“General Jeff, let us go in and see the War God,” the military leaders pleaded.
“Go back, in the name of the supreme commander of St. Sunday at present, go back,” Jeff Reczek ordered, his gaze cold.
With that, they had no choice but to retreat.
When Theresa Lindsay, Reese Daniels, and others returned to the city wall, there was only one person on it – Maclean Lyons, still on guard. Theresa Lindsay, not understanding, asked Maclean Lyons, “General Lyons, is what you said would happen this afternoon this?”
“Yes,” Maclean Lyons nodded.
But Theresa Lindsay shook her head: “But I don’t understand why they are targeting War God so much. We are risking our lives on the front lines, and they are living in luxury in the rear, living in a dream. Despite this, they still criticize us, blame us for our various faults, I don’t understand.”
“Because the danger hasn’t fallen on their heads,” Maclean Lyons said indifferently.
Looking at the map in his hand, Maclean Lyons continued, “The danger hasn’t fallen on their heads, so they don’t know what the front line is like, thinking it’s a game, huh, utterly absurd.”
With a hint of ridicule, Maclean Lyons added, “The Kisia people’s inherent weakness for infighting never ceases. This time, of course, Walton Myers is behind the scenes stoking the flames, but some Kisia people really oppose the War God, feeling that the War God has too much power on the front line. They don’t realize that it’s us on the front line, building human walls with our lives. Without us, they wouldn’t have held on for long.”
“Sometimes, I really want to slay those people with a single sword stroke, but I can’t. I’m a soldier, and I have to defend my country. But soon, I won’t be an officer anymore,” Maclean Lyons shook his head.
The last sentence was a murmur, spoken very softly.
Theresa Lindsay didn’t hear it.
“Alas.”
Theresa Lindsay heaved a sigh, a sigh full of helplessness and melancholy. She had no choice but to return to her post.
Meanwhile, within the grand tent of South Land, Walton Myers occupied the foremost seat. Below him, a member of the Iron Eagles reported to him: “General, our people have already infiltrated Kisia and started spreading rumors. They’re saying that Kisia’s War God, Robin, is a ruthless butcher, one who even kills his own people without blinking an eye. This total butcher has stirred up a mighty storm within Kisia. People are protesting in droves, marching through the capital, and officials have been lodging complaints at the central building.”
“This afternoon, Kisia was in an uproar. Robin was forced to abdicate his position as War God, relinquishing his authority over the nation’s armies to Jeff Reczek. He’s now shut himself away in his room, refusing to see anyone.”
One by one, the Iron Eagles reported the news they had gathered.
This stream of information excited everyone. This was a plan enacted by three parties: the Harding family, who had extensive connections within Kisia, the Temples, who dispatched assassins to threaten Kisia’s officials, and the government of South Land.
South Land had prepared for this plan for ten years. Many key positions within Kisia were held by their people, their planted agents.
So when Robin was accused by thousands, it was mostly their people leading the charge, distorting some facts and influencing public opinion.
People are naturally inclined to follow the crowd. As long as the leaders oppose something, those behind them will follow suit, even if they don’t understand why. They just think, “Others are against it, so why shouldn’t I be?”
Even those who managed to maintain some semblance of rationality were susceptible to distorted facts. For example, they were told that Kisia’s War God was indifferent to the killing of Kisia’s people. Cold. Heartless. They were told he considered Kisia’s people as nothing more than weeds.
Regarding the news of St. Sunday being besieged, it was suppressed. Even if someone tried to leak the news, within an hour, they’d disappear. No one dared to leak information afterward, and no one knew the truth.
All they knew was that Kisia’s War God was no longer the protector of Kisia. He was a butcher, an executioner.
In just one day, the reputation of Kisia’s War God reeked. He was like a rat crossing the street – everyone wanted to hit him.
Kisia was now full of holes, full of cracks. After all, South Land had plotted for ten years. Even if Robin had a sliver of a chance, could one man alone eradicate their ten years of infiltration? South Land didn’t think this War God could do it alone.
“This is due to General Myers’ brilliant strategy.”
“Yes, if not for General Myers, how could we have devised such a plan?”
“Brilliant, truly brilliant.”
The leaders and strategists all praised him.
But it wasn’t just flattery; most of them were genuinely impressed. Ever since General Myers had orchestrated an ambush that decimated half of the hundred-thousand Ghost Wolf Iron Cavalry, he had once again pulled off a major feat with a simple trick. It was awe-inspiring.
He was truly South Land’s top general.
“It’s just a dirty trick, nothing more to say about it,” Walton Myers waved his hand dismissively.
In truth, he didn’t want to resort to such tactics. He was trained in the art of war, not in plotting and scheming. But for the victory of South Land, he had to use any means necessary to win.
Even if the means were despicable.
Even if his name would stink for a thousand years.
This battle had to be won, no matter what.
But even if his name would stink for a thousand years, so what? He was not alone in this. Robin, too, would have his name tarnished. The highest generals of two nations were using the dirtiest methods. One was slaughtering the innocent, the other was turning a blind eye to the slaughter.
According to people on the street, neither of them were any good.
“General Myers, now that Robin is done for, should we launch a full-scale attack and take over all of St. Sunday?” Benson Laydon stepped forward to ask.
“No.”
Walton Myers shook his head: “Robin, though he is no longer the God of War, he is still the God of War. No one can take his place. Moreover, Jeff Reczek is his guard. Jeff Reczek as the supreme commander is no different from him as the supreme commander; the soldiers will still follow him. Also, there is a force out there, wandering around, which we have not identified yet.”
From the last battle, there was an issue left unresolved. In South Province, there was still one of Robin’s forces. However, they haven’t found them yet.
“The Iron Eagles have failed in their duties. Please punish us, General Myers.”
One of the Iron Eagles knelt halfway down.
General Myers shook his head: “Just keep looking. That wandering force is our biggest concern. Until we eliminate this force, we can never truly launch a full-scale attack.”
“Yes.”
The many generals respected the order.
At this moment, the entire South Land army, whether officers or soldiers, began to regain confidence, simply because Robin was no longer the God of War of Kisia. They no longer had to face that butcher.
Some even laughed in their beds.
A huge rock that had been pressing on the heart of the South Land army fell.