In the chaos that was destined to consume the apocalypse, declaring peace did not mean one could truly stay far from war.
When you existed here, when you were prosperous and valuable, when you were powerful enough to pose a threat, war was bound to find you. And if you were so weak as to be worthless, your life and death would not even make it onto the table.
"A glorious victory. Our name has spread far and wide."
"The territories of the surrounding Eight Gods have now been incorporated into our domain. Should we send people to take them over?"
"The Flame Legion is powerful, but most Orcs are still hesitant about this form of evolution. Because of its resurrection-after-death trait, most Orcs would rather regard it as a backup option—something to consider only when they were about to die in battle."
"Unruly rabble. Ahem, the Orc residents think the food and drink at the victory banquet were not up to standard, and they're causing trouble."
"Report! Little Flame and Zhu Zhu are fighting again. The younger sister was beaten into running away from home. Little Flame was beaten by Mistress Chris, and she's crying."
Whenever Lu PingAn was about to get some proper work done, the various work reports delivered to him would grow increasingly absurd.
At his level, family matters and official matters were often inseparable.
Some documents and reports only needed a glance. The truth beneath them could not be explained by all that superficial mess.
For example, these chaotic matters seemed to concern trivial affairs and postwar follow-up, but in the end, they were all about the coming "division of the family."
"Let Zhu Zhu build a nest outside. The Spider Orcs' power system is complete. It would be a waste to keep them penned