The City Falls

Lion City. A massive breach had torn through its towering city wall. On one side lay scorched earth littered with broken bricks and shattered tiles; on the other, buildings reduced to crumbling ruins. This was the largest settlement in the entire Lion State, even larger than West Sail Port. Many wealthy streets boasted expansive, grand estates, and a number of citizens' dwellings had replaced wooden partitions with walls of stone and cement. Although Wutuo himself had little regard for steel and concrete, his deep reverence for the Wilante had led everyone in Lion State to view the Wilante as surrogate fathers, eagerly aping everything they did from top to bottom. Laying cement walls, plastering surfaces, paving concrete roads, and even reinforcing walls with rebar... all of these were practices the local nobles and wealthy elite had copied from the Wilante. And right now, these reinforced concrete buildings served as some of the few remaining shelters for the Bolo Army. This could be counted as one of the few good things Wutuo had ever done for his "subjects"... Heavy, dark clouds hung low in the sky, while the air on the ground was so stifling it choked the lungs, as though a violent downpour were about to break out. In a low-rise building amid the frontline positions in the southern district lay the Bolo Army's provisional command post. With the assistance of Isher, who had witnessed the firepower of the Clarion with his own eyes, the Bolo officers had finalized their defensive deployments on the front line. In truth, he had no reason to stay here. Not long ago, his former superior, Anwo, had sent a telegram to the front, intending to pull him back to Golden Gallon Port. Anwo hadn't forgotten him after all. Although Anwo had fallen under the suspicion of his old boss, Absaik, the intrigues among the top brass were not enough to reach down and affect a petty Millennium Commander like Isher. Still, Isher hadn't left right away. At the very least, before he left, he needed to share what he had witnessed on the front lines with the other officers. "...The Legion's airship is not invincible. Their cannons are dual-purpose for anti-air and ground assault, mostly small-caliber pieces. Whether they fire cluster munitions, high-explosive shells, or other warheads, they're mainly aimed at simple fortifications and dense soft targets on open plains. "Our allies are helping us intercept the most threatening 902mm heavy artillery and the supplies headed to the front. The enemy's firepower advantage will continually erode under our resistance, until eventually they'll be forced to commit their elite infantry to decide the battle with us in close combat... And if we can drag things out until then, that will be the turning point of this war. "I don't like putting it this way, but our numbers are truly the only thing we can rely on." Isher drew several rough sketches on a chalkboard, outlining the blast scenes, the lethal kill zones and dispersal arcs of various warheads, and potential survival methods. These lessons had been paid for in the blood and lives of his own men. Even as he gave this lecture to the officers, his men had gone down into the ranks, passing on survival techniques to the local defenders. Surviving was paramount. More important even than inflicting casualties on the enemy. As long as the Wilante exhausted all their options and still couldn't wipe them out, the tables would turn. Though his diagrams were crude, the Bolo officers listened with rapt attention. Practical experience was what they lacked the most; what Isher brought back from the front line was precisely what they needed. It wasn't just several Myriad Commanders attending his briefing; even Yudono, General Commander of the Lion State War Zone, was present. Ever since Reedpur County fell, Yudono had abandoned the conspicuous governor's manor. Time had proven his choice right. Shortly after he left, Legion aircraft had carried out an airstrike on the estate. Had he been a step slower, he might already have been sent down to keep his old superior Janusz company. Once the meeting concluded, the officers filed out of the operational command post one after another, heading to their respective defense sectors to prepare for the decisive engagement with the Wilante. Isher was about to leave as well when Yudono held him back alone. "...Thank you. What you brought back is vital to us, but frankly speaking, even with all that, we might not be able to hold this city." Isher answered solemnly, "Doing nothing guarantees we lose it. At the very least, we have to try." "You're right." Yudono let out a sigh, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling before dropping to the floor. "I can feel that you truly love this land. You really want to do something for it." Watching the man's demeanor, Isher was suddenly unsure what to make of those words. He had heard about Yudono's past. Supposedly a servant to some prominent noble in Lion State, he had answered the call of the Heavenly King Army to take up arms, rising meteorically through the ranks until he became Janusz's confidant. Absaik, the Grand Marshall, never trusted him and never summoned him back to Tiandu. While he had been promoted to Commander-in-Chief of the Lion State War Zone, anyone with eyes could see it was nothing more than roasting him over an open fire. If he fled, he would be branded a traitor to the Bolo Republic, with no future left in politics or command. And if he stayed to defend it, death was practically guaranteed. Seeing that Isher didn't reply, Yudono could guess that this sharp young man didn't trust him. He abruptly shifted topics to his former superior. "I remember a long time ago... well, not that long ago really, I once asked Janusz a question: what if the Wilante's interests require all of us to die?" "What did he tell you?" Isher asked. Yudono went on, "...He talked on and on. One moment about liberating the slaves of Bolo Province, the next about how the survivors of West Sail Port would be enough to appease the Wilante's wrath. I don't care to recall every word he spoke, but in essence, it came down to one sentence: history is written by the victors. He believed unconditionally in the law of the jungle. As long as he won, no one would remember what he had done." Isher frowned slightly, though his brow cleared after a moment. "So he deceived you. Do you regret it?" Yudono shook his head. "Nothing to regret. I merely made what I believed to be the right choice. If I had to do it all over again, I'd probably still follow him into rebellion. After all, even if he was foolish in ten thousand ways, he was still ten thousand times better than the likes of Wutuo." Looking at a man even more pessimistic than himself, Isher offered gentle comfort. "Things will get better step by step, just like Boulder City once did. Going from Wutuo to Janusz was already a huge step forward, and now we have Absaik... I'm not professing loyalty; that hypocrite doesn't deserve my allegiance. But haven't you noticed? A few months ago, you wouldn't have dared whisper that Janusz was going too far. Now, at least, I dare tell you openly that Absaik is just a performance artist." Quite a few officers in the Bolo Army cursed Absaik, especially after he confiscated their sidearms. The rank-and-file soldiers felt the same. They lacked uniforms, lacked ammunition, even lacked underwear, while the landowners trading with the warlords grew fat with wealth, each taking three or four wives. If Janusz were still alive, they at least wouldn't have gone without clothes or worried about finding wives. That man stuffed his own face till grease dripped from his chin, but he never hesitated to share a ladle of broth with them. Still, Isher felt things were decent enough as they were. At the very least, he couldn't imagine Janusz establishing public education, setting up factories, or reforming taxes. Janusz might have dabbled in such things, but the outcome would likely have been worse than doing nothing at all. Reforms pushed through by the most extreme reactionaries inevitably turn into performance art done solely for the sake of reform, leaving everyone caught between laughter and tears. If Janusz ever decided to champion equality and ensure everyone had an education, the method he'd conjure up would never be giving land to the tillers and making literacy useful; he'd tear the few existing textbooks in half to distribute them, or simply execute both the illiterate and those who knew too much. If he ever tried his hand at industry or agriculture, it would be an even bigger catastrophe—machinery would likely be melted down for scrap iron, and breeding sows and boars slaughtered indiscriminately in one fell swoop. Isher was only grateful that Anwo had put a bullet in him. Yudono looked at him and smiled faintly. "Janusz isn't dead." Isher froze, then chuckled. "How could that be? Don't make jokes like that. Everyone saw him die. Could he rise from the grave?" Anwo was the one who pulled the trigger. Absaik gave the order, nudged and encouraged him. "No, you don't grasp my meaning," Yudono said, shaking his head. "The Bolo people are Janusz, and Janusz is the Bolo people... On that day, he stood forth and rallies of thousands answered his call. That alone was no Wilante plot; he was who the people truly wanted." "Nobody chose him. You might not know this... but certain people pushed him into power." Isher spoke cryptically; venturing further would touch on confidential matters within the Union. Yudono seemed not to hear, speaking to himself, "You're wrong. No one pushed him. Or rather, whether someone pushed him or not makes no difference—he would still be who he was. Because he was a god on earth, the god in the hearts of the Bolo people." "Is that so? Then this god was certainly stupid enough to play himself to death." Isher gave a dismissive, mocking laugh. "Who said a god has to be wise?" Yudono grinned. "Gods have never been flawless. Be it the Wolf God, the Dog God, or that Sun-Bearing Sacred Bull out of Utopia... Was it wise to reduce the Moon Clan to slaves over a single nonsensical decree? They reaped a few benefits, and most people cheered that they deserved to be killed. Yet it was the Moon Clan who fired the first shot to bring down the empire, and in the end, the one that mauled the empire to death was its most loyal wolf." At that point, Yudono cast a meaningful look at Isher. "Far more than doing the right thing, being recognized as right no matter what you do... that is what makes a god. "I paid a heavy price for selectively forgetting certain things... to the point where I've been abandoned in this city to die. Surviving West Sail Port proves you're no fool, but don't let it get to your head. "This is only the beginning. The massacre of West Sail Port hasn't ended. You already have one foot in the red soil; if you want to stay alive, keep your eyes wide open. "Take this as the parting advice of a dead man... offered because you racked your brains trying to do something for a dead man like me." Isher furrowed his brow. "Are you warning me to watch out for Marshall Absaik?" Yudono fell silent for a beat, then said with profound weight, "Everyone. "If you truly harbor ideals and aren't just spouting empty words like Janusz did, you must watch out for everyone." That quiet, trembling voice flickered like a candle flame in the dark, causing Isher's vision to haze for an instant. He suddenly realized his back was soaked in cold sweat, with no idea where it had come from. Just then, a piercing siren cut through their conversation. The faces of both Isher and Yudono changed drastically. Rushing out the door, they cast their gazes upward into the sky. A colossal airship had already sailed over Lion City! Strictly speaking, it was a fortress wrought of steel. Its core had once soared across the boundless sea of stars, and later generations had cast a new hull around it with outdated weaponry. Its towering silhouette seemed to engulf the entire southern district beneath its shadow, its bristling gun barrels outnumbering the rifles on the ground below. The dread of being dominated by the Clarion washed over Isher once more. This time, however, it didn't open fire. It simply drifted overhead and dropped barrel after pitch-black barrel... There had to be at least a thousand of those black barrels; the terrifying quantity left no time to count. Falling in freefall through the air, they detonated violently just before impact, solid-seeming fire slamming down like inverted bowls to swallow building after building. The flames spread in an instant! More than half the southern district turned into an ocean of fire! Even if the survivors of Lion City had rebuilt some structures in concrete, it couldn't change the reality that most homes were still made of wood. Shrieks and screams rose from the distance in continuous waves. Isher could faintly hear the wails of children, the agonized cries of men and women, and the panicked bleating and baying of livestock. Those who had harbored illusions about the Wilante scrambled frantically toward the city exits. The rumors about West Sail Port were true. The Legion truly couldn't care less whether they lived or died! Some cursed the soldiers for dragging them into ruin; some wept and screamed as they searched for missing children; others shoved aside anyone in their path. "Help!" "Someone help me! My child is pinned under the rubble!" "Ami!! Where are you?!" "Damn it, the chest by my door! No, I have to go back for it!" "What the hell are you thinking about a chest for?! Run for your life!" "Father!!!" Cries and shouts echoed in chaotic pandemonium along the streets, while the crackle and roar of the flames sounded like the silent weeping of ghosts. On the bridge of the airship Clarion, the officer who gave the bombing order sighed, grumbling, "What a waste." Inside his command vehicle, Myriad Commander Ryan curled his lips into a cruel, savage smirk. "Attack," he ordered in a cold voice, looking at an officer beside him. At his command, centurions on the front blew their whistles. Spurred on by the shrill notes, clone infantrymen clutching Ripper rifles roared a charge toward the Bolo Army's positions. "Kill them all!!!" Facing the surging wave of clone troops, the Bolo soldiers guarding the city gates collapsed upon first contact. The southern district had become a living inferno, and that earthly hell was still spreading toward the rest of the city. "...Bastards." Staring straight at the airship, Isher's eyes turned bloodshot. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles whitened, his teeth grinding almost to dust. His mind went completely blank, burning with chaotic fury. For an instant, he even felt bewildered—had rescuing those Wilante soldiers back then truly been the right choice? Just then, Yudono shoved him hard from beside him, sending him stumbling, nearly to the ground. Snapped back to his senses, Isher spun around sharply, only to see the Lion clansman roar at him: "What are you standing there for?! Run!" ... One thousand four hundred napalm bombs. This was the maximum payload capacity of the Clarion, and the Legion airships' deadliest weapon. Whenever a fortress held out too long against their assaults, they resorted to this tactic to force the survivors into submission. An unstoppable airship, coupled with unquenchable infernos, was enough to annihilate both the flesh and spirit of any garrison. This weapon was even more effective than nuclear arms—and worked without fail every time. Not a single living soul could be seen in the southern district anymore, yet the trailing fire continued spreading into other sections of the city. Stationed in the southern district were the Bolo Republic's 4th and 5th Myriads. Both units had retreated from Reedpur County and were already understrength; this single strike wiped them out completely! Leveling their Ripper rifles, clone infantrymen trampled across charred remains and bone, advancing at a brisk stride toward the defensive lines of the 6th and 7th Myriads. As for the Bolo soldiers, after witnessing flames that scorched the very heavens, the morale of the remaining four myriads bordered on utter collapse. Fear of fire was an animal instinct. In the end, they were only mortals. Casualties were not limited to soldiers; the city's inhabitants suffered equally. No one knew exactly how many people perished in this great blaze, and no one ever would. But the count was undeniably staggering. While three Wilante cohorts advanced on Lion City, a research vessel from the Academy hovered at a distance atop a modest hill. In a certain sense, the Academy shared some history with the Wilante. After all, the predecessor of the Academy had been the Technical Department of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, and the Wilante were the "masterpiece" crafted by that Technical Department at the request of the Defense Department. Precisely for this reason, whenever the Wilante cursed Academy researchers as slugs crawling in the marsh, those "slugs" would simply reply with a grin: "I'm your daddy." There was nothing wrong with that claim. Even if it was old history from two centuries ago... Sitting inside the research vessel was Yang Kai from the Research Division, while the holographic projection beside him belonged to Li Ke of the Foreign Affairs Division's Special Project Group. Both were Level-B researchers, a rank already quite high within the Academy; above them were only the Level-A directors of the four divisions and the committee members, followed by the Level-S Chief Technology Officer. As for Dr. Conclusion, that gentleman had no rank at all. "Tsk, tsk. Those big noses are truly ruthless... That bombing run must have claimed at least tens of thousands of lives." Looking at the feed on the holographic display, Yang Kai couldn't help clicking his tongue. Li Ke nodded and sighed from the heart, "If those Defense Department bastards who bossed us around back then were still alive, I wonder if they'd regret that idiotic choice." Yang Kai chuckled. "Isn't one of them still alive?" Li Ke asked, "Who?" Yang Kai took a sip of coffee and said leisurely, "Julius, I believe he's called. The supreme leader of those Wilante." Hearing that name, an expression of sudden realization surfaced on Li Ke's face. "Ah... that guy. It really is possible he's still alive, though that's just a possibility." There were many ways to extend one's lifespan, but two centuries was an extraordinarily long time by any standard. Moreover, the Legion's medical technology lagged far behind the Academy's, and didn't even match those folks on the East Coast. "...At least no one can prove he's dead. Who knows?" Yang Kai shrugged. They had once warned the Defense Department not to treat technology as a panacea for every problem, but those meatheads whose muscles dwarfed their brains clearly hadn't listened at all, forcing everyone to swallow that shit. In the end, nearly all of them died by the hands of the Wilante, dragging many others down with them. He had heard that fellow named Rowell was the exact same way—forcing the researchers under him to cook up something called red soil. While it did save quite a few lives, it was hard to say whether keeping humans alive and breeding like beasts could truly be called salvation. Without exception, every single one of those arrogant fools had paid the price for their stupidity and self-righteousness. Be it the Defense Department or the Post-War Reconstruction Committee. Be it the Human Alliance or Rowell... While history rarely repeated itself in simple terms, it was always eerily similar. Shortly after Yang Kai and Li Ke finished their exchange, Jiang Xuezhou, clad in a bulky protective suit, returned to the research ship. The gear, nearly identical in appearance to a spacesuit, made her look like a bloated snowman. "Mentor, I've finished gathering the data you requested!" "Excellent, good work. Just store it in the server," Yang Kai praised her, casually dragging the holographic screen aside. Allowing the Legion to continue expanding eastward ran contrary not only to the interests of the Enterprise and the Alliance, but to the Academy's as well. According to their agreement with the Alliance, they intended to take part in this war in the form of "technology equity," just as they had joined the space elevator initiative. The Southern Legion had prepared five airships for this invasion; they, too, had prepared a special "grand gift" for the Southern Legion. However, to ensure this gift was delivered squarely into the Legion's hands, they still needed to collect certain critical data. This data mainly pertained to gravitons, which were easiest to measure when the antigravity system underwent major fluctuations in power output. Such as during bomb drops or the loading and unloading of supplies. Glancing at the raging inferno on the holographic display, Jiang Xuezhou couldn't help feeling a tremor of emotion. There must be so many people down there... Noticing the look on his student's face, Yang Kai raised an eyebrow slightly. As if recalling certain matters—especially rumors concerning the "Study Society"—he spoke up with interest: "Are you wondering why we don't do something to stop them?" "...Can't we?" Jiang Xuezhou asked back instinctively, but soon realized her impropriety and bowed her head apologetically. Yang Kai didn't mind, however, merely offering a faint smile. "Setting aside whether we even could, even if we truly possessed the power, we would never waste the effort." Slowly lifting her head, Jiang Xuezhou looked at her mentor in confusion. "Why?" Yang Kai said calmly, "The Academy wasn't built in a day. If you're interested, go read the reports stored in the deepest archives of the library; they're not forbidden secrets. It's not as though we haven't helped wastelander scum before. In fact, we've poked our noses into more matters than anyone else. But have you ever seen a single person thank us?" Jiang Xuezhou fell silent. That seemed true enough. Given the Academy's modus operandi, they were hardly popular across the wasteland. Not that she had ever dreamed of making a name for herself or becoming a hero in people's eyes. Lifting the coffee cup from the tray to take a sip, Yang Kai continued leisurely, "They admire Ideal City, they dread the Legion, and they despise only us, blaming us for hoarding technology. Yet they never stop to think: a single Shelter 117 was capable of tearing through two whole provinces. What would happen to them if we didn't contain that technology? Would they be living in luxury, using exoskeletons and cybernetics for daily commutes? No, they'd just be hunted down by deathclaws clad in exoskeletons, just like they were butchered like hogs by mutants in Haiya Province. "I'd even bet that even though the Alliance is staking their very lives to help them, there will certainly be people afterward blaming the Alliance—asking why they didn't save more, why they stood by while that city burned. Meanwhile, the ones who created the problem and the root cause itself might end up forgiven instead." How could that be? Jiang Xuezhou wanted to ask, but the words caught in her throat. After a long pause, she phrased it differently. "...Still, I think the people you speak of probably wouldn't care." Like Ye Shi. In her memory, that optimistic man always carried a sunny smile on his face, never shrinking or wavering no matter what circumstances he faced. That optimism and courage were precisely what she admired most in him—along with his kindness. If it were him, he probably wouldn't take such grievances to heart at all. "Perhaps. But this isn't really a question of whether they care or not. It's about whether the dawn will arrive after this long night before the light upon them is extinguished." Yang Kai smiled meaningfully and looked at her with an allusive glance. "That body you fitted on your little boyfriend—do you think he genuinely likes it?" Jiang Xuezhou blushed, flustered, wanting to clarify that he wasn't her boyfriend. But she quickly realized a far more serious issue: her mentor already knew she had paid out of her own pocket to upgrade his body! Though, then again, keeping such a thing secret had never been likely... Seeing no trace of anger on her mentor's face, she murmured, "But I felt like he liked it quite a bit. He certainly wouldn't hate it, right? I gave him the most expensive one... that my clearance could buy." "Did you ask him?" Placing the coffee cup back on the tray, Yang Kai looked at the stunned Jiang Xuezhou and said leisurely, "I don't actually object to some of the things you're doing, but as your mentor, I must give you a word of caution: never entangle yourself too deeply in certain matters. "Respect the destiny of others, let go of the savior complex, and only do what we are capable of and what we deem worthy. That is the lesson history has taught us. "In the end, we are bound for the New World—unless you can convince him to come with you." Jiang Xuezhou bit her lip and finally bowed her head. "Understood..." Yang Kai nodded approvingly. "Good that you understand. Go attend to your business. I'll call you if I need anything." Meanwhile, in the hills over a dozen kilometers south of Lion City. Watching the blazing inferno, Ye Shi gripped his binoculars and unconsciously tightened his other fist. "Fuckers..." Kuang Feng rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle pat. "Our mission is reconnaissance... There are only two of us. Don't think about intervening." Fang Chang and the others were searching for the two downed Thunderbolts; the wreckage of those craft could under no circumstances fall into the Legion's hands. They had to blow them up completely before the Legion found them. Besides, the Skeleton Corps had run into trouble on their end; once they finished their primary objective, they might have to head over and lend a hand. The reinforcements dispatched by the Alliance to the front had only just landed at Golden Gallon Port. They were truly powerless to stop the flames that had already erupted. They weren't gods, after all. Ye Shi didn't speak, standing there in grim silence. Like most players, he had always played this game with a gamer's mindset. Yet knowing that these people were dead for good, his chest felt as though weighed down by a boulder. Billowing plumes of thick smoke fused earth and sky into a single haze. The suffocating black clouds seemed almost choked by the fumes, finally letting loose a torrential downpour with a thunderous sneeze of a crash. Rainwater washed over muddy, scorched streets, rinsing away the blackened blood and soot baked dry against the walls. After several hours of brutal fighting, the Bolo defenders ultimately tasted bitter defeat. The six myriads in the city suffered nearly seventy percent casualties, General Commander of the Lion State War Zone Myriad Commander Yudono fell in battle, and the Bolo Republic's western army of two hundred thousand collapsed almost across the entire front—tumbling into ruin just like the torrential rain pouring from above! Lion City, in the end, had fallen.