Leaving the military encampment, Battlefield Guy did not linger for a second, heading straight back to the inn.
It was eight in the evening, still four hours before the appointed time.
Standing outside the door, he knocked five times in the agreed rhythm—three long, two short.
After waiting two seconds, the sound of a towel being wrung out and the rustling of clothes came from behind the door, followed by approaching footsteps.
The door opened a narrow crack.
Seeing that the person standing outside was Pangolin, Penny finally let out a sigh of relief and engaged the safety on her pistol.
Her dark brown hair was damp, with droplets of water still clinging to her cheeks and neck.
Peering through the gap, Battlefield Guy spotted a wooden tub filled with hot water, along with a towel draped over its rim and several personal garments.
This girl certainly had nerves of steel—still in the mood to take a bath at a time like this.
Then again, being thick-skinned wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Especially when fretting served no purpose at all, keeping one's cool was more important than anything.
Slipping into the room, Battlefield Guy quietly closed the door.
Noticing his gaze linger on the wooden tub, Penny felt her face grow slightly warm, but overcoming her embarrassment, she asked in a low voice, "...The inn brought up hot water. Do you want to... wipe down too?"
This was a tropical region with sweltering weather. After wearing a robe all day, she had been drenched in sweat and simply had to wash.
Though she had already used the water, now was clearly not the time to be fastidious.
Yet just as she overcame her inhibitions, the man called Pangolin merely glanced around the room and spoke.
"We need to move."
Penny froze, her expression instantly turning grave as she hurried over to her luggage. "Move? Did the talks break down?"
"Not quite."
"Then why..." Even as she asked, Penny was already packing her bags.
"Absaik needs to talk with the others in his faction before staging a coup against Janusz. There are two variables here: first, whether they can come to an agreement, and second, whether they can pull it off."
This gamble required flipping a coin twice.
Only if it landed heads both times would they truly be safe.
If he were alone, it wouldn't matter. Even if he failed, he would pick a dashing death that left no trace, then invent an excuse for his disappearance later.
With Penny beside him, however, he had to be doubly cautious and cherish the respawn coin he couldn't afford to burn unless absolutely necessary.
While packing his own gear, Battlefield Guy briefly explained the outcome of the negotiations and the current situation.
As for the Alliance's involvement, he selectively omitted it. After all, that part was impossible to explain in a few words.
If she was curious, she could ask her father later.
Penny didn't probe further, seeming to trust him completely.
Clutching her packed bag, she looked at him nervously. "Where are we going? That safehouse?"
"The safehouse? They might end up fighting another battle. Nowhere in Tiandu is safe right now... We need to leave the city first and only return once both coins have hit the ground."
Battlefield Guy checked the rounds in his magazine and slipped the pistol into his pocket.
Following behind him, Penny nodded nervously, then cast a quick glance back into the room to ensure nothing had been left behind.
Whether it was just her imagination or not, she kept feeling as though she were working as a spy.
No.
To be precise, she was working alongside a spy in the guise of a war correspondent...
A curfew was in effect on the streets outside. Every door and window was shut tight, with the occasional torch-bearing patrol marching by.
However, these patrolling soldiers were far from professional; slipping past them was effortless.
At least for Battlefield Guy.
As an Agility-type Awakened, both his reaction speed and vision far surpassed these locals, who might very well suffer from night blindness.
Taking advantage of the dark, the two slipped out of the inn, crossed several streets, and finally reached the edge of the suburbs.
The houses grew sparser, and the markings on the map turned increasingly abstract.
Reaching the tree line, Battlefield Guy was about to push aside the bushes to slip through when he suddenly froze, made a silencing gesture behind him, and crouched down swiftly.
Penny mimicked his movement, quickly crouching behind the bushes. She carefully regulated her breathing while vigilantly scanning the surroundings.
What was happening?!
She couldn't see a thing; the surroundings seemed completely empty. Yet the grave expression on Pangolin's face showed he was dead serious.
She even saw him draw his pistol and flick off the safety.
Determined not to hold him back, she made sure not to utter a single sound.
Seconds ticked by, stretching into roughly five minutes.
Battlefield Guy suddenly exhaled, engaged the pistol's safety, and gently slid it back into his pocket.
"All clear... They weren't after us."
"What just happened?" Penny blurted out the question burning inside her.
"An unidentified armed squad passed by to our southwest. Sounded like forty or fifty people... They were wearing exoskeletons, carrying light and heavy weapons, and using optical camouflage. Looked a bit like Free State mercenaries."
"Free State?!" Penny was baffled, whispering, "What do they have to do with this?"
"How should I know? Maybe they're buddies with the guys hanging above the city gate... Those shit-stirrers always show up in the most unexpected places. Probably took on some ridiculous contract again."
Free State mercenaries were constantly entangled in wasteland affairs, yet aside from leaving behind heaps of corpses each time, they never seemed to accomplish much of anything—to the point where the Alliance hardly bothered paying them attention.
The reason for their presence here was worth noting, but now was not the time to look for trouble.
Confirming that the group had moved far away without noticing them, Battlefield Guy lightly tugged Penny's hand, signaling her to follow, before parting the bushes to continue down the scouted path...
***
At the very moment the Legion's "envoy" departed Tiandu, Lion King Absaik urgently summoned the other leaders of his faction: Horse King Shahrukh, Leopard King Nigli, and Tiger King Duvata.
The meeting place remained the tent beside the encampment, and the guard at the entrance was still Absaik's most trusted subordinate, Anwo.
The moment he entered the tent, the burly Tiger King Duvata spoke with displeasure.
"Meeting in secret like this bodes no good. With Janusz's paranoid nature, if he finds out, he'll definitely suspect us."
Standing beside him, Leopard King Nigli grinned, raising an eyebrow at him. "What? You scared?"
"Heh," Tiger King Duvata sneered. "If I were scared, would I be risking my neck on this endeavor with you all?"
"Save your breath, both of you. Rather than your nonsense, I'd prefer to hear our esteemed Lion King's brilliant insights... What's so urgent that we had to come to your tent in person?" Horse King Shahrukh turned his gaze toward Absaik. His narrow eyes resembled a cunning fox rather than a horse.
Presently stationed near Tiandu were five Kings: Lion, Horse, Leopard, Tiger, and Ox. Three of them were Absaik's own men, plus himself.
It was their joint effort that pushed Janusz to the forefront and offered him counsel, creating today's Heavenly King Army!
The only one not in their circle was Ox King Ami.
That man was fiercely loyal to Janusz, just as Anwo was to Absaik.
Yet one could never read another's heart; nobody could say for sure whether that loyalty was genuine or feigned.
Not that it mattered.
As long as they were in the same boat, even someone harboring doubts had to help row it forward.
Glancing at the three men present, Absaik spoke in a measured tone.
"Just a moment ago, I met with Bannote's man right here."
The tent fell dead silent, save for the crackling of the stove brewing tea.
Three pairs of eyes stared at him, filled with astonishment and vigilance.
Horse King Shahrukh was the first to speak.
Fixing his gaze on Absaik, he asked softly, "Oh? And what did you discuss?"
Absaik replied calmly, "He showed us a path to survival."
Tiger King Duvata sneered. "Do we need a bunch of cowards whom even the Wilante look down upon to show us the way?"
Absaik did not contest the claim, merely continuing, "Before, we didn't... But the Southern Legion played us. That makes this path crucial."
The three Kings exchanged glances.
Finally, Leopard King Nigli narrowed his eyes at him. "What do you mean?"
Absaik pointed to the photographs on the table. Waiting until they looked over, he continued, "Three cohorts have already arrived. The gear they dragged their feet on delivering to us is piled up in West Sail Port... Need I spell out what they want? We're merely a fire they set; their ambitions are far grander than we imagined."
Astonishment broke out across the faces of the Tiger and Leopard Kings.
The Horse King hurried over to the table, picked up the stack of photographs, and flipped through them quickly.
Surprise gave way to growing gravity.
Given the technology outside Brahma Province, one couldn't rule out the possibility that these photos were doctored.
Yet if they were real, they were in tremendous trouble...
Verifying their authenticity wouldn't be difficult; sending someone to look would suffice.
Horse King Shahrukh looked up at Absaik, swallowing hard. "...Could they really swallow the entire Brahma Province?"
Brahma Province held over a hundred million people!
Ruling this land wasn't as simple as coloring in a map.
Absaik nodded slowly. "I thought they were mad too... but as things stand, that seems to be precisely what they intend."
Hearing this, the expressions of the three Kings changed completely, a heavy grimness settling on every face.
They had ambition, certainly—otherwise they wouldn't have rebelled.
Yet that didn't change the fact that, as former soldiers, they genuinely harbored hopes of transforming the Empire.
If it meant dragging the entire Empire down as a burial sacrifice for their ideals and ambitions, they weren't capable of such extremity.
"...Mr. Bannote is still willing to help us?" Doubt lingered in Horse King Shahrukh's eyes as he asked skeptically.
Absaik lowered his voice. "He is indeed very disappointed in us. After all, we betrayed him and killed so many Wilante. Rationally speaking, however, he doesn't want the Legion dragged down by people like us. That would cost far more lives and likely cause everything he worked for to go up in smoke..."
Leopard King Nigli said in a deep voice, "What is this path to survival he pointed out? Frankly, it's too late to turn back now. We can't let Janusz remain on that throne. The moment he frees up his hands, we'll be the first on the chopping block!"
"Indeed, you're right. Janusz must die, and he deserves to die." Absaik nodded, looking at the three Kings. "They want us to strike as soon as possible, change our banner, and defect to the Alliance."
Shock appeared on all three faces.
Not merely because of defecting to the Alliance, but even more so because of striking "as soon as possible."
They had planned to switch sides, but only after the Heavenly King Army thoroughly toppled the Empire, surely?
Leopard King Nigli frowned deeply. "Strike before the civil war ends? If we descend into internal chaos right now, who knows what will happen to the seven Kings fighting out in the field!"
Absaik said coldly, "We can't worry about them now. We must switch banners immediately, liquidate Janusz, and sever all ties with the Heavenly King Army."
"Will the Alliance accept us?" Horse King Shahrukh quickly asked the question that mattered most to him.
Compared to the seven Kings out in the field, the new master's attitude was his top priority.
Absaik shook his head. "I don't know, but Bannote promised me they've reached an understanding with the Alliance. The Alliance will help keep the forces within their sphere of influence in check, halting our ongoing civil war until the Legion withdraws."
Horse King Shahrukh gritted his teeth, weighing the pros and cons carefully before looking up again. "That sounds promising... Time is precisely what we need. But the question is, will the Alliance keep its word?"
Absaik fell silent for a moment, then spoke truthfully. "If they don't keep their word, they'll have to face the Legion alone... I'm not a hundred percent certain, but compared to the Southern Legion stabbing us in the back, the Alliance has far more reason to honor its promise."
By this point, he was no longer naive enough to believe he was the only clever player on the board.
Weighing the options, however, the Alliance did seem considerably more trustworthy.
Silence descended upon the tent once more as the three Kings pondered anxiously.
About ten minutes passed.
This time, it was Tiger King Duvata, quiet for so long, who broke the silence.
"When do we strike?"
He uttered only those words, yet his resolute tone indicated he was fully prepared.
Seeing that the other two Kings raised no objection and merely looked on in silence, Absaik felt a surge of relief and revealed the plan he had harbored for so long.
"When the Alliance envoys arrive..."
"We must first let them see Janusz's true face, and then show that we are different from him."
***
Night flowed quietly, and Tiandu passed another peaceful evening without incident.
The three Kings slipped back to their respective tents, launching into feverish preparations for the upcoming operation.
In truth, elaborate preparations were hardly necessary.
The Heavenly King Army was itself a massive rabble. Far from having intricate webs of connections or interests, even their internal command hierarchy hadn't been fully straightened out. Swapping leaders was actually simple.
Take a crew of trusted confidants sharing the same boat, and eliminate the old boss.
As long as one had the stomach for it.
Never mind days—a few hours were more than enough...
While undercurrents surged through Tiandu, after three full days of waiting, the Alliance envoy finally arrived in Tiandu under the desperate anticipation of Heavenly King Janusz.
Flanked by a welcoming party, the four rookies strutted grandly through Tiandu's western gate.
To ensure not a single grain of dirt offended the Alliance "dignitaries," Janusz had driven out every resident along the entire street from the west gate to the palace, replacing them with his own men sporting herbal plaster bandages on their arms.
Janusz was doomed to disappointment, however.
These "dignitaries" paid zero attention to the actors lining the street; their focus was entirely fixed on the "palace" hovering in midair.
"Damn... using a starship as a palace."
"Absolute fucking geniuses!"
Masturbating Dog and Shit-Stirring Stick couldn't help roasting the sight, while Battle-Hardened Wolf stared wide-eyed, doing nothing but snapping photos.
Though they had heard about it on the forums, hearsay was nothing compared to the shock of seeing it in person!
As for Farsighted Eagle, he chatted with the Heavenly King Army's master of ceremonies the entire way, cheerfully extracting quite a bit of intelligence amid laughs and banter.
The group was courteously escorted to the main hall of the palace, where they soon met the legendary Heavenly King.
True to the rumors, the man was articulate and possessed immense eloquence—otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to hoodwink so many into following him to the death.
After polite pleasantries, Janusz, seated upon his throne, launched into an endless discourse about his grand dreams.
Including how he planned to build an egalitarian utopia across the land of Brahma Province.
Including how he planned to achieve this dream, and so forth.
The earlier polite small talk had seemed merely a prelude for this grand spiel.
Once he finished detailing his vision of utopia, Janusz immediately followed up with his hope to establish diplomatic ties with the Alliance and secure its backing.
Translating those high-sounding words into plain terms: *Daddy, send money!*
Beyond money, there were arms, grain, and other supplies the Heavenly King Army desperately needed.
According to this Heavenly King, they requested these provisions not to fight their own kin, but to resist the Legion currently landing at West Sail Port.
If Farsighted Eagle hadn't seen whose weapons these guys carried and how they treated their own people upon entering Tiandu, he might genuinely have bought the man's lies.
Want to milk the Alliance for gold?
Kid, you're way too green!
Finally waiting for the man to run out of breath, Eagle sighed softly and spoke.
"I apologize, Mr. Janusz, but we cannot grant your requests."
The grand rhetoric caught in Janusz's throat.
His eyes widened, staring at him, before he finally managed to squeeze out words. "Why?"
Without waiting for the Alliance envoy to answer, he pressed on agitatedly, "You advocate for equality, and so do we! Why won't you recognize us?!"
He was genuinely growing frantic.
Had he not been driven to his wit's end, he wouldn't have gone to such lengths just to meet a handful of envoys.
For the Janusz Empire to survive in the cracks, it had to constantly maneuver between the Legion and the Alliance, exploiting each party's pain points to bargain.
That was the strategy he had conceived from the start.
The Heavenly King Army had to feign an alignment with the Alliance while using that as leverage to demand "recognition" from the Legion, preventing the Legion from tearing up its treaties with the Alliance and the Enterprise to march in directly.
If the Alliance didn't step in, the meager forces at his disposal were nowhere near enough to wrestle with the Legion!
Farsighted Eagle sighed, explaining patiently, "Esteemed Mr. Janusz, you may have misunderstood. The Alliance is neither a nation nor a religion..."
"What we care about is not what slogans you chant, but whether the basic rights of survival of the survivors here are genuinely protected."
There was another line he left unsaid.
The current Heavenly King Army clearly could not represent the survivors of Brahma Province; those survivors were far more like coerced hostages than willing followers.
The Alliance didn't particularly care whether the ruler was a chieftain, a king, or a president, but it certainly wouldn't strike a deal with "kidnappers."
In that regard, this Heavenly King was no different from Zhalas in the Southern Sea.
Only the name was different.
Janusz clenched his fists. "How else should they be protected? I already distributed the land to them! Must I spoon-feed them too?!"
Farsighted Eagle nodded. "That is commendable. But you gave them the land with a single word... and with a single word, couldn't you take it back?"
Janusz froze. "Then what do you want?"
Farsighted Eagle advised patiently, "Everything must be done step by step. If you truly wish to become like us, you don't need to copy our end result immediately. You can start by guiding them in farming, feeding the people here, dressing them in clean clothes, educating them... So that those who must rely on the land to survive today can freely leave the red soil that binds them tomorrow."
Janusz let his tense shoulders drop, leaning against the cold, hard throne as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Those are matters for after the war is won. Once things stabilize, we will naturally do them..."
Seeing the man still painting castles in the air, Eagle shook his head helplessly.
Perhaps the Administrator was right.
They truly ought to minimize interference with the locals and leave their future in their own hands as much as possible.
Lying seemed to be an innate ability for the people here.
Just as a cuckoo chick instinctively knew at birth to heave the other bird's eggs out of the nest with its fragile back.
It was like an instinct.
An instinct that animals were forced to evolve to survive Darwinian law.
Their nature might not be inherently evil, but the harsh wasteland environment had driven them to this point.
A sharp blade could not kill an ideal, but a lie could.
And with utmost ease.
"...Yes, you can certainly wait until the Wasteland Era ends to do those things. But if certain promises cannot be honored now, I suspect there's no need to think about them later."
Pausing, Eagle looked at Janusz, at this Heavenly King of the Heavenly King Army.
"In truth, you don't need our recognition at all. We have never endorsed any entity, nor have we forced any survivor faction to be identical to us. If the survivors here spontaneously form an administrative system similar to ours, we would be more than happy to share our experience with you..."
Janusz stood up from his chair in excitement. "We are willing to be just like you!"
Old Wolf, who had remained silent the whole time, finally couldn't resist chiming in.
"Then release those Sun Clan people from the dungeons first, and revoke the orders you issued earlier... We aren't blind, we have eyes. Do those two things, and we might just believe you!"
Janusz said without hesitation, "Those are criminals of the Empire! How could I release them just like that? What would the others think?"
Old Wolf continued in broken Human Alliance language, "What about the Moon Clan? They surely have nothing to do with this, right?"
Janusz hesitated. He wanted to nod, but remembered that many of the women awarded to his subordinates were Moon Clan.
He didn't care about those prizes, but now was not the time to touch them.
After a brief silence, he said in a softened tone, "That is an issue left over from the previous regime and takes time to resolve. As you know, touching one hair moves the whole body; one cannot make reckless decisions off the cuff... However, I can promise you that once we reclaim the entire Empire, we will immediately abolish every unequal policy from the imperial era."
He wasn't lying on this point.
Once he reclaimed the entire Empire, he would have free hands to deal with the thugs who had helped him conquer it.
As for now, the time was not ripe.
The corner of Old Wolf's mouth twitched.
Damn.
Talk about selective "off-the-cuff" decisions.
He was still too green; these NPCs were more devious than real humans.
Sensing the stiffening atmosphere in the hall, Eagle stepped in to steer the conversation.
"...Let us conclude today's meeting here. We took a boat all the way here, then switched to horse-drawn carriages and ox carts; we are thoroughly exhausted. Moreover, there are matters we need to discuss with our rear command. We cannot make decisions on our own."
Their objective had been met; there was no need to rush things now.
Barring any accidents, the Legion's envoy should have already made contact with Absaik's side.
All they needed to do now was wait quietly for the latter's decision...
Meanwhile, their side would also try to track down that man Anwo to recover the evidence of Absaik and his cohorts conspiring with the Southern Legion.
That evidence was like the Baiyue Company's survey report on the living conditions of survivors at the Lowell Camp—not necessarily something they would use in the end, but something they had to hold in their hands.
It was a deterrent.
And a final card to play should they have a falling-out.
Janusz didn't press them to stay either, settling back onto his throne and adopting an affable tone. "Please go and rest, everyone. Ah, by the way... we have prepared a palace for your stay."
Clearly, he had not given up.
A handful of envoys couldn't decide anything anyway; the final call rested with Dawn City.
Leaving a good impression on the envoys was crucial right now, which was precisely why he had gone to such lengths.
Eagle inclined his head slightly. "We appreciate the thought, but we have already booked a hotel in the suburbs."
Janusz laughed heartily upon hearing this, saying with utmost warmth, "Those inns are for traveling merchants—they don't even have piped hot water! How could we let distinguished guests like you stay there? Besides the palace, I've also arranged some local specialty entertainment for you all. I'm certain you will enjoy it..."
Those were exceptional beauties collected by Wutuo, some of whom not only Wutuo hadn't touched, but even he hadn't touched yet, saved specifically to entertain special guests.
Naturally, the culture of Brahma Province was subtle, and he didn't state it bluntly.
Yet the subtext and suggestive tone made his meaning abundantly clear.
He planned to give them a taste of the good life.
Masturbating Dog, who had been staring at the subtitles the whole time, snapped his head up and looked at the NPC in pleasant surprise.
"Holy shit, for real?!"
Previously he had always cursed in Chinese, but this time he actually managed to squeeze out the words in his clumsy Human Alliance language.
Beside him, Old Stick jumped in shock, hurriedly yanking his sleeve.
"Holy fuck, you want to lose your helmet or what?!"
Old Dog looked blank. "???"
Unable to understand their exchange, Janusz merely laughed and winked at the receptive envoy.
"Real as can be... Rest assured, leave it to me. I have exquisite taste."
Glancing at Old Dog, who was caught in an intense internal dilemma, Eagle coughed and said, "No, no, thank you... The killing intent here is too heavy. I've been coughing ever since I walked in; I certainly won't be able to sleep tonight."
He still possessed some baseline principles.
Besides, when this was something that could be settled with money, why gamble away a gaming helmet?
That wasn't how one sought thrills.
Janusz was stunned, completely failing to understand what killing intent had to do with coughing.
Why hadn't he felt any killing intent?
Though he had been feeling a bit drained these past few days.
Seeing Eagle decline, he quickly smiled and pressed on, "You're being far too polite! The survivors of Brahma Province are immensely hospitable toward you. Wouldn't it be a shame if you didn't experience it—"
Before his words could finish, they were cut short by hurried footsteps barging into the main hall.
"Enough of your nonsense, Janusz!"
"Standing at the door, I could already smell the putrid stench wafting off you!"
Hearing that thunderous roar, the master of ceremonies spun toward the entrance. Upon seeing the man standing there, he took fright, nearly collapsing onto the floor.
A military officer in a crisp uniform stood at the hall's entrance, backed by a contingent of heavily armed soldiers.
They advanced aggressively, reeking of fierce killing intent, like a pack of savage wolves.
Now Janusz finally understood what killing intent was—it was written clearly across the faces of these men.
Because the disruption had unfolded so abruptly and taken everyone by surprise, Janusz and the Alliance representatives alike froze on the spot, unable to fathom what was happening.
The guards inside the hall immediately surged forward, intending to draw their weapons and confront the intruders, only to find themselves staring down the barrels of numerous "Blade" assault rifles.
Glancing at the sidearms on their hips, and then at the overwhelming firepower facing them, they could only push their guns back into their holsters in humiliation, frozen in the motion of drawing, not daring to twitch.
These people had come prepared!
Even their safeties were already off!
Janusz's eyes went wide. Clasping the armrests of the throne tightly, he slapped the armrest and shot to his feet.
"Audacious! Who the hell are you?!"
Stared down by those ferocious eyes, Anwo glared right back without flinching.
"My name is Anwo."
"Anwo? What kind of nameless nobody—"
Before Janusz could finish, a loud gunshot cut him off.
His eyes bulged in disbelief as he looked down at the bleeding hole in his chest, slumping onto the throne.
His brain seized up, countless memories flashing through his mind like a revolving lantern.
Suddenly, something struck him—he seemed to glimpse the fleeting truth, yet it was already too late to speak.
Too late!
*Bang! Ping—!*
Pistol in hand, Anwo steeled his heart and pulled the trigger a second time at his chest, followed by a third, a fourth... emptying the entire magazine.
The sharp gunshots echoed through the palace like tolling church bells.
The surrounding guards and the master of ceremonies watched helplessly as their brilliant, mighty Heavenly King convulsed upon the throne like an electrocuted kangaroo, finally slumping lifelessly into a pool of blood.
Like a discarded rag.
Dead silence fell over the hall. Not a sound could be heard.
Dead...
The Heavenly King was dead just like that?!
Less than a week after he took the imperial throne...
Everyone, including Farsighted Eagle, Shit-Stirring Stick, and the other Alliance envoys, was utterly dazed by this abrupt upheaval.
Especially the former.
He knew about Absaik's conspiracy, having shared intelligence with Pangolin, yet he hadn't anticipated that this so-called conspiracy would simply be a pistol.
Wasn't this a bit too crude and blunt?!
Of course.
For these men to barge all the way in without hindrance, an unseen hand was clearly pulling the strings behind the scenes.
Eagle's mind raced, rapidly sorting through all the known clues.
Anwo's chest heaved violently as he glared fixedly at the corpse, before violently hurling the gun to the floor.
Like a true hero.
Steeling himself, he bellowed at the now-mute corpse and the blood-soaked throne.
"I rebelled to change the heavens for the Empire! Not to replace it with a gutless coward like you!"
"The crime is mine alone! Do with me as you please!"
He knew very well that he would not die.
Absaik wouldn't let him die—at least not in this scene of the play.
This was what his "advisor and coreligionist" Isher had told him.
The moment his voice trailed off, chaotic footsteps echoed from outside the hall.
Around a hundred men rushed in, raising their rifles with menacing intensity to surround the twenty-some soldiers standing by the doorway.
"What the fuck have you done?! Do you have any idea what you've done?!" The centurion leading them glared with bloodshot eyes, his muzzle locked onto Anwo.
Anwo impassively held out both hands.
"I know perfectly well what I've done. I plead guilty, but I feel no regret."
"Everything is for the thousand clans of Brahma Province."
The centurion ground his teeth for a long while, but ultimately refrained from violence, merely producing chains to cuff the man before him.
The remaining twenty-odd soldiers offered no resistance either, tossing their weapons to the ground and surrendering alongside their millurion, Anwo, before being pressed to the floor.
A moment later, hurried footsteps echoed outside the hall once more, and a figure dropped to his knees before the throne with a heavy thud.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty—!"
The man wept his heart out, forehead pressed tightly to the floor as he slammed his fists against the stone.
Even the surrounding guards and master of ceremonies looked upon the sight with pity.
Masturbating Dog glanced at Stick beside him, lowering his voice to a whisper.
"I bet this guy is Absaik."
Stick chuckled softly.
"Then you bet wrong."
Old Dog looked at him in surprise. "Huh?"
Stick tilted his head slightly, whispering into his ear, "This isn't a palace drama; they probably won't set up another Heavenly King. But switching banners outright wouldn't convince the masses... Just watch. This first one on stage is probably here to play the bad cop, while Absaik, the good cop, is still preparing behind the curtain."
It wasn't an entirely worn-out script, but it certainly wasn't novel either.
Though the play had only just begun, he could already see how it would end...
Chapter 837