CHAPTER 831: CHAPTER 831: WE ARE ALL THE PRICE

The curtain of night gradually enveloped the Earth, yet it brought not a trace of peace to the stormy Tiandu.

The siege had reached its fifth day, finally arriving at the bloodiest and fiercest phase of the alley battle.

The Imperial Guard stationed in Tiandu scattered into various streets, engaging in street-by-street and alley-by-alley combat with the rebels who had breached the city walls. However, they were still no match for the endless numbers.

They had no reinforcements.

Yet the enemy’s reinforcements kept coming in a steady stream, and their ammunition seemed inexhaustible.

Five thousand against fifty thousand.

This lopsided battle seemed destined for a predetermined outcome from the start.

That floating "palace" was utterly useless.

Though the starship serving as its foundation was still operational, only the reactor and anti-gravity device were functioning.

It was too old.

Constructed during the Three-Year War, it had hovered in an oxidizing environment for over two hundred years, with people living on this land having built a lavish Imperial Palace upon its spine.

What it bore upon itself was too heavy, preventing it from ascending to the clouds, leaving it to watch as soldiers swarmed over like ants.

Once again, it witnessed a dynasty’s changeover but never awaited its true master.

"Ahhh! These traitors! I wish I could kill them all, flay them, and extract their tendons!"

At the bottom of the palace steps, the Imperial Guard’s officer gazed at the inferno consuming the capital with reddened eyes.

The final line of defense to the palace had been breached!

His subordinate stumbled in front of him, kneeling on one knee, enduring a gunshot wound to his shoulder as he spoke.

"General! We must retreat! Our brothers are almost all dead, Tiandu... can no longer be defended!"

"Retreat?! Never!!"

The Imperial Guard officer roared, grabbing the subordinate’s rifle and heading to the frontline himself to shoot it out with the rebels below the steps.

The sound of gunfire erupted before the Imperial Palace!

Bodies littered the streets below the steps!

People piled corpses into breastworks, lying behind cover as they exchanged gunfire.

The murky blood flowed backward up the steps, ultimately smashing through the gates of the Imperial Palace.

Surrounded by rebels, the Imperial Guard officer was shot to death, eyes wide open, slumped in front of the blood-stained palace gates.

All five thousand Imperial Guards sacrificed themselves, none choosing to retreat.

Ultimately, their corpses were strung up on the flagpole, hung at the entrance of the northern gate of Tiandu.

It was said the emperor fled in that direction.

Tiandu still ultimately changed ownership...

...

That night, Anush ordered grand feasts in celebration to reward the entire army and then swaggered into the Witch Camel’s Imperial Palace.

When announcing the northern hunt, the Witch Camel fled hurriedly, without taking all their rare treasures, eunuchs, and female aristocrats from the palace.

Those pale and beautiful concubines and maids, along with the gold, silver, jewelry, artworks, sacrificial items piled in storerooms, were all laughed at by the Heavenly King.

Some were kept for himself, while others were bestowed upon heroic warriors and trusted followers to spread his name as a benefactor of rain and due rewards.

As for the eunuchs, Anush did not waste them, ordering this group of castrated men to stand upon the palace chessboard, wielding swords and daggers, wearing animal headgear, playing "Human Chess" by the light of the bonfire to celebrate his ascent to the throne.

And he himself sat in the emperor’s seat, dallying with the Witch Camel’s earl’s young daughter, unspoiled by the Witch Camel, while appreciating the pear blossom amid rain-like fragility and watching the river of blood and lamentations on the chessboard.

"Delightful! Hahaha! Utterly delightful indeed!"

Anush laughed heartily, slapping the armrest of the imperial seat.

"Mclen always disdains this kind of war game, but I find it rather fun!"

The strategist standing beside him chuckled deeply.

"It is His Majesty who imparted it with new joy."

Your Majesty...

Anush squinted his eyes slightly, a touch of indescribable pleasure on his brows.

Kingmaking and prime ministerial appointments.

The apex of life was surely this!

"Wolf consumes the Sun, this legend should indeed be fulfilled... As for the Cow People, let’s put them aside for now since this is Cow Province. However, it’s time to start reckoning with the Sun People."

"Convey my orders, confiscate all their properties, demote them to slaves, whoever captures them may have them."

"Also, those nobles enshrined by the Witch Camel, let them stay home to await their fate; if they dare step outside, kill them without mercy!"

The strategist standing beside him bowed respectfully.

"Majesty is wise!"

Rising smoke obscured the night sky.

The enthronement ceremony was scheduled for three days later.

Anush announced the Xilan Empire’s collapse, and the Xilan Dynasty was no more; the new empire was named Yanush Empire, the new dynasty was named Anush Dynasty.

As with many great families, his name became the surname for future generations, and this surname, adorned with various legends, would be supremely honored, akin to the embodiment of the Wolf God on earth.

The entire Heavenly King Army rejoiced from top to bottom, slaughtering pigs and sheep, drinking and feasting merrily.

Unfortunately, the Weilante People of Tiandu fled quickly, not a single one remained.

And those cunning nobles were even faster, fleeing even quicker than their emperor!

Only those nobles of military origin did not escape but instead resisted alongside the Imperial Guard.

Also, those stubborn elders who still held illusions about the Xilan Court.

They soon paid the price for it.

Not only were all their male family members slaughtered, but their female relatives were demeaned to slaves, becoming playthings of the Heavenly King Army.

In the northern suburb of Tiandu, Absek’s Lion Army flag waved amidst the night and bonfires.

Though Absek himself was a Wolf Clan member, born of the Gray Wolf Army, it did not hinder Anush from appointing him as the Lion King.

Therefore, the future Duke of Lion State must also be a Wolf Clan member, and the Lion Clan People must be led under the Wolf Clan.

This was considered a lesson learned from the previous dynasty, improved upon.

Within the military tent, cups clinked and laughter echoed, with thousands of leaders joyously chatting, yet one person was preoccupied.

The name of that leader was Anvo, a confidant of General Absek, the future Duke of the New Empire, who incidentally worked alongside Absek at the same dock.

The only difference was, while everyone else were Wolf Clan members, he worshipped the Silver Moon Goddess rather than the Wolf God.

Though faith here in Poluo Province was not considered one’s identity, lineage was, his worried expression still clashed starkly against the celebratory atmosphere surrounding him.

Absek walked to his side, bursting into laughter as he patted Anvo on the shoulder.

"Anvo, cheer up, haha! From now on, the empire is ours, the Wolf Clan’s! Whether the industrious Cow or the indomitable Sun, they must bow their heads before us! Once the Heavenly King appoints me as general, including you and all present here, everyone will be the Ten Thousand Leader, standing atop ten thousand!"

He pronounced the final half of the sentence deliberately, then downed the fine wine in his cup, prompting a wave of cheers and applause within the tent.

Watching his exuberantly laughing officer, Anvo couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it, downing his cup but without dispelling the worry in his eyes.

Instead, it deepened.

"Thank you, General, for your promotion, but maybe I’m overthinking it, I just feel our troubles are just beginning..."

Seeing the worried look in Anvo’s eyes, Absek laughed loudly.

"You’re still worried about those big noses?"

"Isn’t it reason enough to worry?" Anvo looked at his officer, the future Duke of the New Empire, speaking in a low voice, "We killed so many of them, and robbed them of their arms... those Weilante people won’t let us go."

Upon hearing this, the drunken eyes of Absek suddenly gleamed with brilliance.

Looking meaningfully at his subordinate, he suddenly laid a hand on Anvo’s shoulder.

"Don’t be too naive, Anvo; in this harsh wasteland, naivety is the deadliest."

Anvo swallowed.

"What do you mean, General?"

Absek grinned and said.

"Some will indeed die, but it won’t be us; it will be the emperor of the ’Old Dynasty’... you might not understand this, but why not guess why we won so easily."

"Is that even a question," Anvo answered without hesitation, "of course, it’s because we are united enough. When others are venting by smashing things, we organized, and like a pack of wolves driving prey, we commanded them—"

"Hahaha!" A hearty laugh interrupted Anvo’s speech. Absek patted him forcefully on the shoulder, a cruel smile on his lips, "Is that it? You think you can overthrow the Empire with just this? Anvo, my good brother, I consider you a brother, so I need to give you some advice. This naive idea won’t even pass the checkpoint of Grand Duke Sanjaya of Lion State!"

"You’ve done things beautifully, but that’s not enough. Don’t always believe whatever you see and hear; use your own brain to think about ’why’ and ’what’."

Anvo looked at him blankly, his expression suddenly becoming serious. He respectfully poured a glass of wine for the General, and filled one for himself, then drank it all in one go.

"Please guide me, General!"

Satisfied with the guy’s diligent attitude, Absek, who was also a bit drunk, patted his shoulder and sat down beside him.

"I’ll teach you... but you have to keep these words to yourself."

Anvo nodded earnestly, listening respectfully.

"I will keep the General’s teachings in mind!"

Absek lowered his voice, letting the words be drowned in the noisy sounds around them.

"Yanush is from the Grey Wolf Army, and so am I, and many others... The kings of the thirteen armies are his confidants, his comrades, but among us, there is also a circle he doesn’t understand."

"We quickly rallied around him and put him on the throne, not because he has high prestige among us, but because we needed someone like him... to shoulder the responsibilities of a king, and since he stepped up voluntarily, we let him take it."

The drunken breath blowing into his ear made Anvo shiver, his hands and feet growing cold from the words of that scruffy fellow.

Especially the next sentence, which froze his increasingly heavy breathing.

"The munitions piled in the port warehouse, the train stopped on the rail line, and the military food and supplies rotting in the warehouse, never sent to the front line..."

"Do you really think... those were all prepared for Arai Yang?"

...

What the eyes see may not be true, and the same goes for what you hear.

Yet Eagle never thought the truth would be so exaggerated.

Why were the munitions meant for the frontline just piled in the port warehouse, especially when the port’s storage pressure was the greatest?

Why was there no guard on such important supplies, allowing the rebels to find them immediately and use them against the guards?

And most critically... why, when the incident occurred, those who truly deserved to die were nowhere to be found.

When the last piece of the puzzle came together, all the perplexing doubts he couldn’t understand were linked by interconnected clues...

It was indeed an accidental event.

But chance wasn’t its entirety...

After nightfall.

An old nun lit a candle and led a group to the church basement.

This was Pastor Melgio’s wine cellar and study, and since people often stayed there, the ventilation was decent.

The Silver Moon Sect didn’t ban alcohol, even exalting wine, often using it for rituals.

According to the old nun, he was always steeped in the aroma of wine, writing diligently, sorting stories about Pol, and drafting the "Silver Gospel News."

When the incident occurred, the children hid in this not-so-spacious basement.

The wooden stairs leading to the basement were roughly made, creaking underfoot, serving as a warning for those inside.

Yarman thought he would see his wife here, but found the basement empty instead.

However, upon arriving, the old nun with the silver candlestick heaved a sigh of relief, her tight shoulders seemingly relaxing.

"...At that time, you were overly grieved. I worried that if you knew she was still alive, you’d recklessly go looking for her or tell General McCullen and his men about it."

Yarman instinctively asked back.

"Shouldn’t I have done that?"

The stirring stick whistled lightly.

"It depends. If it’s in the City of Dawn, we’d certainly recommend reporting it immediately. After all, saving people is the highest-paying job. But if it’s a dump like Western Port, even if you report it... they’d just be taken back to the center, right?"

"West... Western Port?"

Seeing the confused Yarman, the battle-savvy Wolf coughed lightly and stuttered.

"He, mixed up... that’s a story from another dimension, unrelated here."

"...?"

Eagle cleared his throat, interrupting his group of friends’ jokes and laughter.

"Alright, think about your handbook... cough, let’s get serious. Since you’re willing to bring us here, it must be because we’ve earned your trust, right?"

"Indeed," the old nun nodded slowly, "Please forgive me for not being entirely honest from the beginning and now asking for your help. After all, this concerns two hundred lives, I must be cautious with every decision I make."

The dog belonging to the conduit laughed and said.

"No problem, aren’t game missions always like this? I get it—"

"Shut up you."

Eagle covered the fellow’s mouth, signaling to the old nun not to mind and to continue speaking.

After a moment’s hesitation, the old nun nodded gently.

"...Thus, while waiting for Mr. Yarman to calm down, I observed you. Now I’m convinced that if even you can’t be trusted... then perhaps no one in this world can help us."

Confronted by the gazes focused on her, she slowly began to speak, recounting the events of that night that no one in the settlement wanted to mention...

...

Time rewound to the night that ignited everything.

A group of people waited anxiously in the church, only to hear the devilish voice drift in from outside.

"Ruby? Tsk tsk... really a lovely name."

Just as the words fell, the church doors slammed open with a bang.

The crowd in the hall stirred in unrest, throwing terrified glances towards the entrance.

Mothers held their children tightly, husbands stood in front of their wives.

With disdain and hatred on his face, Anvo entered, accompanied by more than twenty armed soldiers, stepping into the place he had once prayed devoutly.

"Anvo!"

Recognizing the face, Yishel glared at him, furiously reprimanding, "Do you know what you are doing!"

"What am I doing? And you? Do you know what you are doing!"

Anvo retorted without courtesy, roaring in anger.

"You brought those who shouldn’t be alive here! Over two hundred Vellante people! It was you! You tainted the Silver Moon Goddess’s church with blood!"

"Blood doesn’t taint the church, but dirty souls do!" Melgio stepped forward, staring intently at the man who had once prayed devoutly to him, "You shouldn’t be here, if today you commit a sin, no one can forgive you."

Seeing Melgio, Anvo’s eyes trembled, unconsciously wanting to avoid the sharp gaze, yet the gun in his hand gave him courage, allowing him to glare back fiercely at last.

"...Mr. Melgio, I respect you, I’m grateful for the stories you always tell us and for teaching us to read... because of this, I must advise you not to interfere in this affair! You’re ultimately not a member of the Alliance, only a citizen of Camel Hump Kingdom!"

"I’m not speaking to you as an Alliance member, nor as a citizen of Camel Hump Kingdom, but as a human being," Melgio said, neither arrogant nor subservient, "Go back, pretend you’ve never been here... it’s your only chance for forgiveness for your sins, a step forward is the abyss."

Anvo fell silent.

All eyes in the church were upon him, everyone held their breath, awaiting his decision.

He took a deep breath and finally uttered words colder than moonlight.

"...it’s an order from Yanush, do you think I want to do this... I really don’t want to either, but I’m compelled."

Before Yishel and Melgio could speak, he looked at Margaret holding her child tightly, then at the terrified Butler Sahadu and the insurgent boy named Paven, and continued.

"All Vellante people must die, it’s the order from Lord Yanush, and also from my superior General Absek. If I return empty-handed, I can’t explain to them."

Then he turned to Yishel, speaking with complicated emotions.

"Wake up, Pol doesn’t exist... you think you can save some people, but you’ll only make things worse."

Then he turned to Melgio, the pastor who always prayed with them, reading the newspaper.

"Mr. Melgio, I truly thank you, you showed me that another possibility exists in the world... whether it’s beliefs beyond Thousand Tribes and Thousand Gods, or another realm beyond the Empire."

"I genuinely long for it to descend on this salted land, changing the fate of me and my compatriots... but surely we both know, revolutions never come without bloodshed, when everything comes crashing down, it must be bone-crushing."

"Moreover, even in your stories, beneath the snow in Giant Stone City wasn’t there a skeletal remains. Too many people were buried in the past that night, not everyone saw the dawn of the next day."

Melgio was speechless, staring at him in astonishment, seemingly not expecting such realization from him.

But aside from that shock, the pastor’s eyes also held regret—

Alas, he was powerless, unable to stop the rushing sand, only able to go with the flow.

Or like Yishel, be completely engulfed by the sand.

Anvo continued to silently watch the mother shielding her child behind her.

"Margaret, is it?"

Without retreating, Margaret stood tall, looking into his eyes.

"Yes."

Anvo nodded and continued speaking.

"Today, standing by my side are all followers of the Silver Moon Goddess. I personally selected them to come with me because I do not wish to desecrate the Silver Moon Goddess’s temple."

"I can guarantee you and your child a dignified death, not like those outside who suffer humiliation before death. Execution or hanging, you choose one for you and your child."

Tears welled up in Ruby’s eyes, almost unable to hold back from falling.

But at that moment, Margaret suddenly placed her palm on her head, gently stroking it like her father would, and then held her small hand.

For some reason.

She suddenly wasn’t so afraid.

"Anvo, that’s your name, right?" Margaret looked at him and said, her voice neither humble nor haughty.

Anvo replied with a straightforward tone.

"That’s right, madam. If you hate me, feel free to curse me after death. I will atone in hell."

Margaret shook her head, looking at him, and continued.

"I do not hate you. I am not innocent either. Even if I have never personally oppressed you, my husband and others indeed have, and silence is a grave sin."

"No, madam..."

The maid standing next to him suddenly knelt on the ground, looking at Anvo standing at the door and pleading.

"The madam is innocent. She has always been kind to me and others... I lost my family when I was very young, she took me in when I was sold to the colony, and cared for me like family. Perhaps others have indeed done bad things to you, but please believe me, she is not like those people—"

"Enough, Yolanda, please don’t say any more," Margaret said with a gentle tone to stop her. Then she looked at Anvo standing at the door. "She is a survivor of the Great Desert, not a Vellante, hardly different from you. Can you spare her life?"

Anvo did not object but shrugged.

"Then we’ll trouble Mr. Melgio to dress her as a nun."

He actually didn’t want to kill the innocent, although he thoroughly disliked slaves kneeling to plead for their masters.

Melgio sighed, drawing a crescent moon on his chest, as the kneeling maid shook her head in pleading.

"No... I can die. Please let madam and Ruby—"

"Enough, Yolanda, do I have to tell you to shut up?!" Margaret suddenly raised her voice, interrupting her incessant pleading.

Anvo watched the quarrel within the church without emotion until the woman named Margaret looked his way again.

"Any other pleas for mercy?"

"I don’t wish to plead for myself. As I said earlier, today’s end is a consequence of our actions."

Saying this, Margaret tightly held her daughter’s hand.

"But please allow me to say at least let the children go. They do not have the power to choose how they came into this world, nor should they bear our sins. Our sins should be repaid by us."

Anvo remained silent for a while before speaking softly.

"What I say doesn’t count. Even if I spare them, who knows what will happen when the next group comes—"

Melgio suddenly spoke up.

"They can hide in the cellar. You know that place... if they hide well, they won’t be discovered."

Anvo was taken aback, looking into Melgio’s and the old nun’s eyes. His previously firm expression wavered slightly.

He hesitated for a bit longer, squeezing out a sentence.

"... I don’t care what happens."

The old nun stepped forward, looking at him softly spoken.

"I will hide them. If there’s any trouble, let me bear it. I don’t have many days left at my age... their journey is long."

After struggling internally for a long time, he finally nodded.

"Make it quick, pretend I came five minutes late."

"Thank you."

Margaret looked at him, bowing sincerely.

However, Anvo did not look at her, only taking out a blood-stained cigarette box, shaking out a cigarette.

Because of the trembling of his forefinger, he broke three matches before lighting the cigarette.

The Vellante people in the church understood their situation clearly. They no longer made meaningless pleas, saying farewell words and advice to their children, then entrusted them to the church’s old nun.

"Mom..." Ruby clung to her mother’s hand, unwilling to let go, pleading with her.

"Be good..." Margaret squatted down, gently stroking her head. "No matter what happens, don’t make a sound. Wait quietly for Dad to come back... promise Mom, okay?"

"Mmm..."

Ruby let out a faint sob and eventually followed the old nun’s lead to the church’s basement.

Some children couldn’t help but cry, but under their parents’ watchful eyes, they eventually held back tears that filled their eyes.

They were Vellante.

The Vellante do not shed tears.

From the moment they were born, their tears had dried...

The time of a cigarette.

All the children were taken to the basement, including the old nun, leaving only adults in the church hall.

Anvo tossed the cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out, then looked at Margaret.

"Have you decided how to die?"

Margaret glanced around at her fellow people, then looked at him and said calmly.

"With a gun, see blood, hear sound, perhaps it will keep others from coming."

Anvo curled his lips slightly.

"They will still come, but maybe not as thoroughly... May the Silver Moon Goddess forgive the helplessness of her followers."

He said, pulling the bolt and chambering a bullet.

Just as he was about to act, Yishel, who had remained silent, stood in front of him, staring immovably at him.

Anvo furrowed his brow, his sharp gaze fixed on this bandaged man.

"Doing this only adds another corpse, don’t think I won’t do it."

Yishel looked at him expressionlessly.

"...I never thought like that, there is nothing in this world you cannot do, but after you act, then what."

Anvo said coldly.

"That’s none of your concern."

"None of my concern? We are fellow believers. How could I not worry about you?"

Yishel squinted his eyes, his once righteous face suddenly showing a hint of cunning.

"Those children know your name. If I were them, I definitely wouldn’t thank you for sparing their lives, but seek revenge for killing their father."

As soon as he finished speaking, a commotion spread among the people at the church door, and their faces almost simultaneously showed a faint look of bewilderment and panic.

Not just them!

Even Melgio and Margaret cast surprised and fearful glances at Yishel, not knowing why he said that.

Has this guy gone mad?!

They had finally managed to keep the children safe!

Sure enough, Anvo’s eyes narrowed like a hungry wolf.

Fingers stroking the trigger, he said softly.

"...Should I thank you for the reminder?"

"No need to thank me, because aside from those children, everyone here knows who killed them. Including me standing before you, including Mr. Melgio."

Yishel grinned, staring deeply into his eyes.

At this moment, he no longer resembled the elusive Pol, but a cunning rat.

And a rat daring to show its teeth at a hungry wolf!

"...I guess you’re regretting now. Maybe you even want to kill me, the other believers here, even Mr. Melgio. But let me tell you, it’s useless. Even if everyone here dies, the people outside will still remember what happened."

"How many people can you kill? Can you kill your superiors too? You can’t. He’s going to ask for credit for you, and you can’t refuse it! The Vellante people will surely return, and when that happens, you’re doomed. This blood debt will surely be pinned on your head!"

"And don’t even mention the Alliance, they won’t spare you either... You, don’t even talk about going to hell after death, I know you too well!"

"You don’t believe in all that at all. You’re just looking for an excuse to comfort yourself, am I right? Otherwise, what are you afraid of? Being avenged by the Vellante people, so what? What are you afraid of?"

"Shut up!" Anvo growled in anger, pointing the muzzle at his nose, "Stop measuring others by your own standard, filthy rat! Even if I kill those kids, it’s to eliminate future troubles for the New Empire!"

Yishel looked at him with disdain, not even raising his hands, just clicking his tongue lightly.

"... Tut-tut, look, Thousand Tribes and Thousand Gods is not some Silver Moon Sect belief, the believers of the Silver Moon Goddess wouldn’t treat people like rats. Wolf in sheep’s clothing, keep your eyes wide open, the truly devout stand right here. As for you, you don’t believe in what you say deep in your bones!"

"So what?" Anvo stared into his eyes, the murderous intent boiling within him.

"So what?" Yishel stared at the angry Anvo and spoke word for word, "I can let you live! Or rather, you only have one way to survive! That’s to pretend to kill everyone here, but in fact, not kill anyone."

"It’s impossible!" Anvo lowered his voice and let out a low growl, "The city defenses have surrendered, now all of West Sail Port is under Yanush’s control! Soon the suburbs... even the entire Lion State will be his realm! They can’t escape!"

"Including you?" Yishel seriously looked at him and continued, "I’ve been thinking about something for a long time but haven’t figured it out. Maybe you can give me an answer, why was the person sent to do dirty work at Silver Moon Church coincidentally a believer of the Silver Moon Sect?"

Anvo spoke with a hoarse voice.

"Because I’m more familiar with the roads here."

Yishel chuckled lightly.

"Do you believe that yourself?"

"..." Anvo silently looked at him, already vaguely finding the answer in his heart, yet unwilling to speak it.

Yishel looked into his eyes and spoke the words for him.

"If this isn’t some sort of perverse enjoyment or desperate madness, then there’s only one possibility... they’ve already thought of an exit strategy. They know this is a dirty job, so they’d pick someone relatively the least trustworthy from the surrounding people to do it."

"You’re a believer of the Silver Moon Sect. There’s no one more suitable than you, you unfortunate soul. This is your initiation token. If you do it well, they’ll trust you for a while. But if something happens, they’ll definitely sacrifice you, not themselves."

Anvo bit his teeth.

"...What evidence do you have?"

Yishel sneered, stepping closer, locking his gaze on Anvo and his trembling rifle.

"Evidence for what? Is this a trial by a judge! Sure, there are lunatics among the insurgents, but is everyone a lunatic? Someone told me before, there’s opportunists everywhere here, they’re sharper than anyone! I can believe one of Yanush or your direct superior Absek is mad, but not both!"

"You mean... someone gave them a way out?" Anvo looked at him in disbelief and swallowed hard, "...Who?"

Yishel shrugged.

"Who knows? Maybe it’s the Army, maybe the Alliance, or even corporations or the Academy? Just the big shots from the Wasteland, you and I are their pawns. No, I should say, you are... a useless guy like me isn’t so lucky."

He’s incapable of analyzing who is behind all this.

He knows nothing about the Army and the Alliance, even less about corporations and the Academy. He only learned these terms by chance while listening to Mr. Melgio read the news.

These people have their own plans for the future of the Wasteland. Now their spheres of influence are adjoining, frictions are inevitable.

Maybe someone plans to turn the Poluo Province into a battlefield.

He doesn’t know who that person is.

But he simply refuses to believe that in this land filled with opportunists, those who emerge are nothing but lunatics.

How is that possible?

There’s only one explanation.

Some people are pretending to be mad, or everyone is pretending to be mad.

It’s just that they rely on different things, and he happens not to understand what they rely on, so the ignorant him thinks they’re all mad.

The only person who couldn’t understand the situation, instead seems like a normal person.

The church fell silent.

Anvo unconsciously lowered his gun’s muzzle, staring in disbelief at the guy in front of him.

Just then, Margaret suddenly spoke.

"You’re right, there’s indeed something strange about this..."

A pair of eyes turned to her in unison.

Including Yishel, the kneeling maid, Mr. Melgio, the old nun, and other surviving Vellante people present.

Besides them, there was Anvo holding the lives of everyone present, and twenty soldiers beside him.

They all want to know the answer.

Although regrettably, she doesn’t know the answer, she just faintly feels a sense of unusual discord.

"...No, it was too coincidental."

"What was too coincidental?" Anvo was no longer eager to kill her, but urged her with his gaze to continue speaking.

Margaret pondered for a moment, smoothed her thoughts, and then continued.

"Governor Hu Ye returned to Triumph City. Let’s assume he had a legitimate reason to go back, but what about the others? Like General Mclen, he isn’t married, hasn’t accomplished much in battle, even if he went back to Triumph City, he’d just be ridiculed by others, right?"

"Birthdays aren’t a holiday for the Vellante people to go to Triumph City, they just need to stay with their families, which is the same no matter where they celebrate. Yet, at this time, many people who originally had no reason to leave suddenly left for various reasons."

It seems like the highest officials remaining in West Sail Port are only the captain of the port’s guard and Governor Hu Ye’s secretary.

The Vellante people left at the port seem to be all civilians?

The ones most deserving of being punished, none seem to be left!

That’s the clue she suddenly remembered.

She recalled when the explosion had just happened, she hurried home with Ruby.

At that time, she noticed that many mansions around were empty, only a few houses seemed to be still occupied.

Her home was in the port’s wealthy district, and back then her husband specifically bought their home there to live close to the big figures, including the governor.

But it wasn’t only the governor.

Many people holding vital positions in the Governor’s Mansion left.

Only they were left behind.

As if it was a coincidence formed under some sort of tacit agreement.

Once she realized this, a chill climbed up her heart, like being force-fed a mouthful of cold poison wine.

Even I have realized the awareness of a Slave Owner, how can those people not know the consequences of their decisions?!

They know everything!

Yet they still did it!

And they did it without hesitation!

Whether intentionally weakening the security here or leaving the deadly butcher knife conveniently at the port, it’s all decisive slaughter.

Clearly, Hu Ye merely returned to Triumph City yet took away all his Personal Body Guards.

Even when the front line needs ammo the most, weapons were left at the port!

The city was full of angry survivors, yet what did they do?

They picked the most infamous Hyena from the cage!

That Nagi...

They meticulously chose him!

Margaret’s eyes gradually widened, and she suddenly covered her pale lips unconsciously, trying to hold back the turmoil in her stomach.

Anvo held his breath, nearly unable to grip the gun in his hand.

Looking at the lady in front of him, he spoke with a trembling voice.

"You mean... our uprising... was directed by someone?!"

How is that possible!

"Rather than saying it’s directed, it’s more like being used..."

Gradually regaining her composure, Margaret gently flicked the lock of hair stuck to her forehead with her index finger, trying to remain calm as she continued.

"They didn’t need to do anything. All they needed to do was put fuel where it was needed to burn, hand the matches to those mad wanting to ignite, prepare countermeasures, calculate the time for the fire, prepare everything, and then quietly watch it burn."

"This fire will surely ignite, but it won’t hurt deeply. Then they can naturally get everything they want... and we are the price."

At that moment.

She understood everything.