by Feng Yue
After experiencing the attack of a catastrophe, the devastated Commonwealth of Caucasian was born again in a revolution known as the Liberation of Capital. At the moment, it could be said that it had cleared away its deficiencies and had the potential to become a great country. But the price of this turmoil was terrible famines and epidemics, as well as a severe lack of supplies.
How would the weak Commonwealth of Caucasian mobilize their national reserves? It would be difficult to reorganize their citizens in just a few months. Not to mention that more than half the citizens were refugees and were being hit with plague after plague…
The Commonwealth, which had lost all its provisions in the catastrophe’s attack and the several years of famine, had missed this year’s spring plowing.
Although they had a vast amount of land, land that they could cultivate was few and far between. Most of it was a snow-covered wasteland. They could only barely cultivate it once per year, and they could not even support themselves on such poor soil…
They were like a knight that could not even fill his own stomach. No matter how strong he was, he had to eat his fill before he could fight a battle.
But now the Commonwealth had declared war on Asgard…
Were they crazy?
In the chaotic conference room, the old musician sat down with a gloomy expression and listened to the quarrels of the officials representing the various clans. Finally, he grabbed the crystal ashtray beside him in anger and dashed it against the wall as hard as he could.
The noise rang out.
Everyone was stunned.
The old musician looked at them all coldly. After a while, he sat back down.
“Tell me, how have they solved their provision problems?” he asked coldly. “Which nation violated the treaty and sold grain to them? Why did our agents in the Commonwealth not report this to us?”
Everyone fell into an awkward silence.
After a while, someone with an unreadable expression passed over to him a photo that a spy had covertly taken
“I’m afraid it’s because of… a miracle?”
The old musician held the photograph silently, looking at the image on it. He fell into a long silence. In the photograph, a vast expanse of fertile farmland rose above what should have been a barren wasteland. Numerous heavy stalks of wheat grew out of the barren soil, bending under their own weight. The huge amount seemed to turn the entire field into a golden blanket. In the center of the wheatfield, there was the silhouette of someone holding wheat seeds and sprinkling them onto the barren ground beneath his feet. Everywhere he went, green sprouted from the earth.
“It is said that the Commonwealth’s granaries were filled overnight.” The Director of Intelligence loosened his bowtie, his face pale. “According to our private statistics, one acre of these d*mn seeds can produce over 100,000 kilograms of rice… Under the control of the Son of God, they can mature in one day and one night. And that’s not all. In the Caucasian hinterlands, dozens of abandoned mines have developed an abundant amount of rare mineral deposits overnight. This is not something that humans could have predicted, Your Excellency.” He hung his head in shame. “We couldn’t do anything.”
The old musician said nothing, just stared at the photograph before him. He silently lit a cigarette.
A miracle?
“Does anyone have a blanket?” The old musician closed his eyes. “I’m a little cold.”
727 Confidence
In wastelands of the Caucasus, between the tens of thousands of acres of fertile farmlands full of crops that sprouted and matured over one night, Paganini calculated the specific numbers and asked Charles, “It’s more or less enough already, no?”
In the wheat field, Charles held a handful of wheat, and seemingly endless seeds fell out of the gaps between his five fingers, landing on the ground. After he walked past, the seeds would sprout and take root…
The people behind hurried to keep up, watering and fertilizing the plants. After the short span of 15 minutes, another acre of land produced a terrifying amount of ripe wheat.
Charles took a break for a while.
Under the scorching sun, Charles wiped the sweat off his forehead with a wet towel, took out a canteen, and drank all the water in it. He exhaled deeply and answered Paganini’s question, “We can’t stop yet.” He shook his head and sighed. “The current wheat production is enough to supply the troops fighting at the front line, but many in the country still have nothing to eat.”
Paganini looked down at the bugs at his feet and suddenly asked, “Can you withstand it?”
“I just have to keep going throughout this period, and in the future, we’ll be able to enjoy generous amounts of meat and fish.” As compared to the past, Charles’ face was somewhat pale, as if he had lost blood excessively. He forced out a smile, coughed violently, and coughed up the dark blood accumulated in his lungs. He had yet to recover from the injuries left by the King of Blue.
Paganini said no more.
In the silence, he gazed at Charles’ incomplete little finger and the skin that was pale from blood loss, and the look in his eyes became somewhat complicated and dark.
After a long time, Paganini spoke, “Charles.”
“Yes?” Charles turned back and saw Paganini’s solemn expression.
“No, nothing much.” Paganini shook his head and smiled, but said nothing.
He just lifted his head and looked up at the sky.
He was just thinking that, back then, if the incorporeal god the Holy City worshiped had been half as benevolent as Charles, would his choice have been different?
No, surely, I would have still betrayed them?
For people like me who are born rebellious, we will do anything for the sake of power and to uncover the mystery of music theory. But now, I have power, yet I realize that nothing worthy of my loyalty is left.
He sighed softly and lowered his eyes.
Moreover, does the world… really need unreasonable beings like God?
…
A few hours later, in the Golden Palace, candles lit up in the night, illuminating the entire huge palace, like it was daytime. After rejecting the light supplied by aether and purely using flames as lighting, the palace of steel looked even colder and more solemn, giving off a forbidding vibe.
On the throne, the emperor tapped his walking stick and looked down at the Burgundian envoy in front of him. “An alliance?”
“That’s right.” The young man named Don Juan smiled. “The good relationship between Asgard and Burgundy has a long history, and we can be described as close neighbors separated only by a narrow strip of water. Now that Asgard is in trouble, my country will definitely not sit idly by.
“As long as we can form an alliance, my country is willing to send the Phantom Fleet to share the pressure Asgard is facing on sea. As for the attack by the Caucasus from the south, we Burgundians are also willing to mobilize our foreign legion to fight as mercenaries in Asgard’s place.”
The emperor looked indifferent and unmoved. Don Juan’s expression did not change, and he continued adding more chips to the table. “In addition to that, when necessary, my country can awaken the holy sword left by the first-generation king—Joyeuse…”
Upon hearing the name, the emperor’s eyebrows raised slightly.
Joyeuse…
The sword of gold, the sword of victory, the sword of glory, and also the sword of the King of the Sun back then, known as the Sword of the Fierce Sun. Before the death of the King of the Sun, he transferred all his power onto the sword, making it an artifact. Purely speaking in terms of power, it was in no way inferior to the stone sword, and it was even stronger in terms of destructive capacity. After all, it was the purest crystal of destruction of the school of modifications!
“The emperor of your country is really willing to go all out.” The emperor chuckled softly, and it was unclear whether it was out of mockery or anticipation.
For centuries, Joyeuse was sealed i
n the holy temple beneath the palace, absorbing the power of the entire kingdom day and night. Its importance even superseded that of the artificial saintess, the archangel.
Unfortunately, for centuries, no one could gain its approval and become a master worthy of it. To launch it, the only way was to pay the price of the emperor’s blood and life.
The fact that Burgundy was willing to invest such an important asset was actually beyond the expectations of the Emperor of Asgard. Unfortunately, their idea was pretty good, but their appetite was somewhat incredibly big.
The emperor looked down, gazing at the alliance memorandum near his hand, and sneered.
It was timely indeed, but unfortunately, it sounded good on paper, but the price to pay was too high, it was simply delusional of the Burgundians to expect him to agree.
As the conditions of the alliance, not only must Asgard pay a huge sum to Burgundy, it must also transfer dozens of taboo technologies to Burgundy, resulting in more underlying troubles. If the alliance was successful, then Asgard’s decades of savings would probably be robbed by the Burgundians with such ease.
The emperor snickered softly and threw the alliance memorandum aside. “You all undoubtedly want too much, don’t you all think that you’ve gone too far with the price?”
“Of course, all of it can be discussed.” Don Juan smiled. “I can make the decision to cross out the parts of technology transfer and national debt. However, can your country make some small concessions in other aspects?”
The emperor’s gaze became interesting. “For example?”
“For example, salvation.” Don Juan bowed his head sincerely. “All along, Burgundy has long been yearning for the Church to recognize its faith. Now that Asgard has been enjoying the grace of God for so long, would you consider sharing a bit of the salvation from the Lord with Burgundy?”
The emperor did not speak.
The atmosphere became cold and solemn, and a faint chill spread from the throne.
After a long silence, the emperor laughed loudly, the laughter full of coldness.
He did not expect that the appetite of the Burgundians was bigger than he had imagined… They wanted more than just small profits before the eyes, they also wanted to directly dig away at Asgard’s roots and enjoy the treatment Asgard received after the Third Amendment Act. They even wanted to welcome the Church to enter their country and master the secrets and cultural deposits of the Church…
The group of b*stards wanted to rob the gains of Asgard right from its hands!
What use was black gold of, no matter how much a country had? Could it buy victory and power? Regardless of how many types of taboo technologies one mastered, under the ban of the Church, everything that needed to be destroyed must be destroyed, no?
If they could get the support of the Church, if they could obtain a status similar to that of Asgard, with the support and technologies of the Church, upon launching the state apparatus, everything would be at their fingertips!
Didn’t Asgard become the behemoth it was at the moment under the support of the Church back then?
Although the Church had fallen into decline and lost its authority over the countries and the ability to repress them, its cultural deposits were still amazingly rich. No one knew how many amazing secrets and how much power were hidden within the organization that had led the human world for centuries…
For Burgundy, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, even if they had to pay a great price, as long as they could come into favor with the Church, then everything would be worth it!
“Do Burgundians like dreaming so much?” The emperor gazed indifferently at the envoy below the steps. “Since you all like to sleep talk so much, we don’t have to consider any further about the alliance. After all, an old saying goes,” he paused for a while, and his expression turned mocking, “war drives the Burgundians away.”
Don Juan was silent.
After a long time, he shrugged resignedly. “That’s really a pity. I hope that Your Majesty can change your mind as soon as possible. After all, the enthusiasm of His Majesty the king of my country cannot last long.” Upon saying so, he bowed in a manner that was nothing short of grace and etiquette, then turned and left.
…
Outside the palace, the servant that had been waiting for a long time rushed up to him and draped a thick robe around him to resist the cold of the Golden Palace that was terrifying even during the summer.
In the carriage, the old man named Richelieu asked, “Your Royal Highness, how did it go?”
“Either the Asgardians have gone crazy or the Asgardians have yet to go crazy. In short, they did not agree.” Don Juan took the cup of hot tea and drank all of it, then sneezed and wiped the mucus from his nose flusteredly. “However, it is also expected. Mr. Richelieu, have you contacted the people over in the Church?”
“With some of my connections back then, I’ve arranged to meet with a cardinal the day after tomorrow,” the old man replied.
“Very good.” Don Juan nodded, gritting his teeth, and his gentle mask dissipated, revealing an infuriated sneer. “Since Asgard is unwilling, we will discuss the matter directly with the church.”
“The Church will not agree.” Richelieu looked at him. “You are wasting your efforts.”
“No, we are taking the preemptive opportunities.” Don Juan leaned back in the chair, his expression calm. “Be it Asgard or the Church, I want them to know the backup plan we have prepared for them. It’s just that after they refuse it this time, don’t think about getting such a decent price the next time.”
“Are you so confident about the situation of the war?” Richelieu looked at him, his expression complicated. “Why do you think that Asgard will lose?”
“No, I don’t know if Asgard will lose. I just have confidence in my past friend.” Don Juan lowered his eyes as if he was gazing at the times of the past. “I believe that he will win.”
…
At the moment, in the Golden Palace, only the emperor and the old musician were left.
“You must have had a tiring time listening to them bickering for an afternoon.” The emperor seemed to be clear about the embarrassing situation the old musician was facing and even had the mood to crack a little joke. “Any countermeasures so far?”
The old musician was silent for a moment and replied, “Presently, the only way is to launch a full-scale war ahead of time.”
For Asgard, it was not difficult to handle attacks on two fronts at the same time, and it could even be said that they would still have strength to spare. But for Asgard, not winning was in itself a disgrace.
Especially after suffering an unexpected defeat at the hands of Anglo, Asgard urgently needed a complete victory to inspire its people, rather than sinking in the quagmire of war and engaging in an awkward tug-of-war with the other side…
“Your Majesty, please authorize the awakening of the Land Giant,” the old musician implored.
Awaken the Land Giant of the present and advance forcefully all the way from the Blanc Stronghold, occupy Anglo’s territory on land within a month, then counterattack the Caucasus…
“No need.” In the regard, the emperor rejected the suggestion decisively.
For some reason unknown, the emperor’s firm tone made the old musician feel a little uneasy suddenly…
728 Fruit of Destruction
When faced with the Emperor’s rejection, the old musician was stunned for some time before he regained his senses and tried to persuade him, “But, Your Majesty…”
“There are no ‘buts’ about this.” The Emperor looked at him and countered, “Did we declare war against Anglo because we wanted to conquer their lands? No, we did so because we don’t want Anglo interfering in the subsequent battles!”
The old musician was confused. “But… that’s…”
“It’s very simple.” The Emperor smiled. “As long as Anglo no longer exists.” With that, he waved his hand in a sweeping motion, which left the o
ld musician feeling chills all over his body. The old musician understood what he meant. He trembled in fear and finally knelt on the ground. “Please think twice, Your Majesty!”
Unlike what he had thought initially, the reason why the Emperor was not upset was not that the plan was a long-term one, but because Anglo was as good as gone to him. He had already given Anglo the death sentence. Now that they had Gungnir in their possession, they had control over destruction. Since Anglo had chosen to be troublemakers, then there was no need to waste any more energy on trying to conquer or invade it. All they would have to do was use Gungnir against Anglo and wipe them off the map completely!
With regards to the old musician’s plea, the Emperor was indifferent. “My mind is already set.”
The old musician was silent for a long time. When he finally looked up at the Emperor sitting on the throne, he shouted in a hoarse voice, “Your Majesty, have you gone mad?!”
The Emperor laughed coldly. “Are there any emperors in this world that are not mad?”
The old musician shook his head. “This… this is going overboard!”
The Emperor countered, “Are there any battles in this world that do not go overboard?”
“No, no…” The old musician shook his head. “Even if we wanted to, the Church would never allow Asgard to do this.”
“They will.” The Emperor’s face was solemn. He looked at the report of the Stronghold on Sea that had been placed beside his hand. His gaze became cold all of a sudden. “After all, we have already indulged the Church before in the past, haven’t we?”
The old musician kept quiet for a long time. “Since Your Majesty has already made up your mind,” with tears in his eyes, the old musician, who had served Asgard his entire life, continued, “please allow me to carry out this order.”
If someone has to be punished for this, then let me be the one to be burned at the stake after all this destruction is over. I will do anything for Asgard.
…
