Chapter 882 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 882: A Protracted Battle Although the city of Tiandu in Boro Country was defended, the collapse of the Heavenly Palace had undeniably troubled Absek greatly. His concerns didn’t solely stem from societal rumors and the exploitation by various factions. A significant part of the problem lay within himself. Like most Boro people, he harbored a deep-seated superstitious nature, even though after rising to the position of Grand Commander, he publicly disavowed it, zealously adopting the Alliance's materialism and atheism. Initially, this approach seemed effective. Repeating a mantra often enough could almost make one believe it to be true. During the education reform period, Absek saw himself as a genuine materialist warrior, even mistaking Kabaha, a person oblivious to subtleties, for a comrade, forgetting that the true allies were the reformist officers. However, self-consolation was ultimately superficial and not a cure. Even though he deliberately avoided sitting on the emperor’s throne, constructing a special commander's residence to stress his legality had nothing to do with the heavenly palace, the collapse still forced him to confront his insecurities. It wasn’t entirely his fault either; part of the blame rested with the Academy. In his understanding, no survivor organization knew science better than the Academy. Yet right after they assured him the Heavenly Palace could hover for another decade or two, it fell to the ground. It was hard not to cast doubt upon the Academy and science itself, leading to questioning his own beliefs. Was there truly an invisible entity orchestrating everything? Thus, his paranoia resurfaced. Each night was plagued by nightmares, almost always featuring Janusz’s devilish grin. Though it was Anwar who fired the shot, the specter seemed aware of who truly ended its life. The apparition didn’t seek revenge; it merely tormented him with intermittent, unnerving whispers from outside his window. Sometimes, Absek would be tormented all night, arriving the next day at the commander’s office with bloodshot eyes to go through documents, or he’d eventually crash into a deep sleep until noon. He dared not confide this to anyone, fearing that rumors of a ghost haunting the Grand Commander might be exploited by internal opposition within the Union. The only confidant he had was the envoy from the Alliance. Firstly, the envoy had no interest in interfering with Boro's internal affairs, and secondly, Absek felt they genuinely believed in what they advocated—a true materialist. However, upon hearing his troubles, even the envoy Hawk could only offer a helpless expression. "…If I may be frank, you’re suffering from paranoia." "I know. I've tried thinking that way, but it’s useless. It's as if someone else resides in my head..." Absek sighed, then suddenly feeling anxious, he added, "Do you think it could be some kind of psychic interference?" Looking at Absek's suspicious nature, Hawk shook his head and patiently explained. "The effect of such a device on a person with a complete mental state is minimal... While it's not completely ineffective, the most it can do is convey a message or two; it’s impossible to make you dream of a specific individual." Moreover, the device doesn't operate with pinpoint targeting; generally, it blankets an entire region. If it were truly the influence of a psychic interference device, he wouldn’t be the only one affected. In other words, his struggle was a personal inner demon, one he needed to overcome himself. After pondering for a moment, Hawk tentatively suggested. "Perhaps... you should see a psychologist?" The Alliance had a fair number of psychologists. While the barrier to entry is there, it’s relatively low, and the demand is quite substantial. Many survivors, including wastelanders returning to civilized society and those rescued from raider dungeons by players, have sought therapy. It wasn't something shameful; insurance could even cover it. Upon hearing this, Absek immediately chuckled and shook his head in refusal. "Forget it… If I went for treatment, more rumors would surely spread." Hawk heaved a sigh. "Regrettably, there’s little I can do to help." Watching the regretful Hawk, Absek laughed and joked. "Oh, no worries, talking to you has made me feel much more at ease. I might even sleep soundly tonight." He didn’t actually expect anyone to help him; he merely wanted to confide in an outsider. Noticing Absek's troubled state, Hawk suddenly remembered the priests from the Silver Moon sect who had recently arrived in Tiandu to aid refugees and a thought struck him. “If you're hesitant to see a psychologist, perhaps you could talk to a priest from the Silver Moon sect.” Absek was taken aback. "A priest?" Hawk nodded. "We're atheists, but we've never denied the value of faith as mental solace. If you're interested, you could explore it… It's just a suggestion." Using "smoking is harmful" as an argument to persuade someone to quit is futile. Similarly, trying to convince a superstitious person with "there are no ghosts" is merely wishful thinking of a preacher. Instead of clashing with his inner turmoil, finding a less harmful belief might provide a way to face it. Hawk suddenly felt like a genius. Not only could he handle diplomatic roles, but he also seemed to navigate the realm of psychology. Absek seemed intrigued and, after pondering for a moment, nodded seriously. "…I’ll think it over." The meeting concluded. After seeing off the Alliance envoy, Absek paced back and forth in his office before picking up the phone to summon a priest from Silver Moon Bay to the commander's residence, under the pretext of discussing aid for refugees. The two met in the reception room. After some pleasantries, Absek didn't beat around the bush and asked with a smile. "Does your Silver Moon sect have anything like a pope?" This was what worried him the most. Though he sought something to spiritually lean on, he didn't want anyone lord over him. Unaware of the commander's concerns, the priest merely smiled calmly and replied. "Unlike our brethren who serve the Spirit of the Sand Sea, we do not serve any living person, so we have no pope." The Silver Moon sect originated among Silver Moon Bay merchants seeking to avoid tedious rituals and legitimize sea voyages, thus offering a more lenient doctrine and organizational structure. While the Camelhump Kingdom had a pope, he wasn’t associated with the Silver Moon sect or Silver Moon Bay, but rather with the Sand Sea Spirit and Camel City. "There's not? That's good... quite commendable." Absek nodded in approval, then shifted the topic, asking. "What about your doctrine? Do you compel conversion, brainwash others, or exploit faith to accumulate wealth and persecute dissenters?" He rattled off his concerns, though immediately realizing the bluntness and added in a softer tone with a smile. "Please don’t misunderstand, Reverend. I'm not accusing you of these issues; it’s just precautionary... You see, Boro citizens are simple and kind, and I worry they might be deceived by cults." "Understood," the priest replied warmly, then after a pause, he pulled a book from his robes and handed it to Absek. "While I can address your concerns, I can't alleviate your worries. With so many doubts about us, why not find the answers yourself?" Taking the book, Absek weighed it in his hands. "Can this book provide them?" The priest continued in a gentle voice. "To truly understand someone, you must not only listen to their words but observe their actions. If you genuinely wish to fully understand us, a single book may fall short, but it can be the beginning of our mutual understanding." Raising an eyebrow slightly, Absek chuckled and tucked the book away. "Seems like I should adopt a cat." Amused by the quip, the priest laughed and continued. "Though cats are sacred to us, we don’t compel every believer to keep one. Quite the opposite—rather than keeping and worshipping, our doctrine encourages companionship with these little spirits as friends. That is, providing necessary help only when they seek it." Intrigued, Absek stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Is there more to this?" With a smile, the priest elaborated further. "There’s no particular mystery," the priest explained with a gentle smile. "In our doctrine, cats are considered the pets of the Silver Moon Goddess, her eyes, and her incarnations in the mortal world. We believe that she, who roams all year round, cherishes freedom. So, unless those little spirits choose to stay with us, we don’t usually take them in." Absek was overjoyed upon hearing this. Incarnations in the mortal world! Could they ward off evil spirits?! Excited at the thought of finally having a way to banish the tormenting ghost, he jumped to his feet. "That's wonderful! I love cats too! Can you suggest how many I should keep for the best effect?" The priest was taken aback, unsure why Absek was suddenly so elated, but he gathered his thoughts and continued. "There's no specific number, but if you like cats, I can give you one... a rather friendly one." Absek was eager. "Friendliness isn't important; as long as it wards off evil!" Priest: "...?" ... After Absek's meeting with the Silver Moon sect's priest, the commander's residence suddenly filled with cats. Publicly, Absek claimed they were gifts from the Silver Moon sect. However, rumors suggested that only one was a gift, and most were purchased from Silver Moon Bay merchants. People were puzzled but didn't say much; after all, everyone has their own hobbies and indulgences. Duwata favored women, Shalouke fancied gold and silver, Niggly enjoyed collecting Alliance art, and at least Absek's passion wasn't too extravagant. Cats, after all, eat less than humans, and they didn’t seem to be any rare breed. At least not yet. Besides, after acquiring the cats, the previously listless Absek seemed revitalized, as if experiencing a new lease on life. Even Duwata, who secretly mocked his alleged impotence, was now uncertain. As the saying goes, a leader's preferences influence their followers. Because the Grand Commander enjoyed keeping cats, several officials followed suit, turning cat ownership into a trend among Tiandu’s elite and temporarily removing cats from the local culinary menu. Only Committee Member Kabaha shook his head in disapproval, publicly criticizing Absek for being wasteful. There were many in Boro who couldn’t afford food. As the Grand Commander, he ought to set a good example or at least show some restraint. Upon hearing this, Absek wasn’t angered; he merely laughed and instructed the interior department to deliver an affectionate little cat to Kabaha, insisting it must not die under his care and that he file weekly reports on it, or face punishment. Kabaha was furious, gritting his teeth, but without the means to retaliate, he had to swallow his frustration. A week later. Absek grinned at the report passed to him by Wadia, the Interior Committee Secretary. The report contained just two words: "It lives." It was evident that Kabaha was still upset with him. But Absek wasn't bothered and simply chuckled while praising Wadia. "Cats are a wonderful thing… since keeping them, my temper has improved considerably." Wadia forced a smile and replied. "The Grand Commander is right." Absek smiled and continued. "I've been considering sending some to the soldiers on the front lines." Wadia was stunned and hesitantly noted. "This... might not be appropriate." Absek laughed. "There’s nothing inappropriate about it. Our soldiers are human, not machines. Keeping them alive isn't enough; we must also consider their mental well-being." Wadia expressed concern. "But... I'm worried it might affect their combat efficiency." Suddenly, Absek's expression turned serious as he addressed his interior committee head. "Mr. Wadia, have you ever crouched in a trench?" Wadia quickly shook his head, answering honestly. "No…" "I have," Absek said, his gaze drifting to the window. "That place is hell—a slight noise strains every nerve. Spend two months there, and I guarantee even your own mother wouldn’t recognize you." Sending cats to the front wasn’t just an impulse of Absek’s. He consulted with Alliance personnel and learned of such precedents elsewhere. Soldiers entrenched in trenches live under constant tension, and without mental solace, prolonged exposure can lead to psychological issues. In fact, Alliance officers alerted them early on, suggesting they at least assign a "counselor" to each hundred-man unit, ideally down to squads of ten, if possible. While implementing that wasn’t immediate—since counselor training required time and the changes encompassed an entire system reform—the cats provided a good interim strategy. Besides, having cats to catch mice had its advantages. The heaps of corpses attracted severe rodent problems, and his first two pairs of leather boots had been gnawed by rats, leaving him wading in water when it rained. If only Arahayan had treated them like human beings back then, they wouldn't have revolted. Treating it as currying favor with the troops, this expense was worthwhile. "…Cats breed quickly and aren’t expensive. Follow my instructions," Absek concluded, having made up his mind. Seeing that the Grand Commander was decided, Wadia stopped persuading and reluctantly nodded. "Yes, sir!" ... As the battle of Tiandu concluded, the conflict between the Xilan pseudo-empire and Boro province’s countries entered a new phase. Both combatants and the puppeteers behind the scenes had abandoned any hope for a swift victory and braced themselves for a long-term conflict. First, Emperor Akbar issued a call to arms and an edict, listing twelve grievances against the Boro rebellion's treason, while accusing Absek of inciting divine wrath and promising to mobilize a million troops from Lion and Dog to slaughter their foes. In turn, the Boro didn’t back down, firstly listing thirteen charges against the pseudo-emperor, then annulling the old empire's treaty concerning West Sail Harbor, and mobilizing 600,000 reservists, vowing to confront the legion to the end. The reason for mobilizing only 600,000 wasn't due to a lack of manpower but rather Absek's other schemes. Due to Boro's reforms and their victories at the front, industry leaders who were previously hesitant to invest in India have now changed their minds. The arrival of Silver Moon sect priests was a clear signal. While these priests, sponsored by Silver Moon Bay merchants, indeed came to spread the goddess's gospel, they weren’t there solely for charity and preaching. They also assessed local customs and business environments. After all, their donations weren’t given freely. If the patrons wanted a cathedral built, they naturally had to consider whether the local "soil" was fertile enough to let their "seeds" flourish. It was essentially testing the waters. After all, religion itself is a business model, and among the most sophisticated ones. Aside from Silver Moon Bay merchants, Alliance industrialists, having reaped good returns on investments in Mammoth Country, were now eyeing this feng-shuied land spared from mutant invasions with great interest. The region boasted abundant human resources, and the red soil guaranteed a minimum “survival cost” for locals, making it perfect for factory ventures. Especially labor-intensive ones. In addition, merchants from Jin Gallon Port, Fries Port, and Doughnut Port were also looking to invest. Particularly lunar merchants. Although the Camel Chief deeply wounded their sentiments, they still held some affection for their homeland. Moreover, the restoration of the Moon People’s reputation by Janusz earned the Heavenly King Army significant goodwill among the lunar community. Even though Absek and the reformist officers distanced themselves from the Heavenly King Army, it didn’t tarnish the goodwill. Instead, their clean slate made these reformist officers look more appealing in the eyes of the lunar community. Holding such a strong hand, even a fool wouldn’t squander it. Obviously, Absek wasn’t foolish to the point of being outdone by a fool. He immediately saw the opportunity within. So instead of drafting all the youth to the front lines, he preferred guiding them into factories to work. Thus, after consulting with the Alliance, Absek designated White Elephant City in central Boro Province as the Central Industrial Zone. He allocated a full third of the fiscal budget to construct railways and power grids, focusing on the development of heavy industries such as steelmaking, chemical production, and heavy machinery manufacturing. The goal was to complement the industrial zones of Tiger, Leopard, and Rowell states. For Boro's fragile agrarian economy, this was undoubtedly an ambitious undertaking. However, if the plan succeeded, the local survivors could potentially kindle the spark of industrialization, alleviating the embarrassing situation of having to import even bicycles from Jin Gallon Port. This move also benefited the Alliance. In the view of some feudal lords, the economic pie was a static entity: the more people shared it, the less each would receive. Yet there exists another perspective in which the pie is not pre-existing but something that can be expanded. As long as one doesn't recklessly start chopping away, there's always a way to ensure everyone gets a piece, at least without diminishing returns. As this ancient empire slowly began to reawaken, the officers at the Southern Legion's frontline were also thoroughly roused. They started to grasp the true might of the Alliance. Not only because of the high morale of the volunteers, but because that same morale spread like a virus, turning locals into fierce opponents they had to deal with seriously. With airships downed by unknown weapons, General Gurion, under Akbar's name, established a local special agency to investigate the five crashed airships. Meanwhile, Ryan Centurion, commanding the eastern front, completely shifted from his previous aggressive maneuvering tactics to a more steady and methodical approach. The most apparent change was his decision to abandon the northeastern hills of Akale County, retreating from the river bend to the Lion-State and Bull-State border, where they started digging trenches and building bunkers and pillboxes. This conceded the flood plains previously held by the Southern Legion. For them, it signaled the collapse of their blitzkrieg strategy and their boast of defeating the rebels within two months. Conversely, it allowed them to secure their positions, reinforcing the supply lines against frequent raids and disturbances from Boro and Mammoth guerrilla forces. For Boro, at a disadvantage, this development was hardly promising. Firstly, it showed that the Southern Legion was serious now, making opportunistic gains much harder. Secondly, the Legion was consciously trying to assimilate the captured territory, attempting to transform it into their own domain. On the other hand, the Boro army had matured significantly through constant fighting, and several outstanding generals had emerged. For example, Isher, the commander of the 3rd Myriad-Man Unit. And Jokar, leading the 11th. Especially Isher, who was notably honored with the nickname "Jungle Mouse" by the Veylant military, along with a bounty of one million dinars on his head. Cunning as a rodent, he mastered guerrilla and psychological warfare. Veylant officers, having battled him, remarked that with one cannon, he could achieve the effect of two, and a ten-man squad under him could act like a hundred, especially in jungles and hills, rendering opponents defenseless! Another figure recognized by the Veylant was Pikri, commander of the 70th Myriad-Man Unit. But unlike Isher, his fame didn’t stem from outstanding records but from a photo published in the Survivor’s Gazette. Veylant soldiers privately dubbed him “the Butcher.” His nickname was much more dominant than Isher’s and even graced the Southern Legion Victory Report. In admiring strength, Veylant people actually shared similarities with the Boro. Rather than favoring the cunning "Jungle Mouse," the Legion’s rank-and-file soldiers and officers clearly admired the commander charging with a bayonet. Even if the head hanging from his hand belonged to a comrade, it didn’t stop them from admiring his strength. After all, within the “might is right” belief of jungle culture, there lay another metaphor— The weak among them did not deserve to be called kin. They would be outraged by the massacre at West Sail Port, for it was a contempt and humiliation to the concept of "Veylant." However, the specific sufferings of individuals brought nothing but their disdain. It wasn’t a matter of numbers; after all, forty thousand was far greater than three thousand by any measure. Yet on that night, every Veylant soldier who died or surrendered as a loser received nothing but humiliation and mockery… As both sides revealed their true capabilities, the entire war entered a stalemate. While every day brought new incidents on the front lines, for those beyond the front, it was as if nothing happened. Time swiftly moved to August, with the stifling rainy season nearing its end, and in two months, the dry season would arrive. At this time, a fleet from Death's Coast neared the southernmost Evernight Port of the Great Desert. The transformation of the place was so drastic that Yarman almost thought he had arrived at the wrong location. (P.S. Seeking a few IDs.) To be continued.