Fiscal Collapse

Altai City.

The brutal war had finally ended.

Corpses lay everywhere atop the towering, massive city walls. Blood had gathered into crimson streams that trickled down along the edges of the walls, a horrifying, chilling sight.

On the walls, the humans and Minotaurs who had just fought desperately to the death were now strangely at peace, each side collecting the bodies of its own people.

Yet beneath every human soldier's helmet, their eyes faintly glowed red, and hateful gazes occasionally fell upon the Minotaurs.

At the center of Altai City stood a high-rise bearing the six words Storm Legion Headquarters. On its top floor was a conference room whose walls were covered in weapons, with an enormous sand table set beside them.

Gustav, his face slightly pale, sat in the center. His eyes were filled with complicated emotions—indescribable excitement, but also bone-deep hatred.

Bang!

A sudden crash erupted, interrupting everyone's thoughts in the conference room.

A man with a ramrod-straight figure rose angrily to his feet. He had a head full of brown hair, and his sharply chiseled face made him look exceptionally tough.

But once he stood up, everyone saw that his left leg was gone. Large bloodstains still remained along the edge of his armor.

"Legion Commander, I refuse to accept it. I will not accept the Mountain-Shaking Legion's surrender. They must pay for what they did. They must use their lives to honor the lives of our brothers."

The moment the tough man spoke, the atmosphere in the conference room abruptly changed, becoming exceptionally heavy.

Gustav, seated at the head of the table, frowned and rebuked him angrily.

"Aubrey, remember your position. What right do you have to disagree?"

"Legion Commander, I just don't agree. The brothers under my command... over ten thousand... brothers..."

At that point,