Sixteen, troublesome aftermath matters
The winter sun, devoid of warmth, shines through the clouds and onto the valley shrouded in mist, as well as the ruins littered with rubble. The Grey Fortress and its surrounding commercial district were completely destroyed in last night's battle, people rummaging through the dusty piles of debris, searching for survivors while also salvaging valuable items.
The open space cleared near the ruins was filled with corpses and wounded waiting for treatment. The crazy actions of the spy elves resulted in at least two thousand deaths and many more injuries, a massive workload that even if all the small temples in the hot spring valley were exhausted to death, they couldn't finish it. Soldiers who had fought hard all night had to drag their tired bodies, holding documents with the commander's seal, to collect priests and medicine from all over the countryside. Fortunately, the weather was cold, and wounds wouldn't inflame for a while, as long as they didn't lose too much blood, these people generally still had a good chance of making it until they could receive treatment.
The politicians who narrowly escaped didn't have time to mourn the deceased colleagues, perhaps they never intended to mourn those competitors either. They swarmed into Speaker Zena's villa like a swarm of bees for a post-mortem meeting, which was actually a conference to divide the spoils. Without the pressure of maintaining their image in front of reporters - the first batch of journalists who heard the news hadn't arrived yet - these "black-hearted" guys had no mental energy to discuss current priorities such as treating the wounded and pursuing the remaining enemies, but they were arguing fiercely over filling the vacant positions.
This unrest resulted in the deaths of over a hundred state legislators and government officials, with many more physically disabled and mentally traumatized. Several state legislatures will be forced to dissolve and re-elect due to insufficient quorum, and the previously negotiated positions of war zone commanders will naturally need to be redistributed. At this moment of great upheaval in the political arena, if one does not seize the opportunity to gain an advantage for oneself, can they still claim to have the professional ethics of a politician? (Generally speaking, the professional ethics of politicians is to prioritize interests above all else.)
Apart from the vacant position, there is also a big fat sheep waiting for these politicians to devour. With the collapse of Grayfort, Morley Soliton's crazy adventure to steal the Mithril Core ended in failure, and even took the life of the old patriarch of the Soliton family. However, the troubles of the Soliton family are far from over, as all the new politicians in Narsiel are drooling with greed, casting their covetous eyes on the family's vast assets spread across thirteen states. Moreover, several members of the Soliton family were identified among the prisoners who crawled out of the ruins, and even the flying ship used as a criminal tool was confirmed to be modified from the Soliton family's luxury air yacht, which is ironclad evidence that cannot be denied, and only a large sum of gold coins can soothe the wounded hearts of these politicians.
If the Solerton family does not sacrifice a large piece of meat to satisfy the wolves' stomachs after making such a serious political mistake, it is likely that politicians from various states will not hesitate to launch public opinion and label the entire family as traitors. Then, they will devour the fat sheep called the Solerton family, skin and bones together. Now, what needs to be discussed is how to maximize the interests of all parties present while avoiding pushing the Solerton family to desperation and open rebellion, and how to make a quick and ruthless strike.
As the airship was destroyed by debris from the Gray Castle, Mort Solerton had no choice but to activate the teleportation ring he had recently purchased for safety. Unfortunately, he also bought Filius Taylor's "Absolutely Safe Teleportation Jewelry".
As a result, the victim of this inferior product was hit by another blow in Lettie, and the lucky alchemist also gained the great merit of "bravely capturing the enemy leader" after capturing Idriel. The politicians discussing how to slaughter the Soliton family had a good tool that could be expanded at will - wasn't it possible to get whatever confession they wanted? In view of Fili's significant contribution to this distribution conference, the responsibility for selling inferior "absolutely safe transmission jewelry" in the past was naturally exempted by the politicians and given him a very glorious task.
"Am I supposed to handle the Mithril core and move it to Emon?" Looking up at the large iron box floating above his head, Phil Taylor's bald head, which had been shaved again due to his hair being burned off once more, was covered in cold sweat, big drops of sweat, and even a waterfall of sweat.
Gentlemen, do you know how terrifying the Mithril Core is?! That's the pinnacle of Norselre's arcane civilization, comparable to a super-hazardous nuclear reactor from another world! And this is something that could self-destruct at any moment, and you're having me, a university graduate who just entered society, handle it...
Fili couldn't help but recall the records in his textbook about the Mithril Core: touching the Mithril Core was a fatal action, anyone who came into contact with it would be killed instantly. Any object (even magical objects) that touched it would immediately disintegrate. Any undead creature that came into contact with the Mithril Core would be destroyed instantly...
He shrugged and looked around for someone or something that could help, but Renny was busy with the local pastors rescuing the wounded, Charlotte was directing the remaining soldiers to clear the rubble, they were all exhausted like dogs, and couldn't be expected to do so. Moreover, even if he wanted to deceive them into doing such a dangerous job, not to mention that Phil himself was unwilling, it would be impossible to deceive these guys who were more cunning than devils.
As for Great Druid... Fili searched for half a day and finally found a group of bears practicing handstands on a nearby hill. A giant bear, over two people tall, was demonstrating in front of them. Its seemingly clumsy body was incredibly agile at this moment. He single-handedly did handstands, with both feet holding up a large leather ball, occasionally tossing it into the air and catching it with his feet. One of its paws had a large bell attached to it, which rang twice every time it moved. Great Druid shook the bell and tossed the ball while doing handstands with one paw, truly worthy of being the star of the New Magic Sorblay City Circus. The injuries from last night seemed to have no effect on his skills. Little Griselda followed beside him, holding a large basket filled with sausages and salted meats, constantly stuffing delicious food into Great Druid's mouth, apparently their coordination was very tacit.
Those bear dogs were drooling over the sausages and salted meats, and they even tried to do handstands, but unfortunately their skills were not up to par. One by one, they fell over in all directions, and occasionally some of them managed to stand upside down successfully, only to be knocked over by the ones who failed nearby. The great druid let out a loud roar, and little Grena picked up the whip and started lashing at the stupid bears' heads with it. Phil took a closer look and vaguely recognized that this was the erotic nine-tailed whip he had made himself. It seemed that Grena also had great potential to become a queen in the future.
Feri's forehead was once again covered in cold sweat: Mr. Vini, are you training your personal guard to perform circus acts for the elves on the front lines?
It's better to let these bears die gloriously for the noble mission entrusted by their superiors than to let them lose face. After finding a self-deceiving excuse, the evil alchemist once again harbored the idea of "dead friends are not dead, poor Tao is not dead", and stretched out his sinful claws towards the simple and kind-hearted bears.
Norman gazed with bloodshot red eyes, sleepless for a night, at the people around him who were chattering incessantly about each position, feeling extremely annoyed in his heart.
Just after becoming the war zone chief, he encountered such a terrorist attack and theft of state secrets, which is simply a big irony to his ruling and military capabilities. What's even more frustrating is that due to the large number of deaths among members of parliament and bureaucrats, the originally scheduled personnel structure of the war zone chief office had to be rebuilt from scratch. His own position can only truly take effect after these people below discuss and come up with a program, otherwise, even if he issues orders, there will be no one to execute them.
But the situation is really urgent now, Lieutenant Colonel Goddard died inexplicably, who knows if the Seventh Fleet will think it's their own conspiracy and play a military coup. Even if such a serious problem didn't happen, there might still be a big chaos within the Seventh Fleet, and we need to think carefully about how to control this new continent's only sea power in the future.
Apart from this, after all, Mor·Soliton has been in a high position in the military for many years, and it is unknown how many of his accomplices are still in the remnants of the New Continental Army in Lake State, and the garrison is not far from Wenshui Valley. If they suddenly launch a desperate counterattack, conservatively speaking, just one battalion can solve this group of exhausted soldiers who are running out of ammunition within the time it takes to eat a meal, which is a matter of life and death!
It all comes down to not having enough troops at his disposal. If he had tens of thousands of strong soldiers under his command like the local generals, there would be no need for such trouble; if the locals didn't cooperate, he could simply impose martial law, which was within the authority of a war zone commander. However, considering the Giant Bear Army's current scale, which couldn't even gather 5,000 people, and Charlotte's disastrous evaluation that they "couldn't even beat the dwarves", he had to put this tempting idea aside and continue patiently negotiating with his counterpart, striving to get the War Zone Commander's Office up and running as soon as possible, so that the position he had fought hard for would be worthy of its name.
But just as he was working hard with the expectation of taking office soon, a sudden piece of bad news almost gave this senior politician who was at the peak of his career a heart attack, and also temporarily put an end to the endless flattery.
"The Spirit Army is about to land in Emon!"
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