Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 485: Right and Wrong
"Do you still want to keep watching?" Steven asked quietly.
"Or do you want to step in now and deal with those soldiers? That unit is fairly elite, sure, but with your strength, taking them out wouldn't be difficult."
Steven had witnessed everything from beginning to end. Now, watching this final farce performed by the Infected, he turned to Talulah with a helpless look. He knew all too well that what they had just seen was yet another brutal blow to her already fragile ideals.
The choices those people made were understandable. Not everyone could remain steadfast when their life was on the line. Wanting to live was only human.
It was precisely this kind of choice—one that couldn't clearly be labeled as right or wrong—that left people the most confused, the most lost… and hurt the deepest. Because you could understand them, their actions only made the sorrow feel heavier.
"No," Talulah replied calmly. "Let it continue."
The Minecrafter was slightly taken aback by her answer.
"This is their choice. From the moment they attacked into the village, they should've been prepared to pay the price should things go south."
There was far less hesitation in her voice than Steven had expected.
Perhaps she had been hurt so deeply that she'd gone numb. Or perhaps she truly meant what she once said—only by being broken can something be rebuilt.
Whatever the reason, Talulah no longer tried to defend those Infected. What showed in her eyes now was only absolute calm, mixed with quiet sorrow.
As she said, if those Infected hadn't returned out of a desire for revenge against the villagers, none of this would've happened in the first place. The cause and effect had been born from their own malice, and now, they would bear the consequences.
And just as Steven and Talulah chose to remain observers, judgment swiftly arrived.
Just as the Ursus officer had said, he spared only one.
After pulling out the Infected who had spoken first, he gave a simple order. His subordinates executed every remaining Infected on the spot—without exception.
Crimson blood soaked into the frozen soil of the village.
No one dared to speak.
The only sounds left were the villagers' trembling breaths and the ragged gasps of the sole surviving Infected, desperately trying to steady himself through sheer panic.
"Take us to the others," the officer said flatly.
He shoved the survivor forward from behind, urging him on in that same cold, indifferent tone.
The Infected didn't dare slow down for even a moment. He immediately assumed the role of a loyal hunting dog, walking at the front and guiding the soldiers toward the camp where the Infected led by Brull were stationed.
He could have led them toward the main group they had left earlier, but whether the troops could catch up was uncertain. For his own survival, the safest option was the group whose location he could confirm immediately.
Under his guidance, the Ursus soldiers left the village without hesitation.
The villagers who had survived could only stand there in a daze, as though they had just awakened from a twisted nightmare.
No one knew why this unit had come.
No one knew what they truly intended to do.
All they knew was this—
These soldiers had saved them.
In the eyes of the villagers, those soldiers were nothing short of heroes.
Especially the child from before—the boy stared at the departing backs of the troops with eyes full of pure admiration. To him, there was only gratitude left, an image of saviors firmly etched into his heart.
Talulah, however, could only take a deep breath.
Flickers of confusion crossed her eyes. She knew—rationally—that what the Ursus soldiers had done was not wrong. And yet, even so, witnessing the deaths of the Infected she had once regarded as her own people left her unable to calm the turmoil in her heart.
"You really should think carefully about what's truly right and wrong regarding this matter," Steven said quietly as he looked at her.
"Only when you understand that can you begin to grasp the price a leader has to pay."
He didn't try to comfort her, nor did he offer reassurance. He simply left the matter to her, as he always did.
"…I know," Talulah murmured softly. "Just… give me some time to calm down."
When she saw the villagers venting their anger and resentment on the corpses of the Infected after the soldiers had left, her expression grew even more sorrowful. She leaned weakly against Steven, letting her boyfriend continue guiding her as they followed the trail of the Ursus soldier.
Her thoughts were a complete mess.
She even began to question her original resolve—why she had wanted to protect the Infected in the first place.
Steven could give her time.
Reality, however, would not wait.
The camp where Brull and his group of Infected were stationed wasn't far from the village to begin with. Combined with the fact that this unit of Ursus soldiers moved far faster than ordinary troops, it didn't take long before they closed in on the temporary encampment.
Just like before, they advanced in silence—splitting up, infiltrating, surrounding.
The discipline and tactical planning of this unit were among the best Steven had ever seen. If he weren't committed to remaining an observer, he would've been very tempted to ask exactly whose troops these were.
Unfortunately for the soldiers, this infiltration didn't go as smoothly as the last one.
Unlike the defenseless village, these Infected had real experience dealing with Ursus forces. Brull himself was a seasoned resistance fighter who had clashed with garrison troops from mobile cities for years.
The camp's security was on a completely different level.
Even with their impeccable training, the Ursus soldiers were still spotted by hidden sentries.
The moment a warning whistle pierced the air, the Infected sprang into action. Those who had been resting grabbed their weapons instantly and regrouped, forming tight defensive clusters.
This time, they gave the infiltrators no chance to strike by surprise.
Now that their presence had been exposed, the Ursus soldier abandoned any pretense of stealth. They gathered openly, forming up as they faced the Infected head-on.
"Damn it… how did such a troublesome group catch up to us this fast?" Brull cursed under his breath.
His eyes burned with regret and malice as he stared at the well-equipped Ursus soldiers. "Did those villagers really report us that quickly? Figures. Ordinary people were never worth trusting in the first place."
In his mind, there was only one explanation. The villagers had betrayed them.
Otherwise, how could an elite unit of the Ursus soldier have arrived with such uncanny timing?
Looking at the soldiers' equipment alone was enough to make his heart sink. These were nothing like the so-called Infected patrol squads—lazy, corrupt, and half-asleep. No, these were genuine Ursus soldiers.
On paper, the Infected had the numerical advantage.
In reality, the gap in combat power was so vast it bordered on despair. Hundreds of Infected meant nothing to these troops, at best, they were just a mob of insignificant rabble.
That was precisely why the soldiers didn't bother with another ambush. Instead, they chose to confront them head-on, despite being heavily outnumbered.
Because they were confident of victory.
"Cease your futile resistance," the officer at the front declared in his low, hoarse voice.
"Infected, you have violated the laws of Ursus. Lay down your arms and surrender. That is the only way to avoid unnecessary casualties."
To the Infected, it didn't sound like a warning.
It sounded like a sentence being passed.
And the officer had no intention of waiting for a reply.
Less than two minutes after his words fell into the heavy silence of the battlefield, he raised his hand—pointing straight at Brull and the cluster of Infected behind him.
The Ursus soldier charged.
"Damn it!" Brull ground his teeth, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
There was no clever plan. No miracle solution. Nothing he could do to reverse the situation.
"Boss, think of something!" someone shouted in panic.
"That's Ursus soldiers! Without the guerrillas protecting us, we can't win!"
"We should've never left!" another wailed.
"If we stayed with Reunion, at least we'd have the guerrillas and Patriot backing us up!"
"I don't want to die—! I surrender! I surrender, okay?!"
Cries of fear erupted before the soldiers even reached them.
The Infected ranks collapsed into chaos, blame and panic spreading like wildfire. And without exception, all that resentment was directed at the man who had led them here—Brull.
He stood there, fists trembling, eyes bloodshot.
Then, at that critical moment, black mist seeped out from his body.
Along with it came a voice—low, hoarse, and chillingly familiar.
"I told you long ago," the voice murmured, dripping with contempt, "that this is what the Infected are like. Without overwhelming strength, you can never truly lead them."
The black haze coiled thicker, like a living thing.
"If you cannot earn their understanding," the voice continued softly, "then why not simply conquer them instead?"
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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