The tent was shrouded in darkness, but neither of them got up to light an oil lamp, and the conversation continued in the dim light.
“Now, the people of Yan have the right to end the war,” Dingle said.
"It's like a lame joke. As the initiator of this war between nations, the power to end it is in the hands of our enemies," Dylan said with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Yes, we can’t beat them, what can we do?” Perhaps because they couldn’t see each other’s expressions in the dim light, Dingle also laughed self-deprecatingly.
“It’s truly shameful; our dignity is being trampled on,” Dylan said, touching his face.
"Compared to dignity, the undeniable fact is that more and more people are dying. The fall of Suenham province makes it impossible for us to know what it is like now. A million soldiers alone have died. I don't even want to imagine what kind of lives those civilians are living now." Dingle's expression darkened again.
“Yes, although I’ve experienced this before, this time… it brings a different feeling…” Dylan sighed.
"Sir... because this is... a war that could have been avoided, but now we have to pay the price."
“I don’t want to admit what you’re saying, but maybe… you’re right.” As he finished speaking, the cork was pulled out, and in the darkness, Dingle heard the sound of the liquor being poured down his throat.
"Hiss—" Dylan gasped, the spicy liquor making his throat ache slightly.
"I think we have to wait until this war is over..."
“Let’s talk to the Yan people,” Dylan said.
Dingle's eyes widened suddenly, seemingly gleaming in the darkness, and he immediately followed up:
"Yes, sir. At its core, the conflict between us and Yan Kingdom hasn't reached the point of life or death. Perhaps... perhaps all we need is a negotiation to end all of this!"
Dylan couldn't see Dingle's expression, but upon hearing these urgent words, he couldn't help but sneer:
"Then you are being far too arrogant."
"You need to understand what we have to give up if we take the initiative to negotiate."
"And what do the Yan people, who have the advantage, want? Or even... will they give you that opportunity?"
Dingle frowned: "But we have to try to take this step. Must the whole country be engulfed in war before we have to admit defeat?"
“You’re acting like a capitulator now, Dingle,” Dylan said coldly.
Dingle did not refute such accusations, but instead said:
"A surrenderist? Perhaps. If it can preserve our country and reduce casualties among our people, then I would rather be a surrenderist."
"Dinger, have you completely forgotten the spirit of the Goths?!"
“Times have changed, sir. Back then, we fought for survival, but is that how it is now? I cannot accept the demise of our country. We must make choices to preserve our nation.” Dingle shook his head.
"Do you think the Emperor would lower himself and admit defeat in front of the Yan people?!" Dylan continued to question.
“Everything the Emperor has done is for our people, and this time, I believe he will realize what the right choice is!” Dingle replied.
"You are too young, Dingle. You have no idea what kind of man the Emperor is. He will lead his army and die on the battlefield fighting the enemy, even if he sheds his last drop of blood!"
"You have absolutely no idea what he's pursuing in all of this."
Upon hearing this, Dingle was taken aback: "Wh...what?"
“You’ll find out.” In the darkness, Dylan suddenly stood up and slapped Dingle on the shoulder.
Then, Dingle noticed Dylan slipping two letters into his hand, and at the same time, he heard a voice reeking of alcohol whispering in his ear:
"These are my handwritten letters, one for the Emperor and one for you."
"I have arranged for a team of messengers to go down the mountain immediately. You will go down with them to Salibia. After you hand the letter to the Emperor to him, you can open the letter to you."
Although he didn't know what was written in the letter, Dingle's expression changed upon hearing this. He could sense the determination in Dylan's words.
"Sir, how could I... at this time..."
Before he could finish speaking, Dylan continued, "What use is there for you, a surrenderist, to stay here?"
"Are we going to demoralize the troops and induce more people to surrender to the Yan Kingdom before the final battle?"
“I don’t want to see that happen. Not shooting you is the biggest concession I’ve made. I’ve never been lenient with guys like you before.”
"Sir...I..." Dingle began, but was interrupted again.
"Don't try to convince me with Harris's rhetoric again. He's on the summit, so it's inconvenient for him to come and go. If it were convenient, I would personally drag him down. Disobeying military orders must be dealt with."
"He decided to stay on the summit to carry out the blast, which shows he was prepared to sacrifice himself, so I forgive him. As for you, don't even think about disobeying my orders!"
Dingle then said, "Sir, didn't you just say that we need to negotiate with the Yan people?"
"But you are now..."
“The next battle is a negotiation, kid, you understand?” Dylan pressed his forehead against Dingle’s, almost face to face with him.
This allowed Dingle to clearly see his serious, resolute, yet slightly sorrowful expression in the dim light.
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