Events unfolded exactly as Old Stick had anticipated: the person kneeling on the ground wailing in grief was indeed not Absaik, but a fellow known as the Horse King.
The man wept loudly at first, trembling with fury, then drew his sidearm and leveled it straight at the assassin, Anwo.
Everyone present jumped in fright.
Even Anwo, who knew full well this was an act, felt his heart leap into his throat, terrified that this bastard might turn fiction into reality and silence him for good.
Yet, remembering Ishel's instructions and Absaik's promises, he maintained a composed, unyielding front, steeling himself and standing motionless where he was.
"Holy shit, this guy can't die..."
Seeing that their quest objective was about to bite the dust, Dog Brother gasped in a low whisper, his eyes flashing frantic signals to Eagle beside him, asking what they should do.
Old Stick, however, chuckled softly and coaxed in an undertone, "Relax, he won't die."
How could a quest objective ever die during a cutscene?
Eagle thought so too, but he dared not gamble on the odds. Answering Old Dog's silent plea, he took a step forward and spoke up in fluent Human Alliance language:
"Ahem! Everyone calm down. Whatever grievances you have... do you think we're invisible?"
I'm an envoy of the Alliance, damn it!
Even if this envoy status is somewhat watered down, the Alliance's brand ought to carry some weight, right?
As if hearing his inner voice, the words seemed to have an effect.
The Horse King indeed "calmed down" slightly, lowering the trembling muzzle by an inch, though without dropping it entirely.
Right then, hurried footsteps echoed from outside the grand hall. Absaik, the Lion King, finally arrived—fashionably late.
Though the coup had been orchestrated entirely by his own hand, seeing Janusz slumped on the throne with eyes wide and blank still caused Absaik's heart to clench.
The man who proclaimed himself the "Sole King Under Heaven" had met such an abrupt, undignified end...
That face, contorted in agony, seemed to warp slowly in his vision until it vaguely resembled his own.
This was not a good omen.
He did not doubt that he had done the right thing, but he may have set a very, very terrible precedent.
Absaik took a deep breath, banishing the spine-chilling hallucination from his mind, and turned to the Horse King.
"Shahrukh, calm down... Put the gun down first."
The Horse King glared fiercely at Anwo, but ultimately engaged the safety and tossed the gun to the floor.
Anwo finally exhaled in relief, oblivious to the fact that his back was drenched in cold sweat.
Even though he knew Shahrukh was a frontline veteran who would never let a gun misfire by accident, having a firearm with the safety off aimed directly at him still turned his legs to jelly.
It was pure human instinct.
The spot where the barrel had pointed felt as though a hole had already been bored clean through it...
Absaik then looked toward Eagle and the other Alliance envoys, bowing deeply.
"My apologies. This was meant to be a moment celebrating the friendship between the survivors of Brahma Province and River Valley Province, yet such a tragedy has occurred on so solemn an occasion... On behalf of the survivors of Brahma Province, I offer you our deepest apologies, and I sincerely hope for your understanding.
"Please trust me. We will give you an explanation for this!"
Hearing these high-sounding platitudes, Eagle could not help rolling his eyes internally.
*You think I don't know you're putting on a show?*
Still, choosing this exact moment to stage it was something he truly had not anticipated.
Chances were that even Battlefield Guy, who had fanned the flames behind the scenes, hadn't expected these people to be so reckless and act with such ruthless decisiveness.
After composing his feelings for a second, Eagle reined in the shocked expression on his face and spoke in a moderate tone.
"This is an internal matter of yours, and we have no intention of interfering. However, I still hope you can resolve problems in a more civilized manner rather than resorting to bloodshed at every turn... And frankly, I'm a bit rattled right now. A man who was speaking with us just moments ago has died right before our eyes. I imagine my companions feel the same way."
"I truly am sorry!"
Absaik kept his head bowed, his voice earnest.
"I fully understand your feelings at this moment, but I can promise you that establishing an egalitarian nation in Brahma Province was not the ideal of the late Heavenly King alone; it is the shared dream of us all. Even though he is gone, we will continue walking the rest of the path on his behalf."
Pausing, he added:
"Furthermore, our attitude and stance toward the Alliance and toward you remain unchanged. His promises to you remain valid, and we still yearn for your recognition."
Looking at the earnest-faced Absaik, Eagle was silent for a moment before sighing.
"Janusz made us no promises. However... if you truly yearn for our recognition, then at least make some changes worthy of being recognized.
"As for today's meeting, let us end it here. I imagine you also need time to deal with the immediate chaos and decide how to proceed from here."
With that, he exchanged glances with his companions, and the group walked toward the exit of the hall, temporarily removing themselves from this den of trouble...
***
It had started with a fire in a warehouse, which then spread across the entire port, engulfed the whole settlement, swept through half of Brahma Province like an uncontainable blaze, and finally came to a hasty close in a sudden downpour.
Such was the fate of most wildfires.
In the eras before civilization was born, the flames roaring across the wilderness were nothing more than nature's cycle, ignited by a thunderclap and ultimately extinguished beneath cascading storms of thunder.
The Heavenly King's Army was no different.
Its birth had not been entirely accidental; it carried an inevitability of its own.
The thousand pillars standing in the City of a Thousand Pillars had jolted awake once, like a sudden cold sweat in the middle of the night.
They had attempted to shake off the curse wound around them, to pull themselves free from that bloody soil, shaking mountains and forests, sending beasts and birds fleeing, making the entire land tremble...
Everything seemed to have succeeded.
At the very least, it had been spectacular.
Yet at the very moment meant for rejoicing, a few of those pillars suddenly realized with a shock that what bound them had never truly been the gory crimson beneath their feet; rather, it was the roots plunged deep into the earth, and the countless hands gripping them tightly without letting go.
That was the red earth in their hearts...
Or perhaps, their souls.
For an entire day, all of Tiandu was steeped in dread and anxiety.
One second, the Heavenly King's Army was celebrating the arrival of the Alliance delegation, and the next, everything grew taut and menacing for reasons no one understood.
It was as though the playing music had abruptly cut out, and the game of tag with ghosts had begun.
Plasters and bandages were swapped from left arms to right; waves of fully armed soldiers raced through the streets one after another.
Their objectives were clear, their movements swift.
The whirlwind of commotion was even greater than on the night they stormed the palace!
Only this time, no one knew who they were attacking, or whom they were out to kill...
People exchanged furtive glances on the streets, daring not utter a word, let alone linger.
Peddlers packed up their stalls, shops closed their doors, and households bolted their windows tight, terrified of making the slightest sound.
The once-bustling marketplaces became deserted, desolate as the mass graves outside the walls, with only a few rats and roaches darting out from dark corners now and then.
The populace spent the entire day in nail-biting suspense. Not until noon the next day did news finally leak out: the captain of Janusz's royal guard had committed suicide to escape punishment, and three of his six handpicked cabinet ministers had been carted off, supposedly on charges of looting on the night the city fell.
Even the survivors in Tiandu who had suffered that night's wartime pillaging found this excuse absurd.
Who hadn't dipped their hands into the loot when the city fell that night? If that were truly the reason, far more than three would have faced the firing squad!
Sure enough, an even more explosive bombshell was waiting: Janusz, their cheaply crowned Heavenly King, was dead!
No one had imagined he would die.
And even more unthinkable was that he had been shot dead on the throne right in front of the Alliance envoys, during their official audience, by a Millurion named Anwo!
The Janusz dynasty, established less than a week prior, came crashing down just like that...
***
"Extra, extra! Big news from Tiandu! Janusz is dead!!"
In the port district of Golden Gallon Port, booming shouts and scurrying footsteps startled a flock of seagulls into flight.
A newsboy with a satchel slung over his shoulder cried at the top of his lungs as he sprinted through the streets.
Hearing those cries, passersby—whether dressed in long robes or short shirts—halted in their tracks, turning startled eyes toward the boy.
Janusz?!
That Heavenly King...
Dead?!
People crowded forward, hands reaching eagerly, stripping the satchel bare in moments.
Suni, who worked as a foreign teacher at a nearby school, happened to be walking past. Seeing everyone scrambling for the extra edition, he squeezed into the crowd to get one as well.
"One for me too!"
Tossing four gallons into the boy's hand, he hurriedly took the paper, glanced down, and his eyes instantly widened.
*Another Mutiny in Tiandu! Janusz Shot Dead by Eight Bullets!*
Good heavens.
The headline alone was vastly more intriguing than that earlier interview with the "Last Emperor"!
[...At noon the day before yesterday, during an audience with the Alliance delegation, Heavenly King's Army leader Janusz was shot and killed in the throne room of the imperial palace by his subordinate Millurion, Anwo!
Reportedly, this man was a reformist officer within the Heavenly King's Army. Having been influenced by publications printed by the Silver Moon Church and relevant works of the Workers' Association during his time in West Sail Port, he advocated the abolition of imperial rule and championed unity, and was thus deeply outraged by Janusz's reactionary measures.
Coinciding with the arrival of the Alliance envoys in Tiandu, Janusz spun glib sophistries—arguing slavery into equality, whitewashing villainy as nobility, and absurdly claiming that vice and virtue were one and the same. Pushed beyond all endurance, Anwo drew his weapon, burst into the hall, and executed him on the spot.
This editor personally believes that while vigilantism is admittedly improper, his heroic spirit of sacrificing oneself for righteousness cannot fail to elicit a thumbs-up.
All are equal before the 10mm; though one's power may rival the heavens, none can stop a bullet.
All who commit sordid deeds in the name of justice ought to shudder upon hearing of Anwo's righteous deed!
At present, Anwo has been cast into prison; his fate remains unknown for the moment.
However, that gunshot in the imperial palace sparked calls among reformists within the Heavenly King's Army to "cleanse the ranks and draw a clear line."
Certain radical reformist officers took the initiative, launching armed protests to voice support for Anwo and initiating purges against Janusz's cronies and feudal remnants of his faction.
According to informed sources, a host of Janusz-faction officers, including Ox King Ami of the Heavenly King's Army, were executed by firing squad in this purge.
In addition, over ten thousand rank-and-file soldiers and mid-level officers implicated were swept up in the crackdown.
Local residents reacted to this purge with relative calm. Rumor has it that most of the deceased were thugs who had committed atrocities in West Sail Port and Tiandu, earning no sympathy from local residents, many of whom even clapped and cheered.
After two continuous days of turmoil, the situation in Tiandu is now under the complete control of General Absaik, representative of the reformist officers, and stability has largely been restored as of this reporting.
According to General Absaik's public address, he possesses no ambition for the imperial throne and wishes only for the light of union to shine upon Brahma Province. Borrowing the concept of union from the Golden Gallon Port Union, he has established the Brahma Union.
As for himself, he will serve as the Union's first president and the first leader of the "State of Brahma."
Meanwhile, senior reformist officers such as Shahrukh, Nigli, and Duvata have assumed high-ranking posts within the Union and are frontrunners to become the next leader.
According to the resolutions of the Brahma Union, all decisions from the Janusz era will be repealed, and slavery will be abolished entirely.
Henceforth, whether of the Sun Clan or the Moon Clan, all shall share the common identity of residents of Brahma Province and enjoy equal personal freedom and rights across this land.
Beyond abolishing slavery, General Absaik's initiatives include introducing public education, convening industry representatives to form committees, exempting agricultural taxes, converting the imperial mint into a joint-stock bank, and encouraging women to participate in production.
Furthermore, they specifically phoned our newspaper to welcome the establishment of a Tiandu branch, aiming to strengthen exchanges between the survivors of Tiandu and Golden Gallon Port.
Evaluating this from an objective standpoint, compared to Janusz's reckless distribution of feudal titles and duplicitous compromises, the Brahma Province Union has displayed a markedly firmer determination for reform.
Though the future remains uncertain, they are at least willing to honor their commitments starting now and welcome our oversight.
Yet while their sincere desire for progress moves all who hear of it, one cannot help but sweat on their behalf.
Such sweeping, earth-shaking reforms will hardly be easy to implement in practice.
Furthermore, following the sudden demise of the Heavenly King, the reformist officers' unilateral move to establish the State of Brahma and break with the old banner has left the Heavenly King's Army essentially leaderless.
Aside from the five army groups involved in the mutiny or incorporated, seven army groups remain in the field, currently fighting the remnants of the old Xilan Empire under the banner of the Janusz dynasty.
These seven armies number over a million men and are outfitted with extensive standard-issue Legion gear, remaining a formidable force on the soil of Brahma Province.
Faced with Tiandu changing hands once more and their erstwhile allies switching banners, what choices the "Kings" of these seven armies will make remains to be seen.
Reporters and editors from this paper will continue tracking and reporting more news regarding the State of Brahma!]
Having read the entire report from beginning to end, Suni finally had a grasp of what had transpired in Tiandu over this period. The look in his eyes was half joy, half worry.
He could tell that the editor of *Survivor Daily* must have felt immense excitement when penning this extra edition.
It was like sitting at a desk writing and happening to glance up to see a swallow darting past the window.
He felt the same way.
Although he was a resident of Ring Island from the South Sea Alliance, he had been teaching and mentoring here for nearly half a year, and had developed feelings for this land.
He had even come to think of it as his second home.
Yet precisely for that reason—precisely because he understood so well what the people here truly thought in their hearts—he could not conceal the thread of sorrow woven through his joy.
Just as the newspaper said, carrying out such sweeping reforms would be anything but easy.
Every single decision Absaik made required money, and added together, the total was virtually astronomical; even pooling all the wealth in Brahma Province and tacking on an extra zero might not suffice.
Could things really be that simple?
"...Education is of paramount importance. I only hope that, win or lose, this doesn't chill the confidence and passion in the hearts of Brahma Province's survivors."
He sighed softly, folded the paper in half, tucked it into his briefcase, and resumed walking toward the school where he taught.
And as he crossed Tulip Street, he caught sight of military trucks belonging to the Alliance driving from the port warehouse area toward the suburban military base.
The truck beds were loaded with crates painted green, containing ammunition without a shadow of a doubt.
Over the past few days, a significant amount of heavy equipment had landed at the port, including tanks and self-propelled artillery.
Clearly, this was the Alliance's response to the Legion reinforcing its western front.
Having lived through a civil war himself, an ominous premonition suddenly arose in his heart.
War.
It was drawing ever closer...
***
Suni was not the only one who smelled gunpowder. Brahma Province never lacked smart people, nor those who were too clever for their own good.
Wutuo, floating near the inland river port of Golden Gallon Port, was the best proof.
Even the slowest-witted Emperor himself could tell that the end was near, let alone everyone else.
Lately, survivors had been disembarking from the Everflowing River in continuous streams, and locals were steadily leaving Golden Gallon Port for the sunny, pleasant Baiyue Strait or the waiting-to-be-rebuilt Haiya Province. As a result, the Alliance's settlements had been forced time and again to raise the bar for obtaining ID cards, drawing criticism from some representatives that they were undergoing "Ideal City-ization."
This was indeed a serious critique; after all, the Alliance operated under the banner of uniting all suffering survivors, and raising the requirements for ID cards undoubtedly meant shutting out those very people.
Yet despite being criticized by Dawn City's representatives, the local representatives had reasons of their own.
After all, the Manager himself had said that one could only unite more people once one had united one's own.
Every community had a carrying capacity determined by local public resources. They couldn't simply dump refugees into the wasteland to fend for themselves, watching them be assimilated into marauders.
In a room meant for two, squeezing in one more might be manageable, but suddenly cramming five or six inside was unbearable for anyone.
The settlements did not oppose aiding survivors, but they could only act within their means according to their own circumstances.
Relieving refugees was the business of the central government.
The reason they supported spending precious tax dollars on stabilizing Brahma Province, and on building hospitals and schools for survivors in Golden Gallon Port, was precisely the hope that fewer refugees would head their way.
Of course, not having them come at all wasn't the goal either—it was just better if they trickled in steadily, bit by bit.
Chu Guang was pleased to see the debates between Dawn City's representatives and the regional delegates, and had chosen not to intervene.
Even if the delegates argued until they were red in the face during meetings, it was never out of deep-seated animosity; their intentions were all aimed at making the Alliance better.
The wisdom of a single individual was inherently limited, even when paired with his little players.
He could not consider every matter with total omniscience, but as long as someone stepped in to refine what he overlooked, that was enough.
Even if something slipped past everyone, it didn't matter; a fall would teach them soon enough.
Being able to get back up was more important than running fast; humans learned to walk and run only through constantly tripping and falling...
Yet while the survivors of Brahma Province racked their brains and fought tooth and nail to push eastward, there were also those who swam against the current.
Like Niyang.
After laying his cards on the table with Duke Garava and resigning his embassy post, he immediately boarded a train to Silver Moon Bay, then transferred to a steamship bound for Mammoth State.
He did not head for Golden Gallon Port.
The people there were doing very well; every industry was flourishing, and art and literature bloomed in profusion. They had no need for him, and his presence would be nothing more than icing on the cake.
Conversely, Mammoth State needed him—or rather, all of Brahma Province needed him!
The failure of the "New Culture" movement in West Sail Port demonstrated many things: the inhabitants of Brahma Province could not arm themselves with borrowed ideas.
The Silver Moon Church was the secularized fruit of Silver Moon Bay's people; it did not even fit the Lion Kingdom, despite sharing culture and ethnicity, let alone a completely foreign land like the Xilan Empire.
The same went for "Boer."
That was a monument erected by the survivors of Boulder City. It could serve as a torch illuminating the path forward, but they had to ignite torches of their own.
The survivors of Brahma Province traced their origins to the Thousand Clans and Thousand Gods; before achieving secularization, they had to confront their own faiths and cultures rather than reduce those imprints to pure nothingness.
In short:
They needed their own newspaper!
And schools!
Only by reclaiming their souls could they have any hope of stepping into a new era!
Stepping off the steamship, Niyang stood on the parish dock, holding a suitcase.
His dust-covered face bore the exhaustion of long travels, but his bright eyes sparkled with vigor.
He had visited Mammoth City once before; the changes here were so drastic that he could hardly recognize it.
Yet it was precisely because of this that he was filled with hope for achieving the purpose of his journey.
Right at that moment, hearty laughter rang out across the port.
"Haha, welcome! Niyang! Or should I call you Mr. Rat instead?"
Pulling his gaze back from the crescent moon atop the distant church roof, Niyang looked toward the sound of the laughter and saw a man in a crisp military uniform striding forward with open arms.
The man was none other than Laxi.
In the flesh, he wasn't particularly handsome, but he was certainly young, and just as dashing and imposing as his front-page photo in the newspapers. Niyang recognized him immediately.
Before coming here, he had indeed sent a letter to the local authorities, but he had never expected Laxi to come down and meet him in person.
"Whatever the general prefers; a name is just a label." Looking at Laxi's fiery enthusiasm, Niyang felt a bit reserved instead; too bashful to return a passionate embrace, he merely extended his right hand.
"Haha! Then your name it is!"
Laxi didn't mind at all, readily withdrawing his open arms and grasping Niyang's hand, shaking it vigorously.
"Brother Niyang—ahem, Mr. Niyang, I'm a rough fellow. Sometimes I don't speak very pretty, so if anything makes you uncomfortable, just speak your mind! You can even curse me out if you like!"
A fervent grin was plastered across his face. If Ah Xin had been here, his jaw would have hit the floor.
After all, this was a guy who wouldn't even share a cup of wine with him, downing one on his own and walking off, yet he treated this man he had just met like an old friend, even talking to him like a brother.
Seeing Laxi's slightly over-enthusiastic manner, Niyang smiled with a touch of bashfulness and teased:
"Since the general puts it that way, I won't stand on ceremony."
Laxi waved a hand with a laugh.
"No need for ceremony! Mammoth State needs people like you!"
He was a rough man.
Apart from fighting, all he could do was copy Golden Gallon Port's homework; he was hopeless at anything else.
Mammoth State's development relied entirely on the support of capable talents from Golden Gallon Port and Silver Moon Bay, and he knew his own limitations well.
Because of that, he desperately craved capable people of Mammoth State's own.
Not to mention a heavyweight like Mr. Rat!
And so, he kept his posture exceedingly humble, perhaps even trying a bit too hard.
Niyang had no idea what was passing through Laxi's mind. Seeing that the general was in good spirits, he seized the opportunity:
"Since the general says so, I'll take the liberty of asking you for two things."
Laxi clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.
"Name them! I'll give you green lights all the way!"
Niyang shook his head.
"A green light isn't necessary; just handling things according to the rules set down in black and white will suffice."
Pausing, he looked at Laxi with earnest intensity.
"There are no shortcuts to salvation; there is only one road, and that is enlightening minds. The two things I've come to Mammoth State to do today are both tied to this: one is opening schools, and the other is running a newspaper."
He had made quite a fortune in the Xilan Empire from *Dawn Garden Newspaper*, and it was time to spend that money on its residents.
Hearing that this gentleman had brought the "solution to the problems" along with him, Laxi beamed with delight.
"No problem! Anyone can do that in Mammoth State, and you certainly can, sir!"
Watching Laxi thump his chest in guarantee, Niyang gave a meaningful smile.
"Then I must lay my cards on the table first. The school I want to run is an institution of higher learning like the one at Camp 101, and the newspaper I want to run is one that dares to speak the truth like *Survivor Daily*. Both of those exist independently outside the Alliance's system, and so I hope mine will likewise exist independently outside Mammoth State's system. Are you willing to part with that control, General?"
Laxi chuckled. "Why wouldn't I be? Not only am I willing, I'll even approve funds for you to do it!"
Niyang shook his head.
"Funds won't be necessary. Earlier... I accumulated some ill-gotten gains, more than enough for this undertaking. Once the school and the newspaper find their footing, covering their own expenses won't be an issue. I have no other requests; I only ask that you write what you've promised into law, or leave me a signed document as proof for the future."
"Consider it done!" Laxi agreed without hesitation, finding nothing amiss with the request.
Hearing this, Niyang breathed a sigh of relief and bowed deeply.
"Then on behalf of the thousand clans of Brahma Province... I thank you."
Seeing Niyang bow to him, Laxi hastily reached out to lift him back up.
"What are you doing! I told you, I'm a rough fellow—I can't take you bowing to me!"
Niyang insisted on finishing his bow before taking a step back.
"No, no, you misunderstand. This is courtesy before force—don't think for a moment that I'm just being polite."
Laxi blinked in surprise, then burst into hearty laughter.
"Hahaha! Courtesy before force—well said! Fine! Then I look forward to learning some tactics from you, sir!"
Watching the two chatting and laughing, the guards standing by the edge of the port exchanged bewildered glances, disbelief plastered across their faces.
Was this really their decisive, blood-and-iron general?
It felt as if he had turned into a completely different person...
Chapter 838