CHAPTER 821: CHAPTER 821: THE FALL OF WEST SAIL

The captain and vice-captain of the guard both died in battle, and Hante never thought that as an old man close to retirement, he would be tasked with taking over the guard’s command.

No choice.

He had to go.

There are over ten thousand people in the entire harbor area, and among them, Weilante people make up thirty percent.

In any case, these people must not come to harm!

Even if he dies, he must block the mob outside!

Looking at the guards whose faces were still filled with panic, Hante gritted his teeth and shouted loudly.

"Drag some crates here! Empty ones are fine! Whether it’s sand, stones or even rotten apples, just stuff them in and block the main roads! Quick! Move it!"

Then he looked at the youngest lad in the guard team and shouted at him.

"Newman! Go back and send a telegram! Ask for help from Evernight Harbor! Make sure to tell them something big is happening here and they need to send at least a thousand troops... no, send ten thousand troops over!"

He wasn’t sure if Evernight Harbor had stationed so many troops, but the current situation was beyond what his small team could handle.

It was said that the arms temporarily stored in the warehouse could arm an entire group of ten thousand. If those mobs formed an organization, the chaos might spread across the Lion State!

The young lad named Newman nodded quickly and hurried towards the direction of the guard station.

Under Hante’s orders, the guards present quickly began to act, forming defensive lines in groups of ten.

It must be said that at critical times, the Weilante people were fairly united.

Some young and strong lads saw that the guards didn’t have enough man-power, so they joined in, helping them transport barricades to the entrances and exits of the streets.

The roads leading from other districts to the harbor area were soon blocked, and some civilians trying to squeeze into the harbor area to take refuge were all driven away by shots fired by the Weilante guards.

As for those who tried to forcefully rush through the posts, Hante had no hesitation and decisively ordered them all killed.

At this point, it was impossible to distinguish who was civilian and who was a thug; one couldn’t be sure who might have a grenade or a pistol hidden in their pocket.

His men couldn’t even form a full hundred-man team, so they couldn’t afford any risks.

"Fire!" he shouted loudly while holding the rifle, he was the first to pull the trigger.

Amidst the gunfire, several unlucky guys fell to the ground, and in the blink of an eye, the street had five more corpses.

Seeing that the Weilante people looked like they had gone berserk, the civilians who had fled from their homes didn’t dare to head to the harbor and changed direction to run outside the city.

However, not everyone was so lucky, most didn’t get far before they were stopped.

These people had cloth strips tied to their arms and ferocious faces; one look and it was clear they weren’t good people.

Gowenda instinctively wanted to turn around and leave, escape in another direction, but it was too late.

One of them stared into his eyes, striding up to him, and then without saying a word, shoved a rifle with a bayonet into his hands.

"The Weilante people kill my compatriots, suck our marrow, and even insult us. They must pay a blood price!"

Looking at the bloodstained rifle in his hands, Gowenda was terrified and stammered.

"B-but I can’t..."

The man didn’t listen to him at all and just grinned as he spoke.

"Doesn’t matter if you can’t, it’s simple to use. Those Gray Wolf army veterans said, load the bullet, unlock the safety, align the two points to form a line, and just shoot those big-nosed bastards!"

The guards shot too accurately; the bullets seemed to have eyes.

Though they could kill a few, it often required paying several, even tens of times the cost.

This was when cannon fodder became crucial.

Even if these guys couldn’t hit anyone, they could consume some of the harbor area’s ammunition.

Once they figured out how to drag that 100mm cannon over, all problems would be resolved.

Gowenda was so anxious he was almost crying, but looking at the ferocious expression, he swallowed back his plea.

Seeing him be so sensible, the fellow with the cloth strip tied to his arm flashed a sinister smile, pushing his shoulder.

"Go on, show those Weilante people some colors! Let them know even a cornered rat can bite!"

"N-now?" Gowenda asked nervously and hastily.

"What else? Did I give you a gun to use as a crutch? Stop wasting time!" said the man impatiently, shoving him towards the front.

Moving his lead-heavy legs, Gowenda walked despairingly towards the harbor direction, while the distant gunshots sounded like a death curse in his ears.

Not far from him, there was a fellow who had fled from the harbor direction just like him, seemingly a citizen of the Lion Clan.

This group of madmen also tried to shove a gun at him, but he refused to take it, arrogantly cursing them, and ended up getting knocked out with a gun butt.

Gowenda didn’t dare look back, only hearing a bang of a shot behind him, then no more sound from that man.

He painfully closed his eyes.

Rat God above.

He rarely prayed, but at this moment he couldn’t help but chant.

Please protect Your children...

...

While the gunfire was fierce on the few streets around the harbor area, the usually bustling wharf was even more chaotic at this moment.

People screamed and shoved, trying to break through the human wall in front to reach the narrow pier.

The only two ships were already packed and had to move away from the dock.

Despite this, some people hadn’t given up, even throwing away their luggage to swim over.

To escape from this chaotic harbor, people had gone mad, trying to board any watercraft they could use to leave.

Even small fishing boats temporarily docked at the pier were bought by desperate Weilante people and Lion Clan nobles, forcing the fishermen to set sail.

However, unfortunately, these small fishing boats lacked the capability to cross the ocean.

One fishing boat less than eight meters long, packed with over forty people, capsized by a wave shortly after sailing!

Watching those hit into the water by the waves, cries of alarm rose from the shore.

Some brave young men jumped into the sea to save people, but in the end, less than half got back to shore.

Seeing the plight of those in the water, people eager to escape finally calmed down a bit, but the despair weighing on their hearts did not lessen at all, even grew stronger.

The whole harbor went crazy.

Until now, most people still didn’t know what had happened.

They only heard a loud explosion from the warehouse district, followed by black smoke rising; everyone hurried to put out the fire, but the fire just grew bigger.

A chubby Weilante merchant stood at the harbor cursing in anger at the direction of the harbor area.

"Damn it... these useless idiots can’t even manage so few people! When Governor Hue returns, I must write to him and have these good-for-nothing fools fired!"

The curses quickly drowned in the noise, like a single grain of rice lost in a barn, insignificant.

Looking at the crowded dock, Margaret holding her daughter’s hand turned slightly pale.

There were no more ships left.

Although she had anticipated potential incidents at the port over the past few days, she didn’t expect the unexpected to occur so swiftly and come so fiercely!

Truth be told, she had more than once thought that the exploitation by those local noble natives of their own people was somewhat excessive.

The Southern Legion controlled quite a few colonies and often hired locals for work, yet she had never heard of anyone there surviving on only one or two hundred dinars a month.

How could anyone live like that!

As expected, the endless greed eventually provoked a backlash. It only took a fire to turn the boiling resentment into a full-blown rebellion.

The slightly darker-skinned maid stood behind the mother and daughter duo, her eyes full of worry.

"Madam... I feel it’s not safe on the streets, we should return home first."

Hearing that advice, Margaret gave a bitter smile.

Is it safe at home then?

Although the guards were still fighting, to be honest, she didn’t have much faith in them.

First, they weren’t regular troops; second, their numbers were too few, and their equipment was clearly problematic.

If they couldn’t control the situation in a short amount of time, they would soon face mobs ten times or even dozens of times larger.

Looking at the anxiety written all over her mother’s face, Ruby gently tugged at her hand.

"Mom... weren’t we going to visit sister An Su Ya?"

Although feeling anxious inside, to prevent her daughter from worrying, Margaret managed a gentle smile on her face and gently stroked her fluffy, soft hair.

"Mom was planning to take you tomorrow... but something unexpected happened now."

Ruby tilted her head, a curious look on her face.

"Unexpected?"

Margaret gently nodded, speaking softly.

"Yes, but don’t worry... give mom some time, there will be a way."

Ruby nodded understandingly, obediently closed her mouth and stopped speaking.

The slightly darker-skinned maid looked at Margaret, trying to suggest.

"What if... we have Count Sharma send someone to pick us up? With your gentleman’s relationship with him, it should be worth the risk."

Margaret said worriedly.

"That would at least have to wait until after midnight... just fear the people here can’t hold on until then."

The maid expressed concern.

"But taking a ship is no longer possible, I think you should try to get help from the locals."

"Makes sense..." Margaret took a deep breath to calm herself, "Go home first, send Count Sharma a telegram to arrange a meeting place. If the West Sail Port Harbor area hasn’t fallen, meet at the nearby Nightingale Street exit, if... if it has already fallen..."

"We can go to the Silver Moon Church," the maid immediately said, "Pastor Melgio is a good person, I occasionally go there to pray, he will certainly help us."

Margaret froze for a moment, her eyes still filled with worry, but ultimately she could only nod.

The Vellante people didn’t have a good reputation in Silver Moon Bay, especially since the Eastern Legion once brought the flames of war to the edge of Camel Hump Kingdom’s Petra Fortress.

But...

Currently, only they could be sought for help.

There was a phone system in West Sail Port, but communication with other settlements outside the city could only be done through telegrams.

Not wasting any time, the group hurriedly returned home and rushed to the telegraph machine.

As expected by Margaret, upon learning of their situation, Count Sharma immediately sent his servant to West Sail Port, expected to arrive by midnight.

The port area was no longer freely accessible now, and both sides had agreed on a meeting signal in the telegram: waving a white flag from side to side.

Margaret would then ask a familiar face in the guard squad to let her contact enter at the Nightingale Street entrance...

Seeing the reply on the telegraph machine, Margaret breathed a slight sigh of relief, collapsing into the chair.

Unknowingly, her back had already been soaked with sweat.

The nearby maid handed her a towel, speaking with genuine relief.

"Finally saved..."

Margaret gave a bitter smile.

"...Let’s hope so."

It’s too early to say we’re saved now...

...

The night had barely begun to envelop the port.

On the streets adjacent to the port area and other city districts, the situation had escalated from initial probing to intense conflict.

The people besieging the port area numbered over ten thousand.

Among them were dock workers, as well as laborers from steel factories and cement factories, or textile mills and sugar factories.

In addition, some dragged-in slaves, injured and retired Gray Wolf Army veterans, and even some Lion Clan citizens who joined out of desperation.

Some had no choice, coerced at gunpoint by other mobs; if they didn’t hand over a token, didn’t fight the Vellante people, didn’t join the "uprising," they’d be traitors to the Vellante, lackeys of the nobles, making them legitimate targets for others to rob, loot, and abuse.

But there were also opportunists, the same group who held guns to the former’s heads.

They quickly raised a flagpole, gathered a batch of equally fierce individuals, intimidated some hesitators, and shouted about establishing a Lion Country or something similar in Lion State, just like Laxi.

However, unlike them, they hadn’t thought much about an agenda, much less what to do if they succeeded, they just intended to ride the momentum first.

For the majority, they’d willingly joined this headless "uprising."

Some due to docked wages, others had enough of Vellante’s humiliation, and others were simply envious of Vellante’s power and wealth.

Who started the fire was irrelevant; the smoldering flame had long since burned in their hearts.

The explosion in the port area was the fuse, and the whip in Nagi’s hand was no different.

As word spread, they wrapped stolen cotton cloth from the port area around their arms as a symbol to discern foes from allies, agreeing that whoever’s brethren captured the Governor’s Mansion and tore down the flag hanging there, would be Lion King’s great ruler!

As for the others, they would become leaders of a ten thousand troops!

After sacrificing nearly a hundred cannon fodder, the "insurgents" gradually realized the guard squad’s shortage of manpower, prompting them to adopt more aggressive tactics.

At the same time, the 100mm artillery, which had performed magnificently in the previous warehouse district skirmish, was pushed onto the street.

However, Hante did not allow these mobs to succeed. He seized the opportunity to decisively issue orders, letting the police armored vehicles hidden in the alleys directly rush forward.

Before the artillery could be deployed, the 10mm heavy machine gun mounted on the car rooftops rumbled into action, unleashing a torrent of bullets at the mobs.

The storm of shrapnel wreaked havoc on the street, leaving rows of fist-sized craters, even forcibly collapsing a mud wall!

The mobs hiding behind the artillery instantly perished, leaving a field of mutilated corpses.

The bloody scene intimidated many.

Especially those who had been holding assault rifles preparing to charge, were stunned by the appalling sight and shrank back into cover.

"Hook the tow rope on the cannon and drag it back! Quick!" Hante commanded over the radio from afar.

One guard quickly jumped down, hurriedly hooking the latch on the artillery’s rear, while his teammates grabbed the ammunition box with shells and hid back in the car.

As the car door closed, the armored vehicle restarted its engine, dragging the 100mm cannon and driving desperately toward the harbor area.

From a distance, an Iron Fist Rocket flew in, fortunately missing its mark and collapsing a nearby house instead.

The armored vehicle returned to the position and came to a halt. The guards who stepped out wore expressions of sheer terror on their faces.

One of them didn’t even realize he’d been shot in the calf until he got out of the vehicle, with blood flowing continuously.

Hante ordered the nurse sent over from the harbor area to help bandage their wounds and then saw the secretary from the Governor’s Office approaching.

"How’s the battle going?"

Seeing that anxious face, Hante said in a deep voice.

"It’s hard to handle. How long we can hold out purely depends on when they organize themselves."

The secretary’s breath hitched, and he asked in a trembling voice.

"Then... how many people do we have left..."

Hante smirked and said.

"Counting the local guards summoned from other areas, we should barely make it to 200."

"That’s all?!"

"Getting even this many is quite good. Earlier, we couldn’t even muster fifty people here..."

Speaking of this, Hante couldn’t help but curse.

"There are too few people here! I don’t understand why Evernight Harbor, with only a hundred thousand people, can station a ten thousand troops, while West Sail Port with over a million people has only a hundred-man team! And that’s an unofficial guard team!"

Does it even matter to talk about this now?

The secretary’s face bore a bitter smile, but he still explained.

"We have our difficulties... Triumph City’s forces were never many to begin with, only His Excellency the Marshal’s Forbidden Army and the City Defense Force, we’re different from the Southern Legion after all."

In the end, the Civil Official Group has no troops of their own, and when problems arise, they can only find someone else to clean up the mess.

Fortunately, their relations with the Southern Legion aren’t bad, there are even some people in the guard team who once served in the Southern Legion.

Hante cursed under his breath.

"You better think of something... there are over 3000 Weilante people, many of them are prominent figures in Triumph City. If any of them get hurt, you better be ready to face Triumph City’s wrath!"

"I’m trying to think of a solution..." The governor’s secretary wiped the sweat from his brow, suddenly asking, "By the way, where’s Nagi? Have him come and persuade——"

"Forget that idiot! At least half—no, at least two-thirds of these people are here because of that fool!" Hante cursed and muttered, "If I catch him, I’ll skin him alive!"

The agreed-upon wages were reneged on in less than a month, a move he hadn’t anticipated.

He couldn’t understand why they had to scrape for those two dinars from a bunch of short-lived wretches, even the feudal lords of the Eastern Legion wouldn’t do something as foolish as completely burning their bridges.

Was the profit shared with those guys still not enough?

Why do they never learn!

Just then, an employee from the Guard Bureau ran over in a panic, stopping in front of Hante, gasping for breath.

"A telegram from Evernight Harbor! Their forces have already set out, we’re told to hold on!"

Hante immediately asked.

"How long until they arrive!"

The clerk swallowed.

"They’re in the southern hemisphere... at the fastest, maybe three days."

Three days...

Hearing this number, Hante’s heart sank into an abyss of despair.

People’s lives here are counted by the hour, they can’t hold out that long!

At that moment, a deafening explosion suddenly erupted from the street not far away.

The scorching shockwave crushed several buildings, sweeping through like a hurricane to a hundred meters away.

The three of them instinctively ducked down to avoid it, the scorching hot stones nearly grazing their scalps as they flew past.

"Damn it! What’s going on?"

Struggling to get up from the ground in a sorry state, the secretary, with an expression of shock still on his face, looked towards the direction of the explosion, only to see a field of mangled corpses.

The insurgents somehow got hold of a freight truck, packing it with dynamite and shells, and stepped hard on the gas, ramming it directly into their defenses.

The police armored vehicle was overturned.

Even the 100mm cannon they had just looted was blown over to the side of the road.

The ten or so guards stationed behind the defensive cover were nearly wiped out! Those who weren’t dead were lying on the ground convulsing...

The civilians assisting in transporting supplies were also either dead or injured from the blast.

Seeing the defensive line collapse instantly, a hint of utter despair appeared on Hante’s face.

"Damn it..."

These lunatics!

The armed insurgents seemed to have underestimated the power of the explosion and were also caught dazed by the shockwave.

However, they had the numerical advantage; even if some were affected by the aftershock of the explosion, it was still trivial to the overall situation of the battle.

When they saw the defensive line at the harbor area was finally blown open, their previously shaky morale was instantly boosted, even the cannon fodder pushed to the front lines began cheering with excitement.

A man holding a Blade Assault Rifle walked to the front of the team, wildly spraying bullets ahead, and then shouted to his comrades behind him.

"Brothers! Charge forward! The Weilante people have all their valuables at the harbor!"

"They used to look down on us, now it’s our turn to slap them hard!"

"Whoever gets it, keeps it!"

The roar brought countless responses, the rising voices filled the entire street, a pack of eyes reddened by the thirst to kill shone with even fiercer, scarlet light, like starving wolves eyeing prey.

"Charge, brothers!"

"Grab the money! Grab the people!"

"Oh oh oh!"

The mass of heads surged like a flood toward the gap in the defensive line, the remaining guards, numbering a little over a hundred, seemed as insignificant as mayflies trying to shake a tree.

Even though they had one police armored vehicle left, it was to no avail.

The insurgents had now dragged out Iron Fist Rocket Launchers from the warehouse. In the face of armor-piercing bullets, the thin layer of metal on the police armored vehicle seemed like paper.

The explosive flares continued to rise amid the cries of the crowd, and the eyes of those crammed at the dock were filled with despair.

While covering the governor’s secretary in retreat, Hante was killed after taking down three insurgents, shot through the throat, and collapsing with wide-open eyes.

Just like his captain and vice-captain...

The Weilante people, although naturally inclined for battle, were after all not complete monsters like mutants.

They only had somewhat better physical capabilities than ordinary people, matured a bit earlier, and possessed slightly stronger combat wills.

And, there were no "benefits," not consuming any resources from the War Construction Committee.

Putting aside these, they’re just like the players, if shot in the critical spots, they will die.

"I surrender!"

Facing the mob surging like a tide, the Governor’s secretary decisively chose to surrender.

It wasn’t just for himself, but also for the more than three thousand Vellante residents in the harbor area and the tens of thousands living there.

Watching the group pulling the gun muzzles to his nostrils, he cleared his throat and said in a serious tone.

"You have won, this port is now yours. But before you celebrate your victory, let me meet your representative, I want to talk to him."

He lowered his stance substantially, even though he did not consider these guys in front of him seriously.

A group of mobs without action plans or clear demands, not much stronger than the Looters on the Wasteland.

When the reinforcements from Evernight Harbor arrived, they could be pinned against the wall in minutes.

He had no doubt in his mind.

After a brief wait, a man holding a legion flag walked out from the crowd.

The man had a scar on his jaw, like a bullet wound. Surviving was just a stroke of luck.

Even though his gaze was light and playful, there was an unnoticed hint of ferocity, like a wolf lurking in the snow.

Clearly, he had been on a battlefield.

Maybe even brought out by McCullen...

"What do you want to talk to me about?"

Staring at the man before him, the Governor’s secretary swallowed and said.

"...All the wealth here is yours, let us go."

The man chuckled lightly, glanced around, then looked back at him.

"And then today’s event is written off?"

The Governor’s secretary paused for a moment, then vaguely said.

"...This can be negotiated."

Hell no!

If this guy isn’t sent to the gallows, he’ll write his name backward in the future!

The Civil Official Group indeed has no direct troops, but that doesn’t mean they’re easily bullied.

They have money and can hire Mercenaries from the colonies to fight for them.

More than that, they can even call upon friends from the Southern Legion for help.

The man smirked slightly, clearly not believing his words either, and said blandly.

"We’ve talked to you time and again, but every time we got nothing but perfunctory answers or ridicule... Was it fun? From eight dinars to six."

The Governor’s secretary swallowed, cursing again inwardly at that fool named Nagi.

"We only just found out about this... Blaming us isn’t quite right."

The man snorted coldly.

"It doesn’t matter, you’re all in it together, even if you knew, what can you do? Could you still stand up for us?"

The Governor’s secretary locked eyes with him.

"So... was it you who started the fire?"

"I wish it was me, unfortunately, someone was a step quicker," the man shook his head slightly, wearing a look of regret, "That fire wasn’t lit by anyone, it was the fury of the West Sail Port residents, the fury of everyone except you."

"...Then are you ready for the Legion’s wrath?" The Governor’s secretary’s voice carried a hint of threat, trying to force the other to concede.

However, the man remained unfazed, merely taking a torch from his companion before setting the flag draped across his shoulder on fire.

It was the one pulled down from the Governor’s Mansion.

He had already used this flag to prove his "Lion King" status, keeping it was useless.

Though he’s from the Wolf clan, having a wolf lead a pride of lions is not out of the question.

Watching the burning military flag, the Governor’s secretary’s face was full of anger.

The man tossed the burning flag aside, then grinned, pressing a gun to his head.

"I was thrown by you to fight with the Alliance, against Laxi, and finally dumped here to rot. Believe me, I’ve heard ten times more lies than anyone here, so I’m more aware of what people like you are really about... There’s not a single word that comes out of your mouths that’s credible."

Negotiation is absolutely not a way to survival, especially negotiating now.

The only way he could live was by dragging everyone in Lion State into this, spreading the flames that started from the warehouse district to even further.

Like Tiandu.

He needed to capture Tiandu, become the master of Poluo Province to truly gain the capital to negotiate with the Legion.

And even if things got worse, he could still switch sides to the Alliance.

Looking at this already insane guy, a bit of sweat broke out on the Governor’s secretary’s forehead, continuously glancing at the gun pressed on his head.

"So you’re not going to negotiate..."

The man laughed.

"My name is Anush, like most people here, until tonight I was an unknown small fry... But I vow that from now on, my name will resonate across the continent."

He didn’t pull the trigger, didn’t even take off the safety, just waved to his companion beside him.

"Bury this big nose in the red soil."

He paused, then added.

"Remember, bury him alive."

"Let him be reincarnated here in his next life, to taste the suffering we’ve endured."

As two mobs held his arms and dragged him away, the Governor’s secretary’s eyes widened, staring at him, angrily shouting.

"You bastard... Do you even know what you’re doing? You’re on a path to self-destruction!"

Anush paid no attention to the doomed man, instead looking at his companions behind him, then at the brightly lit, crowded pier.

He smirked viciously, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Enjoy your victory! Do whatever you want, this is your well-deserved reward!"

"And those who have humiliated us all along, it’s time they pay some interest for their foolishness."

"This is what they deserve! Settle things with these bastards for me!"

"Woohooo!!"

Enthusiastic cheers erupted around, pairs of eyes gleamed green.

Thanks to General Arai Yang’s scorched-earth strategy, he had tasted a hint of despair at Mammoth State’s boundaries, but had yet to taste the Weilante people’s.

A race born for battle, surely they would prove as untamable as a fierce horse.

He hoped they wouldn’t disappoint him.