Chapter 392: Enemy and Us

Salvador is dead.

For both the people of the Ming District and the King's District, this was undoubtedly good news worth celebrating and encouraging. War and disaster had saturated this ancient land, permeating the stench of blood and death with an ever-increasing savory flavor. Some said it seemed as if the days of peace were but yesterday, while others believed these awful days would last five, ten, fifty, or even a century... In such circumstances, good news was the most precious thing.

Those foolish civilians were delighted by this, and even some simple and shabby celebrations were spontaneously held in various places. The name of the People's Party spread throughout the country again - but the bigwigs far away in the royal city were not very happy.

The Yankees were indeed greedy and terrible, but it turned out that they were capable of making deals. They just wanted some land, slaves and gold coins - but the filthy slaves of the Populist Party wanted their heads.

And at this time, rumors about "becoming a god" quietly spread.

Inside Kite Heart Palace, Esmerel stood before the magnificent, towering arched windows, silently gazing at the royal city in the twilight. She could sense a fresh restlessness in the air, a mixture of suspicion, greed, and a dangerous new desire.

A figure appeared quietly behind her.

"...Sir Sandro." The queen didn't even turn her head. Her voice was low and hoarse. "Please don't tell me that you believed the instigation of the people of Ferros."

"Is that so? But fate tells me that the people of Ferros do know how to become gods." The saint smiled strangely and replied vaguely, "It's just that his fate was cut short by that noble being. What a pitiful and pathetic blasphemer! He actually dared to challenge the dignity of a god..."

Esmerel slowly turned around, the candlelight dancing in the depths of her golden eyes, but it did not reflect any warmth.

"The people of Ferros will not let this go," the queen said in a cold tone. "They are a pack of overly greedy, insatiable snow wolves. The death of their leader will only cause them to panic briefly, but they will soon recover."

She slowly wiped her fingers across the white mist on the glass. "Besides these wolves that have infiltrated Silver Iris territory, countless silverfish and venomous snakes are lurking in the soil beneath our feet...even more terrifying and insatiable, intent on using this 'victory' to break out of the ground and gnaw at the very foundations of the empire."

"The brains of the People's Army are still in the north. The Empire's remaining military might must be used to deal with the People's Army within the country. We should seize the opportunity to root them out and exterminate them completely." Esmerel withdrew his hand and slowly wiped his fingers with a handkerchief. His expression was like that of a beast, ready to pounce, its fangs bared. "Since the people of Ferros want the Saint to leave the royal city, then we will grant his wish."

"As for the secret of becoming a god? Since Salvador is dead, you can go to the northern border to find out the truth on your own." A chilling meaning flashed across the depths of the golden beast's eyes.

"I want you to go deep into the north, deep into Fernloth, and plunge their royal family into the quagmire of misfortune. Let everything they thought was indestructible decay and collapse from within. Let's see who will chop off the enemy ruler's head faster." Her voice was not loud, but every word was loud and clear. "Those lands that belong to the Silver Iris Empire, I want those damned Yankees to spit out the same way they swallowed them!"

The lights illuminated the queen's thin and cold face. The true dictator of this empire was not tall, but the shadow behind her was terrifyingly huge. Deep in her beastly eyes were burning ambitions, a crazy desire for revenge, and a gambler's desperate bet of putting all his chips at stake.

Even Sandra was stunned for a moment by the woman's audacity and ruthlessness. When she realized what was happening, she burst into laughter: "—Dear Majesty! I truly admire your confidence and arrogance!"

"Cursing the entire royal bloodline of the Ferros Empire will come at an extraordinary cost, and it's beyond my control." Sandra observed the queen's expressionless face with interest. "I wonder what Silver Iris is willing to pay for this?"

"The Empire's Second Legion, far to the north, is at your disposal." Esmerel calmly observed the seemingly ordinary old woman before her. She knew that "commanding" meant more than simply handing over military power—it meant that these soldiers, who had managed to survive the enemy, would likely never again leave the cold and desolate tundra, body or soul.

"You are so cruel." Sandra sighed and shook his head. "It's a pity that it's still not enough."

The queen's golden eyes were emotionless. "What about the civilian troops from the north?"

"You want to kill me?" Sandra asked bluntly, a dangerous look gradually appearing on his face. Under the Saint's wrath, a breathtaking, terrifying pressure slowly crept toward Esmerel's toes. The candles flickered, then suddenly went out.

...Tsk, this old guy is neither crazy nor stupid now, Esmerel thought expressionlessly.

But there was no sign of panic on her face, as if it was just a very simple suggestion.

"The land of the North is already drenched in the blood and despair of soldiers and civilians from both nations. You don't need to confront the god yourself, nor do you need to face the ghost." The Queen leaned forward slightly, her voice irresistible. "You only need to go to the North, and the soldiers will naturally fall into panic and confusion. The overwhelming hatred, despair, chaos, and negativity created by death, the soldiers and civilians from both nations who were unable to evacuate in time, the sacrifices at your disposal—isn't that enough to pay the 'price' of your curse?"

"Fortunately or unfortunately, the North will become your perfect testing ground and hunting ground. This is what I can offer you." Seeing the man lapse into silence and contemplation, Esmerel's eyes flashed with a barely perceptible coldness. "Besides, the pursuit of supreme power is always full of risks. Who hasn't been a gambler, risking everything? If the people of Ferros truly possess the secret to godhood, then wouldn't you, at the center of this vortex, have a better chance than anyone else... of obtaining it?"

The anger and danger on Sandra's face gradually faded, replaced by a look of intense scrutiny. She stared at the man for a long moment, and then the saint whispered, "...Your Majesty, you never cease to amaze me."

"—but you did convince me."

She took a step forward, and her dry fingers drew a complex symbol in the air, causing the air around her to distort slightly.

"Then the deal is done." Sandro's eyes gleamed with excitement and desire. "All the misfortunes of the North are mine, and the doom of the House of Feroth is yours."

As soon as she finished speaking, her figure disappeared from the spot, leaving Esmerel standing alone in the empty and silent hall.

…

"Evacuate?"

A look of confusion appeared on Leon Croft's face. He didn't understand why they had to withdraw the front line on their own initiative when they had clearly won the battle.

It was not the place for a small soldier like him to question such an important strategic decision, but Ghost was very patient.

"Because the Feroth people's primary combat goal will no longer be to completely control the northern border and gradually swallow up the land to the south," the black-haired young man explained to him calmly, "but to advance directly alone and capture as many core cities of the empire as possible, including the royal city, within a limited time. This will try to intimidate Silver Iris as much as possible and gain more benefits."

"Salvatore and the priests are dead. Without the protection of the ice field, the Ferros's combat capabilities on the ice field have been greatly reduced. There's no point in lingering on the Saga Ice Field because they no longer need this more stable supply route." He tapped the map with a pen, drawing an even more winding route. "I suspect the Ferros will withdraw their forces soon. Following this route, they will desperately attack the land fortress and coordinate with the Ferros army in the heart of the Silver Iris to head straight for the royal city."

"In that case, there's not much point in us staying here on this desolate tundra. Furthermore, supply lines are difficult to come by. Any further delay would be extremely disadvantageous for us, and we're afraid we'll suffer heavy casualties." The professor paused, lowered his eyes, and added expressionlessly, "Furthermore, the Guardian of the Royal Court, Sandro, might arrive, so the People's Army will withdraw. I hope you can relay this message to the Imperial soldiers."

"Sir Sandro?" Leon was stunned for a moment, then he remembered that this was one of the only two saints left in the empire. His expression suddenly became happy: "Great! Another saint has come to take charge. Those damn Yankees will definitely not dare to be so arrogant again. Can we cooperate with Sir Sandro and drive them all out in one fell swoop?"

He clearly had great expectations for the power of the Saints, and had even begun to envision the scene of victory—two Saints! What was there to be afraid of?

But Leon quickly realized that he was no longer a member of the Empire, and that the Empire and the People's Party were hostile to each other—damn it! How could he dare to show such joy and excitement over the arrival of an enemy saint in front of the leader of the People's Party?!

But the ghost looked unhurried, and merely glanced at him with a faint air.

"Unfortunately, things may not be as optimistic as you imagine," he replied calmly. "According to historical facts, whenever Sandro, the Guardian of the Royal Court, participates in a battle, it always results in truly horrifying casualties, and there is no distinction between friend and foe."

The depths of those smoky gray eyes were emotionless as they coldly stared at Leon's gradually paling face. "Now, what do you think her arrival means to your former comrades?"