"...Honored Administrator, as you instructed, I have mediated the ongoing incident here. The Legion commander agreed to distinguish between innocents and rioters through public trials... I know full well this isn't a good idea, but to be completely honest, did I have a better alternative? Forgive my limited abilities; this is the absolute limit of what I could achieve just by talking.
"Also, regarding the 'arsonist' matter you asked me to investigate, I regret that I haven't found any solid leads yet. I inspected the warehouse and interviewed nearby residents. Some claimed they saw believers of the Silver Moon Church near the perimeter of the warehouse district, while others said they saw suspicious figures climbing over the walls... Their testimonies contradict one another, and they're reluctant to talk much about what happened that day. As for the Wilante, they rounded up over a hundred 'arsonists,' but every single one of them strikes me as falsely accused.
"I did manage to find the guy who fired the first shot that killed the captain of the guard team. Or more accurately, others turned him in. No matter how you look at him, that Rat Clan lad is just an ordinary person, hardly the type acting under someone's orders. I even wondered whether the shot he fired actually hit. Although I wanted to interrogate him further, the Wilante didn't seem to care who fired the shot anymore. Once the dusk bells tolled, he was marched to the execution grounds along with the rest.
"My feelings are completely conflicted. Among my companions, some sympathize with the Wilante, while others sympathize with the dead laborers; they've argued more than once. Mr. Yarman's plight certainly evokes my sympathy, yet I can't help wondering whether the slave owners brought this all upon themselves... Still, looking into Ruby's pitiful, endearing eyes, I almost wish I could avenge her myself.
"Later, though, a girl about Ruby's age asked me in confusion what her father had done wrong, whether they shouldn't resist, whether they should just kneel and surrender when facing tyranny... I must admit, I really broke down a bit at that moment. But in the end, the Alliance isn't a wishing well. We lack the power to rewrite every law of the world. No one has that power, and I understand this clearly.
"I admire beyond measure the players who took part in the Boulder City incident. How on earth did they achieve that perfect ending? Was I supposed to plant a goblin rocket on Yarman's ship? But we were a whole week too late. Even looking back now, I can't think of a better plan... Or does a perfect ending simply never exist in this land from the very beginning?
"The ordeal finally ended today. The Legion at last ceased the killings and began planning what comes next. According to the tallies, a staggering eighty thousand people died. General MacLaren said he lost his bet with Millurion Ross; he had expected a hundred thousand, so it was twenty thousand short, but I couldn't feel even the slightest bit pleased.
"Furthermore, the Legion has no intention of stopping here. Massive shipments of supplies are being transported from Evernight Port to West Sail Port. I gathered that Evernight Port appears to be territory belonging to the Southern Legion... the very one that gifted us a 902mm cannon.
"To be honest, I'm completely in the dark about what they're scheming. Didn't they agree not to expand eastward? Yet more and more infantry are disembarking... I don't know, but they certainly don't look like they intend to pull out anytime soon.
"That's all the intelligence I have on West Sail Port for now. There are also some rumors that the Heavenly King Army seems to have besieged Tiandu, and the fighting between the two sides is said to be exceptionally brutal. In addition, the three states of Lion, Wolf, and Ox have fallen into the hands of the Heavenly King Army. Countless liberated slaves and serfs along the way have joined them; the force probably numbers over two million by now...
"Lastly, could you perhaps form a peacekeeping force under the Slime Mold Consortium? I have a feeling the situation is no longer something our side alone can control. Bringing more survivor factions into play might be a good idea, especially Enterprise and the Academy."
As Farsighted Eagle typed these words on his keyboard, he knew it sounded rather unrealistic.
The wasteland was not reality, and the Slime Mold Consortium was certainly no United Nations. How could it possibly assemble any peacekeeping force?
If factions had the strength to move, they would have sent regular troops long ago; they only sat down at the table when their hands were tied.
Even so, after thinking it over, he didn't delete a single word and struck the Enter key.
[Message Sent.]
"Fuck me! Finally got that damn thing done!"
Letting out a long breath, Eagle leaned back in his chair, picked up the helmet from the desk, and pulled it on as if escaping reality.
In the blink of an eye, the ceiling above him shifted.
This was a utility room in the church of the Silver Moon Church. Four beds were crammed into a space of less than fifteen square meters.
Because the port district had been blasted to smithereens by 380mm heavy guns, there were no viable inns left nearby. For the past several days, they had been boarding in small cubicles at the church, with Yarman and his daughter staying right next door.
Old Stick and Old Guan were still fast asleep in bed, while Old Wolf had already gone out, presumably to interview locals and gather clues.
To be frank, Eagle felt it was a waste of effort.
The entire settlement was currently gripped by terror. Everyone looked at each other like murderers. Aside from naive children willing to speak the truth, anyone who knew anything kept their mouths shut, deliberately dodging the subject whenever that night was mentioned.
Eagle reckoned the arson investigation had hit a dead end, and even if they cracked it, it probably wouldn't mean much anymore.
The pressing priority right now was figuring out what the Legion actually planned to do.
Three millurias had already landed at West Sail Port—amounting to three regiments by Alliance standards.
The Heavenly King Army was wreaking havoc across the entire Lion State, yet instead of suppressing the rebels, the Legion stayed in West Sail Port bullying honest folks, which seemed absurd.
Granted, fighting hundreds of thousands with just a few thousand troops was no easy feat, but couldn't they at least flank the rebels while the Heavenly King Army was clashing with the imperial regular army?
What they were doing right now was practically letting the avalanche bury the Empire...
And that was their "ally."
At least, that was what the lore manual said.
Perhaps it was merely an illusion, but he felt things were not that simple.
In particular, he recalled MacLaren reading the newspaper in the church. That man had two completely different faces between his time in the church and his presence at the port.
One moment, he was calm as though negotiating a business deal, methodically laying out terms and interests; the next, he was like a demon consumed by rage, wishing he could slaughter every last survivor in West Sail Port.
He didn't act like a general.
He acted like a politician dressed in a general's coat.
If Eagle remembered correctly, before he entered the game, this guy hadn't been like that.
People changed, sure, but MacLaren's transformation was far too drastic.
What on earth had set him off?
Asking MacLaren directly would yield nothing, not to mention Eagle hadn't seen the man around the port for several days.
As for the Wilante soldiers, there was no point trying—their relationship wasn't great to begin with.
Weighing all these factors, Eagle decided to take an alternative angle, starting with an NPC they were on relatively good terms with.
Such as Yarman.
Although Yarman wasn't military, the rank-and-file soldiers and officers stationed locally felt immense sympathy for what he had suffered.
Furthermore, the man possessed an impressive network of local connections. Perhaps he could loosen some local tongues and extract intelligence they couldn't uncover on their own...
Having mapped out the day's plan on his VM, Eagle saw the other two still hadn't logged in. Unwilling to wait any longer, he pushed open the door and headed toward the well in the backyard to wash up.
As luck would have it, just as he opened the door, Yarman stepped out from the neighboring room, coming face-to-face with him.
In just one short week, the once high-spirited man had shed a noticeable amount of weight, and scruffy stubble covered his chin. A succession of tragedies had snapped his spine; right now, he looked as haggard and defeated as a drunk who had lost everything.
Fortunately, he hadn't lost everything—at least his Ruby was still here.
That heartbreaking little face hid behind him, a frail little hand gently clutching the hem of his coat.
Eagle offered the little girl a friendly smile, then greeted his partner.
"Feeling any better?"
Yarman hesitated, gave a slow nod, and walked past him with his head lowered.
"Yeah..."
Seeing that the two were also heading toward the backyard well, Eagle fell into step beside him.
"What are your plans now? Head back to Triumph City? Or continue here with... uh, our previous business?"
Eagle naturally hoped Yarman would choose the latter, both for the mission at hand and for future trade.
Yet after such a grievous tragedy, he couldn't bring himself to push, leaving the choice entirely to his partner.
Yarman fell silent, not speaking for a long time, looking completely lost in thought.
"It's fine. You don't have to decide right away. If you haven't recovered yet, I can keep waiting—" Realizing his question might have sounded insensitive, Eagle hastily smiled to smooth things over, trying to steer the conversation away.
To his surprise, the silent Yarman suddenly cut him off.
"These past few days... I've actually been thinking about something."
His Adam's apple bobbed as he continued in a conflicted voice.
"Did I... did we go too far with the local survivors?"
This time, it was Eagle's turn to fall silent.
After roughly half a minute, he ultimately chose to side with his conscience and shrugged lightly.
"Bro... if you want the honest truth, you guys really did go a bit too far."
Objectively speaking, the Legion seemed to have brought freedom to the survivors of West Sail Port.
Yet given the reality on the ground, that illusion of freedom was more like a pretty soap bubble—burst at a single poke, blown away by a single breeze.
All the resources and rules throughout West Sail Port were firmly monopolized by the Wilante and the native aristocracy.
Survivors in Bogra at least had hope of paying off their debts and turning their lives around, whereas survivors in West Sail Port had no option except waiting for reincarnation.
Evidently, fairness was not achieved simply by scrawling the word onto a scrap of paper.
He had once assumed the Legion had at least done some good by turning the locals from livestock into commodities, only to realize after arriving here that he had been hopelessly naive. Livestock remained livestock; they had merely been stamped with an inspection certificate, while the slaughter tools and process were automated.
When being a slave was more comfortable than being a freeman, what kind of progress was that supposed to be?
Knowing full well his words were harsh, Eagle expected the man to glare in fury or even pick an argument. Instead, Yarman remained quiet for a while before finally forcing a bitter smile onto his face.
"I knew it..."
Yarman scratched his messy hair, gazing out the hallway window toward the well, and spoke with heavy emotion.
"Deep down, I knew it too... It was bound to collapse sooner or later. The Legion's colonies haven't been free of rebellions; they've happened time and again. Just because the survivors in Brahma Province were docile, I shouldn't have comforted myself by thinking West Sail Port would be an exception. Especially since this place is different from the rest—it didn't even have an organized garrison. Once things spiraled out of control, no one was going to survive."
He paused, the look of remorse in his eyes deepening, tinged with a trace of bitter helplessness.
"Yet there was nothing I could do. Nothing at all. I'm just a nobody. My will and my opinions mean nothing before the truly powerful."
He still remembered clearly.
When he entered the room back then, General MacLaren had only tilted his head slightly, not even sparing him a glance, treating him like a speck of dust drifting under the eaves.
Speaking up to this point, Yarman grew increasingly emotional.
He inhaled deeply and buried his face in his hands, fighting to suppress the tremor in his voice.
"You're right... I've felt that way in my heart all along."
"If I hadn't pushed Naji so hard, maybe that laborer named Orisa wouldn't have died, there wouldn't have been a strike afterward, and maybe the warehouse wouldn't have caught fire. Even if it did, it might not have gotten so out of hand."
No one had anticipated that the fire would rage brighter and fiercer, consuming not just West Sail Port, but Lion State as well...
It had even ignited the entire Empire.
And what tormented him most was not the burning Empire or the countless dead compatriots, but the sudden realization that his wife had indirectly died by his own hand...
Unable to bear seeing the man drive himself into a corner, Eagle sighed, stepped forward, and patted his shoulder.
"Alright... don't be too hard on yourself. This isn't just one person's fault. You'd be better off blaming the munitions piled in the port warehouse than blaming yourself. Damn it... thank goodness our Administrator was wise. Knowing those big-nosed folks were up to no good, he intercepted that shipment midway and hauled it back."
The moment the words left his mouth, Eagle realized it sounded off, abruptly realizing he had just insulted both of the people in front of him. He coughed hastily to salvage the situation.
"Ah, of course, the big-noses I mentioned doesn't include you or little Ruby—"
Yarman shook his head.
"You're right. Those big-noses really aren't good people, including the man I used to be... Of course, Ruby is still young; none of this has anything to do with her. This is the responsibility of our generation."
At this point, he paused, the gloom in his eyes giving way to resolve.
"Without a doubt, what deserves condemnation are the cannibalistic rules and boundless greed. If no one rectifies these wrongs, the price will be paid again and again... and the karma incurred will eventually be visited upon our children."
As he spoke, he rested a hand on Ruby's head, gently stroking her hair.
The girl tilted her head in confusion, gazing up innocently at her haggard yet gentle father, clearly unable to comprehend his words.
Naturally so.
For her age, talk of duty and responsibility was still far too early.
Standing across from them, however, Eagle caught his drift and couldn't help giving him a thumbs-up.
*Now that's seeing the big picture, brother!*
The Alliance had Wilante citizens too, and in considerable numbers—Vannus was one of them.
They had clearly harbored similar convictions, standing against the Legion for the sake of the Wilante people.
After all, if the Legion wasn't brought down, the Wilante would never become a normal race.
Their descendants would bleed merely for the sake of bleeding, avenge merely for the sake of revenge, sacrificing themselves endlessly in ceaseless warfare, never attaining the equality, dignity, and recognition they truly longed for.
Still, not to pour cold water on him, but as a mere itinerant merchant, this fellow probably couldn't change much of anything.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a quavering voice drifted over from the side.
"Mr. Melchior is actually still alive... Those of pious faith do not die so easily.
"Nor do the brave."
All three turned toward the hallway in unison, spotting the church's elderly nun standing in the doorway.
She wore her usual simple robe, a withered index finger touching the silver moon pendant at her chest, her lips moving continuously as if chanting.
The sound resembled a prayer.
Yet it also sounded like a confession.
"Mr. Yarman, please forgive me for concealing part of the truth from you, but please believe it was never out of malice.
"I promised that lady... Her child cannot be left without a mother."
Chapter 830