Chapter 741: Beside That Gentleman, I Saw Another Possibility

Chapter 741: Beside That Gentleman, I Beheld Another Possibility

The rectifying assembly within the operations command conference room, which had kept Lilium suspended in a state of restless anxiety, drew to a close at last.

Though Commander Lin had refrained from using the meeting as a pretext to make an example of anyone, the casual glances drifting from that quarter from time to time made Lilium feel as though a row of needles were pressed against his spine.

Such, it seemed, was the distinct sensation of a guilty conscience.

Yet, much to Lilium’s surprise, setting aside that uncomfortable intuition, the matters discussed by the fellow named Vanus during the briefing had actually evoked in him a fleeting, edifying impression of profound insight.

The man had conducted a clinical, rigorous post-mortem of the coalition forces' lapses during the engagement, addressing both the tactical and strategic dimensions.

While the war had concluded in victory, had the coordination between the various armies been more harmonious, the coalition would never have had to endure such grievous casualties.

Of course, anyone could manage such hindsight-driven summaries—even Lilium himself.

However, to synthesize the problems so methodically and comprehensively in such a brief window, while simultaneously prescribing actionable remedies, required no small measure of genuine caliber.

Staring at the sharp bridge of the man’s nose, a sliver of keen appreciation flickered in Lilium’s eyes.

To speak objectively, this Vanus was undeniably an exceptional talent.

It was difficult to fathom how such an individual had previously been nothing more than a simple centurion among the cannon-flesh contingents of the Expeditionary Force's Eastern Legion.

Had Lilium been his superior, he would have surely recommended him for a mid-level officer position within the Youth Army, promoting him to the high command as soon as his record matured.

When the adjournment was declared.

Lilium remained at his desk for a short while, waiting until the room had mostly emptied before calling out to Vanus, who was preparing to take his leave.

"A moment."

Seeing that it was General Lilium who had detained him, Vanus halted his stride and inquired.

"Is there something else?"

Lilium measured him up and down with a glance, a sudden smile playing upon his lips.

"I do not comprehend it. With your faculties, you could have surely carved out a distinguished path within the Legion. Why, then, choose the life of a traitor?"

Lilium emphasized the word 'traitor' heavily, attempting to discern a flash of shame or some kindred emotion upon the man’s visage.

Only then would it be convenient to steer the conversation toward his next point.

To his astonishment, however, Vanus's expression remained utterly unperturbed; instead, he looked back at Lilium and countered with a question of his own.

"What exactly do you mean by a distinguished path? To become a commander of ten thousand, to rule as a regional governor, or to possess ten thousand slaves and thousands of acres of fiefdom?"

Lilium froze, staring at him for a spell before replying.

"What of honor, then? You are a soldier; at the very least, you ought to possess that."

Vanus smiled faintly, his tone mild as he responded.

"For me, fighting for that which one believes in is the only thing worthy of being called honor. Otherwise, even marauders could claim they fight for honor—they too can shout 'for the chief' or some such nonsense before a raid."

Lilium’s eyes narrowed into slits.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I am answering your perplexity. Did you not ask me why I betrayed the Legion?"

Vanus cast a glance at him, then turned his eyes toward the door, continuing with laconic simplicity.

"Beside that gentleman, I beheld another possibility."

Lilium was slightly taken aback.

"That is all?"

Vanus nodded.

"Nothing more than that."

...

At high noon.

Upon the very front lines where the coalition clashed with the Torch, a group of young men from the Ideal City waited on the ridges of Black Cloud Mountain, preparing to advance toward Broken Blade Mountain.

Tasked with taking over the positions on Broken Blade Mountain from the Storm Corps was the 1st Regiment of the 100th Mountain Division.

From the commencement of hostilities until now, these lads had not slain a single mutant; instead, they had collected a fair assortment of colorful cards, and their frames had grown a fraction rounder from the rations.

Even so, they had not forgotten the purpose that had brought them to this place.

Every face bore an expression of eager anticipation, itching to ascend and prove their mettle, to demonstrate they were no mere consumers of rations.

Listening to the faint, muffled cadence of gunfire echoing from the distant peaks, Tang Feng felt the hot blood surging within his chest. The knowledge that he would soon be headed there made him grip the G9 assault rifle in his hands instinctively, his index finger rubbing restlessly against the safety catch.

It was not born of fear.

It was born of exhilaration.

Months of unremitting training were finally about to find their purpose.

"Are the mutants in these mountains not entirely wiped out yet?"

The officer standing a short distance beside him nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he peered ahead, speaking with sharp clarity.

"Those creatures are like cockroaches; the time required to root them out completely is no less than the time spent breaking them on the main battlefield... whether it be by the sea, in the woods, or deep within the mountains."

With those words, he strode to the vanguard of the entire company, surveyed those rows of vibrant, youthful eyes, and raised his voice.

"Once we reach the front lines, you are to maintain absolute vigilance. Keep your eyes wide open, and report every suspicious threat!"

"I shall say this only once: this is no game. A single blunder could cost you your life, or the lives of everyone here!"

"Understood!" Having listened to their commander's exhortation, the soldiers of the 1st Company roared in high spirits, Tang Feng included among those who had questioned earlier.

Observing this spirited band of youths, the commander nodded slowly.

"You had best truly understand."

The brethren of the 2nd Battalion had already begun their march toward the front lines. Several companies of the 1st Battalion had waited half the day without receiving their orders, prompting the officer to command them to disperse and rest, merely instructing his men not to wander too far from the assembly point.

Black Cloud Mountain was, after all, a position belonging to the Willantes.

This was no recruit camp; he had no desire to bind his subordinates too tightly, yet he harbored concerns that these energetic youths might spark a conflict with the Willantes.

Who could help the fact that they were naturally at odds?

Tang Feng did not wander aimlessly; he simply sat with his comrades from the 2nd Platoon of the 1st Company, watching those dust-caked, large-nosed soldiers nearby while engaging in casual, drifting conversation.

"Is that the 2nd Regiment?"

"It should be the 1st, shouldn't it?"

"But I heard the ones leading the assault last night were from the 2nd Regiment. How did they end up black and blue as well?"

A machine-gunner curled his lip, his voice laced with a thread of mockery.

"That brings us to the petty cleverness of these big-noses... Word is, they wanted to show off for us last night, dragging the 2nd Regiment—which was supposed to be rotated out—straight to the front lines. As it turned out, that bone was not so easily gnawed, and they fought the mutants to a bloody standstill. Later, that fellow Lilium probably couldn't afford to lose face, so in a fit of humiliated rage, he pressed the garrison forces into the fray as well."

"And so they lifted a stone only to drop it on their own feet?" a rifleman interjected with a teasing cadence.

The machine-gunner chuckled.

"Haha, precisely so."

The 1st Cohort?

Tang Feng vaguely remembered the designation.

That exhibitionist who stripped off his coat to flaunt his muscles at every turn seemed to be in that unit, though Heaven knew how the fellow was faring now.

To be beaten black and blue by a pack of mutants was a wretchedly embarrassing affair.

When next they sat down for cards, he would have to mock the scoundrel mercilessly.

With the Blue-Eyes White Dragon held high in his hand!

Just as these thoughts drifted through his mind, a Weiland, leaning heavily upon a crutch, came limping and shuffling in their direction.

Judging by his attire and the insignias on his shoulders, the man appeared to be a decurion.

His left leg seemed broken, his head was swathed in bandages, and the raw wounds peeking through suggested the cruel bite of fire.

At the approach of the Weiland, the lads of the 1st Company, 2nd Platoon fell silent, tracking the limping figure with their eyes, wondering what the fellow intended.

By long-standing custom, nothing good ever came of a Weiland initiating an encounter.

Yet to the astonishment of the gathered youths, this begrimed soldier seemed to bear no malice; he merely cast a sweeping glance over them before speaking.

"Are you the 1st Battalion, 1st Company?"

The platoon leader, seated in their midst, looked up at him.

"We are. What of it?"

The Weiland’s lips twitched into a grimace.

"Looking for someone... Is there a fellow named Tang Feng among you?"

Seeing his comrades turn their eyes toward him, Tang Feng set his rifle aside, leapt down from the boulder where he sat, and scrutinized the stranger.

"That’s me. What do you want?"

The Weiland gave a stiff nod and, wasting no words, pulled a parcel from beneath his armpit and tossed it into Tang Feng’s embrace.

Looking at the utterly bewildered Tang Feng, he spoke again, his voice slow and deliberate.

"My brother left a final wish in his will. He tasked me with sending his letters and personal effects home... all except for this thing. He told me to find a lad named Tang Feng in the 1st Company, 1st Regiment, 100th Division of the Enterprise, and throw this at him."

Receiving the bundle, Tang Feng instinctively tore it open and peered inside, only to find it stuffed with brightly colored, gaudy cards, leaving him momentarily dazed.

"Your brother was..." He raised his head blankly, looking at the Legion decurion before him.

"Damon."

The decurion bared his teeth again, perhaps in an attempt to soften his rigid expression, or perhaps it was merely the involuntary twitching of burnt muscle.

He looked at Tang Feng and recited the dead man's final words.

"He told me to tell his family that he was a true warrior, and that they shouldn't weep for him. To sleep before growing old was his honor, and they should take pride in his valor... The fool talked entirely too much, but a true warrior has no need for such trinkets anyway, do they? Keep it for him."

Pausing, the decurion’s Adam’s apple bobbed before he added.

"Furthermore, he bade me tell you that playing cards with you was actually rather amusing... though he regretted never landing a punch on your face."

"Where we come from, that is how we make friends."

Leaving those words behind, the decurion leaned on his crutch and limped away into the distance, leaving only Tang Feng holding the parcel, frozen in place, while the lads of the 2nd Platoon sat upon the rocks, exchanging dumbfounded glances.

That fellow...

Was dead?

Staring down at the bundle in his hands, Tang Feng swallowed hard against his will, feeling the fingers encased in his exoskeleton turn slightly cold.

It was only when a distant voice rang out that his senses snapped back.

"Assemble!"

Hearing his commander's shout, he awoke with a jolt, giving himself no time for further thought as he reflexively tied the parcel, flung it onto his back, and snatched up the rifle resting nearby.

Only at this very moment did the stark truth crash into his mind.

This was not Ideal City.

Nor was it a game played upon the Endpoint Cloud.

This was a true battlefield...

...

Three days had slipped away in the blink of an eye since the conclusion of the allied high command's "rectification meeting."

Throughout these three days, the front lines had remained undisturbed, save for sporadic gunfire echoing now and then from Broken Blade Mountain; large-scale campaigns and skirmishes were virtually non-existent.

Yet, this peace felt more like the oppressive stillness before a tempest.

During this interval, the Academy had been continuously funneling troops toward the front.

The strength of the Alpha Mobile Task Force, stationed around the Weifu Military Base, had expanded from its initial thousand men to a force three thousand strong.

More than that, the Academy’s aircraft soared over the Blood Mountain almost daily on reconnaissance missions, occasionally dropping drones to test the mettle of the mutants.

In contrast to the Legion's "gambler" style of assault and the Enterprise's method of figuring things out as they fought, the Academy seemed to favor meticulous, exhaustive pre-planning, reducing the margin for error and the tolerance for mistakes to absolute zero, aiming to conclude the struggle with a single, decisive blow.

It had to be said that this perfectly mirrored the Academy's way of doing things; when they plotted an enterprise, few could ever discern their true intentions.

Chu Guang, however, could not help but wonder how they would pivot if their plans failed to keep pace with changing realities, or if their adversary played an unexpected card.

He was not alone in his curiosity; the other commanders of the alliance shared the same intrigue.

Presently, the Alliance, the Legion, and the Enterprise had each secured a position, and all eyes were now fixed upon the Academy to see how they would perform in the coming conflict.

A campaign of unprecedented scale was quietly brewing in the shadows...

...

Outside the Weifu Military Base, along the northern banks of the Wei River.

Bridges of earth and narrow ridges intersected across the fields, where Rat-kin soldiers, baskets strapped to their backs, worked with lowered heads in the dirt.

The war between the Mutual Aid Community and the Torch seemed to possess no relevance to them, and to date, their sole military achievement consisted of trailing behind the clone army to inflate the casualty count.

While everyone else awaited the Academy's next move, they had already overturned every inch of soil along the northern banks of the Wei River, and had now progressed to the stage of sowing seeds.

These soldiers of the feudal lords were mostly born of serfs or domestic servants; though amateurs at warfare, they were masters when it came to tilling the earth, even if their tools and techniques remained primitive.

They poured the seeds into basins, mixing them evenly with fine sand and the ash of burned weeds, before scattering the mixture into the freshly turned earth.

The plot closest to the military base was a vegetable garden, planted with seasonal greens, particularly the cabbage meant to accompany pig’s trotter rice.

Beyond that lay the potato patches and other crops.

A bit further out, they had even fashioned paddy fields, seemingly intent on catching the late June window to plant a round of late rice.

General Babita had promised them that once the crops in the fields were harvested, they would all receive a bountiful reward.

Though they never entertained grand expectations for an abstract term like "bountiful," being spared from dying at the front lines was a blessing in itself.

Furthermore, these seeds and saplings had, after all, been scraped together by General Babita from their own food allowances.

Consequently, everyone labored with undivided devotion; not a soul dared to slacken, and they even took it upon themselves to protect these farmlands belonging to the Xilan Expeditionary Force, waging small battles against the "bullies" of the Southern Construction Brigade.

Even if these farmlands, nominally belonging to the Expeditionary Force, would likely yield a result no different from the funds allocated by His Majesty the Emperor—ending up in the pockets of General Babita and his officers—a few scraps would invariably find their way into their own bellies.

Just as the ratfolk were busy at work, two excavators came rumbling one after the other from the direction of the Wei Mansion military base.

Beside the excavators followed a group of construction workers in work uniforms.

Without a doubt, they were all from the Southern Construction Corps.

The ratfolk looked up and saw them, their expressions turning as if facing a great enemy. They dropped their baskets, grabbed their hoes, and surrounded them.

Under pressure from their superiors, a ten-man leader steeled himself and stepped forward, shouting at the man sitting on the excavator.

“What are you doing here?”

A construction worker walking beside the excavator responded.

“Building a road.”

Everyone was stunned for a moment, thinking they had misheard.

The ten-man leader glanced at the excavator’s bucket, then back at the construction worker, repeating with suspicion.

“Building a road?”

The construction worker said succinctly.

“That’s right. There’s leftover cement from the military base project, so the higher-ups ordered us to build a few roads along the Wei River, linking this whole area with infrastructure... Once the roads are done, it’ll be more convenient for you to come from the base to farm.”

Hearing this, the crowd’s faces showed surprise, exchanging incredulous glances.

They distinctly remembered that just a few days ago, these people had tried every trick to drive them away.

Why were they suddenly being kind today?

The ten-man leader wore an expression of disbelief, watching the construction worker warily.

“What are you really up to? Why the sudden road construction?”

The construction worker said helplessly.

“Well... there’s no ‘why.’ Alright, let me make it clearer. The Alliance plans to build a settlement here; from now on, this whole area will be part of ‘Wei Mansion City.’ Not only will there be a road here, but the nearby Kun Town will also get connected.”

This was something that Commander Li Jinrong had mentioned at the meeting two days ago.

Since it wasn’t confidential, and with so many people present, word would spread anyway, so he didn’t bother keeping it a secret.

At that meeting, Li Jinrong had not only talked about the plan for Wei Mansion City but also about the future plans for both the regular and non-regular personnel of the Southern Construction Corps.

Apart from the wages stipulated in their contracts, after the war ended, the Southern Construction Corps would give each of them who chose to stay and live locally a house of at least a hundred square meters, along with a shop that could be rented out or run themselves.

Although the houses and shops here weren’t as attractive as those in Dawn City, the potential for development here was obvious to everyone.

Otherwise, the refugees who had taken over houses in nearby abandoned villages wouldn’t have made the brothers of the Southern Construction Corps itch with envy.

With the coalition forces stationed in this area, more and more survivors from the southern part of Jinchuan Province were gathering here.

Not all of them came to do business; most were drawn by the safety, stability, and order here.

Even if the war ended and the coalition forces withdrew, the order here wouldn’t vanish overnight. Some would stay and become residents of this area.

At first, he and his colleagues thought these outsiders were just here to pick up easy gains, but after hearing Commander Li’s analysis at the meeting, they changed their minds.

The Wei Mansion Wasteland had no special resources—only the land that was most abundant in the wasteland, and that could be found anywhere.

In comparison, people were the most precious wealth.

Because the survivors of the wasteland were willing to gather around the Alliance, the houses the Alliance built had value.

In other words, everything they were doing now wasn’t for those refugees—it was for themselves, to make their future homes more valuable!

With such a tempting carrot dangling before them, they naturally lost interest in those muddy patches by the river.

Even building roads for these “idle” ratfolk didn’t draw a single complaint.

But after hearing the construction worker’s explanation, the crowd erupted in uproar.

Before their ten-man leader could speak, a ratfolk stepped forward anxiously and asked.

“Wei Mansion City?! This is your territory now? Then... what about the land we’ve been farming?”

The construction worker said with a smile.

“It won’t affect you. If you want to keep farming, go ahead. I remember the Alliance’s law says something like—if you farm it for two years, it becomes yours.”

He hadn’t actually studied whether that was written into law, but that was how it worked in Dawn City.

The land north of Linghu Lake, after being farmed for two years or so, no longer required a share to be given to Evergreen Farm.

He just said it offhandedly, but to the ratfolk’s ears, it made countless eyes widen in shock.

Farm it for two years and it’s yours?

Such a good deal?!

Their eyes were filled with envy and a burning, almost visible desire...

In the Bolo Province, no one had ever said such things to them.

No one stopped the Southern Construction Corps’ construction team anymore, and the two excavators didn’t drive into their fields to cause damage.

The two sides demarcated the boundaries between farmland and roads, each doing their own work without interference.

Watching the ratfolk successfully “repel” the Southern Construction Corps, the thousand-man leader Kumar, standing in the distance, breathed a sigh of relief, a contented smile spreading across his face.

“General Babita truly sees through everything.”

Those disgusting rats were still useful after all.

Weren’t those hypocrites saying they wanted to unite the lower classes?

General Babita saw through their pretense at a glance, turned their trick against them, and pushed these lower classes right into their faces.

Although these fields belonged to the Expeditionary Force, that was the explanation for the ratfolk. For the Alliance, they had another story: the rats’ farming outside the military base was their own doing, unrelated to the Xilan Empire’s Expeditionary Force.

Sure enough, faced with those hoe-wielding ratfolk paupers, these pretentious River Valley people were immediately caught in a dilemma.

The fact that they drove the excavators straight ahead was the best proof.

Though these fellows hid their embarrassment well, Kumar saw it at once: those two excavators had originally been headed for the fertile plots by the river.

These guys were up to no good!

Just as Kumar was eagerly running off to report another victory of the Expeditionary Force to General Babita, Chu Guang, who was strolling around the Wei Mansion military base, suddenly received an unexpected message.

The caller was Yin Fang.

After listening to his account over the communication channel, Chu Guang was completely stunned.

“...Are you sure that’s a ‘Prowler’?”

“Mm... I can still tell a tractor from a tank, especially one with such distinctive features. But that’s not the key point. The key is that this tank is different from the wrecks we recovered from the center of Qingquan City and Luoxia Province. The ‘Meissner Armor’ generation unit inside the hull is intact. We infer it wasn’t destroyed—more like it was abandoned after running out of fuel.”

Chu Guang could hear a clear hesitation, even confusion, in Yin Fang’s voice as he said this.

“But I can’t figure it out. The existing records don’t mention the People’s Union Army deploying armored forces in southern Jinchuan Province... And how did a farmer from Mafu Town even find this thing?”