Chapter 864: Wolf, Snake, and Dog

Chapter 864: Wolf, Snake, and Dog

[...Commander Absac, the Southern Legion stirs restlessly. From their movements, I foresee their next step: a march southward to seize first Wolf Province, then Snake Province!]

[Though Wolf and Snake have nominally submitted to us, local powers are deeply entangled, and many nobles form the bedrock of the West Wind Court. If the Legion takes these lands, not only will we be caught between two fronts, but even Leopard Province and Rowell Province to the east will fall into peril!]

[For the sake of Bara, and for you, Great Commander, I am willing to go personally to Wolf and Snake to resist the Legion.]

[This journey is solely for the greater cause—Great Commander need not detain me!]

In the Commander’s office.

Absac, seated at his desk, read the letter from start to finish, then suddenly cursed and flung it hard onto the table.

“That sly fox!”

The letter was from Shahrukh.

The Horse King who had played the “double act” with him in the palace hall that day.

Since Bara was founded by the four kings together, he had appointed the Horse King, along with the Tiger King and Leopard King, as “Grand Commissioners,” and later, other kings who wisely switched sides were made commissioners as well.

But not one of those three Grand Commissioners was worth a damn—two had fled before the fighting even began, and the third had sent his family to Golden Gallon Port and moved himself to the edge of the airport.

Still not satisfied, Absac added another grumbling remark.

“…A fine ‘solely for the greater cause’! Hah, I see it as building a road in plain sight while sneaking across the bridge.”

The Legion would march south now? Only if pigs could fly!

Anyone with half a brain could see their next target was Ox Province! And specifically, Ox Province’s Celestial Capital!

The Southern Legion wasn’t a monolith either; there was likely competition among the chiliarchs.

According to front-line reports, the Northern Line’s Chiliarch Oterai had already launched an attack from Surak County into Dog Province, racing to outpace his own comrades.

How was it that on his side, he was surrounded by nothing but these sneaky, slippery characters?

Absac shook his head, helpless inside, but could only sigh to himself, playing the tough guy to the end.

Come to think of it, he had no right to judge others—wasn’t he himself an opportunist?

The only “honest man” in the entire Heavenly King’s Army was probably the long-dead Yanush.

The guards standing nearby exchanged bewildered glances, not knowing why the Commander was so angry, yet afraid to ask.

Just then, another subordinate entered, saluted, and reported.

“…Sir, the Education Commissioner wants to schedule a meeting with you to discuss public education matters.”

Not in the mood for such trivialities, Absac waved his hand impatiently.

“Not going, no time! I’ve already approved his budget—let him handle it himself. Doesn’t he see what time it is? The Legion’s about to reach the Celestial Capital, and I’m supposed to bother with his petty crap?”

The subordinate hesitated, head bowed.

“But… what he wants to discuss with you is precisely the budget issue.”

Hearing the word “budget,” Absac grew even more irritated.

“Tell him that’s it. I’m not cutting his budget—he should be grateful. Take it or leave it.”

These intellectuals had no sense of the situation at all.

His own soldiers couldn’t even scrape together underwear, and here they were squabbling over desks and textbooks.

Did that fellow ever think how his soldiers would feel if he actually approved their budget?

No desks?

No textbooks?

Then sit on the ground and read! Write on the ground!

Be glad you’re not being thrown into the trenches.

Of course, Absac only said this to himself; he’d never actually tell the Education Commissioner.

Those intellectuals had vicious tongues—if it came to a verbal fight, he might not win.

The subordinate nodded respectfully, turned, and hurried away.

“Yes…”

Not long after, footsteps sounded outside the door.

Absac, already fuming, was about to lose his temper when he saw the two Alliance representatives enter. Instantly, his face changed like a magic trick, becoming genial and warm.

“What wind blows you two here?”

Farseeing Hawk dispensed with pleasantries and got straight to the point.

“It’s about reinforcements… Our Death Corps has arrived at Golden Gallon Port, and with subsequent reinforcements, we’ve got over ten thousand men. Since their area of operations is mainly around Ox Province, carrying out defensive counterattacks, they hope you can send a few officers to assist them.”

Absac was overjoyed and immediately replied.

“That’s easy! I’ll arrange a chiliarch to help you right away!”

Farseeing Hawk continued.

“No need for such a high-ranking officer. It’s best to have front-line or second-line officers familiar with the local terrain and front-line conditions. We’ll teach you some guerrilla warfare tactics… So you should pick as many as possible—around a hundred or so.”

Given Bara’s current military strength, holding the line through positional warfare was nearly impossible; they had to resort to guerrilla tactics.

After some discussion on the forum, the battalion commanders decided to let Brother Edge teach them. Having a teacher was better than letting them learn through trial and death.

Absac immediately agreed.

“No problem! We have plenty of officers pulled back from the front lines! I’ll hand them over to you!”

Though he agreed readily, he had his own calculations.

Guerrilla warfare would surely incur heavy casualties, so he couldn’t use his own trusted men.

Most of the officers withdrawn from the front were Yudono’s old subordinates.

Since they had lost Lion City, let them atone for their sins.

Farseeing Hawk didn’t care where the officers came from, nor did he mind Absac’s hidden agenda.

To the Alliance, it didn’t matter—as long as they had front-line experience.

Compared to Yanush, who “said one thing and did another” and “treated people like fools,” this guy’s full cooperation was quite satisfying.

Not only did the old hands on the forum want to help him, but even Farseeing Hawk himself wanted to lend a hand.

If Bara could be managed well, the 4 million square kilometers of wasteland would no longer be their concern.

Though impoverished, lacking technology and culture, they still had the potential to become part of the force driving the Wasteland Era into a new age.

Just like the survivors of the South Sea Alliance.

“…Speaking of which, what made you so angry just now?”

“Ah! It’s all because of poverty—you must excuse me.”

Absac sighed deeply, putting on a woebegone face as he continued to lament his poverty.

“The money Wutuo left is only so much. I had to borrow on credit just to buy clothes for the soldiers, and then there’s weapons and ammunition, logistics vehicles. After that, the Agriculture Commissioner hounded me for money for tractors and fertilizer, and the Industry Commissioner wanted steel furnaces and coal stoves. Could I refuse? But no sooner had I paid out than the Education Commissioner came to me saying textbooks were lacking… What could I do? I can print money, but you folks won’t accept it, so I had to send him packing.”

Upon hearing this fellow cry poverty again, Old Eagle immediately shut his mouth and said nothing.

The little money in his pocket was far from enough to fill that gap.

The Alliance was even less possible.

It was not even on the same scale; only Utopia might be able to help them.

Old Stick coughed and interjected.

“…Business is business. It’s not that we don’t accept your paper money, but the Golden Gallon Port Bank doesn’t. It’s their legal right, and we can’t force them. As for you, why not just take fewer concubines?”

Absaik gave a bitter smile upon hearing this and shook his head as he spoke.

“Hah, how much can a few concubines cost? And that money doesn’t come from the state treasury—whether we save it or not, it won’t go into the treasury. That’s what I call business is business. Besides, even if I take fewer, can I make my subordinates follow suit?”

He was not as eager for women as Yanush, to the point that many in the army even whispered that he was impotent, having damaged that part in battle.

When he first heard that rumor, he was so furious his nose nearly twisted, and he wished he could have the internal affairs arrest the culprit.

Of course, that was just a thought; he wouldn’t actually kill a man’s entire family just for insulting him.

After all, there were too many who cursed him, even many in the army. If he killed them all, he, as the Grand Commander, would become a general with no troops.

But speaking of it, that remark from the Alliance brother had opened up a new line of thought for him.

Absaik pondered to himself: from now on, anyone who takes a second wife should have to pay a tax.

For three or four wives, the tax would double progressively—that could rake in a huge sum!

After all, it wasn’t the common soldiers who could afford three or four wives, but the old nobles who held land.

When the day came that they could no longer afford three or four, he would issue a decree to abolish this corrupt custom, and by then the resistance to reform would likely be much smaller.

“Say a little less.”

Far-Sighted Eagle shot a glare at Brother Stick, who gave a sheepish grin and shut his mouth.

Seeing the latter fall silent, Old Eagle turned back to Absaik and spoke in a gentler tone.

“You have to eat your meal bite by bite; don’t be too anxious. Once you drive away the Southern Legion, you’ll have plenty of time to develop. Just like Rasi—he seized the opportunity after the civil war in the southern seas and the Torch War, and Mammoth’s economy took off. We’re building a space elevator recently; you’ll have your chance too.”

Perhaps after hanging around A-Guang for so long, he had unconsciously learned to paint big pictures.

But Absaik ate it up, his face beaming with delight as he nodded like a pestle pounding garlic.

“I’ve learned my lesson! I’ll surely remember your words, sir!”

Seeing how obedient the fellow was, Old Eagle smiled and waved his hand.

“You flatter me, you flatter me.”

After all, he wasn’t a manager, and praise brought him no benefit, so he couldn’t be bothered to be modest.

After finishing the serious talk, Old Eagle, fearing the fellow might ask for money, hurriedly pulled Old Stick and left.

In fact, his worry was entirely unnecessary. Having known him for so long, Absaik was well aware that the fellow had no money to give, so he never even brought it up.

He was just habitually crying poverty, to show that he was different from that rich fool Wutuo.