The Empire's Afternoon

Inside the Istaria City, banners fluttered and crowds thronged.

Tens of thousands of imperial citizens gathered here, crowding both sides of the wide road, waving banners and flags, and cheering in waves to welcome the return of the imperial army.

"For the Empire! For His Your Majesty Keosius!"

"Welcome home, heroes of the National Defense War!"

"Under His Your Majesty Keosius's wise leadership, the Empire has once again achieved a great victory!"

"A warm welcome to the return of all the heroes of the Empire!"

In this enthusiastic atmosphere, the imperial soldiers marched in neat rows, heads held high, into the city, their standard leather boots striking the ground with a rhythmic and resounding sound.

One after another, Steam Tank slowly drove in, their engines running at low intensity, emitting a dull rumble.

They were all "heroes" who had experienced the National Defense War, killing countless demons on the battlefield. Even their tracks were stained with purplish-black blood, becoming bloodstained.

"Keosius above"

"It's Steam Tank! This is our empire's trump card!"

"What kind of monster could possibly damage these imperial treasures?!"

"Look, that's the Emperor's Wrath! It's said to have killed tens of thousands of demons on the battlefield!"

At this moment, the "Emperor's Wrath" was not only covered in wounds, but also had a shocking scratch several meters long on its left armor.

However, this is not just simple damage; it also highlights the remarkable achievements of this Steam Tank in fighting against large monsters such as the Demon Hunter Spider and the Slaughter Devil.

A Dragon Vein Goblin wearing the "National Defense Hero" medal leaned out of the tank, waving excitedly at the crowd and shouting, "Long Live the Empire!"

"Long live His Your Majesty Keosius!"

The onlookers paid no attention to the "hero's" Goblin race and responded enthusiastically, raising their arms and shouting "Long Live the Empire!"

This Dragon Vein Goblin named Bill was also featured in the Empire Daily for his feat of killing several Demon Hunter Spider.

He was given honorary titles such as "Loyal Imperial Tank Commander" and "Three-Foot Giant," and was regarded as a hero and role model by many weak and despised races such as Goblin and Kobold.

"Buzz—"

White smoke billowed from the whistle, sounding like a steel behemoth roaring, and the impressive procession amazed the onlookers.

"This is the Empire's Steam Tank legion!"

"How impressive!"

"Even Goblin can become battlefield heroes, I want to drive a tank too!"

Among the infantry, George, dressed in standard Imperial Army uniform and adorned with several medals, stood at the front, gazing at the jubilant crowd with a complex mix of emotions.

He could feel his hot, dragon-blooded heart pounding in his chest.

"Another glorious victory, just like always."

No matter what kind of enemy we face, Your Majesty always leads us to victory—even if the enemy is a god-like being.

On that brutal battlefield, George relied on the Red Dragon's blessing to hold out against several Bazout demons until reinforcements arrived.

A few days ago, George also witnessed the earth-shattering battle, which turned the entire Anstika into ruins, and the Abyssal Dragon, which was like a god, crashed down at the emperor's feet.

"Keosius above"

George quietly raised his head and gazed at the towering Istaria Great Altar in the distance, where the majestic figure of the Red Dragon seemed to reappear in his eyes.

The triumphant procession continued to enter the city. The Empire's Ogre heavy artillery legions, Hobgoblin infantry legions, Red Scale Conqueror, and Dragon Oath Paladin— warbands that had played a role in resisting the Demon Invasion —appeared one after another before the people, demonstrating the Empire's formidable military strength and inspiring a sense of pride and belonging in them.

"Long Live the Empire!"

"Long live His Your Majesty Keosius!"

Such cheers rose and fell, filling the Istaria City almost the entire day.

Even after dark, under the dim streetlights and in the flickering tavern, drunkards still swayed and raised their bottles, chanting slogans.

The post-war Embers of the Burned Empire was always the most lively and wonderful, with celebrations lasting for days in the squares of cities across the land.

When the soldiers returned in triumph, they needed alcohol and tobacco to forget the pain of war, and they also needed to vent their long-suppressed emotions and flaunt their rich spoils of war.

Therefore, soldiers who return victorious are often the most extravagant, especially those who have just come from the front lines where they have faced life and death; they can be described as spending money like water.

It is precisely because they have seen this that the astute imperial merchants often hang banners at the entrance of their shops with slogans such as "Military personnel first," "Welcome back heroes," and "Imperial soldiers enjoy preferential treatment."

They would also display a wide variety of "special offer" goods for soldiers to consume at exorbitant prices, allowing these vendors to make a fortune in just a few days.

Those players venturing into the commercial sector have come up with unscrupulous marketing tactics, using various methods to ride the wave of popularity, often gaining an advantage in the market and earning countless Ginar.

There were even establishments offering special services that advertised themselves as "rewarding imperial heroes" or "sacrificing themselves for the heroes of the National Defense War," which was both laughable and absurd.

Meanwhile, the war also brought a large number of orders to the empire's various military factories. The workers worked day and night and received generous bonuses—they were both in pain and happy.

The victory in the war brought unimaginable benefits, which revitalized the empire's economy and made the lives of the empire's people extremely lively.

After experiencing numerous suicide attacks by demons, people's disgust and hatred towards the Abyss have reached their peak, almost to the point of being united in hatred against a common enemy.

This war gave the people of the empire a great sense of relief, making them cheer repeatedly.

Tens of millions of Abyssal Devil perished under the Empire's intense artillery fire, and even the Abyssal Dragon, as majestic as mountains, were slain by the Your Majesty Keosius.

Mentioning that glorious victory, every citizen of the empire would proudly puff out their chest, feeling a surge of pride and excitement from the bottom of their hearts.

The imperial army had returned in triumph for three days, but the celebrations continued all night, with the rousing and passionate Keosius Anthem echoing in the Emperor Square.

"How can we forget this kindness? Your Majesty has allowed mountain springs to flow down to the plains and timely rains to nourish every place."

In addition, groups of excited "Conquest Party" marched in procession, singing vulgar songs about conquering the South.

Humans, Hobgoblin, Ogre, Tiefling, and other soldiers returning from the battlefield crowded into the square. Ignoring racial barriers, they raised their glasses and drank in celebration.

"Come! To the Empire, cheers!"

"Cheers to victory!"

"Come on, drink more! You've barely escaped death, so you have to let loose!"

The Ogre roared at the top of his lungs, "Boss, bring two more barrels of liquor, yes, the biggest kind of wooden barrels, I want to down them in one go!"

"Which defense zone are you in charge of? I'm in the Third Defense Zone. The fighting over there is incredibly fierce; I crawled out of piles of corpses."

"This is no coincidence; I'm an artilleryman in the Third Defense Zone."

"Haha, what a coincidence! Maybe the shell that saved me was fired by you!"

Amidst this lively atmosphere, George and Grace, two unremarkable humans, stepped into the tavern.

The waiter at the door was initially somewhat indifferent, but when he saw the "Hero Medal" on George's chest and the medal representing the identity of the Dragon Blood Baron, his eyes lit up and he immediately came to greet him warmly.

Within the empire, such military nobles held the most prestigious positions, and were welcomed by taverns and shops alike—because they were often the most extravagant spenders, sometimes exchanging dozens of Ginar.

The waiter, his face flushed, gestured for the two men to enter, his face plastered with a fawning smile, "Please come in, gentlemen! I will take you to the VIP section."

George was clearly used to this treatment and said casually, "No need, we can just find a spot."

The waiter nodded repeatedly. "Okay, whatever you say. If you two need anything, just let me know."

George and Grace found a slightly quieter spot to sit down and ordered a few bottles of fine spirits.

—This includes the recently popular "Song of Triumph," which costs as much as three Ginar per bottle.

The waiter soon brought over several elegantly packaged bottles of wine, gently swirled them, and poured them into the two people's glasses.

It is said that the "Song of Triumph" wine was specially brewed by a master brewer among the Starfallers for the returning soldiers.

It allows people to experience the thrill of killing enemies on the battlefield, filling their minds with the joy and excitement of victory; however, in return, it is extremely expensive.

This one bottle of wine alone would cost an ordinary worker several months' wages.

Having experienced the hardships of serfdom, George was not a person who enjoyed luxury, but in this exciting moment of triumphant return, he still chose to treat himself.

"Heh, Grace. I've said it before: as long as His Your Majesty Keosius remains in that supreme position, the Empire will surely triumph. And your worries are completely unnecessary."

George gazed at the lively scene outside the window and downed his glass of wine in one gulp.

The warm current infused with magical power surged within me, indeed giving me the thrill and exhilaration of fighting on the battlefield.

"Yes, the empire will ultimately prevail."

Grace shook her head and chuckled, "It was incredibly foolish of me to have doubted His Majesty's power before."

He took just one sip of the strong liquor in his glass, and his face immediately flushed red, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes gleamed with excitement.

George nodded slightly and said seriously, "However, the strength of those demons is indeed not to be underestimated, and they are worlds apart from those trash in the the North."

According to those above, this war resulted in hundreds of thousands of deaths and injuries.

Grace grinned and laughed heartily, "No matter what, we survived this war, didn't we?"

He stood up drunkenly, raised his glass to George and the soldiers nearby. "To victory! To our survival!"

A smile spread across George's face. He poured himself a full glass of wine, raised it, and whispered, "To victory."

Then, he raised his head and downed the glass of strong liquor in one gulp, but George remained calm and showed no signs of drunkenness.

"Bang!"

Grace, who was unsteady on her feet, collapsed onto the table, drenched in sweat. She had only drunk one glass and was already exhausted.

It is said that this "Song of Triumph" contains bone powder from the Flame Wyvern, which has an extremely powerful effect, allowing flames to surge within its belly. Even Dragon Vein Creature would find it difficult to withstand two cups of it.

Grace, slumped over the table, barely managed to lift her head to look at George, her eyes filled with envy. "George, you really stole the show this time!"

He propped himself up on his arms, looked George up and down, and continued, "Your dragon blood concentration should be around five percent, right?"

Grace pointed to George's hand holding the wine glass, where faint reddish scales could be seen on the back of his hand.

"Almost."

George nodded again, then took a sip of the strong liquor in his glass.

Grace exclaimed, "Tsk tsk, leading a ragtag army to hold the line alone against the most elite heavy infantry of the Abyss —dozens of Bazuite Devil —and even killing a few of them, no wonder he received the Empire's Hero Medal."

"Just lucky."

George looked down at the back of his hand, which was covered in scales, and replied, "If I hadn't awakened my dragon vein along the way, I probably would have perished there long ago."

"Hahaha, as Prime Minister Lang Pu said, luck is also a part of strength. If it weren't for that reckless mage apprentice, that lord might just be an ordinary Ogre now."

Grace was clearly very drunk, and she laughed as she recounted the secret that was circulating throughout the empire.

George was shocked and quickly gestured for him to shut up, after all, the Prime Minister's grudge-holding was well-known throughout the country, and Grace nodded in understanding.

"However, I don't envy you."

Grace leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling carved with dragon claw patterns, her eyes somewhat dazed.

"Life is indeed much better now than before. When I was a peasant under the Northern Nobles, I never thought about gold, silver and jewels, fine wine and delicacies."

But I was really scared.

Grace's voice trembled, his whole body shook, and fear showed on his face. He pointed to his heart and pounded it a few times.

"You know what, George, it was so close that the demon's claws would have pierced my chest and gone through my heart."

My most trusted subordinate stood in front of me, taking the death for me, and I could only watch helplessly as he died.

George frowned slightly. "You mean..."

Grace lowered her eyes and said with a wry smile, "Although I enjoy the feeling of victory, I no longer want to participate in wars."

I'm constantly worried—worried about losing everything I have, worried that all the wealth and glory I have will vanish like a bubble.

He looked at George again. "George, you should know that the Empire's next target is the south, the vast Feanso Continent."

But I'm tired of this precarious life. I want to stay in Anzeta. It's said that His Majesty will grant us the power to protect this place and ensure the safety of the empire's homeland.

So what about you? What's your choice?

George barely hesitated; he instinctively looked south, his gaze intense.

"The South, I want to go to the South, to win land under the sun for the Empire, and to stand on the real mountaintop."

Even after drinking quite a bit of strong liquor, George's tone remained exceptionally firm and resolute.

"I knew it! You're still the same, Baron George."

Haha, I hope I can see you live to become an Imperial Duke. When that happens, I will look up at your statue and bow in reverence.

Grace, as if he had expected this, raised his glass again and said softly, "To the Empire."

"To the Empire."

George raised his hand to clink glasses, downing the remaining spirits in one gulp. A faint light appeared in his golden eyes, like surging dragon flames igniting.

Around them, soldiers from various races, including Ogre, Hobgoblin, Tiefling, Lizardmen, raised their glasses, chanting "To the Empire!"

Even Bill, the Dragon Vein Goblin who was also a "National Defense Hero," spoke in a shrill voice.