CHAPTER 234: WAR SPOILS

"Bastards, do you know what you’re doing?" the enemy Commandant growled through gritted teeth as he stared daggers at Gabriel.

The battlefield was now quiet, save for the hard breathing of the man in charge of the cargo and the Commandant himself. All around, the dead bodies of his men were sprawled across the ground.

And now, the Broken Dawn faction stood victorious, having captured the entire cargo truck. Triumphant looks were etched on their faces.

At the center of it all, the Commandant was on his knees, panting heavily. Standing just in front of him, Gabriel looked down with a calm, steady gaze.

Thanks to the treasures they had acquired, the battle had been swift. None of Broken Dawn’s members were killed or even seriously injured.

’Though the bomb reserve was depleted, it still did the job,’ Gabriel noted. Even with the enemy Commandant kneeling before him, he acted as if no one else was present.

A thick red vein throbbed on the Commandant’s temple; his entire face flushed with anger. Yet he knew better than to fight this man—someone with the strength of hundreds.

Right now, all he wanted was to negotiate a way out, even if it meant resorting to threats.

"To your earlier question," Gabriel finally spoke, his gaze settling on the man, who gulped as he felt a heavy weight pressing down on him.

"Yes, I know what I’m doing," he said in a firm voice.

The Commandant forced a grin as he replied, "You do know this cargo truck is heading for the northern camp? The second biggest camp around this region."

"I’m aware of that," Gabriel replied calmly.

A trace of surprise flashed across the Commandant’s features. A part of him had thought these guild wannabes didn’t know who they were attacking, acting like common bandits.

Apparently, it appeared they knew exactly what they were doing and were fully conscious of their actions.

"It seems you don’t know how powerful the northern camp is." The Commandant smirked. "Not even the big guilds would rush into battle with them so easily."

Gabriel didn’t comment. Deep down, he knew that if Olympus or Martial Palace wanted to destroy this settlement, they could.

Each guild had their fair share of trump cards, some even stronger than the vice leaders themselves. But these trump cards were rarely seen and little information was known about them.

The reason the guilds didn’t move against camps in the Wilderness was simply because those camps were smart enough not to do anything that would trigger them.

Furthermore, many were affiliated with the kingdoms.

Therefore, the Commandant’s attempt to scare him had failed woefully.

The man continued, his grin widening and his confidence visibly growing. "If you let me go and leave with the cargo now, I might put in some words for you. The northern camp might be a little lenient on you."

"Are you done?"

"Huh?" The Commandant looked up, slightly confused.

"What do you mean?" he stuttered.

Gabriel wasn’t fond of repeating himself, so he did it as necessary.

When Crimson Judgement materialized in his grasp, the Commandant swallowed nervously, realizing that all his warnings and threats had fallen on deaf ears.

"You wouldn’t dar—"

Shing!

A thin red line appeared on the man’s neck. He staggered to his feet, opening his mouth to speak, but his head rolled from his shoulders, followed by the rest of his body collapsing to the ground.

A moment of silence spread across the battlefield. Then, as Gabriel shook the last remnants of blood from his greatsword and unsummoned it, cheers exploded!

No one knew who started it, but soon the militants and adventurers all raised their voices, roaring:

"Victory!"

"Victory!"

Gabriel’s expression remained chillingly cold, unmoved by their chants. When he killed Kairos and Bai Young, both valuable to the northern and eastern camps, he knew very well that he had started a war.

By taking over this food supply, he had basically poured gasoline onto an already raging flame.

Was Gabriel scared of the consequences? Definitely not. Whether he captured the truck or not, merely killing Kairos had already painted a huge red target on his back.

Calmly, amidst the roar, Gabriel walked toward the back of the truck. It was bound with thick chains and secured with a padlock.

"Here, Master," Anna said, walking up to him with a bundle of keys. Gabriel took them from her hand and slid one into the keyhole.

It clicked open on the first try. The padlock gave way, and the chains rattled to the ground. Gabriel swung the doors open.

Inside, crates were stacked from floor to ceiling. The smell of preserved goods wafted out.

Anna’s face lit up when she saw the contents.

Gabriel’s eyes sparked as well. Sealed tins, sacks of grain, dried meat, bottled water, and medicine tucked into smaller boxes—out here in the wilderness, this was worth more than gold.

The scent of food managed to waft into their nostrils. The troops crowded around with wide grins.

One of them whistled. "With this, the camp won’t starve for months."

"Hahaha! We’ll finally have three square meals!" another laughed, slapping his comrade on the shoulder.

Gabriel was excited as well. This haul would temporarily solve the food issue back in camp and allow him to focus on other matters.

"Load it," he ordered in a deep voice.

The group moved fast, climbing into the truck and shifting crates into the vehicles they had brought along. Everyone worked in silence, broken only by the scrape of wood and the clatter of boxes. The tension of battle was gone, replaced with excitement.

Within the hour, the truck was emptied. The crates were piled onto carts, tied down tightly, and covered with sheets. The truck itself was abandoned; its engine was destroyed by stray bullets anyway.

Anna glanced at Gabriel. "What about the rest of the enemy’s equipment?"

"Take it as well," he replied. There were machine guns, Spare magazines/ammo crates, Assault Rifle, and a few magical treasures—all extremely useful for his troops.

The Broken Dawn members wasted no time. They gathered the scattered weapons, pried off armor, and stripped anything that could be of use, even simple rations were snatched up and tossed into crates.

"Damn, these guys were fully stocked," one militant muttered, hefting a crate of ammo.

Another whistled as he pulled a sleek black rifle with glowing runes etched across the barrel. "This isn’t standard issue... it’s enchanted. Who the hell arms their foot soldiers like this?"

Once the enemies were stripped naked, Gabriel gave the order, and the troop began to move out.