Chapter 1060: Disarm

Chapter 1060: Disarming

In Triumph City,

beneath the steps of the Hall of Glory, scattered sparks flickered—torches held by the citizens of Triumph City.

From the threat of the Death Agent to the Celestials, the residents of the Warlander Alliance had weathered every crisis.

Now, with the Alliance and major survivor factions jointly declaring the end of the Wasteland Era, the battlefield atmosphere team finally found the moment to confess everything to the people of Triumph City.

From the Battle of Falling Leaf Valley to the lone ride through the Sunset Province, from the critical mission at West Sailport to being imprisoned after being caught in a power struggle—he recounted every encounter along the way in full detail.

Including that he was a resident of Vault 404, including that he had initially joined the Legion to gather intelligence, including that he was later moved by another side of the Warlanders, including his decision to do something to help those around him and all those trapped by the past…

Except for the parts about the game and the players, he confessed nearly everything he could… though even if he said nothing, no one would blame or question him.

But thinking of everything that had happened since Marshal Julius’s departure, after much deliberation, he ultimately chose to face those who supported him with honesty.

Some things could be left to time, but if some things weren’t done today, they would surely become regrets in history.

Contrary to the battlefield atmosphere team’s expectations.

After hearing his account, the Warlanders standing beneath the steps of the Hall of Glory were calmer than he had imagined.

Including Corwi,

including Penny and her father, the Myriarch Benoit… and all the civil officials who had supported his rise.

Perhaps—

they had already guessed.

The battlefield guy wasn’t sure about others, but Benoit might have suspected something early on.

But at that time, Triumph City needed the Alliance’s help, and indeed, no one in the city could step up to carry the banner, so all who knew tacitly turned a blind eye, overlooking these unimportant details.

Politics itself is the art of compromise.

At least for the civil official group representing the citizens of Triumph City, whether the regime in Warlander Province was called the Legion or the Warlander Alliance didn’t matter.

What mattered was whose interests it represented, whose voice it spoke for, and whom it protected.

That fellow might not have been a skilled governor, but he truly cared about those who supported him.

That was enough.

In the shadow of the side hall.

Watching the pangolin standing on the steps, Myriarch Benoit was silent for a long time before letting out a soft sigh.

“…He’s an honest young man, but unfortunately not a mature politician.”

Penny’s expression was far more complex—shock and bewilderment, sadness and grief, along with confusion and many things she couldn’t name herself.

Though she had sensed something before, especially after learning he came from River Valley Province…

But each time, she convinced herself, burying her doubts deep in her heart.

Yet she never expected him to lay it all bare himself…

“…Why did he lie?” Penny’s eyes were full of confusion, as if the filter in her heart had shattered.

Benoit glanced at his daughter and sighed softly, uncharacteristically taking the side of the “pangolin.”

“Though it may be hard for you to accept, from my perspective, his actions could already be called honest… He just selectively withheld part of the truth at certain times.”

“But why?” Penny looked at her father in bewilderment, her eyes filled with anguish. “Couldn’t he… have confessed everything from the start and made things clear to us?”

Benoit was silent for a moment before speaking.

“Let me ask you instead: if he hadn’t done that, would you have stood firmly with him back then at West Sailport and Sky Capital?”

Penny stared blankly at her father, momentarily speechless.

She wanted to say “yes” without hesitation, but found she wasn’t as unwavering as she had imagined.

Seeing Penny’s confused gaze, Benoit’s eyes suddenly held a hint of approval and kindness.

He reached out and stroked her hair, acting like a father for the first time in a long while—not like a minister.

“When you start to hesitate, it shows you’re beginning to examine your own heart… unlike other inexperienced youths who blindly chase progress as a fashion.”

“People always want others to hold nothing back, yet rarely are willing to face their own hearts honestly. We all know that we humans ourselves are not flawless beings, so why force others to become what we ourselves cannot?”

“I’m not saying his actions were glorious, and perhaps as you said, he might have had better choices or could have done better—but such things only exist in our imagination.”

“At least in terms of results, he never used your trust to do anything to wrong you, nor did he wrong those who supported him, even when he had many difficulties himself… Judging by deeds, not intentions, I think that’s enough. Even I, in the same position, couldn’t have done better.”

“I think… most people in this settlement think the same way. And on the murals of the Hall of Glory, there will be a wall belonging to him.”

When everyone longs for a perfect saint, what they ultimately get is a silver-tongued deceiver.

Because only a deceiver can fulfill every wish in people’s hearts… no matter how contradictory, twisted, or unreasonable those wishes sound.

In fact, Tyr was such a being.

He painted an era where Warlanders could do anything, and promised those who followed him that such an era would surely come.

In the end, he led everyone into hell.

So much so that at the very end, with his dreams shattered, he unashamedly revealed his twisted and ugly spirit, wanting not only to destroy everything in the Southern Legion but also to wipe out the Warlanders themselves from the world.

It’s hard to say that was due to the Celestials’ corruption.

After all, it wasn’t the obsession of one or two people, but of everyone in the Southern Legion.

Penny lowered her head with a complex expression, her heart a mix of emotions, momentarily unable to speak, as if hesitating over something.

Benoit said no more, simply turning his gaze to the distant steps.

He suddenly realized his daughter had grown up, no longer the naive girl she once was.

She should live her own life.

He silently made up his mind: whatever decision she made, he would respect her choice…

…

The speech was nearing its end.

And as the pangolin had said at the beginning, this was his last speech.

“…My mission is over. The road ahead is yours to walk, and only yours to walk.”

“Grip the reins in your hands—never hand them to anyone, always keep them in your own grasp. Be loyal to yourselves, to your families and friends, to those you love… Before doing anything, ask yourselves if you can face them. That is the highest form of loyalty.”

“As for me—”

“I will return to the place where I set out.”

The battlefield guy bowed deeply, then stepped down from the platform, merging into the crowd holding torches.

From now on, he would no longer be the governor of the Warlander Alliance, but an ordinary resident of Vault 404.

Before this, he had thoroughly prepared for the aftermath, even spending the past six months on this.

After his resignation, the civil official group would initiate a new selection process, choose the next governor, subject him to public oversight, and lead the survivors living in this province forward into the new era…

People instinctively made way for him, nodding in greeting, shaking his hand, even saluting.

For the respect shown by the people, the battlefield atmosphere group responded with a smile.

This play had finally ended, and at the most fitting moment, it concluded with a proper beginning and end.

After all, he was not a professional politician, nor did he possess the rich managerial experience of an administrator. Continuing in the position of consul would surely lead to failure, so it was better to hand it over to truly capable experts after the Wasteland Era ended.

With the help of the Praetorian Guard and the civil service, he perfected the selection mechanism, scope of authority, and accountability system for the consul position he had created, institutionalized the existing political factions, and turned what was once a black box into a relatively transparent one... That was the only thing he could do in the end.

As for the rest, he would leave it to history to judge.

He had ultimately let no one down, and after confessing everything, he became himself again.

His heart felt only an unprecedented lightness—the long-awaited day had finally come!

This undercover agent had climbed from the grassroots all the way to the top, and in the end, he could retreat with widespread acclaim—

If the administrator didn’t grant him the title of "the greatest spy in Alliance history," it would be hard to wrap things up.

The people standing at the foot of the steps of the Glory House watched him leave.

With reluctant gazes, they watched him get into the black car parked by the roadside, and even after the taillights disappeared at the end of the road, they lingered for a long time without leaving...

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night.

For everyone in this city, it was the same...

...

Back at the temporary residence.

The battlefield veteran simply packed his luggage, planning to return to the Alliance the next day.

His work here was done, and he had received high praise from the administrator.

It was said that after the open beta, a new version would be released, along with new maps and main storyline content.

To avoid falling behind other players, he needed to spend some time leveling up and catching up on the progress he had missed.

"This power armor... I’ll leave it for the locals."

Looking at the gold-plated power armor, the battlefield veteran felt a bit reluctant, but in the end, he decided to leave it here.

Although Julius had given it to him, these things were imbued with the emotions of many Valyrians and were no longer the private property of any one person.

Perhaps he had gotten too deep into the role, too immersed—he simply couldn’t treat the people here as mere NPCs.

In his heart, they had long become his comrades, his allies, even his kin by bond rather than blood...

"...Oh well, I’ve already gotten my mission reward anyway." Muttering to himself as he looked at the golden power armor, the battlefield atmosphere group suddenly curled his lips into a smile.

He believed that if Marshal Julius’s spirit in heaven were watching, he would be pleased with his choice at this moment.

Letting go was harder than holding on.

The golden armor shimmered faintly under the light, as if acknowledging his decision.

Just then, light footsteps came from outside the door, followed by a knock.

"May I come in?"

It was Penny’s voice.

Though he wasn’t sure how to face that face, the battlefield atmosphere group finally said, "Come in."

The door creaked open.

Penny stood at the entrance.

She wore a one-shoulder long dress, its slightly slit hem reaching her knees.

Her soft brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, the ends tracing bold curves like a squirrel’s tail falling from a treetop.

Unlike her usual simple and efficient style, she was dressed up like a princess in a stage play traveling incognito—decisive yet composed and elegant.

Caught in her sapphire-like gaze, the battlefield atmosphere group didn’t know where to look, his eyes suddenly landing on the suitcase in her hand.

"...Where are you going?"

He made small talk, but Penny, who responded, seemed prepared.

She glanced at the open suitcase on the floor and lightly curled her glossed lips.

"Wherever you go, I go."

Perhaps because he had stepped down, the battlefield atmosphere group no longer had the composure he had on the podium just moments ago. He coughed hastily.

"Don’t joke—your father is a minister, and starting tomorrow, I won’t be the consul anymore."

"What does that matter?" Penny said nonchalantly. "That’s his business, not mine."

Seeing her indifferent expression, the battlefield atmosphere group couldn’t help but mutter under his breath.

"It’s none of your business, but in the end, he’ll kill me."

Penny raised an eyebrow slightly, challenging him.

"Are you scared?"

Out of masculine pride, the battlefield atmosphere group certainly couldn’t say he was scared.

But out of masculine responsibility, he finally said, "Don’t mess around."

"I’m going back to the Alliance soon... As for the future, I don’t even know where I’ll go myself."

Penny teased,

"You pulled off such a earth-shattering stunt, even startling the Emperor of the Eastern Empire and the President of the New Federation—your administrator can’t just make you disappear, can he?"

The battlefield atmosphere group shook his head.

"That’s not the case, but I might go to the new map to pioneer—cough, I mean another planet, the kind outside the solar system."

"So what?" Penny said carelessly. "I’ll go with you, won’t that work?"

The battlefield atmosphere group stared blankly at this willful woman before him, feeling she had changed somehow, yet unable to say whether she had become more mature or more childish.

Perhaps it wasn’t her who had changed, but himself—who had suddenly become hesitant and overthinking.

He hadn’t been like that before.

Seeing the pangolin—or rather, the battlefield atmosphere group—unable to speak, Penny continued in a serious tone.

"I’m not joking with you. I don’t care about ‘code names in the shelter’ or ‘real names in reality,’ and I can’t remember such complicated things... I only know one thing: you are my pangolin. So, what’s your answer?"

"Frankly speaking, that’s a very attractive proposal. Can I interpret it as a confession—"

She didn’t want to hear any more of his nonsense. She tossed her suitcase through the door, then, under his stunned gaze, hooked her arm around his neck, twisted him around, and pinned him against the door.

The door slammed against the frame with a bang, the abrupt sound echoing in the empty corridor.

Maybe this was the Valyrian tradition—

But wasn’t the role reversed here?

The battlefield atmosphere group initially thought about resisting, but suddenly realized he wasn’t actually that opposed to it.

After all they had been through together, he had long had the answer in his heart... It was just that, hindered by some concerns and a sense of responsibility, he had never crossed that line.

And just a few hours ago, with his confession, those concerns no longer existed.

His head buzzed for a moment, and in the end he could only squeeze out a single sentence in a pleading tone.

“Wait—I accept your feelings, but can I at least change to a nicer-sounding name?”

Damn it!

The name Pangolin gave him zero sense of immersion!

He should never have listened to those bastards’ instigation back then—he might as well have used his real name!

After all, it was his name, no problem there.

But regretting it now seemed too late.

Watching this guy who had shot himself in the foot, a devilish little smile crept across Penny’s face as she bit down without mercy.

“Don’t even think about it!”

……

The night passed without a word.

……

The next morning, sparse light filtered through the gaps in the leaves outside the window, spilling across the messy room.

The overturned chairs and scattered cabinets looked as if a tornado had swept through.

At this moment, the Battlefield Atmosphere Group, sitting by the bed, had entered a state of post-coital clarity.

Recalling the madness of last night, he couldn’t help but smack his own head a few times.

Originally, they were both novices pecking at each other, with theory far outweighing practice, and they had agreed to stop at a touch in their sparring—but both of them were too stubborn to back down.

In short, because someone said something smug like “You sure play your cards well,” the card game accidentally dragged from midnight into the wee hours.

Facing the provocation of the gifted Valiant, the Battlefield Atmosphere Group finally managed to uphold the dignity of the Fourth Calamity before collapsing from exhaustion.

But unfortunately, his integrity was completely shattered…

Gazing at that serene sleeping face bathed in sunlight, a gentle smile suddenly rose on the Battlefield Atmosphere Group’s face.

Come to think of it, this was the first time he had seen her like this.

Her even breaths gently stirred the stray hairs resting on the tip of her nose; he reached out to brush them aside, only to find those sapphire-like eyes fixed on him without moving.

“You’re awake?”

Penny nodded lightly, saying nothing, just looking at him with adoring eyes.

She looked like a well-fed cat, lazily licking its paws in the sun.

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group felt his heartbeat quicken, yet a pang of tenderness struck him as he gently stroked her soft hair.

“Can you get up?”

No sooner had his words fallen than Penny, who had been lying on her side, sat up with a yawn, stretched, and casually grabbed a piece of clothing to drape over her shoulders.

“Are you kidding? Just a little injury—it’s nothing to me.”

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group made a helpless expression.

“Are you sure? That’s not what you said yesterday.”

“That was an exception.”

Penny narrowed her eyes and curled the corner of her mouth slightly.

“I won’t lose next time.”

He felt that this girl’s competitive drive was directed at strange things, but the Battlefield Guy didn’t want to argue.

From now on, he’d have to be more gentlemanly, giving in more when he should.

After all, she had sacrificed so much for him and decided to accompany him to a place so far from home…

As if reading his gaze, Penny reached out and flicked his forehead with her index finger.

“Listen, I don’t want you to think I’ve made some huge sacrifice, or that you owe me a massive debt, turning this into some kind of transaction.”

Taking that soft yet strong hand, the Battlefield Atmosphere Group spoke in a solemn tone.

“I swear I never thought that way. I was just thinking… about my responsibility.”

Though it sounded cheesy, he couldn’t find a better way to put it.

“You’d better not,” she said, narrowing her cat-like eyes with a lazy voice. “As for responsibility, just think about your part. I’m not a child—I’ll take responsibility for myself.”

As she said this, she suddenly looked at him with a half-smile, speaking in a tone that was no joke.

“So if you dare to be unfaithful to me or do something to wrong me, I won’t wait for my father to act—I’ll do it myself.”

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group had no doubt she could do it, even though she was no match for him in a real fight.

But that kind of thing would never happen—he could vouch for it with his integrity.

Both in reality and in the game.

Looking into those sapphire-like eyes, he made the most solemn promise of his life.

“I swear! If such a thing ever happens, I won’t trouble you to lift a finger—I’ll handle it myself.”

Those bright eyes rippled with emotion.

She could feel that there was not a single shred of reservation in this promise.

It was not a vow made in anyone’s name or with a name that could be discarded at any time, but a solemn commitment from one soul to another.

They stared at each other without blinking, and the room fell into silence.

At that moment, any words seemed superfluous.

Biting her lip, Penny held his gaze for a long time, finally confirming that equally unreserved feeling, and then burst into laughter.

“No, I’m the one who decides that.”

Tossing out this line with a hint of coyness and cunning, she suddenly pounced like a hunting tiger, pinning the unsuspecting Battlefield Atmosphere Group down onto the pillow.

Outside the window, the snow-laden branches swayed and creaked in the north wind, and the falling snowflakes drifted like a wedding gown the sky was dressing the earth in.

Perhaps—

He didn’t really need to leave in such a hurry.

The Battlefield Atmosphere Group thought for a long time.

In truth, he hadn’t let no one down; he had almost let down the one person he should never have let down, leaving a girl who had been through thick and thin with him as a regret.

He might as well stay a few more days.

He had to explain things about Penny to Benoit, and also meet his future mother-in-law.

It was shameful to say.

He had been in Triumph City for so long, always busy with serious matters, and had never even formally visited her home.

Though the Valiants didn’t care much about such things, he still had his own traditions and cultural customs…

Tough situation.

How could one possibly bring this up with the family?

Marrying a two-dimensional character?

Wouldn't that get me sent to Professor Yang's place!?

His mind a jumble of chaotic thoughts, this time the battlefield veteran had utterly lost a round.

Looking at that smug face, he completely gave up, lying flat and raising his hands in surrender.

Forget it!

Anyway, I'll just take it step by step—get this marriage done before returning to the Alliance.

That was Penny's idea too.

Although she also said it was just a heads-up, and if her old man didn't agree, they'd just ignore that geezer—but he couldn't be as willful and reckless as she was, leaving an eternal regret in this otherwise happy ending.

In any case, the time before the birthday was bound to be busy...