CHAPTER 823: CHAPTER 823: THE END OF BLOODSHED

"Sir, sir... it’s all my fault, I deserve to die... I shouldn’t have..."

Beside the dock at West Sail Port.

Nagi, tied up in a tight bind, knelt trembling on the ground with his pants soaked, his mouth quivering as he begged for mercy, cursing himself for being utterly worthless.

However, things couldn’t have been worse for him, as he cursed himself right at a critical point, his tongue stumbled and suddenly forgot from which "not supposed to" he should begin his self-blame.

The nearby flames flickered, and after a moment, he finally adjusted to the darkness here.

It was at this time that he saw the thick blood slurry on the ground, the sausages hanging on the broken wooden crates, and the discarded, white flesh on the street... his stomach churned, almost causing him to retch.

"Ah—!"

After a bout of dry heaving, he quickly continued to tremble and plead for forgiveness.

Anush watched his expressions with a smirk, as though admiring a wild dog with its limbs broken.

"Yes, yes... Orisa," Nagi finally remembered the name, pleadingly looking around at the people surrounding him. "It’s all my fault... I’m the one who killed him! I beg you to give me a chance to atone for my sins..."

No matter if he was responsible for the death or not, he had to take this blame upon himself.

He understood.

This group didn’t care for any reasoning, only complying with their wishes would appease them.

It seemed that Anush had enough of his performance, or maybe he hadn’t enjoyed the taste of the Vellante people enough, he yawned and gestured to the person beside him.

"String this vile creature up, using the flagpole at the entrance of the Governor’s Mansion."

Nagi, still in a daze kneeling on the ground, and the surrounding laborers also hadn’t grasped what was happening.

Yet some quick-witted individuals caught on, immediately showing either sneers or other intriguing expressions.

"This is a great idea!"

"High up!"

"Truly the boss!"

In the end, only Nagi was left in the dark, bewildered and terrified as he watched those approaching him.

"You, you all... what do you intend to... Ah ah ah! No—! Let me go!"

The people ignored his screams and pleas, carried with no mercy, dragging his arms towards the direction of the Governor’s Mansion...

...

After the Vellante people’s defeat, the thousand team commander of the West Sail Port city’s defense forces immediately vanished without a trace.

He was well aware of the character of the people under him.

Moreover, they only had a thousand men team, their weapons and equipment weren’t much stronger than the guard squad’s, at most with some artillery and such.

Having just these was useless, the explosion originated from within the fortress.

Not to mention that their firepower was thoroughly suppressed by the rebels, even in numbers they couldn’t withstand a blow.

Not to mention, the rebels mixed with some old soldiers from the Grey Wolf Army.

Anush personally led people into the city defense forces’ station, and it was after "finishing the affair."

He thought there might be a fierce battle, yet didn’t expect the thousand team commander of this group to flee directly, and the remaining people, seeing a sea of people outside, simply raised the white flag in surrender.

Disarmament took these leaderless stragglers, and Anush didn’t treat them like the lion clan people at the port, only breaking them up and integrating them into his own team, instructing those Centurions, Centurions to keep an eye on those who came from the city defense forces, then returned to the harbor district to continue the ongoing "celebration."

The "celebration" lasted till three in the morning, only replaced by the sound of deep snoring as the hoarse screams ceased.

The rioters finally had their fill, and the entire West Sail Port was eerily quiet, as if it had fallen asleep.

And frighteningly quiet.

All residents shut their windows and doors tightly, fearing any sound would attract those "rebels" with cloth strips on their arms.

The slogans they shouted were loud, not only to kill all Vellante people but also to slay all nobles and lackeys collaborating with the Vellante people, establishing a state of absolute equality... yet ultimately, it wasn’t just the Vellante people who were slain.

Nagi was the first to be settled.

Of course, he truly deserved it.

Ironically, the one who betrayed him was his own comrade from the long rod team—a Slave he had just recently redeemed.

Actually, if he hadn’t been betrayed, it’s hard to say if he would have survived.

After all, his hiding place was quite unfortunate; seeing things going awry, he found an empty residence of the Vellante people to hide.

He thought the rioters wouldn’t dare to touch the Vellante people, yet didn’t expect them to be reckless enough to break in directly with a kick.

Angry crowds ignored his cries, dragging him to the port, humiliating him first, then stringing him up on the charred flagpole.

And stringing him from bottom to top.

It is said that at the beginning, he could still scream, but later, due to unbearable pain, he bit off his tongue root, fainting dead away.

As for the "long rods" who sold out Nagi, they ended up without benefits.

Furious insurgents took revenge for grievances, revenge for enmity, gripping the long rods once used against them, nearly beating them to pulp.

That’s not the end.

The real reckoning was just beginning!

Those who wore Vellante outfits, used Vellante goods, worked for Vellante people, or had Dinars but didn’t have cloth on their arms, or were otherwise unrelated characters also fell to that blade by accident.

Like Gowenda’s neighbor.

Just that guy had nerves weak enough, that "Bayonet" didn’t draw blood.

People were terrified by this bloodthirsty horde.

Perhaps even among those, some were shocked by their own actions, yet at this point, only tying their sleeves tighter could suffice.

Otherwise, not to mention Vellante’s retaliation, they might first be accidentally injured by their own kind.

But those drenched in blood yet clear-headed were indeed few.

The majority blinded by fury, driven by victorious delusion, even considering not discussing army but pondering conquering Tiandu and marching all the way to Triumph City!

Not due to Anush’s incitement, but genuinely believing in their hearts.

After all, those hundreds to thousands of cannon fodder lying dead on the street hardly counted as people?

Yet on the port, they counted precisely, the exact tally was 61 Vellante guards, all brutally slain.

And the rest, whether citizens of West Sail Port or subordinates from other army colonies, didn’t total two hundred combined.

Some seemed to have escaped by undressing, which they didn’t bother to count closely.

What army.

Simply insignificant!

...

The church of the Silver Moon Sect.

Hiding under the curtains, Yishel watched outside quietly, his brows tightly knitted.

The believer crouched beside him swallowed, speaking with a trembling voice.

"...These people have gone mad."

He had just witnessed firsthand as several cloth-tied individuals kicked open the door, dragging a family out.

The man seemed to be the security at the labor registration office, and he had some impression of the guy, who appeared to be from the Horse Tribe.

However, precisely because of that impression, he knew that guy definitely didn’t deserve to die...

But those people obviously didn’t care about that. From the room came the sounds of things being smashed, the man’s roars, the cries of children, the screams of women, and finally the gunshot that ended everything abruptly.

Watching the devils walk out of the door, Yishel gritted his teeth fiercely, wishing he could bite his gums to bleeding.

He couldn’t believe these guys were his compatriots. Even if they were persecuting the Weilante people, it would at least make him feel a little better inside...

But what tormented him more was the towering image in his heart collapsing bit by bit.

He had once worshiped "Bol" immensely.

He once believed that people could unite, even if they were a group of people who had nothing and were barely literate.

However, reality gave him a harsh slap in the face.

In the end, he suddenly realized that he, who was speaking nonsense, was the clown pushed to the corner by everyone with sticks—just like that character "Ken" in Awakener Bol.

The snow of Giant Stone City fell in his heart again and again, burying all hope and beauty.

He wrote all his hatred in his eyes.

He hated the army, hated the empire, but hated these vermin in front of him even more!

If one day in the future, the survivors of Poluo Province can finally walk out of this humiliated memory, the person who leads them out of the wasteland will definitely stomp these devils underfoot and bury every single one of them in that red soil!

It will definitely happen!

The leader obviously noticed his gaze but smiled indifferently, even provocatively made a gesture toward him, as if to say, "Come out and talk if you dare."

Perhaps there was an order from above, temporarily not allowed to touch this church with a moon hanging on it. Patrols had passed by here several times, and indeed none had come up to knock on the door.

Yet even so, no one dared to relax, as no one could say how long this order would last.

After all, these people were unreasonable, doing whatever they thought of. Wherever they marched was wherever they settled, and changing their minds was as simple as patting their heads.

"...There are too many Weilante people left here, we shouldn’t have taken them in."

A believer looked back, swallowed, and said tremblingly.

There were over two hundred Weilante people hiding here, even more than the believers of this place.

Most of them were women, and there were some children. Their eyes were filled with terror.

"This has nothing to do with who they are... We aim to abolish the privileges of the nobles, the privileges of outsiders, not to slaughter defenseless people, otherwise... we will sooner or later become the devils we once feared."

Yishel’s words suddenly stopped because he realized this rhetoric couldn’t convince anyone.

He was still trying to mimic those guys.

At that moment, he suddenly understood what Mr. Melgio said to him before the sun went down.

Going on like this wouldn’t work...

Taking a deep breath, he changed his tone and continued speaking in a narrative style that all Poluo Province people could understand.

"...Think about it, the colonies of the Weilante people aren’t too far from here. When the army units come, those outside will die sooner or later. If we want to survive, we have to prove we’re innocent... they are the best evidence. If they die, none of us will survive. But as long as they’re alive, not only can we live, but our families can live too."

A look of understanding finally appeared in pairs of eyes, and those who were struggling or hesitating settled down, no longer mentioning driving those people away.

At least one person had to remember that not everyone in this city was crazy.

Otherwise, as Yishel said, they might all be buried in the ground, accompanying the madmen in death...

Sitting on the edge of the crowd, Margaret’s face was pale, her forehead covered in sweat, still unsettled from the previous scare.

At that time, without thinking, she even left her luggage behind, holding Ruby’s hand and running out while the battle was still ongoing, escaping the port area and hiding in this church.

Many others had the same thought, but only about a hundred succeeded.

She couldn’t bear to imagine...

What a tragic fate she and Ruby would have met if they had taken a wrong step then...

"Mama..."

"Don’t be afraid," Margaret held Ruby’s little hand tightly, trying to keep her voice from trembling as she softly comforted her, "it’s going to be okay... Aren’t you going to play with sister An Su Ya? You’ll see her soon, and you don’t want her to see a Ruby who cries at the first sign of trouble, do you? She really admires you."

With reddened eyes, Ruby nodded but then shook her head, ultimately holding back the tears that were about to spill, and didn’t cry.

Margaret squeezed out a slight smile on her face and gently wiped away her tears.

"So good..."

"Weilante people don’t cry; our tears dried up the moment we were born."

The church was silent.

Besides the whispers and quiet sobbing, no one was actually crying out loud.

Looking at the Weilante people hiding in the church, Melgio’s face was full of worry.

The elderly nun standing by him said in a very low and soft voice.

"Our food isn’t enough for so many people to eat, not even for one meal. And if those rebels find out there are so many Weilante people hidden here... they’ll tear everyone here apart."

"I know..."

Melgio stared at the bright moonlight outside the window, sighed softly, and said.

"But I can’t just leave these poor people alone..."

Although he hadn’t been to the port, just from hearing the piercing screams, he could imagine what had happened there.

Even if he didn’t like the Weilante people, even detested the sight of their noses, he still couldn’t push these innocent people into the pit of fire... even though he himself was standing at the edge of that pit.

This was not only because of the teachings of the Silver Moon Goddess and the Spirit of the Sand Sea but also because of his conscience.

"I know... We can’t abandon them, but letting them stay here isn’t a solution," the old nun said, her face full of bitterness, lowering her voice, "we need to find a way to send them out of the city... Only outside the city will they truly be safe."

The rebels had only just seized control of the port and hadn’t fully grasped the entire settlement.

If we want to get out of the city, now might be the only chance...

But how could so many Weilante people leave?

Melgio’s face was filled with worry, and just then a knock on the door sounded, instantly putting the hearts of everyone in the church in their throats.

"Knock, knock—"

The clear sound of knocking was like the footsteps of death.

Sitting on the bench like her fellow compatriots here, Margaret involuntarily held her breath and tightly gripped her daughter’s small hand.

However, at this moment, a low and gentle call floated in from outside the tightly closed door.

"Is Miss Margaret in there? I’m the old servant of Sharma... If you are in there, please respond."

Hearing the voice, Margaret excitedly covered her mouth, then raised her hand to indicate that she was the person being called from outside.

Pairs of eyes looked toward her, including that of Yishel standing at the door.

Yishel was uncertain and looked towards Pastor Melgio standing in the church.

The latter was silent for a moment and then nodded.

"...Open the door."

Staying hidden here would surely lead to death; perhaps the person coming in might have a solution.

As the church door opened, an elderly man with a still sturdy build, accompanied by a man with a cloth wrapped around his arm, walked in.

Seeing the cloth wrapped around the arm, Yishel widened his eyes in an instant, and everyone nearby gripped their weapons.

They’re Anush’s people!

We can’t let this guy go back alive!

As if sensing the murderous intent in those eyes, the old man quickly raised his hand.

"Don’t be impulsive... Sahadu is Count Sharma’s servant. This is my nephew, named Paven. He may have done something stupid, but I can stake my life on it, he’s different from those outsiders, he’s had a timely awakening."

The young man named Paven was obviously frightened too, but seeing Sahadu’s gaze, he collected himself and hastily explained.

"I... I was forced, those guys kill at sight..."

"How can I trust you." Yishel lowered his voice, tightening his grip on the knife in his hand.

Paven swallowed, speaking with a trembling voice.

"I can’t make you trust me... but anyone who’s not mad should know those guys are doomed. Not to mention the Alliance won’t help them, even that devil Laxi probably won’t lend them a hand. I don’t want to die... is that reason enough?"

"That’s enough, your reasoning is clear," Yishel walked up and patted him on the shoulder, then pulled him aside, "Please forgive my earlier offense, we are forced like you."

After a pause, he continued.

"Do you have a way out?"

Paven nodded swiftly, speaking quickly.

"Yes... I can be considered a Centurion, and in another ten minutes or so, around four in the morning, this street will be under my watch. I’ll think of a way to disperse people then. Many have had fun all night at the harbor, I reckon four o’clock will be when patrols are laxest."

Noticing the looks of longing directed at him, Paven felt a slight chill on his scalp, and spoke softly.

"... It’s unrealistic for everyone to escape, but a few people should be manageable."

The old butler named Sahadu hurriedly added.

"I have a carriage parked outside the city... It’s here to take Lady Margaret and Miss Ruby back."

Margaret asked anxiously.

"Can you get a few more carriages over?"

Sahadu swallowed, nodding quickly.

"It should be possible... but only after returning to the master’s estate, I currently have no way to contact the master."

He actually didn’t want to stir up more trouble, undertaking a big risk by coming into the city at this critical juncture, a slight oversight could cost him and his nephew their lives.

Margaret bit her lip, holding Ruby’s small hand tightly, then gave the maid beside her a look and stood up from the chair.

"Wait for me here... once I’m out, I’ll surely bring people to rescue you all!"

She wouldn’t abandon her compatriots.

Recently, she’s been persuading Count Sharma within their circle.

Didn’t that guy always long for ascending to the core power circle of Tiandu with the help of the Vellante people?

This opportunity is right in front of him!

If he can save some people, even if only ten or twenty, once the situation calms down, he could at least be granted a duke’s title!

"The Silver Moon Goddess has witnessed your vow... Go, my lady," Melgio said softly, "I trust you won’t forget your compatriots."

Margaret earnestly nodded.

"I promise, I swear on my little Ruby—"

No sooner had she finished speaking, a devilish voice abruptly drifted in from outside the door.

Everyone’s heart froze at that moment, as if under a spell.

"Ruby? Tsk tsk... What a beautiful name."

...

The Imperial Palace in Tiandu.

Witch Camel was soundly sleeping in the sleeping palace, dreaming sweet dreams of battleships and West Winds currency.

Yet at this moment, a flurry of hurried footsteps and an urgent report suddenly jerked him awake from his dream.

"Your Majesty! Something terrible has happened! Rebels, rebels—"

"Rebels?" Quickly sitting up from the bed, Witch Camel hastily tidied himself and glared at the eunuch kneeling on one knee, asking, "Where has the rebellion occurred again?"

The eunuch dared not even breathe heavily, pressing his head firmly against the gold-trimmed plush carpet.

"... West Sail Port! It’s West Sail Port!"

West Sail Port?

Witch Camel was momentarily stunned, the broken off sleepiness once again stirred up within him, as he rubbed his brow and spoke.

"Isn’t it the Vellante people’s territory... Didn’t I entrust it to them for management?"

The eunuch, with a bitter expression, continued.

"That’s true... But the problem lies with those very Vellante people, those laborers somehow found the courage of bears and leopards, and actually seized the weapons stored in the port warehouse by the Vellante people, capturing West Sail Port!"

Witch Camel’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, his mouth hung open as he froze on the bed.

They...

They captured the Vellante people’s port?!

He himself had no idea that those inferiors under him were even capable of such a feat!

No—

If they were truly this formidable, how could they have fared so poorly on Ten Peaks Mountain?

Due to the Expeditionary Army’s utter embarrassment, he hadn’t even bothered to issue a decree to recall them, instead letting them stay on the small enclave the Empire had in the Haiye Province.

Seeing the stunned expression of the Emperor, the eunuch stammered.

"Those rebels have already occupied the port... The Vellante people residing there are now in grave danger, I’m concerned the Army will shift their anger onto us, we should devise a plan to save the people there."

Witch Camel, coming back to his senses, instinctively thought of seeking aid from the Army, but quickly realized that both Governor Hue and General McCullen had gone home for the holidays.

To be precise, for the "Birthdate" celebration following New Year’s second weekend.

Witch Camel got out of bed, pacing back and forth anxiously.

Suddenly, he had a revelation and hurriedly walked to the eunuch, looking down at him and asking.

"Where are the soldiers General McCullen trained? Aren’t there some still in Lion State?"

The eunuch said with a mournful face.

"Those are just some officers and non-commissioned officers, even combined they barely make a force over 1000, not enough to counter those rebels..."

Witch Camel anxiously asked.

"Just how many rebels are there!"

"I, I’m not sure... The exact number is unclear, some reports say fifty to sixty thousand, others say over a hundred thousand." The eunuch swallowed hard, speaking in a panic, "Your Majesty... Issue a decree, dispatching your Imperial Guard troops is the only way to potentially eliminate those guys!"

In Witch Camel’s mind, thoughts were racing swiftly, he absolutely couldn’t ignore this matter.

If he turned a blind eye, the Vellante people would most certainly hold him accountable later.

However, he not only had to consider the Vellante people’s safety, but also his own!

Right now, the Grey Wolf Army was engaged in Mammoth State, leaving the Imperial Guard as his last line of defense.

If he dispatched his Imperial Guard, who would then protect his safety?

Rely on Tiandu’s city defense army?

The most disgraceful part of the Western Empire is this bunch of things, those muddy-smelling paupers are completely useless!

Sending the city defense army over is obviously no good either, that’s almost equivalent to sending people to their deaths.

Choosing the lesser evil, Witch Camel gritted his teeth and made a decisive decision.

"Assemble the Lion State’s local troops!"

The eunuch was taken aback for a moment, he remembered that the emperor had repeatedly emphasized not only to guard against the Alliance but also to guard against local forces taking the opportunity to grow.

Both would harm the Empire fundamentally.

If the local army in Lion State is assembled, isn’t that equivalent to replicating another Tiger State and Leopard State to the west?!

The local nobles would certainly be happy to recruit soldiers, but wanting those soldiers to lay down arms and return to fields would be difficult.

"But——"

"Lion State has the Weilante people, the local forces are not enough to fear even if they grow, no need to say more, just do as I say!" Witch Camel’s eyes gleamed with determination, which made the eunuch kneeling on the ground trembled.

He wasn’t scared wet by the emperor’s majestic aura, he rarely peed without the aid of a pipe, but every decision made by his respected emperor was never for good, he worried this time would be the same.

How about discussing it with the cabinet before deciding?

He indeed thought so in his heart but dared not say anything, could only respond timidly.

"Yes..."

Just as the emperor’s edict and messengers were rushing towards Lion State on horseback, the Sun of the second day had freshly descended upon the blood-stained port.

The stench of rot spread across the entire wharf, attracting countless flies and rats, and the vultures soaring in the sky...

No one could count how many people died last night, but one thing certain is the purge was thorough enough, even that Kent in Giant Stone City, who inwardly looked down upon the Workers’ Association and thought they were no different from the Inner City Nobles, would be left speechless.

Enough people died this time.

And it was thorough enough.

Just felt... something was slightly off.

Thus, the bloody revelry continued for two days and nights.

Until the third morning, Anush finally remembered what he needed to do and recognized all his supporters, then raised his arm and, with the slaves who broke free from their shackles and chains, left the city, saying they were going to rescue more slaves.

Slavery had to be abolished, as proven by the examples of West Sail Port and Jinjaron Harbor, in this world, there exists a chain more reliable than a contract, and in the future, the new Empire must use this thing.

Thinking about what he had to do made him tremble with excitement, his face glowing red.

It was at this time that he suddenly felt the title of "King" was too small to describe his achievements.

So, he bestowed it upon his subordinates and even divided thirteen kings corresponding to the thirteen states of Poluo Province.

As for himself, he proclaimed himself as the Heavenly King, the only king under the heaven!

To make his title sound more impressive, he incorporated legends of the celestial wolf devouring the sun, saying that the Wolf Tribe had long awaited this moment, and he was the one chosen by the Wolf God.

As for the future capital of the new Empire, it would be set in Wolf State, his hometown.

He gathered no less than two hundred thousand under his command, mostly slaves and serfs.

They weren’t all from West Sail Port, some were from nearby estates.

Ironically, the dock workers who started the fire were actually the minority in the ranks...

That was inevitable.

After all, although West Sail Port gathered 99% of Lion State’s wealth, its population only accounted for a little more than one-ninth of the entire state.

All the rebels knew they couldn’t stir up trouble with just that number, they must involve more people and spread the fire further, only then could they have a hope to survive!

Moreover, since they decided to take major action, they naturally couldn’t call themselves rebels.

Anush quickly gave his organization a name, calling it the Heavenly King Salvation Army, abbreviated as the Heavenly Army!

It might sound rustic, but being intimidating was enough, after all, his subordinates weren’t literate folks.

And most importantly, he himself couldn’t think of a better name and could only cram something awe-inspiring in.

To be honest, this name did surprise a man who had just returned to City of Dawn from the southern sea area for New Year’s.

Heavenly Army!

This name sounded like "Celestial Weather"?

When the intelligence about the "Heavenly Army" finally reached Chu Guang, it was already the fourth morning after the "West Sail Port Massacre" occurred.

Which was New Year’s Day of the Wasteland Era 214.

Meanwhile, the thousand team led by Ross finally approached West Sail Port, ready to start offering support.

The mission involved two transport ships, one supply ship, and one shallow water heavy artillery boat.

Despite being called coastal ships, these things could actually sail in open sea.

The Army didn’t master Mind Interference Technology, but specific frequency sound waves emitted by sonar devices could also drive off some dangerous Variants.

After unloading supplies, the two transport ships and one supply ship were set to immediately start evacuation missions.

While the shallow water heavy artillery boat would stay by the shore for support.

The plan was perfect.

It’s just a pity that no matter how you looked at it, they came too late...

Gazing at the chaotic and bloody port, Ross felt a wave of dizziness, almost fainting.

With his hands gripping the railing of the ship’s railing tightly to steady himself, the paint chips dug into the flesh.

Standing next to him, McCullen, with a similarly grim expression, was holding binoculars, staring coldly at the port.

On top of the Governor’s Mansion stood a charred flagpole, strung with a corpse almost completely picked apart by crows, leaving only bones and scraps of flesh...

And more remained on the open space, blood nearly dyed every brick red.

It seemed to be a provocation to the Army.

More laughably, there were a few of their 100mm cannons gifted to the locals still set at the port.

Those toothpick-like things just stood there, motionless, facing them.

The artillerymen and soldiers squatting at the port seemed to pay no heed to the four ships at all.

"Beasts..."

Chewing on the word a thousand times, Ross finally let go of the almost twisted railing, looking behind him.

It wasn’t just him.

On the deck, all the soldiers were ignited with fury, eyes glaring with rage, their faces steely as cold as blades.

"Looters..."

Ross pointed a trembling finger in the direction of the port, his expression gradually twisted.

Then, he quickly pulled the walkie-talkie hanging on his shoulder and roared in nearly a howl.

"Naval guns! Load shells!"

"Fire at will——!!!"

"Keep firing until I say stop!!"