemes, their variety is limited, revolving around old tricks—whether to use one’s enemy or watch from afar. Be it Abusiek or Shaluk, from his perspective, they were both rather feeble. While Zayed considered this, Shaluk was conducting his own internal calculations. He questioned himself internally, confident that his intelligence was second to none. However, when it came to a "global perspective," he admittedly fell short compared to those who had seen the outside world. Take the current situation, for example. He wasn't even aware that there was an Eastward Expansion faction within the Eastern Legion, let alone that this faction had fought against the Great Rift for an entire year. Letting Zayed and the Grey Wolf Army venture out seemed unwise; having them close felt more reassuring. "But... won't it look bad for us to remain idle?" he asked. Zayed chuckled. "Who said we must stand at Tiandu and be cannon fodder to make a move? Aren't you the Supreme Commander of the Shezhou War Zone? Isn’t Shezhou a battlefield too?" Shaluk, with a perplexed expression, watched as Zayed continued with a knowing smile, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I’ve rescued the Alliance envoy detained by the Legion." Shaluk was taken aback. Remarkable... A truly talented individual! While Shaluk was astounded by Zayed's tactics, elsewhere, northwestern Shezhou at the Grey Wolf Army's base, two men disguised as farmers carried a stretcher into the camp. The leading man seemed familiar with the soldiers at the camp gate, exchanging a few short words which granted them entry, allowing them to carry the stretcher inside. Having ridden on the "litter" all the way, Old Dog felt somewhat guilty. His injuries had mostly healed halfway through the journey, yet these people insisted on carrying him. When the two men finally set him down, he intended to express his gratitude, only for one of them to speak first. "Brother, sorry for the trouble." "No trouble, no trouble..." Old Dog replied sheepishly, then took a curious glance around before asking, "Excuse me, where are we?" Having spent quite some time with these people, he'd picked up some conversational phrases, making his language less awkward. The man laughed heartily. "This is Shezhou! Our own turf!" Shezhou! The name rang a bell for Old Dog. He remembered passing through this area with Eagle, recognizing it as the southern tip of the Boruo Province. However, he quickly realized something was off. Hold on. These folks promised to bring him to his Alliance comrades; how did they end up taking such a detoured route to the province's southernmost edge? This place was far from the front lines, feeling like they could swing around to the East Coast's Jinkalon Port at this rate. Thinking of this, Old Dog laughed to himself awkwardly. "...Wait, brothers, didn't you say you were taking me to meet my countrymen? Why bring me to Shezhou?" "It’s all the same, no difference, we’re all family," the man continued with a generous chuckle, as if unfazed by the confusion. Then he went on, "By the way, the folks from Surak County said you're an Alliance envoy, is that true?" Facing the man's expectant stare, Old Dog felt a bit shy, clearing his throat as he explained. "Strictly speaking, I'd say I’m a volunteer, just bringing my own provisions to help out." Despite hearing him out, the man acted as if he hadn’t and simply kept smiling. "Brother, don't be so tense; there are no Virant here, we're all family." Old Dog was at a loss. "But I'm really not." Their conversations were like talking at cross purposes, making Old Dog question whether he’d learned the union tongue incorrectly—mixing up "black" for "white," "thick" for "thin," or "yes" for "no." Naturally lacking confidence, especially socially, he instinctively felt the communication issue might lie with him. Finally, as the sun set, the chatty fellow quieted down, and Old Dog managed a sigh of relief. After lying on the stretcher for a while, he grew restless and wandered out in search of a restroom. Rounding a few corners, he happened upon a secluded spot and, coincidentally, overheard a low conversation between the two men. "That guy doesn’t seem like an Alliance envoy..." "Let’s say he is; after all, we've rescued him, he’s still an Alliance citizen. This is a significant achievement, we can't be careless." "True enough... so about tomorrow’s interview?" "We won’t let him speak... just say he’s unwell, and we’ll speak for him." "Smart move!" "Keep it low-key, it’s all for the family... hehe." Although a bit muffled, Old Dog got the gist. Thus, he was utterly shocked. Damn. These NPCs could understand him perfectly; they’d just been feigning ignorance! To possess such cunning—these AIs were indeed impressive... Old Dog sensed he might have boarded a pirate ship of sorts, yet without clairvoyance and with scarce information about the Family Association on the forums, he opted to gather more intel before making a rash decision... ... Meanwhile, while Old Dog observed in secret, news of the Southern Legion's heavy setback on the eastern front spread with wounded soldiers returning to West Sails Port for recovery. However, tangible defeat was distinct from a defeat in spirit. Though Commander Ryan and his men faced crushing defeat on the eastern front, the battle lines didn’t lie, as Conquest City remained under the Virant's control. Even if Conquest City held criticisms of Aventurine City, it remained a Virant matter. The following afternoon, local newspapers in West Sails Port tactfully reported on the "strategic retreat" from the front, focusing on the collapse of the Heavenly Palace and the "Incompetent King" Abusiek’s protests against the Alliance and insults towards the Academy. Despite not interviewing key figures, their narratives were undeterred. Although these newspapers sought to soothe Virant sentiment, they heartlessly neglected their dear "old friends." While not explicit, the newspapers hinted that the Heavenly Palace’s fall was due to the steel airships, a warning from the Southern Legion to the rebelling factions. In some respects, these news accounts indeed served their intended "positive" impact. Upon hearing of the Heavenly Palace’s collapse, nearly all Boruo locals felt a deep sense of loss and despair. Their ancestors had left them with little to be proud of; whether it was the Red Earth or the City of a Thousand Pillars, more often ridiculed than respected. But the Heavenly Palace alone was different. Whenever the palace’s marvel was discussed, even the most impoverished beggar could stand with pride. Kaboha, however, misunderstood this pride among his kin. To him, the Heavenly Palace was a shackle, a prison. Yet, to others, it was their last bastion of respect. After the news of the palace's fall circulated, a pervasive cloud of gloom—or perhaps, existential nihilism—took hold over West Sails Port. People consoled each other, "It’s just a castle, after all. Fallen it may be, it’s not as if the sky has fallen. Life goes on." Yet no one grasped the deeper metaphor in their reassurances. Living seemed to have become an end unto itself. Though this had long been the case, its sense of nihilistic finality never felt so complete... Of course, the Southern Legion's paraded victory on paper didn’t exclusively float despair. Consider Emperor Akbar, who was absolutely livid. "...That damned Abusiek!" Glancing at the "Southern Legion Victory Report," Akbar’s expression shifted from pale to livid before finally slamming the paper onto the table. He trembled with rage, his teeth grinding with a desire to gnash that name to bits. "That damned Abusiek dared... dared to destroy my palace! Once I catch him, I'll skin him alive and feed him to the dogs!" The lion-headed steward at his side, trembling and prostrated on the floor, dared not lift his head. Despite his outward fear, inwardly he was perplexed. The paper clearly attributed the palace’s destruction to the airships, so why curse Abusiek? Suddenly, he recalled a detail: shortly after this "glorious news," Ryan’s 300,000-strong force had relocated to Akala County—a strategic site contested numerous times by the Southern Legion and rebels. If his memory served right, Akala County should be behind the front lines, yet with each victory, territory seemed to shrink? The steward pondered silently. There had to be something more beneath the surface... Just then, footsteps approached, interrupting the steward’s musings. Without a knock, the door was thrust open, and an officer marched in with purposeful strides. Upon seeing Gurion’s arrival, Akbar's face lit up with a mix of surprise and flattery. "General Gurion?! What brings you here?" Gurion's expression was somber, his slightly protruding jawline accentuating his weariness. The Chief of Staff was extremely displeased with his performance, having berated him over the phone. Due to the front-line setbacks, the Southern Legion’s initial plan to "sweep through the Boruo Province in two months" was no longer feasible. Winning the war would now require mobilization from both the colonies and the mainland! This was not good news. Since they had planted their banner at the southernmost edge of the wasteland, such mobilization had not been necessary for a very long time... Seeing Akbar's deferential expression, Gurion slightly relaxed his brow, his nose regaining its proud stature. "There is something I need you to do." Despite Gurion’s commanding tone, Akbar felt no offense; instead, he was overjoyed and quickly nodded. "Please, give your orders, General! I will do my utmost to accomplish whatever is within my ability!" Without any pleasantries, Gurion gestured to his aide to bring a document, handing it over to Akbar. Before Akbar could ask, Gurion spoke first. "I need you to draft an edict, just copy this document word for word." An edict? Akbar hesitated for a moment, unfolding the document to take a look. At first glance, it seemed like a proclamation against traitors, but upon closer inspection, it was much more complex. This was a mobilization edict. The Southern Legion intended to conscript one million soldiers from Lion State and Dog State to support the frontline. "Won't mobilizing so many people be excessive?" With a hint of difficulty on his face, Akbar continued as he watched Gurion's frown deepen. "One million... Even if we leave their provisions to themselves, we don’t have enough guns for them." Hearing Akbar’s concern about the lack of guns, Gurion’s frown lessened. "You don’t need to worry about that. Not only firearms but supplies like food and clothing will also be provided by us." Relieved and delighted, Akbar immediately brushed aside his concerns. "That’s wonderful! Rest assured, General, the Boruo nation never lacks manpower! A million, even two million, three million! We can definitely muster them!" Once the young men are gone, send the old; once the old are gone, send the young. Akbar cared little for their fate. The collapse of the Heavenly Palace had clarified things for him. If he couldn’t be the emperor of this land, what use was there for those insignificant lives? It was better for more of them to die, thus making his throne even more secure. General Gurion smiled, finally dispelling some of the gloominess on his face. Perhaps this was the value of a companion animal. Suddenly, he felt like getting a dog. Gazing at Akbar’s ingratiating smile, Gurion ordered with a cool tone. "Now that you know, hurry and write it. I hope to see that edict on my desk by tomorrow." Unaware of how he was perceived, Akbar was inwardly thrilled about finally being useful. Gurion hadn’t forgotten his old friend. The Legion still needed him! "No need to wait until tomorrow! I’ll ensure it’s delivered to your residence before nightfall!" To Be Continued