As for the fifth condition, in the eyes of many, this was actually the most important one...
The shadow of division prior to the disaster remained vivid in their minds.
Before the Battle of the Guadaz River, the mutual resistance and accusations between the Northern and Southern factions, along with their refusal to cooperate during the campaign, ultimately led to a tragic outcome.
The people of Bilbali stubbornly held onto their troops for self-preservation, claiming they would absolutely not advance a single step further until they received allied reinforcements and had enough strength to counter the Greenskins. They sat by and watched as the capital (the Magrittans firmly believed the South was the most orthodox of the orthodox) was besieged.
These various rifts—which in the past, due to the threat of external forces, amounted to at most a few complaints and suppressed dissatisfaction—were finally brought out into the open when the enemy offered seemingly generous peace terms that were actually laden with traps.
The statue of the Goddess silently watched the mortal realm, yet gave Her believers not a single response.
Despairing and suppressed, people tried to make themselves comfortable and vent as much as possible.
The envoy didn't hide his conditions; or rather, the Great Warboss intentionally let the commoners of Magritta know his terms.
On one side was terrifying destruction.
On the other was shameful survival.
The councilors knew that whichever path they took, for at least the next fifty years, this metropolis of the kingdom, the Pearl of the South, the pride of the Estalians that handled the prosperity of "a third of the world," had no hope left...
But there was still a difference.
If it meant destruction, it would be absolute. At least for the people in this city, there would be no hope left. But if they chose...
The councilors and representatives argued, even coming to blows and brawls.
But there was no one left to maintain order in the venue anymore.
A guild of foreign merchants stationed in Magritta sent their representatives. These merchant guilds, ranging from large syndicates to small individual traders, had put in a lot of effort during the siege, contributing money and manpower to help with city defenses, and they were also feeling completely exhausted.
Many small merchants, realizing they were already bankrupt, even committed suicide, or simply abandoned everything to join the defenders.
Their representative spoke heavily at the council: hoping the Magritta Council... would consider the lives of the entire city.
The Goddess's Church, the Knightly Orders, and the Warrior Priests declared: they would rather fight a bloody battle to the bitter end.
Some bourgeois representatives believed: the war had reached a point where continuing was meaningless. Even if the entire city of Magritta fought to the death, it wouldn't change the kingdom's situation one bit as long as the heavy Northern forces didn't march south for a single day. Under these circumstances, even temporarily agreeing to the enemy's demands as a stalling tactic to await a better opportunity was an act of last resort...
The commoners' thoughts were chaotic and divided. Some wanted to fight to the death for the kingdom and their faith, absolutely refusing to submit to their savage mortal enemies. Some resented the Northerners for holding them back; after the Battle of the Guadaz River, since the North refused to send reinforcements south, they wanted to just negotiate peace with the Greenskins and let them go ravage the North. And then there were those who, seeing their country and homes on the brink of ruin and the deities remaining silent, suffered mental breakdowns. Laughing and crying, they believed the end of the world was coming, and regardless of South or North, Southerner or Northerner, all would perish in a sea of fire. They had already gone mad!
The defenders were also in an uproar, their minds racing. Had the artillery bombardment not been continuous and the enemy outside the walls not been glaring like tigers watching their prey, they probably would have already started organizing mass meetings to send public representatives to petition the council...
There was also a traveling merchant from the East. The Warrior Monks and guards with him were extremely elite, and their commander was a highly capable leader, clearly a battle-hardened veteran. Although they participated in the city's defense, they rarely interacted with the outside.
They sent an envoy, an Eastern Alchemist, who delivered a speech to the council: My Lord bears the divine decree of the Celestial Dragon Emperor and the profound will of the Moon Empress... We admire the unyielding courage of your soldiers and civilians in defending your nation, and your resolute perseverance in holding this city... However, in recent days, the hearts and minds of the people are in turmoil. As the ancient sages said: "If ten thousand are of one heart, they can withstand the sky falling; if a million are divided, the city will fall and the army will be defeated." This is truly an omen of a collapsing dam, a precedent to a landslide...
Ultimately, he expressed one point:
I, a (noble) Cathayan, couldn't care less about your squabbling. Anyway, it's your country and your city. If you want to fight, fight. Out of morality, the Cathayans will help you resist to the bitter end. If you want to surrender, surrender. Just don't bicker and argue so much that you start killing each other before the Greenskins even break in.
In the end, two distinct factions formed within the city: those wanting to fight to the bitter end, and the faction consisting of "It's already over! We've already lost! We can't fight anymore!", "In deep consideration of the general trend of the world and the current state of the kingdom, we desire to take extraordinary measures to manage the current situation, and hereby inform you, our subjects" [a reference to Emperor Hirohito's Jewel Voice Broadcast], and "Fuck the Northerners for not coming to help, I'm not bleeding and dying for the Northerners! Negotiate with the Greenskins! Let them go fight the Northerners!"
Regardless of the surging turmoil inside Magritta, the Great Warboss simultaneously sent envoys, backed by massive armies, to the surviving city-states across the South radiating within the reach of the Greenskins' blades. Through absolute military suppression, faced with immediate destruction versus the shame of survival, especially in a state of leaderlessness:
Many city-states, having lost the Goddess's guidance and the kingdom's leadership, humiliatingly chose to bow before the butcher's blade. At least under the Great Warboss's authority, these submitting cities could temporarily be preserved.
And Cerebrio, the city furiously destroyed by Al, was one such city.
The Great Warboss acutely realized that a new, unexpected enemy had appeared within his Great WAAAAAGH! and his grand plan, and he knew almost nothing about this group of enemies.
So the wise Warboss did not advance rashly. Instead, he dispatched a force of ten thousand Greenskins commanded by his Wyvern Guard to march north and garrison Cerebrio, the city upstream on the Guadaz River. He also restrained the Greenskins and pirates at Magus, temporarily shrinking their forces to avoid sudden strikes.
Preparing at any time to:
If the enemy's advance proved too ferocious, he would temporarily avoid clashing with them. He could even throw the nearly ruined Magus and other places back to the humans, wait until he had a clear grasp of the enemy's situation, and then look for an opportunity to battle.
As a result, in Cerebrio, Al's detached force—intending to rendezvous with the people of Cerebrio and relocate the entire city—collided squarely with the Greenskin detached force, erupting into a fierce battle.
Although the enemy outnumbered them two to one, and without Al personally on the battlefield, the Khorngors didn't possess much of an individual advantage against the Greenskins, they won because they had a terrifying behemoth commander like the Blessed Gorebull and a hundred Troll monstrous infantry.
Moreover, although this "unexpected war" didn't trigger a warning from the All-Knowing blessing, the scouting preparations Al had arranged in advance bought enough time for the tribe to deploy their formations.
He didn't overthink it, naturally assuming this Greenskin force was aiming to destroy Cerebrio. Coupled with the fact that half of the troops were Estalians, it was very difficult to abandon the humans and retreat alone in such a situation.
So Al issued orders through the Blessed Gorebull for the entire army to accelerate. As long as they entered Cerebrio first and relied on the city's defenses, they could absolutely inflict heavy casualties on the Greenskins and hold out until he rapidly mobilized reinforcements.
However, what he never expected was that the people of Cerebrio, who had already submitted to the Greenskins' might prior to this, abandoned their faith, abandoned their honor, and abandoned their compatriots who had joyfully returned with reinforcements to save them—turning their arrows and spears on their own allies!
Cerebrio shut the tribe and the Estalian Expeditionary Force out of the city! Despite the Expeditionary Force knights shouting, cursing, and damning them, they refused to open the gates.
Because of the forced march intended solely to enter the city first, Al's army and the Greenskins were already very close. It was too late to capture the city by force now, not to mention that it was a mountain city that was already well-prepared (originally to defend against the Greenskins).
And out in the wilderness, the ten-thousand-strong Greenskin enemy force was right on their doorstep.
This was the first time Al tasted the bitterness of defeat.
Despite the Blessed Gorebull fighting fiercely, she was still unable to turn the tide while being attacked from front and rear. Al watched his subordinates fall one by one, under the dual siege of betrayal and enemy blades.
One of Al's scions led a mixed force of eight hundred humans and Beastmen to cover the retreat and was swallowed by the green tide. The rest, led by the furious, wounded Gorebull, retreated east, falling back to the fringes of the Inara Mountains, relying on the terrain to enter a stalemate with the Greenskin pursuers.
Al didn't even remember the name of that scion; he was absolutely not a qualified "father." As for the subordinates who died in battle, Al even found their faces repetitive—don't all Khorngors look roughly the same?
But through the shared perspective of the Blessed Gorebull, Al clearly saw and heard:
They died fighting while shouting the names of the Bloodmother and Al!
This was the first time Al had suffered such a loss, and in such an incredibly dishonorable way.
"I once decided to protect this land, and all the people who sought protection from me, from the tribe."
Al brought this news to the council that had relocated into Piña, had barely settled down, and was preparing to reorganize. He summoned the people's representatives and told them:
"While your tribal allies fought a bloody battle for the survival of your kingdom, some of your compatriots betrayed every living being that bled because of the Greenskins!"
"I will immediately lead a personal expedition to rescue my compatriots, and also rescue your sons and brothers... But before that, I have a question to ask your opinion on."
"How have you decided to punish Cerebrio, to punish that city?"
Wearing a mask, Al's voice penetrated the iron, as cold as steel.
The people's representatives looked at each other in dismay.
Several young Estalian officers, who had previously proactively followed Al's legion west.
They drew their swords, furiously hacking at the tree stumps and fences.
"Execute all the councilors who made the decision to surrender! Hang every single defender who refused to open the city gates for their compatriots!"
Thus, agitated councilors from the two cities chimed in: "All citizens who refused to oppose this shameful decision should be sentenced to exile, and half their property confiscated to compensate the dead!" "But because the current situation is urgent, after the siege is lifted, the focus should be on confiscation and hard labor."
There were also voices saying that this was forced by circumstances, perhaps they had no choice, and milder measures should be taken; as long as the act of compensation was fulfilled, it would be enough.
Behind the mask, Al smirked.
Among all enemies, traitors are the most dangerous and the most detestable.
This group of people was willing to nearly spark a civil war with the North for their own interests. Yet, when faced with issues like:
"Mistakes anyone could make," or "Forced by circumstances, having no choice," they became timid, inevitably feeling a sense of empathy for the fox when the rabbit dies.
Naturally, Al had no genuine intention of listening to the Estalians' opinions.
In his heart, he had already passed the sentence of punishment upon that city:
Raze it to the ground!
The people of Cerebrio could continue to live and continue their atonement.
But those city walls, stained with the blood of the betrayed, stained with the blood of Al's scions and warriors, must be shattered into dust!