Chapter 954: Redemption!

Chapter 954: Redemption!

The venomous snake lurking in its cave had finally endured the winter, much like the blood-colored bud dormant in Lowell’s chest.

Perhaps the Moon King never intended to harm his own descendants, and even contemplated the day when history would settle accounts with him… much like that nameless soldier who, in the bitter snow, suddenly awoke and turned his gun on Lowell.

Yet when they faced that weighty epic, every single one of them softened without exception.

Whether emperors, generals, ministers, or nameless soldiers and obscure experts, who wouldn’t want to leave a tale of truth, goodness, and beauty at the story’s end?

And to win a good name for themselves as well.

But once the heart softens—

Everything is too late.

“Bang!”

The sudden gunshot tinged Mammoth City’s festive atmosphere with a touch of sorrow and slaughter.

The young men, whose hot blood had not yet cooled, charged forward once again without hesitation, just as their teachers had taught them in class—standing tall and unyielding, whether facing Wuto or Rasi.

The people surrounded the city hall, demanding an explanation.

Their demands were in fact beyond reproach; they didn’t even go so far as to call for Rasi to be put on trial.

Yet even such mild demands were fatal to the Mammoth Kingdom.

There was no help for it—responsibility was too concentrated.

Those who shared glory and ruin together were countless, like grasshoppers tied on a single string.

This doomed the Mammoth Kingdom to yield not a single step before this surging tide; even the smallest concession would be a cliff.

If the same thing happened in the South Sea Alliance, at worst they’d just dismiss Li Minghui.

But this was the Mammoth Kingdom.

Once Rasi fell, the first to be purged would be the Stormtroopers, and then their cronies…

It wouldn’t be a matter of a few men crowning themselves kings or emperors, but of scattering sand that would have to be crushed into even finer grains, and rolling heads that would build another insurmountable dam on the Tasang River!

Even without Rasi’s order, the troops stationed in the city had already struck first.

No matter what, they could not let the crowd storm the city hall, and they would do so at any cost.

Those children were too young, still unskilled in voicing their demands tactfully, and the Mammoth Kingdom authorities had not yet had enough time to learn how to handle public opinion incidents.

The soldiers fired warning shots into the air, but not a single person backed down. Soon, someone fell, and then, no matter how many reasons they had, they could no longer explain themselves.

Seeing the children slumped on the ground, the fathers who had returned from working overseas grew furious, and in the end, this conflict brewed into an even greater storm, nearly reaching the Silver Moon Goddess Church in the parish.

In the whole affair, there was no right or wrong.

Only cost.

And when everyone suddenly realized it, even those who didn’t eat dirt saw that their heels were already buried in that inch of red soil—that history as glaring as blood.

Just as countless Kents had hoped, the miracle of Boulder City did not happen in Mammoth City.

Looking at the telegram and newspaper that arrived simultaneously from the rear, Rasi, who was fighting the remnants of the Southern Legion on the front lines, was no longer just red-faced with anger—he was trembling all over.

“Nonsense! I… damn it! Fuck!”

He suddenly realized that he couldn’t make himself understood even when he was in the right.

It was true that he had blown up the dam, but he hadn’t expected it to wash away the entire downstream village, and later he had tried his best to make amends to those people.

If he had admitted it back then, it might have been fine—at that time, everyone was treating lives like grass, and even the “Empire’s War God” Arayang was on a killing spree. What could a bunch of half-awake people do?

They might even have thought him candid, a true villain.

And later, if he had “turned over a new leaf” and built a new dam—as he had already done—everyone would have praised him as a bold and responsible man.

But now it was too late to say anything.

His enemies had exposed the matter for him, and they had done so with embellishments, using the most shameless method—deducing causes from results, even turning later ideas like “overseas labor” into part of a grand scheme behind the flood.

At this moment, he was like an angry lion, with sharp teeth and claws, but not knowing whom to bite.

This was inevitable.

What he excelled at was what Abusek did not, and what Abusek excelled at was naturally beyond him.

Seeing the enraged marshal and commander, the staff officer in the tent advised.

“The war isn’t over yet; we can’t let these people mess around. For now, impose martial law! And temporarily halt the return of overseas laborers.”

After a pause, he added.

“Also, since they’ve published in the newspaper, we’ll publish a clarification too!”

It was a stopgap measure.

But since they’d already been shot, they had to bandage the wound first before doing anything else.

Unfortunately, this staff officer was still too young. Once they did that, they’d fall into a spiral of rumor-mongering and refutation… not to mention that their own hands were far from clean.

Even if blowing up the dam was a secret of the Stormtroopers, known only to Shawa and a few top brass, seeing Rasi’s reaction, the officers all had a pretty good idea.

Even if the truth in the newspaper was watered down, among ten lies, one true one was bound to slip through.

In fact, the most efficient method was to play it cool—first shut the mouths of those petty troublemakers, then release an even more sensational story to divert attention, and once everyone had forgotten the original conflict, gradually shape the correct memory.

For instance, say that Rasi’s intention was to protect the dam from stray shells, but a soldier executed the wrong order. Or that the soldier didn’t execute the wrong order at all, because no one gave the order—the dam was old and decrepit, and was shattered by Bamut’s 100mm cannons… After all, the engineering quality of the Xilan Empire was like the empire itself—only to be admired from afar, not to be touched.

But some things, if you don’t understand, you just don’t understand.

Those buried in the red soil could only serve as nourishment for those who came after, letting later generations absorb the dregs from that red soil.

Rasi gritted his teeth and nodded, finally giving the order.

“Martial law!”

In truth, up until now, no one in the tent thought this was a big deal; the only thing they regretted was the loss of those future pillars who had died in the conflict.

They had spent a considerable sum to cultivate those children.

Even Rasi himself regarded those troublemaking fools as no better than the old-timers of the Moon Tribe Resistance—after all, the ones who had always opposed him were clowns of that sort.

But he himself had forgotten that those clowns hadn’t even dared to resist.

This time, those who resisted him dared to shed blood.

Watching Rasi, who was silent and staring at the front-line map, the officers around the command table exchanged glances and murmured among themselves.

“Could it be Abusek’s doing?”

“Isn’t Shawa in the Great Rift Valley? Let him ask.”

“Ha… you think he’ll tell you the truth?”

“If they really instigated this, they might attack! We must be on guard!”

On the other side, in central Yang Province, at the front line where the Brahman Northern Field Army faced off against the Southern Legion, Isher raised his binoculars and gazed at the enemy positions, his thoughts swirling.

He remembered when he was still moving boxes on the docks of the Southern Legion, and now he had become the gravedigger of that same legion.

Truly, nothing is constant in this world.

At that moment, an officer approached him from behind and reported.

“Rasi’s troops are massing to our rear.”

Shaking off the carousel of wild thoughts, Isher lowered his telescope and sighed.

“Any further moves?”

The officer shook his head.

“None.”

After a long deliberation, Isher gave the order.

“Have Yokale take his Eleventh Thousand-Man Cohort… relieve my position. Above all, do not advance rashly! Prioritize defense.”

He paused, then added.

“Also, inform the brothers of the Third Thousand-Man Cohort to follow me and see what this Rasi is up to!”

Originally, he had intended to send Yokale to guard against Rasi, but recalling Yokale’s hot temper and impulsive nature, he abandoned the thought.

What if the other side had no intention to fight, but they ended up sparking the conflict themselves?

Moreover, if a real battle broke out, that brute Yokale would be no match for Rasi.

He wasn’t boasting.

In all of Bara, perhaps only his own bounty could rival Rasi’s.

This was recognition from an enemy.

At the same time, on the front line of the standoff.

Ross, who had risen from commander of a thousand to commander of ten thousand, stood at the observation post, scrutinizing the enemy positions with unwavering focus.

After several rounds of skirmishes, he was almost certain that the man before him was the “Jungle Rat,” whose bounty neared ten million dinars—the foremost strategist of Bara!

At this thought, a hint of self-mockery curled at the corner of Ross’s mouth.

When he first set foot on West Sailport, watching those Bara people who would rather dig holes to bury themselves than resist, yet turned fierce and vicious against their own kind, his heart held only contempt and anger.

Back then, he never imagined that such a pathetic bunch of little rats would grow stronger with each fight, even producing talents that made even a trained officer like him feel daunted…

Thinking carefully, he had actually seen that Isher before, separated by no more than a dozen paces.

He couldn’t help but half-jokingly think that if he had fired a shot back then, he might have changed history…

But that was just a fanciful thought.

Even without the “Jungle Rat,” there would be a “Jungle Snake” or a “Jungle Bird,” or even more troublesome “Jungle Cats” and “Jungle Tigers.”

By now, he could no longer think of how to help the Southern Legion turn the tide; he only wanted to fight a decisive battle and offer his final loyalty to Marshal Julius.

Yet, for some reason, the enemy, once as fierce as fire, suddenly seemed to have wilted.

What were they waiting for?

Ross frowned, his thoughts tangled like a knotted rope.