City of Abundance

Legend held that in the distant Era of Prosperity, the land illuminated by the sunset's glow had once been the most fertile place on the continent. Here, vegetation once flourished, forests blanketed rolling hills, and endless farmlands stretched as far as the eye could see. Servants of metal toiled ceaselessly in the fields, freeing people from labor to indulge all day in the lavish prosperity of a golden age; everything was provided from birth, boundless and inexhaustible. A single agricultural district in Sunset Province alone was enough to feed ninety percent of the planet's population. To this day, even though the glory of the past was covered in dust, the afterglow of sunset still shone upon this land, warming the survivors eking out an existence amidst the ruins. This remained one of the happiest places on the wasteland. As long as one did not venture into the desert, there was no need to worry about mutant beasts; every inch of arable land was sheltered by the armies of the various kingdoms and the "River Embankment." Abundant, plentiful food spared the children of the Spirit of the Desert from ever knowing the pangs of hunger. Though feudal, it was united enough, unlike the fractured eastern provinces where a band of marauders could whip up a bloody tempest at will, and children barely out of swaddling had to learn not only how to walk but also how to shoot a gun just to survive. Time had proven that in the grueling years following the apocalypse, believing in something together was far better than believing in nothing at all. However— In the eyes of William Falcon, prince and marshal of the Falcon Kingdom, this was far from enough. While the individual kingdoms were internally united by faith, between them there was no trust whatsoever. The Spirit of the Desert had taught the kings that brothers should stand united, lending a helping hand in times of hardship. In reality, the monarchs harbored constant suspicion toward one another, forever vigilant against rivals exploiting bloodlines to usurp their titles. They reveled in the authority bestowed by faith while detesting the duties that came with it. If only the Spirit of the Desert had bestowed its grace equally upon every kingdom in the desert, perhaps it would have been bearable. Yet it had done no such thing—and even the calamities it visited upon them were far from equal. The first to vanish was Oasis 1, where the yellow sands swallowed everything whole. Next came Oasis 2. The Falcon Kingdom's fertile lands were shrinking at a pace visible to the naked eye; in just half a century, it had lost more than twenty percent of its territory. The selfish kings refused to offer aid to the Falcon royal house, nor did the deity answer their prayers. Instead, disaster struck without reprieve. Left with no other recourse, they could only turn to outside powers for help... even if that meant the devils from the west. Yet it was also thanks to the selfishness and cowardice of the kings that the war had progressed smoother than ever before. Faced with the Falcon Kingdom's lightning offensive, the squabbling kings were utterly powerless to resist, failing to mount any effective defense even now. Once the Lion Kingdom—the most formidable of them all—was crushed, he would immediately march north and seize the Golden Lizard Kingdom. At that point, of all Sunset Province, only the Falcon Kingdom and the southernmost Camel Hump Kingdom would remain. With the situation beyond salvage, they would have no choice left but submission. When that day came, this land sheltered by the sunset glow would achieve unprecedented unity. Since early childhood, William had nurtured this dream. He dreamed that one day he would unify this desert, and with supreme dominion, restore its past glory. Turning the desert into an oasis sounded fantastic and absurd, but he believed there was always a way. Even if it could not be done now, someone in the future surely would. After all, the Spirit of the Desert had once declared that this land was originally a world covered in yellow sand. As for the latter half of the saying believers frequently repeated—"The world shall ultimately be swallowed by yellow sands, returning to the embrace of the Spirit of the Desert"— that was nothing more than the interpretation of despairing quitters. In contrast, he preferred to interpret the deity's teachings as: "One day, this land will return to its finest era," and "The oasis is a gift offered by mankind to the divine, not a boon granted by the divine to man." Since it was made by human hands, there had to be a way to remake it. And what he had to do now was crush the decadent kings with thunderous resolve! Become the master of this desert! "...Operation Thunder is canceled. That's General Griffin's order, and he sent me to convey it to you." Inside the command tent, William had been studying the strategic map when he received this dire news from the Legion officer who had just walked in. His eyes widened slightly. After a brief silence, he kept his voice low. "I need an explanation." Five myriads—over seventy thousand kingdom soldiers—had already completed their encirclement on three sides of the City of Abundance. It was the granary of Oasis No. 9 and a critical strategic bastion in the heart of the Lion Kingdom. A colossal barrier known as the "River Embankment" encircled a circular territory roughly ten kilometers in radius. Cast entirely of alloy, this towering embankment irrigated over a thousand square kilometers of fertile land inside and out. No one understood how it operated, only that it held an inexhaustible supply of freshwater and could purify contaminated water. Blessed by the Spirit of the Desert, ordinary weapons could not leave a single scratch upon it. Consequently, the Lion Kingdom had stationed vast quantities of weaponry along the circular River Embankment and garrisoned it heavily, turning it into an impregnable fortress that formed a mutual defensive horn with the royal capital over a hundred kilometers away. On the other hand, once this place fell, the armies of the Falcon Kingdom could drive straight east all the way to the capital without encountering a single natural obstacle along the way! Operation Thunder had been formulated precisely to capture this stronghold. To that end, they had prepared for a full month, repositioning forces and drawing up assault blueprints. Yet... General Griffin, the man who had drafted the plan, was calling it off with a single sentence? What kind of joke was this! Soon, however, the officer's next words sent William's heart plummeting into an abyss. "Camp No. 530 was attacked. The tanks, rifles, ammunition, shells, and supplies intended for the front lines have all fallen into the hands of the guerrillas. It's enough to arm a myriad and sustain them off the supply line for two full months. "Our aircraft are searching for them, but they're cunning and slipped into the hills in northeastern Oasis No. 9." The desert was not purely an endless expanse of flat plains; beyond undulating sand dunes, near the central border with River Valley Province lay desertified hills and valleys. "Camp No. 530?! How could that be... weren't your elites stationed there?!" William asked urgently. The officer nodded, replying crisply. "Yes, but elite or not, there was only a single millenary. As things stand, it appears Enterprise operatives launched a surprise assault on our base, going so far as to deploy electromagnetic pulse weaponry." The Enterprise... William knitted his brows. Anxious though he was to take the City of Abundance, that did not mean he was reckless. In fact, it was through cautious, meticulous decisions that he had sustained an unbroken string of victories, conquering the entirety of the Honey Badger Kingdom in a single week. If the battle plan had leaked and Enterprise forces, alongside guerrillas armed with Legion weapons, were operating to the north of Oasis No. 9, rushing into a full-scale offensive would indeed be a terrible idea. "...I remember a marauder tribe called the Bear Clan operates around there? Is there any way to buy them off?" The officer shook his head. "We tried, but the Alliance scared the wits out of them. The few remnants are just hiding in the mountains acting like bandits... I doubt they even have any fight left in them." Ever since Dillon fell in battle, the centurions and decurions under him had become outright deserters. While a handful were still willing to rejoin the Legion, so few men could change nothing. Gravity settled over William's face. After pondering for a moment, he said, "This war must be ended swiftly. If it drags on too long, unexpected variables may arise." "Of course, and Lord Griffin agrees," the officer said, catching the prince's expression with a faint smirk. "...Which is why we promptly prepared an alternative offensive plan. Unlike Operation Thunder, we intend to employ some unconventional means this time." William's brow furrowed tightly. He sensed something chillingly amiss in the officer's tone. "Unconventional means?" Without answering, the officer handed him a slip of paper and joked in a teasing tone, "Burn it after reading. We can't afford another leak this time." William cast him a suspicious glance, took the paper, and unfolded it. Upon reading the words on it, William froze, his expression instantly shifting. He glared at the officer, staring directly into those indifferent eyes. "I oppose this plan! We need an intact City of Abundance, not a rotting ruin!" The officer shrugged impassively. "Sacrificing a single 'farm' in exchange for an entire oasis is, in our view, entirely worthwhile. If we delay another month to formulate a new plan and redeploy our forces, we could face many times more enemies than we do now. "Moreover, this is the opinion of the commander of the Eastern Legion. "We do not want this war to escalate from a local skirmish into a full-scale war between the Legion and the Enterprise; neither we nor they are ready for that. Before the Enterprise raises its stakes here, crushing our enemy's defensive lines and will to resist with thunderous force is the option that incurs the lowest cost." Listening to that merciless voice, William glared fiercely at him. "You have no idea what that means! Destroying the miracle of the Spirit of the Desert is blasphemy against the gods!" Yet the officer merely gave a faint smile. "Blasphemy? You people still care about that?" Looking at the prince's ashen face, the officer continued in a leisurely drawl, "The weapon will take a little time to arrive. You'd best prepare yourselves as well." As for the objection, he acted as though he had never heard it. With those parting words, the officer turned and strode away. Beside William, a kingdom general swallowed nervously and whispered, "Your Highness... what does the Legion intend to do?" William fell silent for a long time, clearly wrestling with inner turmoil. Yet it lasted only a heartbeat. He was not an indecisive man. Those who accomplished great things could not afford petty qualms. So long as they triumphed in the end, Sunset Province would welcome everlasting peace. No one could call him wrong. Besides, even if he felt it inappropriate, he had no power to stop the Legion's decision. Holding the slip of paper toward the oil lamp on the desk, William watched a tongue of flame crawl up the sheet, gradually consuming it and crumpling it into ashes that drifted down into a brass dish. "They intend to unleash a devil from two hundred years ago and defile the divine grace... Heh, but he has a point. We've already sold our souls to devils in exchange for power—why pretend to care about that now?" With that quiet bit of self-mockery, William left the bewildered general behind and walked out of the tent alone. His impassive face gave no hint of his true thoughts. A nuclear bomb. A cheap and remarkably effective device. Supposedly, with a mere press of a button, it could wipe hundreds of thousands or even millions of people off the map, transforming fertile land into an uninhabitable wasteland. What divine calamities took half a century to accomplish, it could achieve in the blink of an eye. It wasn't particularly sophisticated technology, but it was undeniably effective. "Mount up." Arriving at the stables, William clapped the shoulder of a guard beside him, walked over to his tall, powerful steed, and swung himself onto the saddle. Not all people of the desert preferred camels. Black horses native to the Great Waste were the true beloved mounts of the Falcon Kingdom's people. They were as formidable as mutants; clad in heavy armor, they could charge through hails of gunfire and artillery without the slightest fear of the thunderous blasts, let alone death itself. "Where are we headed, Your Highness?" asked the bearded guard captain, reining in his horse to keep pace beside William. William narrowed his eyes and glanced eastward. "To the front lines!" Doubt showed on the guard captain's face as he cautioned, "It's too dangerous there. Prince Winter's troops shell our lines every now and then. I wouldn't advise going somewhere so hazardous." William chuckled, spurred his mount, and let it break into a gallop. "There's no danger! Those turtles hiding in their shells only have a few good days left. Soon enough, we'll be trampling over their corpses." Before that magnificent citadel was reduced to a lump of twisted steel, he wanted to ride his beloved steed to catch one last glimpse of it. ... At the same time, in the City of Abundance of Oasis No. 9, inside and outside the towering circular River Embankment, stretched fields rippling with pale gold. Harvest season was approaching. None could say whether it would be the scythes of farmers or the tracks of tanks that reaped them first. Aloft on the embankment, binoculars in hand, Prince Winter gazed toward the west, deep wrinkles etching gravity into his weathered face. The fortress beneath his feet was both the granary of the Lion Kingdom and the very front line of the war. The majestic River Embankment was a natural redoubt; forged entirely of alloy, it was practically impervious to conventional weaponry. The garrison stationed here was none other than the kingdom's elite—the "Scarab" Myriad! Coupled with two myriads comprising over twenty-two thousand conscripts, the garrison here exceeded thirty thousand men, with tens of thousands more farmers currently undergoing training. Over a thousand 97mm smoothbore guns had been rolled out atop the River Embankment, complemented by nearly a hundred 230mm cast-iron mortars. One could not underestimate these relics. Though limited in range, operating from indestructible bunkers allowed them to work miracles. In sufficient numbers, firing shells packed with high explosives, they posed a formidable threat to any attacking force. To say nothing of the vast stockpile of gas cylinder rockets they had prepared. In addition to these vintage pieces, the Lion Kingdom had procured a number of 100mm howitzers, assigning thirty of them to Prince Winter. These modern light artillery pieces boasted a range of twenty kilometers, but ammunition was scarce, making their deterrent value greater than their practical utility. Even so, the garrison stationed here felt no dread toward the armies outside, standing ready with high morale and resolute discipline. No matter how formidable the Legion's tanks were, they couldn't scale the alloy ramparts of the River Embankment. With ample supplies stockpiled in the City of Abundance, they could hold this ground until the next century! As long as the City of Abundance stood, the capital stood, and the kingdom lived on! Like a stubborn iron nail, it was hammered right into the path of the Falcon Kingdom's advance; anyone attempting to pry it loose was destined to walk away with bloody hands. Every last soul was prepared to live and die with this fortress. "...Falcon Kingdom forces are digging trenches within five kilometers of our position." Handing his binoculars to an adjutant beside him, Prince Winter turned impassively toward a runner. "Order the First Artillery Squadron to prepare. Let's give our enemies a taste of our fire!" "Yes, sir!" The runner snapped to attention, saluted, and jogged over to the nearby radio. Once the bombardment coordinates were transmitted, over a dozen booming detonations cracked through the air. Trails of white smoke traced parabolas across the sky before slamming into the enemy lines, bursting into plumes of dust and smoke. The range of the 230mm cast-iron mortars was comparable to that of light mortars, but their destructive yield was far greater, quickly tearing through the trench-diggers and sending men flying. Yet gazing upon the heavily mauled combat engineers, Prince Winter's brow furrowed. The adjutant beside him noticed the anomaly as well. Shock surfaced in his eyes, and he gritted his teeth. "My Lord... those engineers digging the trenches seem to be our—" "They are enemies," Winter cut him off without hesitation, his expression cold as stone. "Keep firing!" The adjutant nodded silently, raised his binoculars again, and peered back toward the enemy positions. Hatred and fury burned in his eyes. Those shameless bastards... Using prisoners of war as cannon fodder! Such contemptible methods were not only a desecration of ancient covenants, but a brazen betrayal of their faith! He swore he would make them pay for this! Turning away from the front line, Prince Winter took an elevator back down into the fortress interior. Just then, a runner came jogging up, halted before him, and snapped a crisp salute. "Report! Urgent dispatch from the palace!" Taking the letter from the runner, Winter opened it and scanned the contents. His tight brow finally relaxed. Noticing the change in his countenance, the staff officer beside him couldn't help asking, "Good news?" The only piece of good news in the past month had been that their allies were finally preparing to send troops—even if it was rumored to be only half a millenary... Winter nodded, passing the letter to the staff officer. His tone carried a rare note of relief and cheer. "Our allies successfully wiped out the Legion's supply hub in the north. The Legion's 'Thunder' plan has been foiled. Our northern flank should be safe for a while, allowing us to focus entirely on the pests outside." One had to admit, the Alliance's intelligence network was frighteningly powerful. Winter had only just learned the operation's codename, yet thousands of kilometers away, the Alliance had already strangled the massive, meticulous plan in its cradle. Every indication showed that the Alliance's penetration into the desert had reached a level impossible to ignore, whereas the Lion Kingdom knew almost nothing about them. At the thought, amidst his wariness, Winter secretly resolved that if the Lion Kingdom weathered this crisis, he would convince His Majesty the King to expand the intelligence budget. Or... he could take on the task himself. "Fifty Conqueror tanks... along with self-propelled guns, trucks, and enough supplies to arm an entire myriad. To think they actually brought down a military base of that caliber!" The staff officer's face showed sheer awe. Suddenly struck by a thought, he looked eagerly at Prince Winter and asked, "What about that equipment?" Prince Winter chuckled softly. "Most likely handed over to the Restoration Army led by Ade... Forget it. They won't give it to us." A look of regret crossed the staff officer's face. Equipment enough for an entire myriad... "If only we had dispatched troops there at the time." "Dispatch who?" Prince Winter didn't feel much regret. "We're struggling just to defend ourselves. Where would we find spare troops to march north?" At that, the staff officer fell silent for a moment before sighing. "You have a point, sir... Let's hope news comes from Andre soon." "I wouldn't hold my breath," Prince Winter replied casually, harboring zero expectations. If the Golden Lizard Kingdom truly intended to deploy troops, they would have sent them when they issued their declaration of war, rather than sitting idly on their borders like they were doing now. Faith in the Spirit of the Desert had never been weaker in this land. Vows sworn before the Spirit of the Desert were like water poured onto sand—evaporating into nothingness. Perhaps... those relics of tradition were truly obsolete. Regardless of how this war drew to a close, they were about to enter an era of ruthless deceit and intrigue... Just then, another runner came sprinting from the distance. Clutched in his hand was an urgent dispatch—the second one received that very day. "Another one?" With two urgent dispatches arriving in such quick succession, an ominous foreboding crept into Winter's heart. He had already read the good news. By all logic, the odds of a second letter also bearing good news were dismally low... Still, what was meant to come could not be avoided. In the end, he broke the seal. Inside was just a single line of text, yet it drained all color from his face: [A nuclear warhead with a yield of one megaton is being transported across the Great Waste toward the Falcon Kingdom.] One megaton! For a fleeting second, he felt as if his heartbeat had stopped entirely... ... A month and a half had passed since the festival filled with blossoming fireworks. Over those six weeks, the greatest change north of Dawn City was undoubtedly the highway running toward the north. With the help of Ideal Group, this 169-kilometer concrete highway—costing 16.9 million Cr and stretching from the northern outskirts of Qingquan City straight to Sunset Province—was finally completed. Previously, traveling from Qingquan City to Ruigu City took a day or two even on a forced march. Now, with a wide-open highway cutting straight through, it took less than three hours. As the Administrator of the Alliance, Chu Guang attended the highway's ribbon-cutting ceremony. Even though trucks had already been rumbling across it before the ribbon was ever cut. "This road is fundamentally an emergency project, so keeping it in use long-term will require proper maintenance. If properly maintained, though, it shouldn't have any trouble lasting ten to twenty years." Looking at the arrow-straight concrete highway before him, Li Changkong beamed with pride, speaking with immense satisfaction. Beside him, Chu Guang also wore a smile as he took Li Changkong's hand and shook it. "Thank you so much!" Li Changkong smiled back. "You're too polite!" Not far away, the Alliance's chief engineer, Spare the Blade, was still squatting beside the highway, staring at a chunk of concrete on the ground and muttering under his breath, "How can that be..." Passing by, Jieyan glanced over and saw him still crouched there obsessing over the damn road. He couldn't resist calling out, "Holy crap... you haven't given up yet? Made heads or tails of anything?" To his surprise, Spare the Blade actually nodded. Reaching out, he stroked the side of the road with his index finger, then rubbed his index finger and thumb together. "This road isn't simple concrete. Inside, there's a reinforcing structure like rebar... only it isn't steel." Jieyan paused. "Then what is it?" "Carbon... or possibly some isomer of silicon carbide." Spare the Blade dusted off his hands and stood up, his eyes gleaming. "I don't know exactly what it is, but its tensile strength, yield strength, and other physical properties far outstrip steel." "Oh..." Jieyan rubbed his chin. "Interesting." Seeing that utterly perfunctory expression, Spare the Blade couldn't help saying, "Don't you find that bizarre?" Jieyan gave him a puzzled look. "What's bizarre about that? There's a freaking space elevator out in the Great Waste... Materials with higher tensile strength—isn't that basic sci-fi standard?" Spare the Blade: "..." He made total sense. For a moment, Spare the Blade couldn't even think of a comeback. In the distance, the ribbon-cutting ceremony concluded. Just as Chu Guang was pondering where to send the now-idle machinery to build something next, Xiao Qi's voice suddenly chimed in his ear: "Master! Prince Kariman wants to see you. He says he has an important matter to discuss. Should I arrange a meeting?"