CHAPTER 881: CHAPTER 881: WAR OF ATTRITION

Although Tiandu City of Poluo Country was defended, the collapse of the Heavenly Palace brought a lot of trouble to Absek.

It’s not just because of the rumors among the people and the opportunistic criticisms from various factions, but also, to a large extent, because of his own reasons.

Like most Poluo people, he inherently carried a superstitious trait, but once he assumed the position of Great Leader, he denied it, even going as far as keeping up with the trend by reciting the materialistic and atheistic scriptures of the Alliance.

At first, it was somewhat effective. Any phrase repeated enough times might give off the illusion of truth.

Especially during the educational reforms, Absek once saw himself as a true material warrior, even mistaking that airhead Kaba Ha as a comrade, forgetting that those reformist officers were his true allies.

However, self-reassurance is ultimately a superficial cure.

Even though he deliberately avoided sitting in the emperor’s chair and even specially constructed a Governor’s Mansion to emphasize to everyone that his legitimacy had nothing to do with the Heavenly Palace, the collapse of the Heavenly Palace still left him "defenseless."

In actuality, it also can’t be entirely blamed on his poor psychological endurance; part of the blame lies with the Academy.

In his understanding, no survivor organization on the entire Wasteland understood science better than the Academy.

As a result, just as the Academy assured him the Heavenly Palace would float in the sky for another ten to twenty years, it suddenly fell to the ground.

This made it hard for him not to doubt the Academy and even science itself, thus doubting himself.

Is there really some kind of existence in the void, manipulating all this with an invisible hand?

Just like that, his suspicion reared its head once more.

Almost every night, he would have nightmares, and in them, Anush’s devilish, sneering face would always appear.

Clearly, it was Anvo who fired the shot, yet that demon seemed to know who killed him.

That guy didn’t even come to exact revenge, just stood outside the window, tormenting him with intermittent, fragmented sounds.

Sometimes Absek couldn’t sleep all night being tormented, the next day he would review files at the Governor’s Mansion with red eyes, or if he couldn’t stay awake any longer, he would sleep like a log until noon in the second half of the night.

This issue he dared not confide in anyone, after all, if rumors spread that the Great Leader was haunted by a ghost, it might be used by opposition within the Federation.

The only person he could confide in was the Messenger from the Alliance.

For one, the other party had no interest in interfering with internal affairs of Poluo, and secondly, he could feel they genuinely believed what he said and were true materialists.

However, upon hearing his troubles, Eagle gave a helpless expression.

"...Forgive me for saying this, but you’re being paranoid."

"I know, I’ve tried to think this way, but it’s completely useless, it’s like there’s someone living in my head..." Absek sighed, suddenly having a thought, nervously saying, "Do you think it might be some kind of Mind Interference influence?"

Seeing the suspicious Absek, Eagle shook his head and patiently explained.

"Those kinds of devices have negligible effect on humans with complete minds... Although not entirely ineffective, at most they convey one or two messages, making it impossible for you to dream of a specific person."

Moreover, those things are not directed, usually covering an entire area.

If it really were the influence of a Mind Interference Device, it wouldn’t just affect him alone.

In other words, it’s his own inner demon, and overcoming it can only rely on himself.

Thinking for a moment, Eagle tentatively asked.

"How about... you see a psychologist?"

The Alliance has quite a few psychologists.

The threshold is there, but not too high, and the market demand is not small at all.

Not only Waste Land Wanderers returning to civilized society, but also survivors rescued by players from the Looter’s dungeon have mostly consulted psychologists, it’s nothing shameful, and health insurance can even cover it.

Upon hearing this, Absek immediately shook his head and declined with a bitter smile.

"Forget it... If I go for treatment, it might cause more rumors to spread."

Eagle sighed.

"Unfortunately, I’m afraid I can’t help you with this."

Seeing Eagle’s regret, Absek laughed heartily and joked.

"What are you saying, after talking with you, I feel much more at ease, maybe I’ll have a good night’s sleep tonight."

He didn’t expect anyone could help him, he just wanted to confide in an outsider.

Seeing the distress in his heart, Eagle suddenly thought of the recent Silver Moon Sect priests who came to Tiandu to help refugees and preach, then spoke up.

"...If you don’t want to see a psychologist, you might as well talk to the Silver Moon Sect priests."

Absek was taken aback.

"Priests?"

Eagle nodded.

"Although we are atheists, we never deny the value of faith as spiritual solace. If you’re interested, you can learn about it... Of course, it’s just a suggestion."

Persuading someone to quit smoking by saying smoking is harmful is ineffective.

Similarly, convincing a superstitious person by saying "ghosts don’t exist" is just wishful thinking of the preacher.

Rather than letting him struggle with his inner torment, it’s better to let him believe in something less harmful, it’s also a way to peacefully face one’s heart.

Eagle suddenly felt he was simply a genius.

Not only was he skilled in diplomacy, but he could also do the work of a psychologist.

It seemed Absek was moved, and after pondering for a moment, he nodded earnestly.

"... I’ll think about it."

The meeting came to an end.

After sending off the Alliance’s messenger, Absek paced around the office a few times. Finally, he picked up the phone and gave orders to invite the pastor from Silver Moon Bay to the Governor’s Mansion under the pretense of discussing refugee aid.

The two met in the reception room.

After some pleasantries, Absek didn’t beat around the bush and with a smile asked directly.

"Does your Silver Moon Sect have something like a pope?"

This was what he was most concerned about.

Although he wanted something to hang on to spiritually, he did not wish to have someone lording over him.

Unaware of the leader’s concerns, the pastor just smiled warmly and said.

"We are different from our compatriots who believe in the Spirit of the Sand Sea; we do not serve a living person, so we have no pope."

The Silver Moon Sect itself was a new interpretation of the doctrine of the Spirit of the Sand Sea made by merchants from Silver Moon Bay to shirk worship and to sail legally. Therefore, it is relatively loose in terms of rituals and organization.

Although the Camel Hump Kingdom has a pope, he is not the pope of the Silver Moon Sect or Silver Moon Bay, but only of the Spirit of the Sand Sea and Camel City.

"No pope, that’s quite good."

Absek approvingly nodded his head, then suddenly changed the subject and asked.

"What about the doctrine? Do you have anything that forces others to believe in you, or brainwashes people, or exploits faith to amass wealth and persecute dissidents?"

Absek laid out all his concerns in one go but then felt his question was too pointed, so he softened his tone and said with a smile.

"Don’t get me wrong, pastor, I’m not saying you have these issues, just asking just in case... After all, the people of Poluo are simple and kind-hearted, and I’m just worried about them being misled by cults."

"I understand," the pastor smiled gently and paused for a moment, taking a book, "THE HOLY BOOK," from his bosom and handed it to Absek, "While I can address your concerns, I cannot eliminate your worries. Since you have so many concerns about us, why not find the answer yourself?"

Taking the "THE HOLY BOOK," Absek weighed it in his hand.

"Can I find out through this book?"

The pastor continued in a gentle tone.

"To fully understand someone, you not only have to listen to their words but also observe their deeds. If you truly wish to understand us comprehensively, the content of a book alone is undoubtedly insufficient, but it can at least be the beginning of us getting to know each other."

Absek raised his eyebrows slightly, then smiled and tucked the book into his chest.

"Looks like I need to get a cat."

Hearing the amusing tone, the pastor smiled warmly and continued.

"Although cats are our sacred objects, we do not require every believer to have one. In fact, quite the opposite; instead of raising and worshipping them, our doctrine encourages believers to interact with these little spirits as friends, offering them necessary help only when they need it."

Absek rubbed his chin with interest.

"Is there any mystery within this?"

The pastor smiled and said.

"Nothing too mysterious; in our doctrine, cats are the pets of the Silver Moon Goddess, her eyes, and her incarnations in the Mortal World. We believe she, who wanders all year round, longs for freedom. So unless those little spirits actively stay by our side, we usually don’t keep them."

Overjoyed at this, Absek exclaimed.

Incarnations in the Mortal World!

Doesn’t that mean they can ward off evil?!

Thinking about finally having a way to dispel the specters that tormented him daily, he stood up excitedly.

"That’s wonderful! I also like cats! Sir, could you advise me on how many I should keep for a benefit?"

The pastor stared blankly at Absek, unsure why he was suddenly so delighted, but after composing himself, he continued.

"Well... there’s no specific number. But if you, Chief, like cats, I could indeed gift you one... that’s quite friendly."

Absek looked eager.

"It doesn’t matter if they’re friendly; as long as they can ward off evil, that’s fine!"

Pastor: "...?"

...

Ever since meeting the pastor from the Silver Moon Sect, many cats suddenly appeared in the Governor’s Mansion.

Absek publicly claimed it was a gift from the Silver Moon Sect, though some said the gift was only one cat, and most were actually bought from merchants from Silver Moon Bay.

Everyone was puzzled, but they said nothing. After all, doesn’t everyone have their hobbies?

Duwata liked women, Shaluk liked gold and silver, Negri liked collecting the Alliance’s artworks, at least Lord Absek’s hobby was relatively economical.

Cats eat less than humans, and those cats didn’t seem to be any exotic breeds.

At least not for now.

Moreover, since keeping cats, Absek, who used to be listless and lethargic, suddenly became energetic again, as if he had found a new lease on life.

Even Duwata, who teased him about being ineffectual behind his back, was now unsure.

As the saying goes, there is always something people like, and those below follow suit.

Since the chief himself liked keeping cats, some officials followed suit, making cat keeping a trend in Tiandu’s high society for a while, and cats temporarily escaped the local folk’s menus.

Only Kaba Committee Member shook his head and sighed, still publicly criticizing Absek for being wasteful.

There are still many people in Poluo Country who cannot get enough to eat.

As the leader, if not setting an example, at least should be more restrained.

Upon hearing this, Absek didn’t get angry; instead, he laughed heartily and instructed the internal affairs to send a clingy little cutie for him to raise, also ordering that it must not die, reports must be filed weekly, or else he’d punish him.

Kaba Ha was so angry that he gnashed his teeth, but writing couldn’t replace firearms, so he had to swallow his pride.

A week passed.

Absek smiled as he looked at the report handed over by Wadia of internal affairs.

The report had only two words, "It’s alive."

It was clear that Committee Member Kaba Ha was still angry with him.

However, Absek didn’t mind and just smiled as he praised Wadia.

"This thing, the cat, is a good thing... ever since I started raising it, my temper has improved a lot."

Wadia managed a bitter smile and said.

"The leader is right."

Absek chuckled and continued.

"I’ve been thinking lately about whether we should also send some to the front-line soldiers."

Upon hearing this, Wadia hesitated and said.

"This... might not be a good idea."

Absek replied with a smile.

"Nothing wrong with it, really. Our warriors are human, not machines. Simply keeping them alive isn’t enough, we also have to pay attention to their mental health."

Wadia: "But... I’m worried that this might affect their combat efficiency."

Suddenly, Absek straightened his expression and looked at his internal affairs committee member.

"Mr. Wadia, have you ever been in the trenches?"

Wadia quickly shook his head and responded truthfully.

"No..."

"I have," Absek said, gazing out the window and squinting his eyes, "the place is practically hell, a tiny sound can make your nerves tense up. Spend two months in there and I guarantee that even if you stood in front of your own mother, she might not recognize you."

Sending a batch of cats to the front line wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment idea. He had previously consulted with people from the Alliance and heard that it’s been done elsewhere.

The soldiers in the trenches are in a constant state of tension, without some psychological comfort, it’s easy to develop psychological issues over time.

In fact, Alliance officers had early on raised this issue with them, suggesting that they should at least assign an "instructor" to each hundred-strong team, and if possible, down to the ten-man level.

This is indeed something he is working on, but training instructors takes time, and involving the entire systematic reform isn’t something that can be completed in a day.

In comparison, sending cats to the front line is a good stopgap measure.

Moreover, having a cat to catch mice wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Such places filled with the dead are practically a haven for mice; the first two pairs of leather boots he had were destroyed by rats, leaving him with his feet soaked during rainy days.

If Arai Yang had treated those brothers as humans back then, they wouldn’t have needed to rise up.

Treating it as a means to win people over, the money spent on this is worthwhile.

"Cats reproduce quickly and aren’t expensive, just arrange it as I said."

Seeing that the leader had made up his mind, Wadia no longer tried to dissuade him, nodding with an inner sense of helplessness.

"Yes!"

...

With the end of the siege of Tiandu City, the war between the West Winds pseudo-Empire and the countries of Poluo Province entered a new phase.

The combatants on both sides, as well as the underlying manipulators, have completely abandoned the fantasy of a "quick victory" and are prepared for prolonged warfare.

First, Emperor Akbar issued a mobilization decree and a proclamation condemning the rebels, listing twelve counts of disloyalty, impiety, and inhumane actions by the Poluo Country rebels and angrily condemning Absek for arousing public anger, bringing divine retribution, and vowing to mobilize a million troops from Lion State and Dog State to slay their enemies.

Following this, Poluo Country was not to be outdone, first listing thirteen counts against the pseudo-emperor, then abolishing the old Empire’s agreement with the Southern Legion concerning West Sail Port, mobilizing another sixty thousand reservists, swearing to fight the Legion to the end.

The reason for mobilizing only sixty thousand was not due to Poluo Country’s manpower reaching its limits, but because Absek had other plans.

Due to a series of reform measures by Poluo Country and the victories at the front, industrialists who previously had reservations about investing in Poluo’s industries have all changed their perspectives.

The arrival of pastors from the Silver Moon Sect was a clear sign.

The pastors sponsored by Silver Moon Bay merchants did indeed come to spread the gospel of the Silver Moon Goddess, but they were not merely doing charity and preaching. They would also assess the local customs, culture, and business environment.

After all, the donations they received weren’t for nothing.

If their financial backers wanted to build a church, they would naturally have to pay attention to whether the local conditions were suitable for their "seeds to sprout."

It was like casting a stone to gauge the depth of the water.

After all, religion itself is also a business model, and one of the most sophisticated ones at that.

Aside from the merchants of Silver Moon Bay, Alliance industrialists, who previously saw good returns on investments in Mammoth Nation, are also deeply interested in this land without Variant disturbances.

The local area is rich in manpower resources, and the Red Soil ensures a low cost of living for the locals, making it a prime location for setting up factories.

Especially for labor-intensive factories.

In addition, there are merchants from Jinjaron Harbor, Potato Harbor, and Fried Dough Stick Port.

Especially the Moon people traders.

Although the Witch Camel deeply hurt their feelings, they still held some affection for their homeland.

Moreover, before this, Anush restored the reputation of the Moon people, winning considerable goodwill for the Celestial Army among the Moon people community.

Even though the reformist officers led by Absek severed ties with the Celestial Army, it did not affect the inheritance of this goodwill.

Instead, by washing away all the blemishes, those reformist officers were looked upon more favorably by the Moon people.

With so many cards in hand, even a pig wouldn’t play too poorly.

Clearly, Absek wasn’t foolish enough to be below a pig and saw the opportunity at a glance.

Thus, rather than mobilizing all the young people to the front lines, he naturally preferred to guide them into the factories to work.

Therefore, after consulting the advice from the Alliance, Absek designated White Elephant City in the central part of Poluo Province as the central industrial zone, dedicating a full third of the fiscal budget to building railways and power grids in the area, while focusing on developing steelmaking, chemical, and heavy machinery manufacturing and other heavy industries, hoping to complement the industrial zones in Tiger State, Leopard State, and Lowell State.

Compared to the fragile agricultural economy of Poluo Country, this is undoubtedly a grand project.

However, if this plan could be realized, the local survivors might truly have hope to ignite the flame of industry, escaping the awkward situation of having to import even bicycles from Jinjaron Harbor.

And this would also be beneficial for the Alliance.

In the context of some feudal lords, the cake is an unchanging entity; the more people who cut it, the less everyone gets.

However, there exists another context in this world where the cake is not inherently present but is something that can be made larger.

As long as you don’t recklessly hack away wildly, there is always a way to let everyone get a share, or at least not get less and less as you cut.

As this ancient Empire slowly awakens, the officers on the Southern Legion front line were also thoroughly awakened.

They gradually realized the terrifying nature of the Alliance.

Not only because of the high fighting spirit of the volunteers but also because that high fighting spirit spreads like a virus, transforming the locals into beasts they need to deal with with all their might.

Due to unexplained weapons destroying airships, General Giulion, in the name of Akba, established a special agency consisting of locals to investigate the five crashed airships.

Meanwhile, Commander Ryan, commanding the eastern front, completely changed the previous aggressive maneuvering strategy, shifting to a steady approach.

The most noticeable change was his proactive withdrawal from the northeastern hills of Akale County, retreating from the bend of the river to the border area between Lion State and Ox State to dig trenches and build bunkers and forts.

This equates to relinquishing the floodplain previously under the control of the Southern Legion.

For the Southern Legion, this signifies the complete failure of their "blitzkrieg" and "defeat the Rebels within two months" boastings.

However, conversely, they could now solidify their positions, making the supply line to the rear more stable and avoiding alternating infiltrations and harassments from the Poluo Country and Mammoth Nation’s guerrilla teams.

This is obviously not good news for the disadvantaged Poluo Country.

On one hand, this signifies that the Southern Legion has become serious, making it harder for them to seize advantages.

On the other hand, the Southern Legion is now consciously trying to digest the already occupied lands, attempting to transform the occupied areas into their own turf.

However, correspondingly, the Poluo Country’s army has matured in this continuous battle, and many outstanding commanders have emerged during this period.

For example, the Ten Thousand Leader of the 3rd Ten Thousand Troops, Yishel.

Another would be the Ten Thousand Leader of the 11th Ten Thousand Troops, Yakale, among others.

Especially Yishel, who was particularly honored by receiving the nickname "Jungle Rat" granted by the Weylent people, as well as a bounty of one million dinars on his head.

This guy was as cunning as a mouse, mastering guerrilla and psychological warfare to a miraculous level.

The Weylent military officers who clashed with him remarked that given one cannon, he could produce the effect of two, and given a ten-man team, he could use it as if it were a hundred-man team, particularly in jungles and hills, making it impossible to defend against!

Another who received a "title" from the Weylent people was General Pickley of the 70th Ten Thousand Troops.

However, his fame wasn’t due to illustrious combat achievements but because of a photo published in the "Survivor’s Daily."

The Weylent soldiers privately referred to him as the "Butcher."

Compared to Yishel, his nickname was clearly more imposing and even appeared in the "Southern Corps Victory Report."

In terms of admiration for strength, the Weylent people have a lot in common with the Poluo people.

Compared to the cunning "Jungle Rat," the grassroots soldiers and officers of the Legion clearly appreciated the Ten Thousand Leader wielding a bayonet charge more.

Even if the head in his hands belonged to their compatriot, it did not hinder their admiration for the strong.

After all, within the "might is right" concept of jungle culture, there lies an underlying metaphor —

Namely, the weak kind are not worthy to be called compatriots.

They would feel indignant over the massacre at West Sail Port, as it is a contempt and insult against the abstract concept of "Weylent people."

However, the suffering of a specific person or certain category of people would only incur their ridicule.

And this has nothing to do with numbers; after all, the number forty thousand is far greater than three thousand in any calculation.

That night, each Weylent soldier who died or surrendered as a loser received no honor, only shame and ridicule...

As both sides started to show their true capabilities, the entire war entered a stalemate.

Every day on the front line, a lot of things happened, yet for people beyond the front line, it seemed as though nothing happened.

Time quickly progressed into August, as the muggy rainy season gradually approached its end; two more months until the dry season.

And at this time, a fleet from Death Coast approached Evernight Harbor at the southernmost part of the Great Desert.

The changes here were so significant that Yarman almost thought he had come to the wrong place.

-

(PS: Looking for a few IDs.)