"...We, on behalf of the Falcon Royal Family, hereby declare that as of today, the land and air forces of the Falcon Kingdom surrender to the Alliance, the Enterprise Expeditionary Force, and the warring nations of Lion, Honey Badger, Golden Lizard, and Camel Hump."
"From the date of signing the surrender agreement, all combat units loyal to the Falcon Royal Family shall immediately abandon their current positions and proceed to the garrisons of the Alliance or Enterprise land forces to surrender their weapons and ammunition. The Alliance and the Enterprise promise to guarantee everyone's personal safety."
"Furthermore, to our subjects: The Kingdom declared war on the nations of Sunset Province solely because the blessings bestowed by the Spirit of the Sand Sea have dwindled year after year, while garrison expenditures, royal living costs, and industrial expenses have remained exorbitant. Compelled by the circumstances, We had no choice; this outcome was never Our original intent..."
"...We hope you all understand Our meaning."
Inside the holographic projection.
King Menggote, wearing a crown and draped in royal robes, sat in his castle office, reading the decree of surrender facing the camera.
Just five minutes earlier, he had already signed the formal written surrender agreement and handed it over to the Alliance's Burning Corps stationed in the castle.
This holographic recording would be broadcast across the entire Falcon Kingdom in audio form, and transmitted to every unit of the Falcon Kingdom Army via their command network.
Predictably, the players stationed in Bist Town were going to have their hands full.
Having finally read the surrender decree to the end, Menggote paused and looked toward the holographic projection before him.
The man in that projection was none other than the Alliance's Administrator.
The man was even younger than he had imagined, completely different from the portraits his officials had gathered from within the Honey Badger Kingdom.
Especially those eyes—deep as the starlit sky overhead.
Though not displaying overt sharpness or aggression, those pitch-black pupils possessed a soul-gripping penetrative force that made him afraid to meet his gaze. It felt as if lingering on those pupils for even a second longer would allow all the secrets in his heart to be stolen away.
"Do you see anything that needs changing?" King Menggote asked with the posture of a subordinate.
Chu Guang was relatively satisfied with his surrender decree, especially how he placed the important matters at the front and saved the nonsense for the back.
As for the Falcon Kingdom, he had long made arrangements in his mind, though there was no need to tell him right now.
To foil Griffin's mad plan, the second thing he had to do right now was disarm the frontline troops!
Looking at the downcast old man on the holographic screen, he said concisely,
"No need. This version will do."
Menggote nodded slightly, sighed inwardly, offered his farewells, and vanished from the holographic screen.
Watching the old man disappear from the screen, Chu Guang turned his gaze to Xiao Qi, who was sitting on the pen holder.
"Did you get the communication interface?"
The Legion hadn't merely helped the Falcon Kingdom establish a relatively modern command network; they had also provided them with a complete suite of information technology services.
Having inherited part of the pre-war era's military technology, the Legion was quite proficient in information security and cryptography—enough to give even the Academy and the Enterprise a headache.
Not to mention a general-purpose assistant AI like Xiao Qi.
To make a vivid if imperfect analogy: the Legion's cyberwarfare defense was a 4, while its offensive capability had degraded over time to roughly a 3.
The Enterprise was probably around 3 and 4, and the Academy, which both the Legion and the Enterprise kept an eye on, was probably around 5 and 2.
As for the vault, with its defense maxed out, it was roughly a 6 on defense and 0.5 to 1 on offense.
This was determined by a series of historical factors, including budget.
As for the nations of Sunset Province, from all indications, the only thing they had inherited from pre-war civilization was the "river embankment." Even that sole inheritance had been imbued with religious meaning because it could not be explained.
Unless the Falcon Kingdom were like the Lion Kingdom—completely eschewing radio for long-distance communications and relying instead on carrier pigeons or fast couriers—with a feudal kingdom's information technology and encryption levels, this war wouldn't have dragged on for so long at all.
Even an "attack power" of 0.5 was not something a "primitive civilization" from before the Prosperity Era could withstand.
If not for the information encryption services provided by the Legion, Xiao Qi could have paralyzed the Falcon Kingdom's communication system just as easily as crushing a network in the real world.
However, that was no longer necessary.
The Alliance's army had physically taken the "key" from the Falcon Kingdom's hands, and a signal repeater had already been installed atop the castle's tower.
"...Interface confirmed! Signal status is excellent! Master, should I send the video just now to the Falcon Kingdom's command headquarters?"
"Yes." Seeing Xiao Qi's sparkling eyes, Chu Guang nodded approvingly. "Not just the headquarters. Send a copy to every combat unit at every level if possible... if you can manage it."
Xiao Qi playfully pressed her right fist against her chest.
"Understood!"
...
The broadcast of surrender was first played in Falcon City.
Through horns and loudspeakers across the city, it echoed again and again.
Upon hearing the king they served speak those words of surrender, the Royal Guard fighting desperately in the castle finally abandoned their last shred of delusion. Grimy-faced, they walked out with their hands raised from the attic junk rooms and the kitchen hearths.
Of course.
Not everyone could accept such an outcome with composure.
"Long live His Majesty the King!"
His facial muscles twisted in madness, a Royal Guard soldier pulled the pin of his last grenade, blowing himself to pieces with a thunderous blast.
Others said nothing, shoved their gun barrels into their mouths, closed their eyes, and pulled the trigger... choosing to die as warriors.
Regardless, nothing could change the fact that they were defeated.
Everything was over.
Long before their Majesty surrendered, their kingdom had already lost...
Captured rifles were tossed into the palace hall, while ammunition was stored separately in utility rooms. With hands behind their heads, the Royal Guards marched out of the castle in lines under the watchful eyes of Alliance soldiers.
A soldier stopped in front of Midal, looking at his bandage-wrapped superior, and after a moment's hesitation, rendered a military salute.
"Sir... where do we go now?"
Midal looked at him with mixed feelings.
"Go stay with your family."
The soldier froze, standing in place at a complete loss until his comrade walked over and pulled him aside.
The scruffy-bearded man muttered something and patted his shoulder.
"Let's go... come to my place."
Watching the two walk away, Midal suddenly realized he had a slight impression of that young man... He had enlisted to replace his older brother, who had previously enlisted to replace their father.
That young man had no home left to return to.
Midal closed his eyes in anguish, facing that long column in prolonged silence.
On the other side.
Standing at the entrance of the dungeon, Corner Camper walked up to Lao Bai.
"The royal family members have been contained, along with the nobles attached to them... Should we leave them in the dungeon? Or let them go back to their rooms to sleep?"
Lao Bai thought for a moment and said,
"Let them make do in the dungeon for the night. We'll hand them all over to the NPCs taking over this place."
Corner Camper gave an OK gesture.
"Okey-doke."
Before the airship arrived above the castle, they needed to pull guard duty for the First Corps NPCs for a while.
This was easy enough for the players.
They just took turns logging off to rest.
In addition to securing the entire castle, Kuang Feng detached a century and placed it under Jieyan's command, ordering him to take the herald appointed by Menggote and the deputy to City Defense Commander Bofu to Falcon City's South Gate to disarm the city defense troops and militia.
There were still over a dozen anti-aircraft guns deployed on the river embankment.
Before the airship arrived, they needed to round up and destroy all the anti-aircraft guns that hadn't been blown up yet.
En route to the South Gate of the embankment, the century led by Jieyan happened upon a militia unit rushing to reinforce the castle.
Among them were the elderly, children, and even women. A clamorous crowd of about a hundred people had only around twenty rifles; the remaining dozens held pitchforks and grain flails.
It was obvious they hadn't wanted to come.
Otherwise, they wouldn't have taken so long to cover a ten-kilometer main road.
Without needing the centurion named "Jieyan" to give an order, Bofu's adjutant jogged forward immediately, waving both hands and shouting to the crowd.
"The war is over! Drop your weapons and you can go home!"
No one moved.
Finally, an old man in his fifties squeezed out from the crowd, staring at the adjutant and asking,
"Does your word count? If we lay down our weapons... will His Majesty... hang us?"
The adjutant shouted, between laughter and tears,
"Don't worry! He won't! His Majesty has already surrendered!"
Once they confirmed that their king had indeed surrendered and that the broadcast earlier wasn't a lie fabricated by the enemy, the militiamen felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted. Relieved, they tossed aside their weapons and farm tools, scattering and disappearing down the streets.
Just then, a laborer carrying a shovel crept out from an alley.
Behind him followed a group of raggedly dressed people. Ever since the Alliance soldiers left the castle, they had been following along from the sidelines for quite a while.
Looking at the official who seemed of some rank, the dark-skinned man shouted,
"What about us? Do we... still need to keep building that chevaux-de-frise?"
The adjutant said, half-amused and half-exasperated,
"No need... Don't waste your time. You can all go home too."
The castle had already been taken; what was the point of building those things?
These lower-class folk really lacked any situational awareness...
Upon hearing they could go home, tears welled in everyone's eyes. Overcome with emotion, they wept tears of joy, and someone even threw down their shovel and cheered,
"Long live the Alliance!"
Unfortunately, as soon as those words left his mouth, the excited fellow was gagged by his companions and dragged away.
The war was over.
Yet the city's name hadn't changed yet.
The one sitting in the castle was still that king.
No one knew what the future would hold...
...
At the same time.
The eastern front of Oasis 2.
Upon hearing the news of King Menggote's surrender, Prince William sat inside his command tent, frozen for a full ten minutes.
Finally recovering from his shock, he reached out a trembling index finger to pinch the bridge of his brow. After a long while, he looked at the guard standing before him.
"...Play it again."
"Yes!"
The guard nodded nervously, turned on the holographic projector cradled in his arms, and replayed the holographic footage from Falcon City.
Amidst the pale blue motes of light.
The elderly king spoke at an unhurried pace.
"...We, on behalf of the Falcon Royal Family, hereby declare that as of today, the land and air forces of the Falcon Kingdom surrender to the Alliance, the Enterprise Expeditionary Force, and the warring nations of Lion, Honey Badger, Golden Lizard, and Camel Hump."
William stared unblinkingly at the old man in the holographic projection, trying to spot a flaw in his expression, his voice, or even those tiny pixels of light.
Regrettably, he found none, right up to the final second of the footage.
Without a doubt.
That man was his father—
Menggote Falcon!
The supreme sovereign of the Falcon Kingdom.
William shut his eyes in agony, his handsome brows knitted in sorrow and struggle.
Looking at the prince clenching his fists, the guard standing before him kept his head lowered and asked earnestly,
"Your Highness, what... should we do?"
If Prince William refused to recognize His Majesty's surrender decree, he would stand with the prince and rectify the old king's mistake.
The border of Oasis 2 was still in their hands.
Behind them stood the Legion.
As long as Prince William was still willing to fight, they could not possibly lose!
William remained silent for a long time. The fists resting on his knees tightened and relaxed, until finally, all his reluctance, shock, and fury dissolved into a long sigh.
"Mikalit."
"Present," the guard replied solemnly.
William paused, then continued,
"...I never imagined Falcon City would fall into the hands of the Alliance."
"We fought bravely for Griffin, for Triumph City, and for their Grand Marshal, yet the things they promised us... not a single one was ever honored."
The guard stared blankly at His Highness, vaguely guessing something from the look in his eyes.
William didn't look at the young guard.
He merely recalled what that arrogant officer had unilaterally declared to him outside the City of Abundance.
Whenever the battle went poorly, the Wilante had them charge, and when it came time to retreat, the Wilante mercilessly abandoned them, demanding they cover the rear.
It seemed it had always been like this.
Tonight was no different. He only learned that the royal capital behind him had been captured by the Alliance when the surrender decree was handed to him.
The Falcon Kingdom had already lost at least over a hundred thousand young men to this war, and countless people had fled the kingdom...
Yet those Wilante had never considered them "one of their own."
He could seize the throne from his father and declare the ceasefire decree invalid. The army in his hands was loyal to the royal family, but even more loyal to him as the Kingdom's Marshal.
He could lead his subordinates to keep fighting, battling the Alliance and the Enterprise to the bitter end...
Yet he knew.
Even if he did, the outcome would not change in the slightest.
If the Wilante never treated them as their own, then all those promises were nothing more than self-deceiving lies...
They would never receive reinforcements from Triumph City.
Even if they did, it would all be in vain.
"Order the entire army to strike camp immediately... Leave all weapons and ammunition where they are, turn off the radios, and head to Bist Town to surrender."
Hearing the prince's voice, the guard's shoulders twitched slightly. He looked at him in surprise, but ultimately bowed his head deeply.
"Yes!"
...
Prince William and the various units of the Falcon Kingdom Army weren't the only ones to receive the surrender decree; naturally, the Legion Command, which held supreme operational authority on the front lines, received it as well.
Every move of the vassal armies was under their surveillance, so such massive news could not possibly be missed.
Staring blankly toward the south for a full half-minute, Griffin suddenly cursed in fury,
"Those despicable traitors! Useless, blundering dogs!"
Not a shred of loyalty!
Slamming his right fist heavily onto the command table, he glared at the map spread out before him, his eyes laced with bloodshot veins.
The thing he dreaded most had indeed come to pass.
From the very beginning, the Alliance had planned to capture Falcon City outright, rather than conduct a mere strategic bombing.
What he had never imagined was that Falcon City, with over five thousand garrison troops, would be taken by an Alliance airborne force of fewer than a thousand men.
What shocked him even more was that the old man who had always been so respectful toward him chose to surrender so decisively...
The officers standing around the command table wore equally grim expressions.
Counting the local militias and city defense troops mobilized to the front, there were currently eight legions deployed along the border of Oasis 2, holding a defensive line one hundred and twenty kilometers wide and thirty kilometers deep.
Once these eight legions defected,
the defensive line they had worked so hard to construct would instantly become riddled with holes.
Unless they dispersed their remaining five legions across those vacant defensive positions... but that would only make matters worse.
A staff officer couldn't help stealing a glance at General Griffin and reminded him in a hushed voice,
"If the Alliance's armored forces advance now, we will soon be split and encircled..."
"I don't need you to remind me," Griffin interrupted coldly.
The staff officer's expression froze.
The officers standing before the command table exchanged glances, finally looking toward the adjutant closest to Griffin.
Supplies from the rear were due to arrive soon.
Yet their professional instincts told them that even if they arrived, it wouldn't make a difference.
Their vassal state had declared surrender. From now on, they had to face the wastelanders of the entire desert alone, along with the expeditionary force from the east.
Not only had ammunition supply become an issue,
but even deliveries of bread, beef, eggs, and milk were cut off. Without logistical replenishment from the rear, even if the Alliance did nothing, they wouldn't last long.
Unless they turned their guns around and conquered the Falcon Kingdom... but that was plainly impossible. Occupying a kingdom was far harder than coercing one. They couldn't spare the manpower to establish a new puppet state, not to mention the Alliance forces watching them closely nearby.
Whatever Griffin's thoughts were,
they no longer wished to fight...
Under the pressure of his colleagues' stares, the adjutant bit the bullet, looked at Griffin, and whispered,
"General... what should we do?"
Griffin remained silent for a long, long time.
Finally, beneath the expectant gazes of the crowd, he spoke slowly.
"Relocate to the military base a hundred kilometers away... Our reinforcements will arrive soon." Glancing across the officers before the command table, Griffin said word by word, "'Surrender' is not in my vocabulary. As long as I am still standing here... don't even think about it."
He was prepared to go to hell.
For Triumph City.
For the Grand Marshal.
For invincible glory.
The moment those words left his mouth, the eyes looking back at him instantly filled with disappointment.
And even despair.
They didn't know the plan Griffin had in mind, nor were they prepared to be buried with him.
A heavy silence spread across the command table.
Feeling the weight of those gazes, the adjutant lowered his head helplessly and gritted his teeth.
"Yes..."
...
The next morning.
A strange scene unfolded on the border of Oasis 2.
From the heavily fortified positions, a massive crowd departed, walking empty-handed into the desert.
Another group also abandoned the trenches, but retreated in the exact opposite direction.
As if by agreement, neither side interfered with the other.
"Holy crap... Do those Wilante really still want to fight?"
Standing atop the tank turret, Elven King Fugui raised his binoculars, glanced into the distance, and clicked his tongue.
Columns of prisoners arrived at the western gate of Bist Town, where the leading commander was handing them over to the officer appointed by the Alliance to accept the surrender.
He looked around and didn't spot a single big-nosed Wilante.
Nor did he see Battlefield Guy.
"No one can go against the tide of history... Just watch." Looking at the sea of bobbing heads ahead, Brother Mole narrowed his eyes and made a pretentious remark that even he didn't quite understand.
At that moment, a newbie leaning against the tank sighed.
"If we fired a single shell into that... think of how many kills that would farm."
Brother Mole rolled his eyes.
"Then your account would be gone. Remember to cash out the silver coins in your account first before trying that."
The price of silver coins had never been fixed.
Especially after several recent auctions—though nobody knew what was sold, the closing bids were in the hundreds of millions or billions.
While a newbie probably didn't have much in their pocket, converting it for a thousand or two thousand yuan was no problem.
The newbie blinked.
"Wait... They even do linked account bans for that?"
Brother Mole looked at him strangely.
"This is a closed beta game, right? The helmet was won in a raffle, so even if they revoke your beta access, there's nothing unreasonable about it."
The newbie laughed wryly.
"Damn! But isn't that punishment way too harsh?"
Hopping down from the turret, Elven King Fugui grinned and patted the guy on the shoulder.
"You bet it is. In the game's setting, every NPC's death deletes their data permanently. Forget about the damn planner coming for you—even if he didn't, we'd take you down ourselves."
"That's right," Elaina nodded, an odd look on his face. "...If the fighting drags on, the expansion pack settlement will be delayed."
"The corps' collective score will get docked too."
"We might even miss the year-end 'Tide' event."
"Hiss... That won't do!"
Seeing everyone's unfriendly gazes turning toward him, the newbie hurriedly waved his hands with an awkward laugh.
"I was just running my mouth... I'd never screw over the gang!"
He was only daydreaming anyway.
The tank keys were in the vehicle commander's hands; those veterans in their teens and twenties wouldn't mess around with him.
Besides, the silver coins in his account were still worth a few thousand bucks.
Brother Mole gave the newbie a meaningful look without saying anything.
Then again,
if one day a player suddenly liquidated all their gear and put all their silver coins up for consignment, unless the damn planner was an absolute idiot, he'd know exactly what they were planning.
Though he didn't dare test it, he couldn't help feeling curious.
Would the damn planner use admin powers just on suspicion that a player intended to cause trouble?
Or would he set up an undercover sting...
Too bad that due to the linked ban mechanism, even if there were slipped fish who disregarded everyone else's gaming experience, they would vanish from the forums once their accounts were locked.
Whether there were any or not was impossible to know.
...
Afternoon sunlight spilled across the streets of Falcon City.
For the vast majority of Falcon City's residents, today's sunlight was exceptionally bright. The war sparked by the ambition and stupidity of a few had finally ended.
Many people left the city early in the morning carrying wicker baskets, intending to forage in the abandoned wild fields outside for potatoes or wheat ears to boil into porridge.
They hadn't seen the sun beyond the city walls in a long time.
Ever since the Wartime Act and Mobilization Regulations were enacted, commoners without noble titles required transit papers to leave the city.
Fearing that families would flee to other oases or hide in the forests to evade military service, the noble lords would rather have them starve inside the city than let them venture out to fend for themselves.
Thank heavens.
All of it was finally over.
Whatever the future held, everyone was relieved.
Of course, not all who left the city did so out of hunger; more went to escape the chaos brought by the war.
With the militia, city defense force, and royal guard disbanded in succession, the city's public order quickly deteriorated.
There was never a shortage of looters looking to profit from chaos.
Especially among a populace of the old, weak, sick, and disabled, anyone with a bit of strength could lord over others. If someone managed to pilfer a rifle from the battlefield and bring it home, they could easily become a "general" ruling over several streets.
Furthermore, the demobilized soldiers sent home were an additional destabilizing factor.
Yet unexpectedly, the chaotic situation did not last long.
Perhaps unwilling to watch looters pillage and oppress the vulnerable, the victorious Alliance soldiers did not stand by laughing.
Instead, they took action.
They did two things.
First, they assembled representatives from various trades across the city to form a "Citizens' Autonomous Committee," selected a group of young men from the demobilized militia, and distributed weapons captured from the Royal Guard and city defense troops to them.
Second, with thunderous measures, they punished those who looted or committed violence in the streets, handing them over to this newly established Citizens' Autonomous Committee for disposal.
Inside the castle courtyard.
Several men, beaten black and blue, knelt on the ground with their hands and feet bound tightly in ropes.
Not far from them stood several elderly folk, women, and children, brought there as victims and witnesses.
Standing alongside the players of the Burning Corps were the representatives of the Citizens' Autonomous Committee—among them tailors, stonemasons, and butchers who sold pork. A few held "Ripper" rifles in their hands.
It was clear this was their first time standing inside the royal palace; everyone looked constrained and uneasy, not daring to look at the king seated upon the throne.
If the Alliance soldiers hadn't required them to stand there, they probably would have knelt like the prisoners.
Without looking at the kneeling men, Lao Bai looked at the old king on the throne.
"...In the Alliance, robbery is a felony. The maximum penalty classifies the perpetrator as a marauder, stripping them of all personal liberty, political rights, and even human rights, forcing them to labor like beasts in the mines until death."
Saying this, Lao Bai turned his gaze from the king's face to the civilian representatives they had selected.
"How is this sort of situation handled here?"
The representatives hesitated for a moment before the butcher stepped forward, declaring viciously,
"Under the laws of the Falcon Kingdom... they should be beheaded publicly!"
Hearing that he was to be beheaded, a kneeling man immediately cried out like a mouse whose tail had been stepped on.
"Wait! I am a noble! I was personally enfeoffed as a baron by His Majesty... The penalty of beheading does not apply to me!"
Lao Bai was not surprised by the man's defense.
Apart from the small fry, those capable of looting at a time like this were generally nobles exempt from military service.
Particularly the mid-to-lower-tier nobility.
These men had previously refused to speak out of vanity, but upon hearing they were to be beheaded, they immediately brandished their noble status.
All five turned out to be barons.
The old king looked at them with a dark scowl.
These people had thoroughly disgraced him.
Lao Bai shook his head.
"Beheading is too bloody... uncivilized."
Yet before the kneeling men could rejoice, his next words plunged them into a bottomless pit of ice.
"Change it to hanging."
Hearing that they still couldn't escape death, the kneeling nobles turned toward the king one after another.
"Your Majesty!"
"Spare us, Your Majesty!"
Looking at the nobles pleading desperately, the old king sighed, wishing he could remind them they were begging the wrong person.
Still, there was no helping it; after all, they were nobles he had personally enfeoffed.
He looked at the corps commander and said in a low voice,
"He merely... bullied a few commoners. Is this necessary?"
Even when beating a dog, one had to look at its master.
No matter how wretched they were, they were still his subordinates. He had already surrendered—what more did these people want?
Moreover, he didn't understand why the Alliance was doing this.
Was it to win popular support?
Or to humiliate him?
Going to such great lengths to "stage this play" for him was entirely unnecessary; what dignity did the king of a defeated nation have left?
However...
That "Citizens' Autonomous Committee" gave Menggote an uneasy feeling in his gut.
Although he would grant noble status to commoners who achieved military merits, he had always been wary of distributing power outside the nobility.
Especially now: these people had not only been granted law enforcement authority by Alliance soldiers, but they also held guns.
Under the prestige of royalty, these commoners might not dare do anything for now, but trying to take those guns back from their hands would be exceedingly difficult.
Thinking of this gave Menggote an aching headache.
The temporary unrest in the city hadn't worried him much; such turmoil was like a gust of wind that would pass.
Yet the things the Alliance was currently doing stirred deep anxiety within him.
He felt as though they were planting a terrifying bomb beneath his feet...
Lao Bai smiled and said,
"This is the Administrator's order. Do you have an objection?"
King Menggote fell silent immediately upon hearing that. After a long while, he shook his head.
"None. Do as you please."
The moment his words fell,
without waiting for the Alliance soldiers to gesture, the citizens surrounding the prisoners dragged the kneeling barons roughly to their feet, hauling them out the door despite their weeping and wailing.
Evidently,
they had endured these individuals for a very long time, even well before today.
That rough dragging undoubtedly carried personal vengeance within it.
Lao Bai didn't interfere, quietly acquiescing to their frontier justice.
Although the Administrator's style suited his tastes, he also understood that Chu Guang wasn't doing this simply to uphold justice.
It was merely to cast part of the power out from the castle beneath his feet, handing it to the citizens who had previously been preyed upon.
And thereby tear apart the two classes—the citizens and the feudal nobility—completely...
As a means to dismantle the Falcon Kingdom's war potential, this was far more effective than destroying their industry... Expendables would never throw themselves onto the battlefield of their own accord.
Listening to the despairing wails and coarse curses fading into the distance outside the court doors, King Menggote sighed and shut his eyes.
Even with ten thousand objections in his heart, what could he say?
Even he was merely a spoil of war for the Alliance.
And everything the Alliance did was nothing more than disposing of its spoils...
Chapter 492