Chapter 953: Chapter 953: Redemption!
The venomous serpent hibernating in the cave finally survived the harsh winter, just like the blood-red buds dormant on Lowell’s chest.
Perhaps the Moon King never intended to plague his own descendants, and even hoped for a day when history would reckon with him... just like that nameless soldier who, in that icebound season, came to his senses and turned his gun toward Lowell.
Yet, when faced with that heavy epic, all of them, without exception, softened.
Whether they were kings and generals, nameless soldiers, or obscure experts.
It was already too late.
"Bang!"
The sudden gunshot added a touch of melancholy and murderous tension to the festive atmosphere in Mammoth City.
The young men whose passions had not yet been extinguished rushed forward once again with determination, just like their teachers had taught them in class, facing Witch Todd and Laxi with the same steadfast spirit.
The people surrounded the city hall, demanding an explanation.
Their demands were actually quite reasonable; they didn’t even ask for further action, such as putting Laxi on trial.
Yet, even such moderate demands were fatal for the Mammoth Nation.
There was no alternative; the concentration of responsibility was too intense.
Countless individuals were like grasshoppers strung together on a thread, each flourishing or perishing with the others.
This predestined that the Mammoth Nation could not give an inch in the face of the overwhelming tide; even the smallest concession would be a cliff’s edge.
If the same thing happened in the South Sea Union, at worst they could just dismiss Li Minghui.
But this was the Mammoth Nation.
Once Laxi stepped down, the first to be purged would be the charge team, followed by his associates...
It wouldn’t just be a question of individuals claiming kingship, but the scattered sand would have to be shattered again, and a towering dam of heads would have to be erected over the Tasang River!
There was no need for Laxi to give the order; the troops stationed in the city had already acted first.
At any cost, they couldn’t let the crowd storm the city hall.
The children were too young to have learned how to express their demands politely, and the Mammoth authorities had not yet had enough time to learn the art of handling public sentiment.
Soldiers fired warning shots into the sky, but no one gave way. Soon, one after another fell, and then no matter how justified their reasons were, they couldn’t clarify them.
Seeing the children slumped on the ground, the fathers returning from overseas labor were also enraged, ultimately causing the conflict to escalate into a larger upheaval, nearly affecting the Silver Moon Goddess Church in the district.
In this entire incident, there were no rights or wrongs.
Only consequences.
And when everyone suddenly realized this, even those who weren’t wretched saw abruptly that their heels had already sunk into that inch of red soil—that shocking, blood-stained history.
Just as many Kents had hoped, the miracle of the Giant Stone City did not happen in Mammoth City.
Looking at the telegrams and newspapers sent simultaneously from the rear, Laxi, who was fighting against the remnants of the Southern Legion on the front lines, wasn’t just fuming to the point of distortion, but trembling all over with rage.
"What nonsense! I... damn it! Motherf***er!"
He suddenly realized he couldn’t justify himself anymore.
Indeed, it was true he had blown up the dam, but he hadn’t expected it to flood the entire downstream village, and later he had tried his best to compensate those people.
If he had confessed at the time, it would’ve been okay, since everyone was taking lives recklessly back then. Even the "Empire’s War God" Arai Yang was on a killing spree. What could a group of half-awake people do?
Perhaps, they would even think he was open and honest, a true villain.
And later, as long as he "turned over a new leaf," and put a new dam up... just like he had done, everyone would praise him as a brave and responsible man.
But now it’s too late to say anything.
His enemies exposed the matter for him, and they did it with embellishment, using the most shameless method—from results deducing the cause, making even the "overseas labor" idea that came later a big conspiracy under the flooding.
At this moment, he was like an enraged lion with sharp teeth and claws, yet didn’t know whom to attack.
This was inevitable.
He was skilled in things Absek was not, and naturally, Absek was good at things he wasn’t.
Looking at the infuriated Marshal and Leader, the advisors in the military tent advised.
"The war isn’t over yet; we can’t let these people mess around. In any case, we should impose martial law first! Also, delay the return of overseas laborers."
He paused, then added.
"Moreover, if they publish, we also publish to clarify!"
This was a stopgap measure.
Since they’d already been shot, they had to bandage the wound first before doing anything else.
However, unfortunately, this young advisor failed to realize that once they did this, they would fall into a spiral of rumors and clarifications... not to mention their own shady past.
Even if the dam explosion was a charge team’s secret known only to the top brass like Shava, seeing Laxi’s reaction, all the officers pretty much figured it out.
Even if the truth on the paper was diluted, among ten lies, one statement must still be true.
The most efficient method would be to handle it quietly, to muzzle those minor troublemakers first, then release an even more sensational news item to divert attention, and after everyone had forgotten the initial conflict, gradually shape the correct memory.
For instance, Laxi’s original intent was to protect the dam from being bombed by stray shells, but the soldier executed the wrong order. Or perhaps the soldier executed no wrong order because no one gave it; that dam, neglected for years, was shattered by Baumet’s 100-mm artillery... After all, the engineering quality of the Western Empire was as unreliable as the Empire itself, only to be admired from afar, not to be trifled with.
But some things are just beyond understanding.
Those buried in the red soil can only serve as nutrients for later generations to absorb the essence of the red soil.
Laxi gritted his teeth and nodded, finally issuing the order.
"Martial law!"
In fact, until now, none of those in the military tent thought this was any major issue; they merely mourned for the pillars of the future who died in the conflict.
They spent quite a sum to cultivate those children.
Even Laxi himself regarded those troublemakers as similar to the elders of the Moon Clan Resistance Army, since all along, those clownish characters had been the ones opposing him.
Yet, he forgot that those clowns did not even dare to resist.
This time, those who opposed him dared to bleed.
Watching Laxi silently gaze at the frontline map, the officers around the command table exchanged looks and began whispering.
"Could it be Absek’s doing?"
"Isn’t Shava in the Great Rift Valley? Let him ask then."
"Heh... would he tell you the truth?"
"If they really instigated it, I’m afraid they’re about to attack! We must be cautious!"
Elsewhere, in Central Sheep State, on the forefront of the standoff between the Northern Field Army of Poluo Country and the Southern Legion, Yishel gazed through binoculars at the enemy’s position, his thoughts wandering.
He remembered when he was still moving boxes at the Southern Legion’s docks, now he had become the gravedigger of the Southern Legion.
Truly, the world is impermanent.
At this moment, an officer approached him from behind, reporting.
"Laxi’s forces are gathering behind us."
Brushing off those fleeting, whimsical thoughts, Yishel put down the binoculars and sighed.
"Have they taken further action?"
The officer shook his head.
"No."
After pondering for a long time, Yishel ordered.
"Have Yakale take his Eleventh Ten Thousand Troop... to replace my position, and be sure not to act rashly! Prioritize defense."
He paused and then added.
"Also, inform the 3rd Ten Thousand Troop brothers to come with me to see what Laxi is up to!"
Initially, he planned to have Yakale guard against Laxi, but considering Yakale’s tempestuous, impulsive nature, he abandoned the idea.
Don’t let the other side not want to fight at first, and end up starting a fire here by accident.
Another thing, if it really comes to a fight, that reckless Yakale is not a match for Laxi.
It’s not boasting.
In the whole of Poluo Country, it is feared that only his bounty can compete with Laxi.
This is recognition from the enemy.
At the same time, at the forefront of the standoff.
Ross, who has been promoted from a Thousands of leaders to a Ten Thousand Leader, also stood guard at the observation post, meticulously staring at the position opposite.
After a few rounds of confrontation, he could basically confirm that standing in front of him was the "Jungle Rat" with a bounty approaching ten million Dinar, Poluo Country’s top strategist!
Thinking of this, the corner of Ross’s mouth couldn’t help but lift in a hint of self-mockery.
When he first set foot on West Sail Port, seeing those who would rather dig a hole to bury themselves than resist, facing their compatriots with fierce bluster but cowardice, his heart was filled with disdain and anger.
At that time, he never would have thought that this embarrassing group of little mice would fight stronger and stronger, even producing several talents that even a professionally trained officer like himself would find tricky to handle...
Thinking back carefully, he actually had seen that Yishel, separated by no more than a dozen steps.
He couldn’t help but half-jokingly think, if he had fired a shot then, perhaps history would have changed...
But that’s only something he could think of jokingly.
Even without the "Jungle Rat," there would be a "Jungle Snake" or "Jungle Bird," and even more troublesome "Jungle Cat," "Jungle Tiger."
By now, he couldn’t think of how to help the Southern Legion regain a victory, only wanting to have a good fight to offer his last loyalty to Marshal Julius.
Yet for some unexplained reason, the previously aggressive side opposite suddenly appeared deflated.
What are they waiting for?
Ross frowned, his thoughts as messy as a tangle of knotted twine.
Just then, his adjutant entered the observation post, looking solemn as he handed him a confidential telegram.
Ross took the telegram, glanced over it hurriedly, his expression turning incredulous.
[Seventeenth ten thousand troops, receive orders: Poluo Country’s Third ten thousand troops will switch duties with the Eleventh ten thousand troops at 12:00 today. At that time, someone holding the Eleventh ten thousand troops’ banner will ascend the hill, the entire army must not open fire, and immediately surrender to this person! The Eastern Empire’s Emperor promises to keep everyone safe home.]
[——Northern Line Commander, Olet Ten Thousand Leader]
His lips trembled, taking a deep breath, his eyes bloodshot, wishing to tear the telegram into shreds.
Traitor!
Despicable dogs!
They hid in caves eating bugs to expand territories for the Legion, and this is what they get!
His hand clenched the telegram paper, noticing then his adjutant in front of him, his eyes just as blood red.
Seeing the hand placed on the sidearm, Ross understood everything in an instant.
Not everyone wants to shed their last drop of blood for the Legion...
They have charged with him again and again, but now they really can’t charge anymore.
The Legion is finished.
"...Do you all want to go home?"
The adjutant didn’t speak, just looked at him with red eyes, then nodded.
"The soldiers all want to go home... their families are at Evernight Harbor, your wife is there too, right."
Ross took a deep breath, sat in the chair, and gently placed the telegram aside.
He did think of Dimi, thought of his children... and it was also what he had always been reluctant to think about because once he thought of these things, he would remember that he is a person, not a beast.
Once the box of memories is opened, many things came flooding back in an instant.
Including the promises he made to his wife and kids before leaving—
He went to the Poluo Province to protect the Weilante people, and he would return home covered in glory.
Though most of those promises cannot be fulfilled, at least there’s one thing he can fulfill...
"I understand... I will take you all home."
Looking at the nodding superior, the adjutant stood at attention with red eyes and saluted.
"Thank you..."
Ross weakly smiled and looked at the green mountains outside the observation post.
It’s over...
"Don’t thank me, it’s what I owe you."
At the same time he let go of all obsessions, the positions of Poluo Country’s Northern Field Army were undergoing a tense handover.
To prevent Laxi from betraying, Yishel handed the front line to Yakale and personally led the army to the west of Tasang River to monitor the Mammoth Nation’s military movements.
Due to the tense atmosphere between the two sides, the ferry terminals in the Tasang River Basin were forced to close, and the narrow muddy roads were crowded with migrating horse carriages and ox carts.
Among them, several cars were mixed.
And as luck would have it, Niyan, who was heading to the frontline, was stuck in one of those cars...
On the other side, Yakale, who took over the defense sector, was eager to make a big move, but suddenly a cold splash of water doused his head.
It was a classified telegram from the Family Meeting—
[The Southern Legion’s northern battleline in the Poluo war zone has surrendered, after your unit completes the transfer and deployment with the Third ten thousand troops, carry the banner up the mountain and accept the Southern Legion’s remaining troops’ surrender, make sure not to start any accidental fire, and make sure not to harm any prisoners!]
[——Gray Wolf Army’s Chief Commander, Gopal]
"We’ve won just like this?"
Clutching the telegram tightly, Yakale’s eyes also turned red.
Those damned Weilante people came to their land for a killing spree, and after he painstakingly gathered dozens of field cannons and hadn’t fought enough yet, these people said they wouldn’t fight anymore, really absurd!
After fuming for a while, being a person who considers the bigger picture, he eventually swallowed his frustration.
The officer delivering the telegram also breathed a sigh of relief.
In his hand, there was actually a second "classified telegram," a message conveyed by Sava, the second in command of the Family Meeting.
If Yakale did not consider the bigger picture, he could fire the first shot for the safety of thousands of Poluo Country civilians!
At the same time, outside the cave in Snake State, Zayed, wearing boots, lit up a Rick Five he hadn’t been willing to smoke for a long time, spiritedly looking at the clouds overhead.
Today’s sun was exceptionally bright, and the clouds were as white as snow.
Because just now, he had made the final move, capturing two kings with one move.
"This Laxi compares himself to the Great Moon King, but I see him like a crazy donkey, hehe."
He suddenly thought of an old acquaintance, that girl so naive like she was soaked in a jar of honey.
That guy won too easily, actually thinking victory was only natural.
Standing beside him, Gopal chuckled.
"Of course, who can compare with you."
The great revenge is achieved!
Gopal felt immense satisfaction, suddenly finding those squeaking little mice not as annoying.
Those Poluo people had once ruthlessly abandoned them, drowned them in swimming rivers, and stamped them into garbage heaps, but finally, obediently, they returned at their side.
Their bodies are behaving quite honestly, eh.
Considering he’s now the "Wolf King," he might as well not kill them!
As if seeing through Gopal’s thoughts, Zayed laughed and patted him on the shoulder.
"Hey, we can’t be soft-hearted, don’t drop the ball at the last minute. Kill when you need to, when it’s time to kill, do it. Better to overkill than underkill... Keep the operation code name in mind, just call it Massacre, alright!"
Putting away the last trace of soft-hearted kindness, Gopal smiled with great confidence.
"As you command!"
He could not understand that heavy epic before, but now he finally understood why the thirteen kings were never a match for the Great Moon King, despite being strong and powerful, they were defeated and routed, and why in the end, the Great Moon King lost to the not-so-clever West Winds.
But it doesn’t matter.
They will replace the short-lived Witch Todd to fix the overlooked loophole that Lowell hadn’t considered...
Inside the cave behind them, the young Sava stood on stage with a face full of sorrow, facing furious expressions, mourning the family lost under Laxi’s gunfire.
"...We deeply mourn the family lost in the fight against evil forces. We will never give up fighting for the arrival of the new era!"
"They will not die in vain!"
The memories of the second massacre at West Sail Port surfaced again in everyone’s minds, and this time, the killers had turned from the Weilante people to some arrogant "Moon King."
The threat of life and death was imminent, and now there was no choice but to fight.
Not just the Poluo people recalled the painful memories, but also the Weilante people at West Sail Port.
Poluo Country’s 800,000 Curry Army had moved north, and the "Iron General" Grov, whose reputation had soared like a tiger, chased the fleeing Gibson, causing him to flee in panic.
This guy had suffered a defeat at the hands of the Alliance before, and now had lost to the Poluo people, disgracing the Weilante people thoroughly.
However, he wasn’t being wronged, especially when he saw those Conqueror tanks racing across the wilds, he was so furious he almost bled from seven orifices, wishing he could round up all the logistics department’s personnel and execute them one by one!
In any case, a loss is a loss.
Aki Bar and his slaves’ panic is of no importance, the Chief of the Grand Canyon didn’t even send him an invitation.
Even though he is nominally a king of tens of millions, in the eyes of the Grand Canyon, he can’t even match the clown of Dam City.
Facing the unstoppable tragic news drifting from the front lines, all the Weilante people in West Sail Port panicked, wishing desperately to jump into the sea and swim away from this "Port of Death"!
No one could guarantee that this Absec wouldn’t act like his old employer Anush and allow this 800,000 strong army to massacre the entire city.
And just at their moment of great terror, the Eastern Empire suddenly extended an olive branch to them.
Instead of waiting to die at West Sail Port, why not get on the Eastern Empire’s ship and head to New West Port...
The Eastern Empire had no fleet, but the New Federation of the New Continent did, and in great numbers.
In view of kinship and a huge sum of money, the Federal Fleet that had just gone to Whirlpool Sea to extinguish a fire now made a turn towards Poluo Sea, bringing willing people to their new homeland prepared by the Eastern Empire...
...
Meanwhile, at the southwestern corner of the Xoerbar Mountain Range, on a barren land lay a young but hopeful harbor.
People carrying large bags stood on the streets, receiving their tents with the assistance of Eastern Empire soldiers.
This is the "Weilante Province experience."
The series of settlement measures introduced by the Leader to cope with the Mortal Serum had evidently been learned by the Eastern Empire.
If only Marshal Julius were still alive, he would be gratified by this scene and might even change his opinion of Lowell.
The Weilante people, who have been unchanged in thought for a century, have regained the ability to learn, thanks to the survivors from Poluo Province.
If this is seen as a big chess game, then Lowell must have predicted that the War Construction Committee would provoke the Weilante people, and deliberately created the red soil to save the unborn Weilante people!
That image suddenly became even more glorious.
Standing on the bare docks, Ten Thousand Leader Olet, looking fatigued, was carrying his luggage.
When sending secret communications to the front line, he had already gotten on the Eastern Empire’s ship at the northwest corner of the war zone, carrying classified documents from the northern front to the harbor prepared by the Eastern Empire to receive the spoils of war.
Thinking carefully, this may be the reason Sarun never sent troops to help them.
That guy had long coveted their wealth.
Just as they had lusted after the treasures of the Civil Official Group...
Looking at General McLlen standing on the harbor, Ten Thousand Leader Olet, who understood everything, smirked wearily.
"...Our Teil’s agency did its best, but didn’t expect to end up making you a wedding dress."
Watching this guy who had exuded great confidence in front of him before, McLlen, smoking a cigar, chuckled.
"Heh, looking down on weak opponents, yet unable to accept defeat when facing someone stronger?"
Didn’t you seek to engage masters yourself?
However, McLlen didn’t mock him.
Frankly speaking, from a commander’s perspective, he was only about sixty-percent sure of his own judgment.
The Southern Legion did not have no chance of winning, and the Alliance was not guaranteed to win.
If Grov was replaced with Griffin, who had experienced the Alliance’s tactics, the Southern Legion’s victory could reach at least sixty percent.
But how could a dead man rise from his coffin?
The deaths of General Kras and General Griffin made him realize deeply that the Army was destined not to learn from failures, nor could they possibly move from one defeat to victory.
They could march triumphantly from victory to final triumph, or fail disastrously repeatedly.
From this perspective, the collapse of the Army was indeed a fateful event.
They could win many times, but losing once meant they would never recover...
Seeing the half-smiling McLlen, Olet shook his head.
"That’s not what I meant... I just occasionally wonder if we could win against the Alliance if we united."
General McLlen calmly said.
"If the sun turned from one to two, could it save the Wasteland? Why do you consider the impossible?"
Olet was stunned for a moment and bitterly smiled.
"That’s also true..."
After pausing for a long time, he couldn’t help but speak again.
"By the way, about my affair..."
McLlen, knowing what he wanted to say, said succinctly.
"Rest assured, His Majesty Sarun is a man of his word, he promised to spare your life and he will, that’s one reason he’s a winner."
Hearing the sarcasm in his tone, Olet bitterly said.
"I see...It seems like we indeed didn’t lose unfairly."
After a moment of silence, he suddenly worried about his old leader, so he couldn’t help but ask.
"...What about Grov?"
"You are already standing here, why ask such a foolish question?" McLlen, smoking a cigar, smiled mysteriously at him, "Do you think everyone can make it ashore?"
"That’s true..." Olet swallowed hard, swallowing back that gulp of saliva.
McLlen patted the shoulder of this officer.
"We gave him the chance to choose, he can sit in his office and think instead of being stuck in a bunker having a stroke... Be grateful."
...
At the Great Rift Valley, the doors of a certain conference room were tightly shut. The Imperial Guards of Triumph City and the Guards of Dawn City stood on either side.
The power armor they wore differed greatly in model and color scheme but shared the same majesty and sternness.
Seated inside the conference room were two leaders, whose identities needed no mention.
Almost anyone walking past the conference room doors could smell the tension wafting through the gaps.
In the nearby corridor, two leaders from the Survivor Settlement of the Province of Yúnjiānxíng were intentionally or unintentionally glancing toward the door.
In Yúnjiānxíng Province, the two were considered powerful figures, yet here amidst the gathered elites, they seemed like ants.
The world was vast.
It’s not just the great dragon of Ideal City waking, but also the Alliance, the Dragon Knight.
Though such thoughts may seem somewhat disrespectful, the matter is truly exaggerated.
Three years ago, the Waste Land Wanderers of the Province of Yúnjiānxíng were all relying on Ideal City.
Now, thanks to the Alliance’s emergence, their business map has expanded across the entire Wasteland.
The light from the sparks igniting the prairie fire has gradually overshadowed the lighthouse, fulfilling the great ideals of the descendants of the Endeavour Colonization Ship and Shelter No. 6.
Of course, such grand narratives are far too distant for the two standing here.
They just want to see what gossip might come from that door to analyze which stocks will rise between the Ideal City Stock Exchange and the Dawn City Stock Exchange.
A very shallow thought, isn’t it?
But nonetheless extremely practical.
The living standards of Ideal City Residents are closely tied to the stock prices of various large corporate groups, while the survivors of the Province of Yúnjiānxíng have most of their wealth invested in these groups’ stocks.
Unfortunately, the Grand Canyon ensures extreme privacy for its participants, and no known technical means can penetrate that door to obtain information inside.
Coupled with a guarantee from Holy Shield on security, it can be considered the safest place in the entire Wasteland.
Even safer than the shelter.
The slightly taller man seemed impatient, looking at the man with glasses beside him.
This person was both his business partner and strategic ally in regional affairs.
"What do you think they’ll discuss?"
The bespectacled man focused intently on the entrance, not even wanting to interrupt.
"I don’t know, but we’ll soon know."
The tall man was stunned.
"Soon?"
Would there be a press conference right after this talk?
The man with glasses cast a glance at this ignorant fellow, smiling lightly.
"Expressions, movements, postures, demeanor, even the order in which they leave... all these are information. People are ultimately human and can’t be flawless like androids."
He had already activated the Behavior Analysis System in his AR glasses.
By the way, both the hardware and software of this system were purchased from Ideal City.
The tall man admiringly raised his thumb, sighing in self-despair.
"You’re too professional!"
The tightly closed conference room door aroused everyone’s heartbeat, making it far more worthwhile than the trivial matters in Dam City.
Whether the fists from the east and west come together or not almost determines the fate of the entire Central Continent.
It was at this moment that the tightly shut door suddenly burst open.
Seeing the two big shots emerge from behind the door engaging in cheerful conversation, nearly everyone observing from here simultaneously sighed in relief.
Some sighed.
But none of that mattered anymore.
The Leader of the Weilante People and the Alliance Managers had a pleasant conversation, reaching an agreement between Triumph City and City of Dawn on ending the Wasteland Era!
This was a tremendously good omen.
The man with glasses excitedly clenched his fists, having already envisioned the headline that might appear on tomorrow’s newspaper!
Just at this moment, looking at the blue and gold power armors, he was once again stunned.
According to the gait analysis software, the relationship between the two was labeled as "Father and Son."
"What the hell..."
Annoyed, he took off the glasses, poking the reboot button, attempting to restart but unable to as if struck by an Electromagnetic Pulse.
Nevertheless, the result was good.
This planet, barely holding onto its last breath, couldn’t support a second war...
Elsewhere, following closely behind Shava, the commander of the Mammoth Country Charge Team, Mayor Otto of Free State concluded his meeting with the Chief of the Great Rift Valley, emerging from the room with a complex expression.
His expression seemed neither entirely dejected nor upset, yet carried a hint of relief.
The chief claimed to have been observing him from before Firestone Group’s inception, absorbing his joys and worries, thoroughly understanding them.
It sounded somewhat terrifying.
Yet on second thought, since Firestone Group was already monitoring them and their privacy had long become riddled like a sieve, Otto suddenly felt it wasn’t so dreadful.
At least the Great Rift Valley hadn’t harmed them.
It was so before and remained so.
The old man even unprecedentedly didn’t count his sheep, instead revealing the bottom line.
"... You all have a bright future, whether in the Southern River Province or Northern River Province."
"The Weilante and Poluo people are two sides of a coin, both enemies and salvation for each other, and now this coin is soon to land. Once the dust settles, everything will end regardless of whether the final outcome satisfies everyone."
"And you are much luckier than them because the young man holding the coin didn’t throw you to heaven, instead granting you enough time to gradually wake from a nightmare lasting two hundred years, realizing the nightmare’s essence wasn’t an old guy like me nor money, nor the power behind money but yourselves — your own hearts."
"So don’t ask me what to do; ask yourselves. Was Sigma, who you fear, dropped from heaven? This child did not inherit anything from anyone’s hand, coming instead from the slums you, dressed in suits, despise the most. Do you think without him everyone can have good days? All right then? If you really think that, no one can save you."
"This isn’t a riddle."
"But celebrate, for you are unlikely to meet an outcome worse than Giant Stone City, albeit how good the result is will depend on your own efforts."
Returning to the room, Otto tossed and turned all night, thinking of the previous mayor’s fate and Condra, who sat in the interrogation room, claiming to plant seeds of fear in his heart before unknowingly falling asleep, startled awake by nightmares.
Watching the rising dawn outside the window, an epiphany slowly emerged within him, and he decisively resolved.
"... The nightmare resides in the heart of every Bugra. The only way to wake from the nightmare is to lock it in a cage, preventing anyone from claiming it for themselves."
In that sense, as Bugra’s mayor, the only thing he could do was...
Stand together with all the Bugra People fed up with polluted air, like Giant Stone City.
Thinking of the smirking old man conjured a sense of gratitude within him.
They are free—
And have always been!
The honorable Chief gave them the opportunity to change destiny into their own hands!
In two hours will be the moment determining the Wasteland Era’s fate!
Soon, the inaugural "Human Conference" will open amidst great anticipation!
Fortunately, he understood this in time.
Even if just two hours before passing through the level...
...
At the same time, a steel airship slowly descended at the Grand Canyon’s helipad.
People standing around the helipad tensed up, watching the man emerge from the cabin.
He donned a pure gold armor, unlike the set of the Triumph City’s Leader, it had no power components from head to toe.
In other words, the Emperor of the Eastern Empire entirely leaned on his muscles to bear almost a ton of armor!
Merrily walking off the helipad, this guy proved to be truly formidable!
Looking at Chu Guang in blue power armor, Salen wore a bright smile, exaggeratedly spreading his arms wide.
"Haha! Long time no see, dear Alliance Manager!"
"We finally meet in reality!"