People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

"I don't know!"

Chapter Forty-Nine: Holy Son, Thank You, Gangmen

Kent Windermere felt a little dizzy. He reached up and rubbed his head, the warm liquid instantly sending a piercing warning through his mind, like a kettle boiling over.

Having governed this area for so many years, he knows very well what the feel of his hands usually means.

His thoughts raced with the help of the pain. Instead of immediately opening the thick, warm leather bag, he looked at his daughter beside him in the dim light.

Defen Windermere looked pained, a gruesome scratch on her arm, and half of the warm liquid Kent touched was mixed with his own daughter's.

Fortunately, what scratched Daphne was clearly not a knife or Originium; the fragments left by the wound proved that it was just an ordinary stone.

Fortunately in misfortune.

Kent Windermere breathed a slight sigh of relief, then struggled to adjust his position, took out the warm fur from under him, wrapped it around Daphne's arm, barely managed to stop the bleeding, took a deep breath, and lifted the fur bag.

A biting, icy wind swept over him, and his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. But soon he realized that his trembling stemmed not only from the cold but also from his current predicament.

The powerful pack animal, capable of carrying four people and a cargo sled, lay on its side on the snow, its belly oozing blood and contents, creating a splendid impressionistic painting on the ground. The burly Sherag man who had escorted them was kneeling on the snow, shield in one hand, panting heavily.

There were no enemies around, but there were signs of a battle.

Kent Windermere, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield, immediately drew a conclusion. He opened his fur bag, crawled onto the snow, looked at Matthon Yerk in the distance, pursed his lips, raised his hand, and the ring on his ring finger shimmered with a faint red light.

A sophisticated spellcasting unit is something a general like Anferis would always carry, as it might come in handy when facing assassins.

When she took it upon herself to replace the processed Originium ring originally prepared for her with this ring and wore it as a token of love exchanged at the wedding, Kent Windermere even joked with her:

"Isn't this like giving your husband a knife at your wedding? That's incredibly insensitive!"

What was her answer to herself back then?

The image flashed through Kent Windermere's mind. Even at her wedding, Amphilis, who hadn't worn a white wedding dress, firmly declared, "To me, I'm giving you my second life."

He now understood what Amphilis meant; she was right, that little ring might indeed give him a second life at times.

Upon spotting the dark figure, Kent Windermere raised his left hand, and the red light on his ring coalesced into a red bolt of lightning, which shot straight toward the back of Horn Peak.

"Crack-!"

A thunderous roar echoed through the empty valley. Horn Peak whirled around, his heavy shield swung in quick succession as he changed his stance, slamming into the figure behind him who had suddenly frozen in place, wearing a gray windproof hat.

"boom!"

The heavy shield clashed with the hastily raised bayonet, and the immense force of the hooves instantly sent Phil flying, crashing to the snow, unconscious.

Horn Peak took a few heavy breaths before standing up, walking forward, raising the giant shield in his hand, intending to finish off the man before him.

Kent Windermere called out to him, “Stop! Tie him up.”

Horn Peak turned around, looked at the man who had stood up by supporting himself on the rocks, pondered for a moment, nodded, untied the climbing rope from his waist, and tied the man's hands and feet behind his back. Only then did he walk towards Kent.

"is that OK?"

"It's alright. Just a little blood." Kent shook his head.

Horn Peak walked to the dead pack animal, took out a slightly twisted small stove from the scattered cargo sleds, checked it, placed it on the snow, and pressed the start button.

The Originium within the inner lining began to gradually heat up, radiating a pleasant warmth. Horn waved to Kent:

"Come here, be careful of hypothermia."

Kent nodded, walked to the pack animal, picked up the unconscious Daphne, and sat down by the fireplace.

"What happened?" he asked.

Horn Peak clicked his tongue, and the usually gentle and composed muscular man in front of Ernst and Ensiodis revealed an undisguised expression of anger on his face:

"Your guard is the problem. He stabbed the pack animal with a knife on the mountain path! The frightened animal dragged me down the mountain with it!"

Kent's face darkened. He glanced at the guard lying in the distance, especially at the gray windproof hat on his head, and a guess was already in his mind.

It should have been noticed sooner. The Grey Hats under the Duke of Caesar were experts in intelligence infiltration and assassination.

He cursed inwardly. But he also knew that it was really asking too much of anyone to be on guard against every single person around him wearing a gray hat.

However, the person who arranged this secret trip was a confidant of the Duke's mansion!

If even she herself has been assassinated, then those around Anferis are probably also...

Thinking of the Duke's secret meeting that was about to be held in Londinium, Kent's heart sank even further.

To kill me, all they need to do is force Anferis to go there in person. The Duke of Caesar has grand ambitions.

He sighed, forcibly suppressing his inner speculations about the unpredictable situation involving Victoria and Windermere, and turned his gaze to the present, asking:

"Then how come he fell down too?"

"Hmph. This is Shelag, after all." The Matterhorn scoffed, then added, as if boasting, "He underestimated the power of the snow-capped mountains. The screams and commotion of a pack animal, along with three people and a cartload of goods, rolling down the mountain is enough to trigger a small avalanche on a mountain road that has been neglected for a long time."

Kent Windermere chuckled upon hearing this.

The traitor he had so carefully guarded against, yet failed to prevent, ultimately fell victim to an unexpected event. No wonder the mighty "Grey Hat of Cassel" was so weakly knocked away by a single shield. The power of nature is indeed beyond human resistance.

It's only thanks to this place, Sherag, that such a miracle could occur amidst misfortune.

“Don’t be too happy yet.” The Matterhorn’s voice rang out again, making Kent Windermere’s heart, which had just been relieved, jump again. “We are at the foot of the mountain now, and we are all injured. There is no way up the mountain, and if we are not rescued in time, we will all die of hypothermia within a few hours after this small furnace runs out of energy.”

Kent Windermere's face paled, and he instinctively tightened his embrace around Defiance.

"Doesn't the Shelag government have any rescue measures in place? Like small aircraft, drones, snowmobiles, or rescue cableways?"

The Matterhorn shook its head helplessly and asked in return:

"Sir, have you forgotten why you came to Shelag?"

For what?

Kent Windermere's lips twitched.

To attend the opening ceremony of the first train in Shelag.

Oh shit!

He reached out and smacked the snow.

The things he mentioned were all too extravagant for Sherag. Not to mention Sherag, which only had one train, even on Earth with rescue helicopters, rescue operations in the high mountains and icy plains would be extremely difficult.

"So, the man in the grey hat didn't choose to attack me directly, but instead attacked the pack animal?"

"If the pack animal gets startled and falls off the cliff, even if I survive the fall, no one can save me."

"Compared to risking a direct fight on a narrow mountain path and giving me a chance to escape, this method is the real kill, leaving no escape."

Understanding dawned on him, and Kent closed his eyes in despair.

But Matthon reassured them, "But it's not entirely hopeless. My boss and his brother will try to find us."

Kent suddenly opened his eyes: "What are the chances?"

“Don’t worry,” Matthon said. “Mr. Ernst is a holy man, blessed by the great god Jeragund.”

Matthon placed his hands together in front of his chest and said sincerely from the bottom of his heart, "Pray patiently for the great god Jeragund to perform a miracle."

Kent stared blankly at his actions, wanting to curse, but the words wouldn't come out.

He could only glance at Defiance in his arms and silently wrap his own fur around her as well.

At least let her hold on a little longer.

As for the talk of Jeragund and the Holy Son, he did not believe it.

...........

As the wind and snow blew, the Originium stove that someone had been longing for stubbornly resisted the invasion of the low temperature, revealing its compassionate heart and releasing warm energy.

As he gradually lost blood and body temperature, he became delirious. The man named Kent Windermere seemed to see two dark clouds in the sky that turned into two eyes, and mountain ranges that coalesced into a giant mouth, exhaling a warm breath in his direction.

The pure air flew towards him, swirling and turning around him, finally carrying him, Daphne, and Matthon into the air. It shielded them from the surrounding biting wind and transported them to an unfamiliar town.

"and many more."

His mind suddenly cleared, and the injuries that had been difficult to heal and were eroding his mind vanished in the blink of an eye. He looked around sharply. The simple, low-ceilinged house had no superfluous decorations. There was a fur sofa with frayed edges but solid wood underneath, and an unbalanced desk that seemed to creak. Behind the desk sat a handsome young man holding an oval-shaped rune stone that emitted a seven-colored light.

It was a scene that seemed perfectly harmonious and warm, yet was also filled with a sense of absurdity. Only the warm fur tightly wrapped around Defiance in his arms reminded him that the desperate situation he had just faced was not a delusion or a fantasy.

Having spent so many years navigating the political and battlefield landscape, Kent Windermere, who had steadfastly rejected all superstition, now found his unwavering faith wavering.

He thought for a moment, recalling the words Matterhorn had spoken some time ago, and mimicked putting his hands together in a wai (a gesture of prayer), saying in a broken accent:

"Holy Son, thank you, Gangmen."

There are pictures here, which can be viewed after the updated version

There's not much to write about, but the editor insisted I write this, so I'll just write a little bit.

Needless to say, the impetus for writing this book was the Tongliao Khan, the great Little John! I read every single issue; it's the perfect accompaniment to meals!

Actually, I initially wanted to write something like the video of Emperor Norton, but after thinking about it, Columbia doesn't seem to have the conditions for writing that. The setting of the AI ​​as the president is a bit of a bottleneck, which is a bit of a pity.

In the end, I chose Shelag, a place with a quirky little country and hardcore, ruthless people, both in its setting and its characters.

Surrounded by powerful nations and coveted by many countries, and plagued by internal factional divisions and stagnant social development, Kjerag is a unique and promising little country, but it has Yeragand, the powerful SilverAsh who appeared out of nowhere, and the already successful Kjerag trade.

Therefore, I am writing this to describe a broader Terra from the protagonist's perspective.

The reason the protagonist is set as a "cloud player" (someone who only recognizes characters through memes) is to avoid giving him too much of an omniscient perspective, making everything feel like a deus ex machina – for example, the protagonist knows where and when SSR characters spawn, so he flies there at the perfect time, picks them up, and runs away, quickly amassing a large number of powerful players and six-star characters in Kjerag within days. Despite being the leader of a small country with little resources or power, he manages to manipulate major powers using secrets provided by the game.

If the rise of peculiar little countries could be so miraculous, then the failures of Burkina Faso and Chile, the helplessness of Benin, and the near-fatal failure of Grenada would not be so impressive or regrettable.

I want to write a story with the flavor of Khan, the political comedy of a minister/prime minister, and a lot of the flavor of Terran local culture.

If you like it, please subscribe!

Thank you everyone, Gangmen!

Chapter 50: A Hundred Billion Yuan Subsidy for Wen Duoduo! (Seeking First Subscription)

Unlike the stone of dubious authenticity in the Holy Stone Square, the Jeragund Stone in Ernst's hand is a genuine relic.

One morning, a wisp of Jeragand's will resided in the sacred stone that suddenly appeared in Ernst's coat pocket. Whenever Ernst prayed to the sacred stone, Jeragand would receive messages and offer help.

Unlike the restrictive gifts in some unorthodox myths and legends, the stones of Jeragund require no extra sacrifices or rituals. In the words of the Jeragund gods themselves, it is:

"A deal that requires a price is a devil's bargain; my love is selfless and boundless."

What a great god! Even Ernst, who prided himself on being a pragmatist and had little piety, was moved to tears.

People are taught from a young age that the most selfless love in the world is a mother's love. Ernst wished he could change his prayer to Jeragund into a Seraphim translation of "Only Mother Is Good in the World".

Of course, the divine stone can't be used casually. First, Yeragand's feelings must be considered. Although she won't complain, Ernst can't treat her like a customer service representative who's always available. As the famous void god Raven12345 once said, "The biggest reason for eroding a god's love for people is the daily barrage of complaints and prayers, like bad reviews for takeout."

Secondly, one must also consider one's own situation. Over-reliance on the Jeragand Stones might turn one into a useless person, then what difference would there be between that and the Grand Elder?

Regarding these two principles, Ernst only attempted to use the Divine Stone twice. The first time was when he encountered Hintria and Roy in Casimir, to prevent the smiling assassin from doing anything rash, he grasped the Divine Stone. The second time was this time.

Ernst carefully wrapped the divine stone in a handkerchief and placed it back in the inner pocket of his chest. Looking at Kent Windermere, who was sitting blankly on the sofa, he couldn't help but ask with concern:

"Hello? Are you alright?"

Kent then stood there, stunned, raising his hands together in prayer, and said in a blasphemous tone and with a devout expression, "Holy Son, thank you, Gangmen."

Ernst: "........."

He suddenly understood how Vina felt when he spoke Victoria.

She really has worked hard!

Ernst composed himself, feeling guilty, and poured Kent a cup of hot tea.

"There's no need to be so polite. Mr. Representative, and the lady in your arms, the most important thing is that you are all safe and sound."

Kent took the teacup and gulped down two mouthfuls, completely ignoring the unsuitable temperature. Only after his entire body warmed up did he regain his composure and slowly say:

“Just call me Kent, Kent Windermere. This is my daughter, the daughter of the Duke of Windermere, Daphne Windermere. Thank you very much for the miracle you have performed, Your Highness.”