Southern Legion General Headquarters.
A burly figure stands before the command table, staring intently at the map table with pale blue light particles floating on it.
Under his personal command, the entire Bartoya Province and even the northern shore of the Whirlpool Sea have become connected into a chessboard.
With the continuous fermentation of the "Mortal Serum" virus, this chess game has entered its final stage.
At this moment, on the orderly chessboard, the flag representing the 117th Ten-thousand Men Team has been marked with the gray symbol of the rebels.
The least determined piece has been the first to be ousted, and currently besieging them is the tenth ten-thousand troops of the Servant Army and the "Iron Crossbow" rapid reaction force.
At this time, a pale blue figure appeared beside the command table, a plain-looking man nodding slightly.
That man was one of the chess pieces on the board, the commander of the "Iron Crossbow" rapid reaction force, Hains.
Looking at his confidant, Teil asked expressionlessly.
"What's the reaction from Triumph City."
Hains reported respectfully.
"No movements for now."
No movements...
Upon hearing this answer, a hint of surprise flashed in Teil's eyes, and his expression gradually became solemn.
He left the map table and paced back and forth in front of the bookshelf beside him, then turned his gaze back to the map table, his brows deeply furrowed.
Only two possibilities.
Either Triumph City is in internal chaos and unable to extricate itself, or his opponent is more formidable than imagined.
This confrontation has reached this point, and for the first time, he felt it was tricky.
Through those floating pale blue particles on the map table, he seemed to see his opponent.
It was a man whose emotions did not show, like an experienced hunter, indifferent to the taunts of his prey.
The hunting bow was hidden in the shadow of a cloak, ready at any moment to deliver a lethal strike!
He could feel that curling index finger tightening the bowstring, yet he couldn't see the sharpness hidden within.
And that is the most dangerous...
"...Why hasn't he made a move yet."
Muttering softly to himself, a rare trace of irritation appeared in Teil's heart.
Over the past month, the majority of Bartoya Province's population had been gathered to the north, with almost full-load capacity at each port sending refugees northward, yet still unable to penetrate the twenty quarantine zones set by Triumph City...
"Charge forward!! Slaughter these traitors for me! Chop off their heads!"
Looking at the rock-solid fortifications ahead, Mur's eyes turned a blood-red as he gripped his communicator and issued a hysterical roar.
On the other side was the same, after taking over the command of the 117th Ten-thousand Men Team, the young adjutant Barfica immediately deployed defenses and repelled wave after wave of assaults from the tenth ten-thousand troops of the Servant Army through a tiered firepower network.
"Brothers!!!"
"That bastard Teil drove Marshal Julius' children into the sea, the devils wearing human skin have betrayed the Marshal, and have betrayed the Weilante people!"
"Those who died today are your neighbors, tomorrow it'll be your children, your parents!"
"We will never hand over the hundreds of thousands of survivors in the camp to their hands! Never—!"
Although it was heavy-hearted to fight against their own, it was comforting that Teil, with a guilty conscience, ultimately did not dare to bring the Regular Army over to suppress the rebellion and instead let the Servant Army handle the dirty work.
They would show no mercy in face of the alien race.
Of course, the same could be said for the opposite side.
To prove their worth, to climb to a higher position like the pangolin, Mur and his subordinates also fought ferociously with bloodshot eyes, launching wave after wave of fierce assaults on the positions of the 117th Ten-thousand Men Team like hungry wolves.
The beach of the entire Bartoya Province had completely turned into a meat grinder, with thick blood staining almost every inch of soil and sand.
Yet what was unspeakable was that this wasn't a battle of the Southern Legion counterattacking the Union State's beach landing, it didn't even occur between the South Wind Legion and Triumph City.
An out-of-control fire rose to the sky, swallowing everyone caught in it, and continued to grow stronger.
And burning in that raging flame was not only the blood and flesh of the Weilante people but also their collapsing spirit.
Among them were not just the Weilante people.
There were also the alien races that submitted to them.
Looking at the positions that couldn't be taken and the heavily wounded subordinates, Mur's bloodshot eyes widened, and the ambition burning in his heart flashed with a moment of hesitation.
He always felt that his opportunity to rise had come, but now it seemed that might not be the case.
He grabbed the communicator and contacted Commander Hains, who ordered him to attack, and shouted at the top of his voice.
"My troops have suffered heavy casualties, we need artillery support! Otherwise, we cannot continue the attack!"
The fierce battle lasted an entire night.
Until a glimmer of white appeared at the edge of the sky, the long-awaited sound of artillery fire finally rang at dawn.
However, to his disappointment, the shells all missed without exception, either falling into the sea or crashing onto an uninhabited beach.
Due to heavy casualties, he eventually ordered a halt to the attack.
And as the assault of the tenth ten-thousand troops subsided, the soldiers of the 117th Ten-thousand Men Team facing the sea finally had a chance to catch their breath, holding the precarious position and the hundreds of thousands of survivors in the camp.
At the same time, majestic shadows appeared on the distant horizon of the sea.
Barfica, acting as the temporary commander of the 117th Ten-thousand Men Team, looked at the distant sea surface, and hope finally ignited in his pupils.
It was reinforcements!
The compatriots from Triumph City did not abandon him, that Leader did not deceive them!
He stood up from the trench and shouted into the communicator in his hand.
"Brothers! The ships to take us home are here! Hold on!!!"
...
With the advance of the Union State Fleet into the Whirlpool Sea, the battle situation on the northern shore of Bartoya Province was instantly reversed.
Those towering silhouettes stood on the billowing sea surface, like moving steel fortresses.
Even without doing anything, those thick, long artillery barrels themselves were an invisible deterrence, shaking the soldiers of the tenth ten-thousand troops of the Servant Army.
Seeing the warships emerging on the horizon, Mur was completely stunned, at a complete loss for words.
He wasn't the only one dumbfounded, so were Hains, the commander of the "Iron Crossbow" rapid response force, and Teil, who was plotting far away in Yavente City.
Especially the latter, upon learning that the Union State of the New Continent had joined the fray, he froze completely at the command table, speechless for quite some time.
The New Continent had just announced independence not long ago, logically they should be on guard against Triumph City.
At least that should be the official stance.
Yet he couldn't have anticipated that the Leader of Triumph City actually roped in these "rebels" into their camp, and those notoriously money-grubbing fellows agreed!
How did that guy persuade them?
Teil was utterly stunned.
Meanwhile, on the flagship of the Union State Fleet, Commander Kirk serving as the captain stood at the bow, holding a telescope, gazing towards the coastline.
The enveloping smoke obscured his view, only allowing him to clearly see the area near the dock.
Even so, this scene of utter chaos deeply shocked him.
"Roderick, do you remember what the Bartoya Province used to look like?"
The adjutant standing beside him shrugged slightly.
"Who knows, I've never been there... Besides, does it matter anymore?"
Kirk smirked slightly.
"You're right..."
No matter what the Bartoya Province was like before, it has now completely turned into a living hell.
Previously, the Bartoya Province, as the first "overseas" land personally conquered by Marshal Julius, was once seen by countless Vellante people as the place most likely to end the Wasteland Era first.
For a very long time, the Southern Legion indeed led the other forces within the army.
In a sense, their existence has already foretold the almost inevitable future of the army—
Reaching the peak of madness, and then heading towards final extinction.
...
As Kirk gazed at the shore, the people on the shore also looked in his direction.
Figures emerged from the black smoke, gathering towards the dock.
Most of these people were the elderly, children, and women.
Even in the battlefield, they still lined up neatly, quietly waiting for the boat to pick them up.
"The water in front is too shallow; we can't get closer." Looking at the faces on the shore, Roderick, the adjutant, frowned and said.
Hearing this, Kirk smiled faintly and turned the binoculars northward.
"Don't worry, it's not just us coming here."
Roderick instinctively looked up, and saw a series of small black dots appearing in the direction of the Vellante Province.
He took out his binoculars and looked toward the horizon, seeing numerous ships of various sizes heading in their direction.
The big ones were ferries tens of meters long, and the small ones were fishing boats only a few steps wide, forming a continuous line on the sea.
In front of The Union State's fleet, these small boats looked like ants beside an elephant, yet they were more than enough to transport the people on the shore to the warships.
These ships were previously requisitioned by the Southern Legion from the civilians to transport refugees to the Vellante Province.
Now, after more than a month, the quarantine zone in the southern Vellante Province has been constructed, and the resources originally from the Northern Empire and Eastern Empire are enough to sustain the millions of new residents around Triumph City.
Moreover, the earliest refugees to land were already able to leave the quarantine zone, and forces including the Alliance expressed willingness to share the burden of the influx of refugees into Triumph City, taking in refugees flowing out of the Bartoya Province.
According to the refugees' own wishes, some of them would leave the Vellante Province for the New Continent, or travel across the ocean to the eastern part of Central Continent, Baiyue, and Haiya Province.
Up to now, the influx and outflow of people in the quarantine zone have achieved a dynamic balance.
Triumph City no longer needs to control the influx speed of refugees from the Bartoya Province, and can even spare efforts to help the Southern Legion transport those displaced survivors.
On the other hand, the Southern Legion's "final mission" plan, launched at all costs, has been completely declared a failure.
Under the united efforts of Triumph City, the "Mortal Serum" is firmly controlled within the quarantine zone.
Even though the researchers from the Academy and the Alliance have not yet developed reliable special drugs and vaccines, the elderly, women, and children infected by the "Mortal Serum" can no longer act as a weapon for the Southern Legion.
In fact, from the moment the "Mortal Serum" was controlled by Triumph City, the Southern Legion had already lost the war.
Soon, as the incubation period ends and the peak of the disease hits, they will have to swallow the bitter fruit they brewed...
...
With the help of those small boats, hundreds of thousands of survivors stranded on the northern shore of Bartoya Province were finally able to escape to safety, boarding the ships sent from the New Continent to pick them up.
Daunted by the pressure from the warships, Mur, after weighing the pros and cons, ultimately did not order his forces to continue attacking, and Commander Hains, who was overseeing from the rear, did not urge him either.
These refugees were supposed to be sent north anyway.
Now that the other party proactively sent ships to pick them up, it was exactly what they wanted.
However, he did not know that this orderly retreat was not what Legion Leader Teil wanted to see…
Meanwhile, on the north shore of the Whirlpool Sea, in the quarantine zone in the southern Vellante Province, neat rows of clean tents were erected on the open space near the beach.
A little over a month ago, this was still a barren land, but now it surprisingly has a bit of a thriving feel.
Nearly three hundred thousand survivors live here, divided into various communities of ten thousand people each.
The communities have hospitals, canteens, police stations, and even temporary classrooms and community centers for residents.
Although the facilities here look a bit rudimentary, everything operates in an orderly manner.
There are nineteen similar quarantine zones along the coastline, each housing a different number of people.
The quarantine zones with earlier numbers no longer have new patients and are allowed to leave the quarantine zone.
Everyone has packed their luggage, cleaned the tents they lived in, and went to wait beside the highway outside the quarantine zone for buses to take them to the vicinity of Triumph City.
Once they leave, the newly arrived survivors from the Bartoya Province will move into the tents they once lived in, waiting for the now experienced medical staff to conduct health checks on them.
As more than a month has passed since the outbreak of the "Mortal Serum," this new batch of refugees landing has already included some patients in the onset period.
Most of them are physically weak and lethargic, with signs of organ failure.
Thankfully, these people boarded proper ships.
If they had used rafts tied with ropes to cross the sea, their chances of survival would have been slim to none.
For those already in the onset period, healthcare staff in Triumph City injected them with inhibitors researched by the Alliance to stabilize their condition, preventing further deterioration.
With hundreds of thousands of civilians safely ashore, soldiers from the 117th Ten-thousand Men Team on the last ship also gradually stepped onto the port.
Not far from Deepwater Harbour, an open-top off-road vehicle was parked by the roadside.
The general of the Eastern Empire was sitting in the car.
Looking in the direction of Deepwater Harbour, he squinted slightly, a subtle smile playing at his lips.
He had two tasks at hand.
One was naturally to support Triumph City.
The other was to assess how long the Southern Legion could hold out.
Legion Leader Salen was extremely interested in the legacy of the Southern Legion, and this did not conflict with their cooperation with the Triumph City.
In fact, it wasn't just the Eastern Legion that had not had any direct interaction with the Western Legion for half a century, but this first high-level cooperation in half a century happened to occur during the effort to save their compatriots, leaving no room for disagreement.
Even the most out of sync Northern Corps sent three ten-thousand person teams and supplies for over a million people to assist Triumph City in maintaining order in the quarantine zones and to help deal with the crisis.
In the years following Marshal Julius's disappearance, there was no disagreement regarding saving their compatriots.
"After Marshal Julius disappeared in those years, at least on the matter of saving our compatriots, there was no disagreement."
"Even the most independent Northern Corps dispatched three ten-thousand troops and supplies for over a million people, assisting Triumph City in maintaining order in the quarantine zones and overcoming the crisis."
Now, Julius is back.
The warlord sitting on the back seat laughed again and added, with a half-joking tone.
"Besides, that fool's opponent is Julius. How could he possibly have any chance of winning?"
The adjutant was taken aback, his expression turning to surprise.
"Julius... but wasn't that lord already passed away?"
"Who can say for sure?"
The general on the back seat laughed, adjusting the brim of his hat with a casual tone.
"He's indeed gone."
"But he's also back."