Steel Canopy!

A hearty, soul-stirring battle had just drawn to a close, and while the soldiers on the western front were triumphantly clearing the battlefield, deep in the rear to the east, a completely different scene was unfolding. In the central part of Horse State. An unremarkable small mountain village lay sparsely populated, home to only elderly folk and children. Like Tiandu, this place was part of the territory of the State of Brahma. The only difference was that this village lay far on the frontier, so it rarely entered the public eye. Correspondingly, the people here knew precious little about what was happening in the outside world. While the residents of Tiandu were busy preparing for civil service examinations, and the residents of Fierce Horse City weighed whether to take a boat to Tiandu to sit for the exams, the locals here did not even know what an examination was. More than that. Because the area was wedged between Mammoth State and Tiger State, and remnants of the Gray Wolf Army operated around here as well—effectively leaving three warlord factions acting independently—Absaik's administration had exceedingly weak control over it. Aside from a few settlements with populations numbering in the hundreds of thousands or millions, most mountain villages were virtually lawless no-man's lands, where even landed nobles had fled the famine and turmoil. In an impoverished place like this, keeping young people around was naturally out of the question. Unless burdened with families they couldn't possibly abandon, most able-bodied young men had either gone to seek their fortunes in the cities or enlisted with nearby warlords. At least here, honest farming offered no livelihood; getting enough food to fill a family's bellies was an uphill battle. An old man carrying a wicker basket on his back was walking home after working in the fields when, halfway along, he was stopped by a polite young man. "...Excuse me, sir, could you tell me how to get to Black Python Mountain?" The old man stopped and looked the young man up and down. The youth had a travel pack slung across his back and wore a long-sleeved shirt. Though coated in trail dust, he was fair-skinned and clean-featured—plainly a respectable gentleman. As the saying went, one never hit a smiling face. That courteous demeanor made it hard not to feel well-disposed toward him. Moreover, the old fellow was used to masters looking down their noses at him; to have a gentleman now stoop down to speak politely made him feel somewhat flattered and overwhelmed. Scratching the back of his head, he grinned, teeth bared in polite amusement. "Oh my, I certainly don't deserve to be called 'sir.' I'm just a dirt farmer... Where did you say you were heading? Black... Black Python Mountain, was it...?" As he spoke the words, the old man suddenly realized what "Black Python Mountain" was, and his expression instantly changed. Zayed gave a smiling nod and spoke in a warm, gentle tone. "I heard General Gopal is nearby, and I'd like to pay him a visit." "Good heavens! What on earth are you looking for that bone-crushing wolf of a man for?" Without waiting for the young man to explain, the old fellow darted nervous glances to the left and right. Seeing no one nearby, he earnestly pressed on with his warning. "Young man, listen to an old man's advice, will you? Those wolf whelps are no good... They're nothing but bandits! The only reason they're still breathing is that the frontline war is keeping Grand Commander Absaik too busy to deal with them. Once the war ends, not a single one of them will get away!" Zayed smiled faintly, then let out a sigh. "It seems those bandits have caused you plenty of grief." The old man shook his head, sighing deeply. "Ah, you can say that again! Because of that lot, anyone who has a scrap of grain left has to hide it away carefully. Every three to five days they come round to fleece us. It's a miracle they haven't stripped the plaster off my walls and hauled it off!" "You have suffered," Zayed said, looking at the elder with profound sympathy. He placed a hand on the old man's shoulder, as though genuinely pained by his plight. "But don't worry, elder! What Commander Absaik cannot manage, I will manage! In fact, I came here specifically to solve your trouble!" "Solve it?" The old man was taken aback, eyeing him with deep suspicion. "A scholar like you... what trouble could you possibly solve?" Zayed chuckled. "I'm no scholar... Just tell me how I can find him." Good advice cannot save a man bent on dying. Seeing how determined he was, the old man could only sigh and point behind him. "Cross that mountain up ahead. The ridge winding like a giant python is Black Python Mountain. It takes several days to walk there. You won't make it deep inside on your own, but his men patrol that area to guard against militiamen from nearby towns. Once you reach the woods behind the mountain, take two steps and shout; they'll come find you on their own." After saying that, the old man added another well-meaning piece of advice. "That man really is wicked... If you want to enlist, you'd be far better off seeking out Laxi or Absaik." The memory of burned villages was vivid. Though he hadn't experienced it firsthand, he had heard refugees from the north say their homes had been torched by the Gray Wolf Army, all for some scorched-earth policy. Every single one of the old Empire's former ministers and officers treated common folk like dirt. "I understand. Rest assured, you can leave this matter to me." Zayed patted the elder's shoulder with a smile, then strode off without looking back in the direction the old man had pointed. A good man... Gazing at the dark forest ahead, a faint smile played at the corners of his lips. If that fellow were a good man, he wouldn't have bothered coming to this godforsaken place... He left the mountain village behind and journeyed north. The deeper he pushed into the woods, the scarcer the signs of human life became, and faint howls of wolves could occasionally be heard in the distance. He brought not a single attendant. Zayed picked up a fallen wooden stick to use as a walking staff, trudging forward alone like a resolute pilgrim. After a grueling trek through dense woodland after dense woodland and thickets bristling with brambles, he finally caught sight of the mountain range coiled across the earth like a colossal python. Black Python Mountain lay ahead! The remnants of the Gray Wolf Army were hiding right there! A smile surfaced on Zayed's face. Just as he was about to shout to draw the patrol's attention as the old man had instructed, a dark, gaping gun muzzle was suddenly aimed straight at him. "Don't move." The cold voice sounded as though drifting up from hell, dreary and chilling like a cave deprived of sunlight for years. And that was precisely where serpents loved to lurk. Zayed could sense that at least ten guns were trained on him, and every pair of eyes was fraught with wariness and hostility. Dropping his makeshift cane, he raised both hands without hesitation and spoke with his back to the black muzzle. "My name is Zayed. I was entrusted by Commander Absaik to negotiate with you... Please allow me to meet your commander." Ripples of laughter broke out around him. Holding his rifle, Gopal pulled his lips back in a smirk. He hadn't expected that coming out for a stroll out of sheer boredom would land him such a big fish. "I am the commander here. Former staff officer of the Gray Wolf Army, now General of the Gray Wolf Army. Commander Absaik, tsk, tsk... You treasonous rebels sure have guts coming here." With his hands raised above his head, Zayed gave a faint smile. "Why wouldn't I dare? Nowadays, anyone with an ounce of capability has raised troops in rebellion. If I am a treasonous rebel, aren't you one as well? If you truly weren't, you ought to have rallied to His Majesty Akbar, rather than squatting here." Gopal's eyes narrowed slightly, and the surrounding gazes turned decidedly menacing. The air grew deathly cold. Yet right then, Gopal's brow relaxed, and he let out a cold laugh. "Interesting. In that case, I'd like to hear what message your master sent you to deliver." Zayed glanced around, reading bone-deep hatred in those glares. They had once been the Empire's proudest warriors, heroes revered by tens of thousands, yet now they were abandoned here like stray dogs to rot and die. Wutuo hadn't trusted these men right up until his death, but Zayed knew full well that they were the most loyal subjects the Empire had ever had. When everyone else had abandoned the Empire, when even dirt farmers recognized Absaik as the "new king," they alone had never forsaken the old master they once served. Such had been true of Alaiyang. And it was equally true of his subordinates. Precisely because of this, they harbored boundless hatred for Absaik, their former comrade-in-arms. It was that man who had turned their loyalty into a joke, reducing them to clowns in the public eye. And precisely because of this, Zayed knew that if he pulled out that commission right now, he would be a dead man. That was not how such a document was meant to be used. "...Let us speak plainly," Zayed said, gazing unblinkingly at Gopal. "I have never regarded Absaik as my master. A two-faced, indecisive man like him is not worthy of being my master." Gopal suddenly chuckled. "What are you getting at?" "I can help rehabilitate General Alaiyang's reputation, as well as yours, and your families'," Zayed said, sweeping his gaze across the surroundings before looking back at Gopal. "More than that, I can help you take your revenge." The clearing fell dead quiet, disbelief written across every pair of eyes. Rehabilitate General Alaiyang's name? With just this nobody? Gopal's pupils shrank slightly; he was clearly moved. Yet it lasted for only an instant. He quickly realized that this fellow might be testing him, and with a sneer, he shoved his muzzle an inch closer. "Do I need that?" Although he concealed his emotions meticulously, the man standing before him still caught that momentary shift. Having obtained his confirmation, Zayed kept a calm, steady gaze on General Gopal, not even sparing a glance for the gun barrel practically prodding his nostrils as he spoke in a soft, gentle voice. "...If you didn't need it, why didn't you go to Laxi, or defect directly to Absaik, instead of holing up here as bandits with your men? You know as well as anyone that this is a dead end. Once the State of Brahma finishes off the Southern Legion, the very first thing they do upon turning back will be to wipe you out." Gopal sneered. "You say that as though they've already won." "How could they lose? Or rather, how could the Southern Legion win?" Zayed gave a faint smile. "Since you were a staff officer in the Gray Wolf Army, I trust your insight is not inferior to mine." Without waiting for Gopal to reply, Zayed continued: "They all misunderstand you; they look down on you. But I alone know that you and your former general were true loyalists... You shouldn't lie in your graves saddled with disgrace. You should be loved and revered by every survivor across Brahma Province." Gopal suddenly burst into laughter—a roar so loud it startled birds into flight from the canopy. He lowered his gun barrel. "Interesting... That's the second time I've thought that." Watching the muzzle drop, Zayed's face blossomed into a pleasant smile. "And your answer?" "I'm very interested in your offer to clear General Alaiyang's name and help me get revenge... But I must tell you, it's not just Laxi I hate, but everyone." "Everyone?" Zayed asked. "That's right..." Gopal glared at him sinisterly, speaking word by word. "Everyone who abandoned us, who betrayed us... They all have to pay." So that's how it is. Zayed showed an enlightened expression, regarding this creature who was even more twisted than himself with keen interest, lingering particularly on those wolf-like eyes. No wonder even that dirt farmer knew this man was no good. He wore his hatred right on his face. And the object of that hatred was every single person in Brahma. "...Then you've found the right man." Zayed let out a chuckle and extended his right hand. "In this world... I'm afraid I'm truly the only one who can grant your wish." Gopal bared his teeth in a grin and took his hand. "Not necessarily... but I believe that if I kept waiting, I would eventually find someone just like you." *You'll do!* His expression seemed to declare. With a brilliant smile on his face, Zayed squeezed the hand firmly and gave it a vigorous shake. "Then here's to a fruitful partnership." An open and candid conversation like today's would probably never happen again. From the moment he led these Gray Wolves out of this forest, a wise, mighty, and sacred mahatma would be born in Snake State. The survivors of Brahma Province would remember this moment, but no one would remember what was actually said on this day. To keep future memoirs clean and unburdened, he had deliberately avoided bringing his student along. Having persuaded Gopal, Zayed naturally brought out the commission and laid out the plan in his mind. He had already passed Absaik's first "impossible test," and next came the second. Snake State was currently presided over by Grand Commissioner Shahrukh, who would certainly never tolerate a nobody like him coming to usurp power. Even with a commission naming him "Supreme Commander of the Snake State War Zone," it was useless. If he were foolish enough to barge in, his situation would be far more perilous than venturing alone into the wolf's den today. Shahrukh would rack his brains to make him disappear, and it would be as effortless as crushing an ant; after all, while it was Zayed's hometown, it was Shahrukh's turf. Yet all of that was predicated on him going there to seize power. What if he wasn't going there to seize power? Or rather... What if the person truly seizing power wasn't him at all? Zayed explained in a low murmur what he intended to do. Hearing it, Gopal froze for a moment, then beamed with sheer admiration. Such a vicious scheme... He truly had found the right man. The two schemers, each harboring his own calculations, both broke into sinister grins. As they wrapped up and watched Zayed put away the commission, Gopal suddenly asked, "By the way, how did you know General Alaiyang was framed?" Without hesitation, Zayed replied, "Which incident are you referring to?" "The levee on the Tasang River," Gopal said, shrugging. "At first they said the city garrison blew it up, then they changed their story and claimed we ordered the garrison to do it, indirectly killing a hundred thousand people... In truth, nowhere near that many died, and it had nothing to do with us." Zayed raised a hand, cutting him off with a tinge of impatience. "Does that sort of thing even matter? Were the villagers on the border of Horse State and Mammoth State massacred by the Moon Clan Resistance?" He had never been there, but a single glance at the map told him Laxi had nothing to gain from doing that. As for the dam, it might very well have been Laxi's doing—not because of any flaw in the map, but because that fellow had guiltily built another one. Were it up to Zayed, he would never have done something so foolish. Since when in history had a ruler ever admitted to a mistake? Incompetence wasn't true incompetence; admitting fault was. Naturally, these were private thoughts; he wouldn't share them even with Sava, the person closest to him. Gopal was momentarily at a loss for words, unable to answer. Judging solely by body count, Alaiyang had definitely killed far more than Laxi, and with far more deliberate intent. Yet Zayed merely patted his shoulder without bothering to explain, remarking breezily, "Once we win, it'll all have been done by them." ... West Sail Port, Governor-General's Mansion. Seated in the governor's office, General Gulion finished reading the combat report in his hands, his face turning an ashen hue. After a long silence, he stood up from his chair in fury, slammed the report onto the desk, and cursed, "A bunch of useless trash!" Two mechanized infantry myriads! One crippled, the other captured wholesale as an intact unit—even the myriadman had been taken prisoner! And this was under the cover of an airship! These swine were a waste of rations just drawing breath; they'd have been better off shooting themselves! The officer standing by the door dared not breathe, keeping his eyes fixed straight out the window. Beside the desk, a staff officer wore a grim look and lowered his voice. "...Our front-line troops underestimated the enemy too severely. That's a major problem. This time, our opponent isn't merely the various states of Brahma Province, but also volunteers from the Alliance." "The biggest problem is that stupid pig Wolff!" General Gulion snarled, his anger unappeased. "I sent him to scout Akale County, and what does he do? Drives his troops into the river to catch shrimp, stubbornly turning a localized skirmish into a full-blown pitched battle! Not only did he get himself taken, but he dragged down the 37th Myriad as well!" The staff officer gave a bitter smile. "That's precisely the issue I meant... These men treat every enemy they see like a walking medal. If this continues, we're bound to suffer catastrophic losses!" General Gulion shook his head in exasperation and picked up the telephone receiver. He had just been about to dress down Myriadman Ryan, commander of the eastern front, when an incoming call cut in before he could dial. The call was from the General Staff. Gulion's heart skipped a beat, but he braced himself and pressed the button to connect. Before long, the Chief of General Staff's voice came through the line. This man was the second-in-command of the Southern Legion, and also Gulion's direct point of contact. "How is the situation in the theater?" Not daring to delay, Gulion immediately reported: "The theater situation is in excellent shape! The three myriads led by Myriadman Otley have successfully pushed into Dog State! We will soon be able to launch the second phase of the offensive!" Having heard his report, the Chief of Staff merely grunted an "Mm," then asked, "And the eastern front?" Gulion's expression stiffened, but under the Chief of Staff's inquiry, he could only push on. "...We have already captured Lion City. Currently, the entire Lion State is under our control. Before long, we will take Tiandu, at which point all of Brahma Province will be under our—" Before he could finish, he was cut off by the voice on the other end of the line. "I've already heard about the 36th Myriad." The governor's office fell instantly silent, so quiet a falling needle would have been distinctly audible. Unprepared for this disgrace to have already reached the General Staff, Gulion swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he struggled to speak. "Wolff's situation... was an accident. Terrain played a part, as did the weather. But naturally, the primary factor was a sneak attack by the Alliance." Though he had just been cursing Wolff a moment ago, he now had no choice but to say a few good words for that idiot. After all, a subordinate's stupidity did not excuse the commander's failure; it would only make Gulion, who had entrusted the fool with such responsibility, look like an even bigger idiot. When it came to accountability, the Legion and the Empire operated under completely different—even diametrically opposed—mechanisms. Having patiently listened to Gulion's explanation, the Chief of General Staff spoke in a soft voice. "Regardless of the cause, this is a disgrace to the entire Southern Legion... I don't care whether you negotiate or use other means, get those prisoners back." Facing the command as if facing an enemy in battle, Gulion answered solemnly, "Yes, sir!" Seemingly satisfied with his demeanor, the Chief of General Staff didn't berate him excessively. Pausing briefly, he continued, "Furthermore, don't be too eager for quick success. If a swift victory isn't achievable, proceed steadily and consolidate every single position... After all, our opponent may very well be more than just the Alliance." Gulion answered firmly, "Yes, sir!" Standing on no unnecessary ceremony, the Chief of Staff asked a few more questions before hanging up. Staring at the disconnected line, Gulion exhaled a long breath, only now realizing that his back was drenched in sweat. To his surprise, however, the Chief of Staff hadn't reprimanded him... Looking down at the handset, the rage that had gripped him earlier gave way to indecision over whether he should still call the front line to chew out Myriadman Ryan. Just then, a knock sounded on the door, and an officer pushed it open and entered. "Reporting, General! The airships sent as reinforcements—the Rolling Thunder, Great Axe, Fortress, and Iron Wall—have entered our airspace!" Hearing this, Gulion's face lit up with joy, his fists clenching involuntarily. "Splendid... Tell the airship captains to report to the barracks for a briefing the moment they touch down!" The officer at the door snapped a salute. "Yes, sir!" A total of four airships had arrived at West Sail Port this time. They brought not only overwhelming firepower, but also Prowler tanks specifically designed to counter the Alliance's Type 3 tanks and anti-tank railguns! He intended to deploy all four airships to the eastern front to support Myriadman Ryan in taking Tiandu in one fell swoop! Reinvigorated, Gulion rose from his desk and walked over to the window overlooking the harbor. Beneath the dense dark clouds, towering steel prows gradually unveiled their silhouettes, like a steel canopy blotting out the heavens! Drawn by the immense airborne colossi, pedestrians in the streets stopped in their tracks, casting glances of sheer disbelief toward the sky. Some were astonished, some bewildered, some thrilled, and others petrified... Those were true weapons of war. No one could withstand the rain of fire descending from the heavens! Taking in the sight, a relieved smile finally curled on General Gulion's lips. "...We've won." Meanwhile, downstairs outside the governor-general's mansion. The new Emperor of Xilan, Akbar, wore a fawning smile as he held a decorative silk banner. Emblazoned across the crimson silk banner in grand, ornate calligraphy was a line: [Congratulations to General Gulion on Successive Victories!] He wanted to go inside and present this banner to General Gulion in person, but unfortunately the guards at the door were utterly devoid of tact, paying no respect whatsoever to his imperial status. No matter what he said, he couldn't get in, leaving him stranded at the entrance, fretting in vain. Just at that moment, an officer stepped out from the mansion. Akbar recognized the face—it seemed to be one of the aides serving by General Gulion's side. Seizing the opportunity, Akbar hurried forward with a sycophantic grin and explained his purpose. Yet upon hearing why he had come, the officer's expression turned exceedingly bizarre, his eyes lingering on the banner for a long while. "...General Gulion will be attending a briefing shortly. I'm afraid he doesn't have time to see you." Akbar's expression froze, but he swallowed his annoyance and settled for the next best thing: "Then... may I ask when he will be free?" "He won't be free anytime soon. If you have nothing important, you'd better not bother him," the officer waved dismissively, giving the silk banner one last glance. "I'll deliver this banner for you." General Gulion was in a foul temper right now; if he actually saw this banner, there was no telling how explosive his fury might be. Akbar, however, was completely oblivious to the truth. His understanding of the frontline situation was still stuck on Myriadman Ryan smashing the two-hundred-thousand-strong army of the State of Brahma and taking Lion City in a single battle. Blankly handing the banner over to the officer, Akbar still couldn't resist urging, "We haven't seen General Gulion in quite some time... When he is no longer busy, please be sure to arrange an audience for Us." "Understood." Rolling up the banner and clutching it in his fist, the officer offered an impatient reply before walking outside. Akbar was just about to ask if he was heading in the wrong direction, but in the end felt too awkward to speak up. Right then, the roar of engines broke through the clouds, rolling down toward the earth. Thinking that Alliance bombers had returned, Akbar's face blanched instantly, and he instinctively looked for cover. Only when he glanced upward did he see that it wasn't Alliance aircraft at all, but the Legion's iron airships! Four imposing prows parted the thick clouds, showcasing their overbearing majesty across the sky. His gaze turned blank for a moment, and then that blankness morphed into wild ecstasy. "Hahaha! Those bastards are in for it now!" Unlike him, however, the meek Lion Clan elder trailing behind him wore a look of utter terror, muttering incessantly under his breath. A single *Clarion* had wiped out half a city, and this time four had arrived at once... He could not fathom what could possibly stand against such monstrosities. Especially if they attacked together... Tiandu already seemed like a city of the dead. No matter how many local victories were won, they paled into insignificance before such absolute power. Perhaps only a miracle itself—only the Alliance's Lord Administrator—could save them now... Despair was etched into every furrow of the old lion-man's wrinkled face, and he was far from the only one thinking it. "It's over..." This time, it really might be the end...