Leaving the Glory Court, Hologen got into the car parked at the bottom of the stone steps and returned directly to his residence.
Without a moment's pause, he immediately proceeded to the study, opened the panoramic conference device, and contacted Commander Teil of the Southern Legion, far away in Yavente City.
Looking at the holographic bust floating in the pale blue light, Hologen instantly showed a respectful expression and nodded in report.
"Commander, the side of Triumph City has rejected our request to reopen the borders."
Teil slowly opened his mouth to speak.
"Did the Leader mention any reasons?"
"The reason is still that Mortal Serum. The Imperial Guard firmly claims to have received conclusive information that the stolen Gene Source Code has been used to create genetic weapons targeting the Weilante People." Hologen's expression showed slight hesitation as he spoke softly, "I feel Commander Rezer doesn't seem to be lying... I'm thinking, should we also pay attention to this?"
Although he didn't doubt the Southern Legion's intelligence department's work abilities, it was equally hard for him to believe that the Imperial Guard would make such statements without concrete evidence.
Especially since his family was still in Yavente City.
If the "Mortal Serum" really existed, he couldn't help but worry about his family's safety...
Commander Teil looked at him silently, seemingly deep in thought, without any reply for a long time.
Understanding this, Hologen didn't disturb him, but then, suddenly, he remembered something.
"...By the way, Commander Rezer asked me to relay a message to you."
Commander Teil finally seemed to react, looking at him expressionlessly.
"What did he say?"
Hologen truthfully reported the answer.
"He said... that His Excellency the Marshal is watching you."
At the moment he heard this sentence, Teil's expression remained unchanged, but his heart couldn't help but tremble for a moment.
But it was only for a moment.
He knew it was impossible.
The Marshal was already dead, and had been dead for more than a century; this fact couldn't possibly be false.
Trying to use the name of a dead man to scare him...
Teil's mouth curled into a cold arc, making Hologen, standing in the meeting room, instinctively feel a chill down his spine, as if facing a poised venomous snake.
What happened to his respected commander?
Countless confusions poured into his mind, especially as he recalled Commander Rezer's meaningful gaze.
Hologen's Adam's apple moved, wanting to voice his inner confusion, but his throat felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton, unable to utter a single word.
Teil offered no explanation, just ended the unpleasant conversation with an expressionless face.
"I understand."
Seeing that Teil seemed intent on concluding the meeting, Hologen quickly added.
"I will try harder... perhaps there's some misunderstanding here."
"Hmm."
Teil nodded without any indication, and the pale blue holographic image disappeared from Hologen's study.
Clearly, the Imperial Guard had already detected something through their intelligence network, which is why they adopted this countermeasure.
Though it was unclear how the information leaked to Triumph City, since it already happened, Teil no longer harbored hopes of resolving the issue through diplomatic means.
However—
If these weaklings thought he would give up like this, they underestimated him.
Southern Legion General Headquarters.
Teil rose from behind the desk, walked to the window, and gazed over Yavente City, a forged world of metal and cement.
Every inch of land here flowed with the blood of the Weilante People.
Compared to Norton City, famous for "conquest," this was the true "City of Conquest"!
"The Southern Legion will not surrender. Even if the old Alliance has abandoned us, we will launch another charge against the enemies of the Weilante People in the name of the Legion."
He raised his head to the sky, staring at the thickening clouds, his resolute and icy face full of determination.
"The ultimate victor will be us."
The tasks ahead were evident.
Without a trace of hesitation or nostalgia, he stepped away from the office and headed directly to Research Institute No. 68, not far from the general headquarters.
This research institute was located at the very center of Yavente City, on the 68th floor of the "Tower of the World" building.
The entire building's exterior was crafted from alloy, resembling a long knife piercing the ground from the sky.
One and a half centuries ago, the survivors of Yavente City forged this alloy building using the legacy of the Prosperity Epoch and used it as a "vertical processing center" to store black boxes and other relics recovered from Bartoya Province, trying to rebuild their imagined Prosperity Epoch.
However, due to real-world factors, this grand project met a predictable end.
Later, the legion conquered Yavente City and made improvements to the entire building, successfully transforming it into a military-industrial base integrating production and research!
The research projects conducted in this building are far more than just the "Mortal Serum".
However, at present, the "Mortal Serum" indeed holds the highest possibility of realization among all the decisive weapons.
Seeing Teil appear in the laboratory, Martin immediately put down his work and walked over.
"You're here? I was just about to find you for a report. According to your instructions, 476 pathogens have been deployed. Once they reach Triumph City, it is expected that all the city's survivors will be infected, and symptoms will appear within 14 to 30 days... By the way, are you really okay without the Gene Source Code? Even if you regret it now, it's too late."
Even with the Gene Source Code, it's not guaranteed that the Weilante people will be 100% uninfected, but at least it won't be as severe as other survivors.
Confronted with his inquiry, Teil remained unmoved.
"No problem, that was my plan from the start... If anything, it's better this way."
Just as Rezer had guessed, he uttered this statement in a cold-blooded tone.
Martin stared at this esteemed Legion Leader for a moment, sighed lightly, and said.
"You're a madman, aren't you worried about getting infected yourself?"
But speaking of it, even if this guy gets infected with the Mortal Serum, he probably wouldn't actually die.
Martin realized he had asked a stupid and unnecessary question.
Even at the point of organ failure, this guy could directly replace it with bionic organs, and if it couldn't be treated, he could lie in a sleep cabin and wait until it could be cured.
This virus, with its widespread destructive effect, actually has extremely limited lethality on individuals.
It is because of this that he predicted in the contagion model that this virus would eventually face obstruction in Ideal City.
Most residents there have installed bionic organs, and the medical security system there is the most advanced on the Wasteland.
But by then, it wouldn't matter.
Ideal City is invincible only when it stands with the Waste Land Wanderers, isolated they are nothing significant.
"You don't need to worry about my matters, we have encountered other troubles now."
As expected, Teil didn't take his concern to heart, ended the topic with one sentence, paused for a moment, then continued discussing the current situation.
"The Imperial Guard is clashing with us, and now Triumph City has closed its borders to us... I want to know if there's any other way to spread the Mortal Serum without using Triumph City."
Hearing this, Martin's expression became serious. He rubbed his chin, pondered for a moment, then shook his head and said.
"It's a bit difficult... Triumph City is the most suitable, even one could say it's necessary."
Teil continued to ask.
"What if we don't use humans as carriers? Like birds or fish—"
Before he finished speaking, Martin unceremoniously interrupted him.
"Impossible, this is the Wasteland out there, it's now the Wasteland Era. Do you think Bartoya Province is still the same Bartoya Province from three centuries ago with a thousand flights daily?"
The environment on the Wasteland is full of uncertainties, causing species on the Wasteland to rarely leave their familiar living areas, and those types that liked to migrate vanished in the early Wasteland Era.
As it stands, only humans still possess both migratory capability and motivation for long-distance migration.
To spread the virus to the eastern part of the Great Desert, Triumph City is almost essential to their plan.
Because it's the only place with railways leading to the Eastern Empire, and currently only the Eastern Empire's trade routes lead to the Alliance in the east.
After listening to Martin's explanation, Teil nodded solemnly, then slowly began to speak.
"It seems we only have one move left."
The pondering Martin turned his gaze to him, curiously asked.
"What move?"
Teil paused for a moment, then continued in a calm, even cold-blooded voice.
"...The capacity of the quarantine zone has limits. As long as we evacuate the Weilante people from Bartoya Province to the Welch Governorate under the guise of 'Pilgrimage to Triumph City', and provide them with enough ships to cross the Whirlpool Sea... Even if Triumph City mobilizes all its armed forces to maintain order, their defenses will be overwhelmed by sheer numbers."
Emptying the 'useless population' from Yavente City could also reduce the losses Yavente City would suffer in this crisis, increasing their odds of winning the final competition.
However, the moment Martin heard these words, he was stunned.
Is this guy insane?
Having all the civilians of the Southern Legion head north, charging towards the spiritual homeland of the Weilante people!
This is... such madness!
He originally thought his own ideas were already inhumane enough, yet he didn't expect this Legion Leader to surpass him!
Millions of the elderly, women, and children leaving their homes, just hunger, cold, and possible accidents on the way could wipe out more than half, without even needing the virus to act.
Even if their veins flowed with the blood of Genetic Warriors, these fellows were human, not some aliens or variants.
Thinking of that hellish scene, Martin's shoulders trembled with excitement.
"You're simply a genius..."
To Martin's praise, Teil's expression remained unmoved.
"You're too kind."
He has no time to hesitate or go slowly.
After all, the "Mortal Serum" has already been deployed, and soon there will be infected in the quarantined areas along the coast of Yavente City or the Vellante Governorate.
Considering the proportion of Vellante people involved, there's no doubt that Vellante people will appear among them.
By that time, even the high-ranking officials of the Southern Legion, who were originally loyal to him, will gradually realize that the impact of the "Mortal Serum" is indiscriminate.
The reason the clinical reactions in the lab showed that aliens, especially the Poluo people, were more affected is merely due to the Vellante people's advantage in constitution.
If an Awakening with an enhanced immune system were used in the experiment, there would be the same probability that a sneeze would be nothing, which proves nothing at all.
Therefore, he must act before everyone notices the problem, bringing things to an irreversible point.
Only in this way can he stop those short-sighted fools from jumping off the wagon...
...
As it turned out, Teil was not joking.
The day after the messengers of the Southern Legion communicated unsuccessfully with Triumph City regarding the opening of borders, his personal guard walked the streets of Yavente City with armbands, carrying out a special operation codenamed "Mission Finale," shouting into loudspeakers.
Annoyed by the noisy ruckus, an old man of about 60 opened his door.
His name was Bazel.
Because of the "ingenuity" of those two fools, Teil and Guryang, two of his four children died at the front in Poluo Province, one is still missing, and only the one who went to the New Continent is living well so far.
Others might not dare to confront the personal guards directly, but he certainly wouldn't tolerate those bootlickers.
Standing at the door, Bazel was about to lash out at the patrolling soldier, but the latter spoke first, looking at him and shouting.
"Why haven't you left yet?"
Old Bazel was taken aback by the words, his brow tightening.
"Leave? Where to?"
The soldier replied matter-of-factly.
"What else could it be? Of course, it's to attend Marshal Julius's funeral! His Excellency the Marshal devoted his life to us, in this final moment, we should at least see him off."
Seeing the soldier's loyal demeanor, Bazel's attitude softened, and he muttered in a low voice.
"Marshal Julius... We should see him off, but I have no relatives in Triumph City. Going there would only cause inconvenience. He would understand my plight, my wife and I will mourn him at home."
Hearing the old man's reason, the young man smiled and said.
"Don't worry! Commander Teil will arrange your accommodations in Triumph City, including the boat to get there."
The old man furrowed his brows, looking at him suspiciously.
"Really?"
The young man replied with an unhesitating tone.
"Of course, it's true! Could Commander Teil's words be false? By the way, if you insist on staying home to show your loyalty, that's possible too, though lately both war and plague are approaching... You've heard, right? Yavente City is going to be under military control in a few days."
The old man looked at him in astonishment.
"So sudden? Is this Commander Teil's order or the consensus of the Southern Legion's leadership—"
"Does it make any difference? As far as I'm concerned, it's all the same."
Seeing the old man still hesitant, the soldier with the armband urged him to continue.
"If you plan to go, you'd better hurry, there's still a bus to the dock, but there won't be any later."
"Alright, at least let me pack my bags..." Unable to resist the urging, the old man grumbled, closing the door and heading back to the bedroom.
Watching her husband pull out the suitcase, the over fifty-year-old woman had a look of worry in her eyes.
She had been listening to the conversation downstairs earlier, but based on her many years of experience, she felt that things weren't so simple.
"Dear, I always feel there's something wrong with this..."
The old man snorted.
"Of course, I know, something big is probably going to happen in Yavente City again."
That young fellow was too inexperienced, clearly hadn't seen the world, to be able to utter such a foolish statement as "Could Commander Teil's words be false."
In the eyes of Marshal Julius, when did Commander Teil ever speak a word of truth?
He simply didn't bother to argue with that guy.
After all, from this stance, Commander Teil was obviously serious.
Undoubtedly, someone had pushed this guy to the brink.
"Then why are we packing our bags?" His wife came up behind him and continued worriedly, "I'm afraid if we leave this time, it'll be hard to come back."
The old man, while packing, replied without thinking.
"What else, stay here? Don't be silly, hurry up and pack... I'll think if there's any relative I can contact, let's leave this damned place first."
While the old man packed his bags, it was roughly the same in every household.
The personal guards involved in the operation were unaware of the true objective of the so-called "Decisive Mission" special operation; they only carried out the tasks assigned by their superiors and handled their own responsibilities.
The coordination and collaboration between various organizational units were as tight as gears in a chain.
Some were responsible for mobilization, some for spreading rumors, and others for coercion and seduction.
War and plague were approaching Yavente City!
If you don't want to suffer, go to Triumph City to attend Marshal Julius's funeral!
After all, this is what the Weilante people should do.
They promised the citizens that they would reimburse their travel expenses and provide vehicles and boats to assist them in reaching the Welch Governorate across the Whirlpool Sea.
And after Julius's funeral, everything in Yavente City would return to normal.
As for those who stayed, they would have to endure wartime restrictions and considerable hardship, since the Imperial Guard had lost the Weilante people's gene source code, and this was a very critical period.
Whether out of fear of war and plague, or loyalty to Marshal Julius, the citizens of Yavente City voluntarily left their homes and set out on their journey to Triumph City, without needing much persuasion from the personal guards.
Most of these Weilante people were either related to the residents of Triumph City or were immigrants from the Welch Governorate who had moved to the south.
After hearing news of the fall of Evernight Harbor, many of them had already considered leaving Yavente City.
Because of this, when they heard the series of promises made by the Southern Legion's high command, they didn't waste much time on mental preparation and quickly packed their belongings to set out.
Not only that, they even planned which relatives to seek refuge with once they reached Triumph City.
However, at this moment, they were unaware that Triumph City had already closed its borders.
And the transportation promised by the Southern Legion's high command would likely be merely some rafts without any power devices.
In just one day, one-fifth of Yavente City's population had left, while the remaining four-fifths were either standing in line or waiting and watching.
To solve the transportation shortage, the Southern Legion even dispatched trucks from the barracks.
The massive procession resembled winding serpentine lines, stretching endlessly as far as the eye could see.
At the same time, while these hundreds of thousands of residents were relocating to the northern region of the Bartoya Province, a hundred thousand Servant Army troops also deployed to the north of Bartoya Province.
They would be responsible for building twenty camps, crafting transportation tools for the Weilante civilian migrants heading north, and driving away those unwilling to leave across the sea.
Such work could not be entrusted to the Weilante people.
After all, constrained by morals and honor, some Weilante soldiers would refuse to follow orders, even if they were from the personal guard.
There were precedents for such occurrences, and once incidents occurred, they often resulted in significant chaos.
Thus, giving the task to the alien race was most suitable.
When faced with the Weilante people, they would absolutely show no mercy.
In fairness, the mobilization capability of the Southern Legion was indeed strong, and their societal control extended far beyond that of the West Winds and the subsequent Poluo Country.
Driven by a blend of faithfulness and coercion, the Weilante from Bartoya Province poured fervently like devout pilgrims towards the vast coastline.
It wasn't just the Weilante; a few members of the alien race also joined the migrating populace.
Some were roughly driven away, while others were frightened by the Southern Legion's propaganda rhetoric depicting the Alliance's ruthless armies.
On the third day after the "Decisive Mission" action commenced, the first batch of "beachhead landing troops" were forcefully boarded onto ships.
Upon seeing the rafts appearing on the horizon, Maloc standing on the destroyer's deck lost all color in his face, his eyes wide in frenzy.
"Damn it..."
In front of him lay at least hundreds of ships!
After realizing the ferries were unfeasible, these folks resorted to breaking up into smaller units!
Forget his mere destroyer, even sinking all the airships from Triumph City into the sea wouldn't block all these ships!
After all, these were Weilante people, sharing the same blood flowing in his veins; he couldn't possibly open fire and sink them!
Let alone firing, if these people fell into the water, he would have to save them!
"These lunatics... do they not value their lives!?"
Maloc cursed incoherently, immediately placing his hand on the shoulder communicator, reporting the situation on-site to the Near Sea Defense Fleet's command.
The news was escalated, level by level, quickly reaching Triumph City, then transmitted to the Glory Court.
Upon hearing from the phone the next step of Commander Teil's plan, the Old Soldier widened his eyes in disbelief, involuntarily blurting out, "Shit!".
This guy wasn't just flipping tables; he was freaking out! He even went as far as using de-urbanization!
Luckily, only a narrow strip of sea, barely two hundred kilometers wide at its closest point, separated the two provinces.
If it were double that distance, none of these cannon fodders could survive ashore; they'd all drown along the way!
Rezer also furrowed his brows, gripping the chair's armrests tightly, suddenly breaking them into pieces with a "bang".
"This is genocide against the Weilante people. We cannot let this madman continue his rampage!"
Seeing the shocked look on the Leader's face, the 172-year-old man exuded an overwhelming aura of killing intent, his voice icily cold.
"Leader, declare war on the Southern Legion!"