People in Terra, governing a bizarre little country

Putting aside everything else, on the battlefield, if someone sells you a pack of Oripathy infection barrier agents, or a set of protective clothing that is qualified or not so qualified, would you buy it or not?

The answer is, countless people flock to it!

He could offer ten times the market price, yet countless people still flocked to him, eager for that one chance. After all, once infected with Oripathy, even if you had the money, you wouldn't live to enjoy it!

But Rhodes Island was different; they didn't make any money.

The company gained an opportunity from Duke Windermere to get involved in the battlefield of Londinium, but it didn't make a single penny from this opportunity. Cheap Oripathy inhibitors, overpriced protective suits, and "operators" roaming the battlefield as medics—these resources were wasted on the battlefield, even on the Sarkaz, and they didn't even earn a good reputation.

After all, your "selflessness" may not necessarily earn you the understanding of both sides on this life-or-death battlefield.

If the Sarkaz see you healing Victorian soldiers, they will attack you. If the Victorians see you collecting Sarkaz corpses, they will mistake you for a royal sorcerer and fire upon you before you forge the corpses into new weapons.

It's ridiculous and pathetic, but that's reality.

Therefore, the dukes couldn't understand why they were here doing such a thankless task.

Several earls and officers, acting as henchmen for unknown reasons, attempted to probe Rhodes Island. However, they were warned by both the Duke of Caesar and the Duke of Windermere.

That means, let them do whatever they want.

There's no need to help them or care about them.

Over time, although Rhodes Island gained some fame among the dukes, the general public viewed the organization with more suspicion than curiosity, and more indifference than friendliness.

At that moment, when they heard that this "military suggestion" actually came from the mouth of a "medical department head," everyone laughed.

You made everyone laugh!

"Duke Windermere."

"The Little Duke," said Elinor, the Earl of March, representing the Duke of Normandy and also the Earl of Victoria, with a smile.

"I have never questioned your ability to command battles, but isn't this a bit like grasping at straws in desperation?"

"What right does a doctor have to offer so-called military advice to the Allied Supreme Military Council? That's quite a joke, Duke Windermere. If you're trying to lighten the mood, you've certainly succeeded."

"However, next time, we can say something even more outrageous, like, let's fight the Sarkaz with syringes and scalpels~ or something like that. Don't be so serious, making it seem like it's real."

Duke Windermere remained expressionless, giving Earl March a cold glance. Only after he finished speaking, after her smile froze, and after she was on the verge of losing her composure, did Duke Windermere scoff:

“Yes, thank you for reminding me, Eleanor.”

"But I also want to remind you, young duke. Don't use that offbeat humor you learned from the Colombians inappropriately."

“This isn’t a circus; I didn’t save a spot for the clown.”

Eleanor's face visibly flushed red. She braced herself on the table with both hands, as if she was about to slam her fist on it and get up, but no matter how hard she tried, the chair seemed to be glued on, and she couldn't move her bottom an inch.

The Duke of Windermere completely ignored her.

She's just a representative of the Duke of Normandy. Let alone how much of her title "Little Duke" is exaggerated, even if the Duke of Normandy himself came here, why would Windermere need to give him face?

Don't forget who the current commander-in-chief of the coalition is! When her command headquarters had problems back then, she could have turned it upside down, wiped it out, and started all over again. Does she think she wouldn't dare to do that now?

No matter how outrageous Kal'tsit's suggestion is, since she has spoken it, those present must seriously analyze and discuss it.

Mocking the Allied Commander-in-Chief and making sarcastic remarks about her? It seems I've been reasoning with you too much, and you've lost your sense of hierarchy.

Finally, the Duke of Caesar stepped in and smoothed things over:

“Eleanor is young after all, and I think old Normandy will discipline her well.”

"Young? What kind of excuse is youth? I don't expect her to be as good as my Ernst, but my Daphne is much younger than her, and isn't she more sensible?"

The Duke of Windermere chuckled coldly, but with that, the matter was essentially closed. Eleanor, of course, would be left to the Duke of Normandy to "discipline."

The Duke of Cassel's lips twitched, and he gave the Duke of Windermere, who was standing there talking without any real understanding of the situation, a look of disbelief. It was as if he were getting to know her all over again!

How come I never noticed before? How can you be so shameless?

What do you mean, "my Ernst"? When did Ernst's last name become "Windermere"? Or is it that your little one's last name became "Shivaish"?

Yes, you have a daughter, you're remarkable, but in terms of kinship, I should be closer to you than to this distant Duke of Windermere, right?

Rolling his eyes silently, the Duke of Caesar decided to steer the conversation back on track:

"We both know the defenses of Windermere and Lentinium well; a direct assault is virtually impossible. Are you serious?"

Almost impossible, but not entirely impossible.

This simply means that the price to be paid will be extremely high, so high that the coalition forces may not be able to bear it!

After all, it was the largest mobile city on land and the capital of the core hegemon. Even back then, when the grand dukes joined forces to overthrow the Aslan royal family, the method they chose was to let Londinium fall into chaos on its own.

It's true that the strongest fortresses are often breached from within. But don't forget the prerequisite—this fortress must be very strong.

If it weren't for the dukes' assessment, the Aslan royal family, with their steam knights and city defense troops, could have easily worn down Londinium, and they would have already launched an armed pilgrimage!

Not everyone on Terra is Ernst. For the Grand Duke, whose moral standards and anthropomorphism are very flexible, the use of force is never the last resort!

Windermere was aware of this, which is why she held this meeting.

As the commander-in-chief of the coalition forces, theoretically, she wouldn't need to consult with everyone like she is now when launching some small-scale battles.

This was the power granted to her by the dukes.

Only when it's a decision like this, which could directly affect the outcome of this battle, will she lay her cards on the table and seek opinions.

Otherwise, if a fight breaks out and someone realizes they can't hold on and runs away halfway through, that would be quite awkward.

"Gao Duoting, what do you think?"

The Duke of Windermere did not rush to answer; instead, she looked at another person at the table.

Gao Duoting had originally planned to go home. To be precise, he had been living in the neighboring city for quite some time, and if the war continued to stalemate, he would have to return to his own territory.

The estate's new wine is almost ready; he always drinks the first glass!

But now, he's been dragged back and has no choice but to attend this meeting. Windermere is asking him questions, and he's quite helpless about it.

After a moment of silence, he gave his answer:

"Ms. Kal'tsit is a doctor, and she takes death far too lightly."

He said this in a very subtle way.

Of those present, perhaps only Kester understood his deeper meaning.

He wasn't just referring to the potential massive casualties the Allied forces might suffer during their assault; he was also subtly mentioning the casualties on the Londinium side.

When besieging an enemy, leave an opening; when pursuing a desperate enemy, do not chase them. They have already witnessed the strength of the Sarkaz over the past six months.

If this pack of mad dogs were to actually jump over the wall, how much of a threat would they pose?

Even if we disregard Sarkaz's final madness, what about Lontinem?

The Grand Dukes have not attacked Lontinim not entirely because no one wants to be cannon fodder, but also because what would happen to Lontinim if they actually took it?

It's no exaggeration to say that this metropolis could easily exist as a city-state like Laterano, a nation on its own! After so many sacrifices to conquer it, who will eat it? Who will eat it? Or will we all eat it together?

Let’s take another 10,000 steps back.

Kal'tsit is a doctor, and she takes death far too lightly.

The Shards possess considerable power, a fact that the Grand Dukes are generally aware of to some extent. Duke Kasper, as the sister of the last Emperor Aslan, knows even more. But if the Shards truly possess the power Kal'tsit claims, and if the Sarkaz have very likely already repaired it, then…

Is this all-out attack a gamble with the lives of these grand dukes and their soldiers?

Duke Zcaster and Godottin exchanged a knowing glance. Finally, Godottin spoke:

"To be honest, I don't think this is a good idea."

"But the enemy will not give up attacking you because of your concerns."

A deep, muffled voice rang out, refuting Godotin's words, but it did not come from Duke Windermere.

The group's gazes turned to the last seat, the seat of the long-absent Duke of Wellington, now occupied by a red dragon.

Q. Abrahman had been an observer at the meetings, and the dukes tacitly accepted her takeover of Wellington's fleet. This fleet was a key component of the Allied forces, and being leaderless or forced to withdraw would be bad news. Moreover, Abrahman's actions were so swift, and the Duke of Wellington's past precautions so effective, that even before Curst had a chance to infiltrate Wellington's subordinates, Abrahman's takeover of the fleet was already a fait accompli.

But it's impossible to get the Red Dragon to sit on equal footing with them at the meeting.

The Dukes of N were still trying to divide Wellington's fleet, recruit them, and bring them under their control. Until then, Abrahana could only serve as "Wellington's representative" and have an observer seat at the meetings.

She shouldn't have had the right to speak.

In fact, it wasn't her who was speaking.

Abrahana leisurely took out a communication terminal from her bosom, and the voice coming from it, though many years had passed, was unforgettable.

That's the Duke of Wellington speaking.

"Don't wait until a natural disaster strikes before initiating city evacuation."

"Victorians, have the courage to fire upon natural disasters!"

Chapter 804 The Spark of Life

Six hours before the Supreme Military Conference of the Victorian Empire's Allied Forces, Londinium, suspected to be held in Victoria.

The weather was clear and sunny with a light breeze and good visibility. The terrible storm that struck Lentinium two weeks ago has now disappeared, and you can't see any trace of it in this blue sky.

Nature's artistry sculpted this land with its mild climate, beautiful scenery, and abundant resources. The Victorians occupied it, built cities, established a nation, and used it as the center to encompass the empire and the sphere of influence of its allies, which they called the "inner circle."

Yes, the Inner Circle did indeed refer to the central valley of Terra and the surrounding area in the past. However, after Victoria gained control of Terra, the name took on more of a "political connotation," gradually evolving into the meaning of "Victoria and her allies' circle." The former meaning, along with the scenery of this land that countless people envied, became secondary.

"Wellington, what were you thinking when you first stepped into Londinium?"

Is it a sigh of admiration for the city's grandeur, a sigh of the weight of Victorian history, or perhaps a reflection on the capriciousness of one's own fate?

From a military nobleman who was not particularly outstanding and even considered inferior due to his birth, to the Duke of Wellington, who became famous and known as the "Death Knell of the Empire" and who destroyed Gaul, his life can be described as legendary!

Countless scholars have written biographies of him and recounted his life story. Every military textbook on Terra contains the military tactics he created. Even the Duke of Caster, with his illustrious family background, Aslan blood, and extensive network of connections, could only shrink back cautiously like a child when he first met him, looking up at this great conqueror.

Everyone was curious about what the Duke of Wellington was thinking. But just like Corsica I, the Gallic emperor who had made a fatal mistake in the War of the Four Emperors, no one dared to say that they could guess.

Abrahman wasn't the first person to ask this question, but she was perhaps the first in all these years to have the opportunity and the courage to ask it directly to the Duke of Wellington.

She withdrew her gaze from the scenery outside Gastrill's window, turned back to the old man lying flat in the mechanical therapy machine, glanced at the dense array of life monitoring devices attached to his body, at his aged face with a ventilator attached, at his cloudy, lifeless eyes, and sighed softly.

The Duke of Wellington has fallen.

In truth, many people could vaguely guess this ending. The Duke of Cassel, the Duke of Godotington, even the Duke of Windermere—who among them wouldn't have suspicions?

The fact that a veteran general relinquished command and control of the army during such a long period of turmoil, and even allowed a red dragon to step into power at this inopportune moment, speaks volumes.

Battle reports can be deceiving, but the front lines won't. Intelligence can be flawed, but actions won't.

People just don't believe it.

The Duke of Wellington will not die so easily. He must be plotting something. Even though he has not shown his face for a long time, it can only mean that he is preparing a bigger plan!

Everyone thought so, and this confidence did not come from their own judgment, but from Wellington's early life and his infamous reputation!

Who could believe that the Grand Duke, who fought his way through countless battles, would be ambushed and killed by the Sarkaz? If you actually believed that, you'd be the one to suffer the consequences, and everyone would laugh at you!

But Abrahana knew very well that Wellington was truly dead. The old man lying in this life support pod was nothing but a mangled body.

To put it simply—it's hanging by a thread.

He could no longer command as he used to; he didn't even have the strength to issue an order. He lay there, still breathing, perhaps still somewhat conscious, but it was no different from being dead.

In other words, the Duke of Wellington had already made clear arrangements for his affairs after his death. Otherwise, given his current state, if he were to encounter someone with ill intentions, there would be no way to explain himself.

You said to pass the throne to Abrahma? What? I didn't hear you clearly, I think you said to pass the throne to Raphsini?

Yes, yes, Lafshinie, it's all Drak, the Duke of Wellington was talking about Lafshinie!

That's roughly the situation.

Fortunately, none of that happened. No one was prepared to lose the Duke of Wellington, except himself.

Abrahana knew that Wellington couldn't answer, and she wasn't the kind of person who liked to talk to a living corpse. As a leader, her ultimate goal might not seem grand to others, but the determination she put into achieving it was quite remarkable.

Abrahana knew very well what she should do and what she was capable of doing.

Therefore, she recalled Lavshini.

Abrahma once hoped that Mandra and Ahmoni could correct her foolish sister's behavior, making her flames burn brighter and more ruthless, so that she would be worthy of being a "ruler".

But she failed.

Leaving Ahmoni aside, that little beast Mandela probably genuinely didn't take Rafshini seriously. When Abrahana ordered Rafshini to be the "shadow leader," with Mandela and Ahmoni monitoring her, everyone knew what she was up to. Only Mandela—you could say she did it on purpose, but she was undeniably loyal, beyond question! Yet you could also say she didn't, and hey, she actually started monitoring her!

Mandela constantly berated and verbally abused Lavshini, criticizing her for even the smallest mistake and using derogatory terms like "You're not worthy!", "Imposter!", and "Useless" all the time. Despite spending so long in the Deep Pool, Lavshini learned absolutely nothing about leadership or responsibility, and nearly became an autistic orphan due to Mandela's workplace bullying.

Abrahim almost died of anger!