"That abandoned town lies just ahead, right?"
"Yes," Talulah looked toward the settlement she led her people to capture months prior. "It looks completely deserted."
"The Purge Squads won't let traitors off easily," Patriot stepped forward. "And neither will we."
Back then, turning around to kill them seemed unnecessary; the Purge Squads would inevitably clean them up. However, if survivors remained now... hmph.
"Does the Doctor still rest?" Talulah looked back at the continuous line of vehicles, asking with concern.
"The Doctor is very tired. Yesterday, she stabilized the condition of the Infected rescued from the mine we just broke," Patriot nodded. "She hasn't woken up yet."
"Then let her rest well, Old Man," Talulah sighed. "The number of Infected we rescued lately... it is simply too many."
On this journey north, they conquered territory everywhere, attacking every mine encountered. Their original force of a thousand rapidly ballooned to over ten thousand.
"We originally planned to return to the snowfield to stabilize our base before attacking the mines, but we didn't expect to find so much grain at that military depot," Talulah sighed. "If it weren't for the Doctor, we really couldn't carry all this away."
"With these food supplies as support, we can attack more mines and liberate more compatriots. Two hundred tons... plus the spoils from the mines, it is enough to last us through the winter."
Mines didn't treat Infected as humans; trying to sustain rescued Infected on mine supplies alone was a lost cause. That was why those two hundred tons of grain helped so significantly.
"But Talulah," Patriot turned his head toward her. "Ursus will not abandon the snowfield mines. This high-speed, careening nation is built on violence and mining; the continuous output of resources from the snowfields supports Ursus's development."
"We already swept through a dozen mines. At this pace, the surrounding mines will all be uprooted. Ursus will never sit idly by. Are you prepared?"
"...How can everything in life be prepared for in advance?" Talulah was silent for two seconds before speaking. 'What if I'm not prepared? Will the iron hooves of Ursus stop marching over the corpses of the Infected?'
"It's nothing more than death. Does everyone following us have any other way to live? They either die at the hands of the Ursus fleet or die in the cold, hopeless mines."
"At least after we acted, they could live a period without worrying about food or clothing. They could pick up weapons to fight for a glimmer of hope. Even if the Ursus army presses in, it is not as if a chance for survival is truly impossible to find."
"And in the mines? They can only endure hunger, the pain of the whip, and the piercing cold winds of the snowfields until they work themselves to death."
"We aren't completely without a winning chance, are we?"
"...It is very slim," Patriot sighed. "A winning chance? Perhaps there is one, but it won't be something ten thousand mine slaves—who underwent no specific training and only picked up weapons a few days ago—can grasp."
"Old Man... there is one thing I must make clear to you," Talulah looked back at Patriot. "If things become impossible, you take the Shieldguards, FrostNova, the Doctor, and Alina, and leave together."
"There is no need for you to stay and be buried with me for what I must do."
"No, if anyone is to leave, it should be you young people," Patriot's eyes locked onto Talulah's determined gaze. "I am already old and experienced too much. You young people are the future..."
"Are you bullying me because I haven't seen many Sarkaz?" Talulah interrupted him. "You are a Wendigo. If it weren't for severe Oripathy, you would be in your prime at your age. It's a bit much to call yourself old, isn't it?"
Patriot froze.
In the past, weighed down by a diseased body and a lifetime of constant failure, his mindset became that of an old man. Now that he suddenly cast off his sickly form, he felt a bit unaccustomed to it.
"I was the one who persuaded you to go south, and I was the one who insisted on going north. I'm the one who wants to attack the mines, and I'm the one who wants to gather the Infected," Talulah said with a smile. "How can I abandon those who trust me and leave after doing all this?"
"At the very least, I should die with them," she said, lowering her head, her gaze piercingly cold. "Otherwise... wouldn't I become a conspirator who instigates others to pay the price while I hide behind the scenes?"
"I drew my sword and killed him there, then escaped, precisely because I didn't want to become such a person!"
Faced with Talulah's agitation, Patriot chose not to ask. This was a scar in the child's heart; it was better not to reopen it.
What he didn't know was that if he asked, Talulah certainly would tell him. And upon hearing the name Kashchey, he surely would link many things together...
But since he was a man who respected children, he never asked about Talulah's past.
"We won't necessarily lose," finally, Patriot could only comfort her in this way, while secretly resolving to send Talulah away no matter what.
This child's moral compass was too straight; she possessed the potential to be a leader. It would be a tragedy for her to die here.
While the two discussed this, FrostNova came running over, panting.
She loved this feeling. In the past, when she was heavily burdened by illness, she could hardly run at all. The warm sensation in her body while running was something she never felt before.
"Father, Talulah," FrostNova breathed out a cloud of hot air. "I went to contact the people who chose to stay behind when we went south a few months ago. Everyone was having a hard time. When they heard we were back, they all followed me."
"Also, those Originium Slugs we buried back then have been found."
"There shouldn't be any of those people among them..." Patriot looked toward the mobile town.
"None. Every single Infected here was executed," FrostNova's expression didn't change. No matter how much she cared for her compatriots, she wouldn't pity a group of traitors. "The surrounding Infected told me everything."
"At least it saves us the trouble," Talulah sighed. "Actually... not all of those people necessarily betrayed us back then..."
"But our location data was sent to Ursus from here regardless," Patriot shook his head. "Even if they didn't betray us, they compromised! Don't feel sorry for them; it was their own choice."
"Instead of those people, I'm more worried about the Doctor!" FrostNova frowned. "The Doctor has been asleep for a day and a night! Alina just went to wake her up, and there wasn't a sound!"
"What? Something happened to the Doctor?" The surrounding Infected all looked over instantly.
"It shouldn't be... trouble," FrostNova shook her head. "Alina checked; the Doctor is just asleep and can't be woken. Last night, the Doctor warned her that if she fell asleep, not to worry. She'd wake up on her own when it was time."
"Even so, we can't just ignore it," Talulah said, her brow furrowed. "Doctor Xia Yu did so much for the Infected... I knew that spell of hers couldn't possibly be sustained indefinitely just by using Originium Slugs!"
"There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world!"
"But the Doctor won't say..." Patriot shook his head. "Restrict the treatment slots for now. Only treat terminal patients on the verge of death. Everyone else will have to wait."
"Whatever happens, nothing can happen to the Doctor. She is the hope of the Infected. Even if the entire Guerrilla is wiped out, the Doctor must escape!"
★ ★ ★
What was Xia Yu, the subject of their discussion, actually doing?
She was in Chernobog.
Yes, the one in the convoy was a Mimic Tear, given the simple command to keep sleeping.
Her purpose for coming here was singular: Ransacking a home.
Using Furina's body, she changed her clothes and walked the streets of Chernobog. She changed because Furina's usual outfit was far too conspicuous in the freezing mid-winter of Chernobog. Who wears that while sneaking around to cause trouble?
The man in charge of this city was Count Boris, a trusted subordinate of Kashchey. Xia Yu would eventually have to leave, so she decided to leave some family assets for the Guerrilla.
So, here she was.
What's this? A City Defense Force warehouse? Emptied! Leaving it would only mean it gets used against the Infected anyway. Better to arm her own people. 'If we have no guns or cannons, the enemy will build them for us.'
What's this? A government supply reserve warehouse? Emptied! It is all Ursus government property; might as well take it.
What's this? Goods from the Noble United Merchant Association? Emptied! Consider it robbing the rich to help the poor.
What's this? Count Boris's personal little stash? Emptied! Going toward the development of the Infected Guerrilla.
What's this? Food prepared for a noble banquet? Taken, taken! Feeding it to them is a pure waste. It won't spoil in her inventory anyway; she'd take it back so those starving Infected could have a decent meal.
In short, in the span of a single night, the entire city of Chernobog was placed under martial law.
Martial law was unavoidable. Just look at how much stuff was missing.
Xia Yu stole enough. Looking at the sky, she wanted to leave; if she returned too late, everyone in the Guerrilla would worry. Actually, she should have left before midnight, but the supplies in Chernobog were just too abundant. Her inner hoarder couldn't restrain itself, and she essentially cast a city-wide Force of Habit on the loot.
Now she was heading out of the city, but there was one last thing. Xia Yu looked toward the outskirts. Wandering the streets alone, she already was targeted. Several military police with weapons were approaching her from a distance.
Xia Yu didn't bother with them. She turned into an alley, switched to her Tarnished body, and soared into the sky.
She left behind a group of military police scratching their heads as they stared into a dead-end alley with no other exit.
★ ★ ★
"Honestly, how much of this stuff did you guys lose, or are you just using this chance to balance the books?" Count Boris looked at the large group of subordinates and the nobles reporting losses.
"Lord Count, you know us. Our shipments had records when they entered the city," the Merchant Association representative cried out. "Besides, everyone is here to make money. How could we possibly lose our own goods on purpose?"
"As for someone below embezzling them, it's even more impossible. It's dozens of tons! It's impossible not to find a trace!"
"Uncle... no, Lord Count, you know me," the Major General of the City Defense Force said with a bitter face. "I do a bit of business on the side, but to leave not a single piece of equipment in the Defense Force warehouse... I'm a bit greedy, but I'm not stupid!"
"I absolutely couldn't shoulder a mess this big. If it's found out, forget my career—I'd lose my life. Is it worth it for a little money?"
"Lord Count, you know me as well," the government official added. "The reserve warehouses mostly contain grain, cloth, pelts—civilian livelihood supplies. These things have low profit margins in small quantities. People of our level wouldn't look twice at that money."
"But if it's a large amount, it's easy to get caught in an investigation. A transaction of that scale can't be hidden. We'd all end up in prison. I can tell the difference between one full meal and a lifetime of meals."
After the important departments finished explaining, everyone looked at Count Boris's butler.
"No, Master, you understand me," the butler said, sounding very aggrieved. "A single banquet... I am the butler of the Count's house. Why would I steal that? Truly, in the blink of an eye, the food and the ingredients were just gone!"
As for the Count's personal stash, he couldn't say it here; he just looked at his master piteously.
Looking at the group of people with innocence written all over their faces, Count Boris rubbed his temples.
To be honest, he was furious last night about the bizarre disappearance of the banquet. After ordering a thorough investigation, he hadn't slept a wink. For a noble, this was a massive loss of face. The Duke ordered him to prepare warships to set out for the snowfields to purge the Infected. Naturally, he had to talk to the various nobles and military officers under him, which was why he prepared the banquet.
The day arrived, the guests were present, and then you tell me the prepared banquet is gone?
Gone!
How could it be gone?!
Hundreds, thousands of dishes! Just like that? Are you joking with me? No one saw anything?
He was so angry he didn't sleep!
Then this morning, a tally was made. Oh ho, not only was the banquet gone, but the city also lost grain and weapons... could someone be planning a rebellion?
But if it's a rebellion, why steal my banquet? Just to annoy me?
Even though he hadn't slept, he didn't dare feel the slightest bit drowsy. The city was under martial law, gates were closed, and the army was deployed to guard every street. He was terrified that at any moment someone would raise a cry and a crowd would gather, using the assets he accumulated over the years to arm a mob and charge his estate.
He looked around. Everyone's face was a mask of innocence.
Actually, Count Boris knew they weren't all stealing from within... or rather, not entirely. There were definitely cases of balancing the books in the reported cases, but there had to be a large-scale theft incident first.
Thinking of this, he looked at his neph—no, the Major General of the City Defense Force. "Are the city gates sealed?"
"Sealed," the Major General said confidently. "I guarantee no supplies can be moved out. Even if someone takes a secret path, the area around the city is flat. Three warships and troops have spread out; no one can escape."
"And secret paths can't move this much material."
Count Boris nodded in satisfaction. He supported his nephew's rise, so the man wasn't a waste; he had capability.
"And what about the government?" Boris looked at the official. "Before the lockdown, were there any large outflows of materials?"
"Only one yesterday," the official said respectfully. "But it was a shipment of various smelted metals. Lord Count, that cannot be faked. It was only one 80,000-ton transport ship; it couldn't move the nearly million tons of various reserve materials lost in the city."
"So, the materials are still in the city," Count Boris narrowed his eyes. "Have the police and gendarmerie search house to house! I refuse to believe these things grew wings and flew away!"
"We must—"
"Lord Count! The army outside the city is under attack!"
Just then, someone stumbled in, pushing the door open and shouting loudly, "Colonel Werlen requests reinforcements!"
"What?" Count Boris stood up instantly. "So someone is planning a rebellion? How many? Infected? Or another nation..."
"No..." the officer who entered said in terror. "According to the report... there is only one person..."
"...What do you mean 'only one person'?" the Major General frowned. "Was a patrol squad attacked? No, Werlen wouldn't ask for backup for something like that."
"It's the Colonel's flagship, the Baron," the officer's face was full of disbelief. "At least, that's what was reported over the comms."
"You're saying someone attacked our warship?"
"What kind of person?"
"A tall male knight in ancient armor," the officer tried his best to describe.
"Forget it. Get me Werlen! I'll ask him myself!"
Soon, the call was put through, but Colonel Werlen's side was slow to answer. Just as the Count was about to lose patience, a voice finally came through. Count Boris simply turned on the speakerphone.
"Lord Count," Colonel Werlen's voice was slightly trembling.
"Why so late answering?" Count Boris barked in dissatisfaction. Of course, he knew the most urgent issue wasn't that. "Where is the person who attacked the ship?"
"...That..." the voice on the other end seemed hesitant.
"I asked you where he is!" Count Boris's blood pressure was about to explode. How could he not be anxious after such a major event? If someone could steal all the food in his estate without being noticed, they could kill him just as silently. Werlen wasn't usually an unreliable person; he should see the situation. How could he now... Hmph, he must be replaced!
"Lord Count," Colonel Werlen's voice came through the phone. "The man... the man is right in front of me. His sword is at my throat."
The room fell into instant, dead silence.
"...You're saying... someone boarded the ship, fought their way to the bridge, and captured you?" Count Boris was stunned. "Where are your soldiers? They couldn't stop him?"
"...No, the soldiers didn't even clash with him," Colonel Werlen's words were also full of disbelief. He looked at the knight in front of him, who was holding an exaggerated greatsword forged from countless blades against his neck. Seeing the knight nod, he continued: "He jumped directly onto the deck, charged through the bridge's protection, and seized me."
He hadn't even entered the ship's interior.
"I know you're listening!" Just then, Count Boris finally gathered his thoughts and spoke to the perpetrator on the other end. "Whoever you are, to be able to do this, you're clearly no ordinary person."
"Are you sure you want to make an enemy of Ursus?"
"You say that as if Ursus wouldn't come for me even if I didn't act," Xia Yu smiled. Her hand holding the sword moved slightly with her body, the splayed blades nearly poking out the Colonel's eye.
"Boris, right? Did you sleep well last night? Oh, how could I forget? You didn't sleep at all."
Xia Yu teased, "Have you been terrified all night? Afraid of being assassinated by some assassin popping out of nowhere?"
"...It was you... no, it was you all who did everything in the city?" Boris narrowed his eyes.
"No, there is no 'us,' only me," Xia Yu smiled. "Yes, I did it all."
"...Impossible! A single person couldn't possibly move the reserves of an entire city!" Boris gritted his teeth. "Who are your accomplices?"
"Even if you search the whole city, you won't find anything that was lost, because I've already taken it out of the city," Xia Yu replied. "If you don't believe it... want to make a bet?"
"I never bet with enemies," Count Boris said with a dark face. "Tell me, which power is behind you? What did they send you to do against me?"
"Don't think you can do as you please just because you hijacked a Colonel. Two other warships have already surrounded you, and the City Defense Force has boarded the ship." He looked at his nephew, and the Major General nodded before immediately leaving the room.
"You can't escape! Surrender, confess everything, and I might consider sparing your life."
"Ha, haha, you want me to surrender? And spare my life?" Xia Yu couldn't help but laugh. "Do you know why I didn't take your head while I was at it last night?"
"Because I saw the order 'it' gave you, so I decided to let you die in a more valuable place. Otherwise, do you think you'd still be standing there talking to me?"
"To be honest, I'm quite dissatisfied. A Count's head really isn't enough. But it really couldn't pull in a Duke. If I killed you too, then there wouldn't even be a Count left."
"So I'll just have to make do. Sigh, here's some advice: why don't you work hard and trick a Duke into coming over? Then I won't kill you."
Count Boris's pupils constricted instantly.
"You are the enemy of that lord?!"
"Enemy? It? It's not worthy," Xia Yu shook her head. "Alright, I'm in a hurry, so no more chatting. Make sure to remember the 'deal' I have with you."
She hung up the phone and looked at the Colonel in front of her.
"I won't say anything," Colonel Werlen said, his neck stiff. "I won't betray Ursus or the Count to start this ship for you. Kill me!"
"You've got backbone," Xia Yu shook her head. "Kill you? Forget it. Your life needs to end in a more valuable place."
With that, she sheathed the Grafted Blade Greatsword, turned, and left through the hole in the bridge.
Colonel Werlen touched his neck, then looked up. But on the vast deck, the person's figure was already gone.
Bang!
Just then, the bridge doors were thrown open, and elite soldiers poured in.
"Colonel, where is the enemy?"
"Gone!" Colonel Werlen glared at them. He looked at the communicator, hesitated for two seconds, then gritted his teeth and called the Count.
"Lord Count, it's me, Werlen. That person is gone."
"...So how exactly were you captured!" Count Boris's voice roared through the phone.
The word "captured" stung Werlen's heart, but it was an undeniable fact.
"Just as I said, she suddenly appeared on the deck," he answered honestly. "Then she charged the bridge. The soldiers on the deck didn't even see her shadow."
"The bridge's protection couldn't stop her attack either. A single strike of the sword shattered everything."
"...It sounds like a fairy tale," Count Boris didn't really believe it.
"Lord Count, do you know what she reminded me of?" Colonel Werlen asked.
"Reminded you of what?"
"Steam Knights. The Steam Knights of Victoria," Werlen's voice trembled. "My father was an officer in the Battle of the Four Emperors. He told me about those powerful knights attacking Gallic warships."
"Those knights, often over ten meters tall, used powerful jet systems to leap high, flying over trenches and lines to land directly on a warship's deck, destroying cannons and personnel like they were cutting vegetables."
"Or simply... leaping again, using their massive mass and sharp steam blades to break through the bridge, killing all command personnel and completely paralyzing the ship."
Werlen recalled the knight charging him on the deck, his voice shaking as if he were sympathizing with a Gallic Imperial Captain from decades ago. "It was... truly too similar."
"...Is there a recording?" Count Boris asked.
"Yes, Lord Count, there is," Werlen answered. "I'll have someone send it to you immediately."
"Also, should we continue to track—"
"No, retract the lines," Count Boris said decisively. "That is not an enemy you can deal with."
He hung up and looked at the people in the room.
"What are you all still doing here? Get out and keep searching! Dig three feet deep if you have to, find her accomplices!"
After everyone left, he hesitated for two seconds, then opened a secret door and picked up a communicator inside.
'I must notify the Duke. For the next matter, they must send more powerful warriors to defend against potential boarding attacks.'
'For example, the Emperor's Inner Guards would be excellent!'