The howling wind outside sounded like a person roaring, making the tent rattle as if it would be blown off at any moment. The flame in the oil lamp also flickered, as if it would be extinguished by an even stronger gust of wind. Yet, inside the tent with only two people, it was unusually quiet.
Faced with the silent Dingle, Dylan did not press further. Instead, he picked up his glass and drank it down in one gulp. He then picked up the bottle and gently swirled the remaining half-full of wine.
The reddish-brown Puchu liquor sloshed in the bottle, with unfiltered fruit pulp mixed with the liquor, swirling into fine foam. Dylan gradually stopped sloshing, his gaze fixed blankly on the bottle.
In the still liquid inside the bottle, the foam has begun to slowly break down, dissolve, and dissolve, while the fruit flocs begin to sink, settle, and settle at the bottom.
"Looking back over the past twelve years, I believe it was these wars that brought us the dawn and made us the great nation we are today."
"I am proud of my compatriots who sacrificed themselves on the battlefield. They died with honor, and I believe their spirit will continue." Dylan said to himself, but the expression on his face slowly turned bitter, sorrowful, and bewildered.
"But I no longer have the same unwavering expectations for the future of the empire as I did in the past."
At this point, Dylan shifted his gaze from the wine bottle to Dingle's drooping face, and continued:
"I must admit that it was this war, this war that lasted only a little over a month, that made me waver. From the fall of the Star Islands to the demise of the navy, all the way to today, now, the entire Suenham Province has fallen. If the pass falls too, then the Yan people will occupy the entire western border of the empire."
"As the supreme commander of the Sixth Army, perhaps I shouldn't say such things, but I truly... feel powerless..."
“I even think we can’t defeat the Yan people. Ten days ago, the Fourth Army was completely defeated, and even Brewster died in Heinrich. I never thought that bastard Brewster would die in his base because he was dragging the enemy down. This is not the Brewster I know.”
"And today, the Sixth Army, which I am so proud of, has suffered heavy casualties, with several divisions lost in the familiar Enzos Mountains. It seems that the same thing is happening again, only it has not yet reached the final stage."
"But I think it will be soon, won't it?"
Hearing Dylan's words, Dingle finally let out a long sigh. A few days ago, he realized that this battle in the Nzos Mountains was no longer a counterattack launched by taking advantage of the terrain, but a last resort of defense.
He even pessimistically believed that the empire's defeat was inevitable the day the Yan people led their army out of Enzos; it was only a matter of time.
Now, Dylan's words made Dingle realize that this was not just his own pessimistic view; even this high-ranking army general had realized the seriousness of the crisis.
Now, not only are there powerful enemies outside, but the empire is also experiencing turmoil within itself. Under such circumstances, the longer this war continues, the more difficult it will be to clean up the mess in the end.
Thinking of this, Dingle said, "As you said, sir, whether we can repel the Yan people at the pass is our last chance."
“If it fails, as you said, and then, I…I don’t know…” Dingle shook his head, swallowing the rest of his words with a heart full of sorrow.
Dylan looked at Dingle with a deep gaze and said, "Not everyone can judge just how bad our situation has become."
"And that's why I called you here."
"Dinger, tell me, how should we save our country now?"
The question was posed to Dingle, but it was undoubtedly a question that no one could answer, except for Dingle.
Several days ago, before the Yan army attacked the military base, when he and Harris came to Enzos with Verley to set up defenses, he had already vaguely found the answer in his mind during their conversation in the stone house.
The subsequent series of defeats and the deaths of countless soldiers made the answer increasingly clear, ultimately becoming a thorn in their hearts, an unspeakable truth.
But now that Dylan had asked so frankly, Dingle knew he had to be honest about what he was thinking.
He took a deep breath and looked at Dylan, whose expression was calm, and said:
"Over the past twelve years, under the leadership of the Great Emperor, our Golt Empire has gradually risen through countless battles to become the Delta Federation we are today. This is undoubtedly a remarkable achievement. During this period, countless brave warriors paid the price with their lives, but I think it was absolutely worth it."
Dylan held the bottle and nodded slightly.
Dingle continued:
"But sir, is this ongoing war propelling our nation to new heights, or is it sending us plummeting into the abyss?"
"I think... by today, each of us should have found some answers in our hearts, more or less."
Just then, Dylan suddenly asked, "Are you from Kosovo?"
Dingle shook his head: "How could that be, sir? I am an innocent Goth, and there isn't even any mixed-race in my family." He gave a self-deprecating laugh.
“But what you’re saying sounds a lot like those Kosovo rebels.” Dylan glared, but there was no anger on his face.
"Perhaps, but I think there is still a big difference, because I would never blame the Emperor. He was a great man who saved our country."
"But those very things that once led our nation to a brighter future are now beginning to backfire on us. If this is truly a mistake, then it is absolutely not the Emperor's fault..."
“This is a mistake we should all have to bear.” Dingle’s expression turned solemn, as did Dylan’s.
"If the war continues, the flames of war will be ignited on every piece of our land, but it will not be the same as before."
Hearing this, Dylan touched his face with one hand and said, "Yes, things are different now."
“In the past, we had nothing, and as long as we fought, we could take back what was ours. But now, we are gradually losing it.”
"Even... hehe... as those Kosovo rebels say, we've regressed to a state worse than before."
Dingle calmly said, "We have to stop the war and end all of this."
As soon as he finished speaking, the tent flap was suddenly blown open by the wind, and a strong gust of wind blew into the tent, causing the oil lamp flame to hiss. At this moment, Dylan said:
"But now, do we have the right to end the war?"
"No," Dingle replied sadly, and the flame of the oil lamp went out at that moment.
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