Northern Leithanien Traditions / Intimacy

Oute first said to Kal'tsit, "Don't worry about the villagers. After witnessing the Catastrophe firsthand, they'll start to turn their backs on you completely."

Chapter 289 North Leithanien Tradition

A fierce wind swept up from both ends of the sky, pushing clouds and dust to the front lines. The invisible force thus took on a tangible form, crushing the light and the villagers' last hope along with it.

First came a rain of gravel, followed by huge fragments of Originium, which bombarded the porthole incessantly, the noise so loud it even drowned out the operating noise of Rhodes Island itself!

This scene awakened memories in the villagers' hearts.

Inside the makeshift cabin, they all instinctively fled from the portholes, as if simply seeing that sight would hurt them.

In their panic, they couldn't help but ramble on and on to vent their emotions.

"It's all true!"

"I knew Miss Tsukino was such a kind person!"

"When did you say that? I also said that Bosh was a good lord!"

"Nonsense! You even mispronounced someone's name!"

Looking at the scene on the monitor screen, Vulcan put down the report in his hand and said helplessly, "Doctor, isn't it a bit too petty to change the flight path specifically for this scene?"

Oute rested his chin on his hands, his eyes unwavering. "They'll clean the deck."

Taking a shower on the verge of a Catastrophe won't damage the Rhodes Island mainframe. However, the subsequent cleaning and maintenance will require the Engineering Department to take the lead!

"I have no objection," Vulcan quickly replied.

Oute glanced at the report, which bore the co-signature of Warden Talulah.

After the aerial raid, the surviving remnants of the Witch King's faction were mostly receiving expensive, out-of-pocket medical treatment at the Rhodes Island ship prison.

After their treatment, they will serve their sentences under the command of Rhodes Island's largest and most powerful warden.

Oute removed his seal ring and stamped it. "How is the new process performing?"

"The sealing is better than expected. Although that year was quite unconventional, the idea was very inspiring." Vulcan succinctly stated, "However, after on-site inspection, I believe its performance still cannot compare to that of a proper cannon."

"This is a machine gun used for aerial combat," Oute corrected. "Its primary function is to suppress ground units at high speed."

Vulcan frowned. "However, given the Winter Soldier series' approach of minimizing Originium Arts during the operational phase, the Winter Lieutenant Cannon will likely struggle to inflict sufficient damage on powerful individuals or large groups!"

This is a side dish.

With the expansion of Originium's electronic industry, Rhodes Island is now qualified to seek larger and more powerful weapons.

"The Winter Soldier's idea was to lower the barrier to entry," Oute said. "But the number of combat units a flying vehicle can carry is limited, so a certain degree of elitism is more appropriate."

"You mean, add a few more warlocks?"

Oute nodded then shook his head. "Add a few more sets of more sophisticated weaponry."

Vulcan pondered for a moment, "In that case, Winter Lieutenant Type IV is now ready to be used."

"Remember to inform Talulah... Oh right, she's already left in her flying vehicle, I'll come by myself later." Oute stood up and pushed open the office door.

Flames burst through the door.

The first thing to burst into the room was a slender arm bound by linen "shackles".

The tax collector, still eager to assert his authority, shouted as he descended the stairs, "If you keep arguing, I'll increase the tax..."

Gurgle.

The "Vouivre" before him was deliberately holding up a flame-like spell, silently looking at him.

"Mr. Tax Collector," Talulah said, "Please come with me."

"... What do you want to do?" Faced with such undisguised violence, even a tax collector can regain a sliver of clarity.

"Trial."

"Where are my... where are the guards my lord appointed?" The tax collector took a step back, then began to tremble.

"Those remnants of the previous dynasty with dubious origins have been dealt with," Yatrias said.

"You're nothing but a bunch of Catastrophe Messenger! Even the Contingency Contract has no right to attack Leithanien officials!" He looked around, seemingly expecting divine intervention, but he already sensed his impending doom.

A long, sword-shaped staff was placed against the tax collector's neck.

Greedy, corrupt, and incompetent officials, along with a treacherous, cunning, and cruel minor lord... The scene before her was so similar to everything in the Koschei territory that Talulah couldn't help but recapture some of the rage she felt back then.

"Listen carefully, even before you made connections with the remnants of Herzog's forces, your lord was not qualified to act in the official name of Leithanien."

With a surge of excitement, her sword seemed to tremble slightly.

The tax collector noticed the flaw in "Vouivre's " demeanor and, without a second thought, immediately made a hasty retreat.

Pfft.

As a small reward for awakening Talulah's malice, a longsword, deliberately placed, pierced the tax collector's ankle.

"Ah!!!!"

Three days later.

The sandstorm finally dissipated after sweeping through part of the shipping lanes.

The residents of the three villages no longer cared about the Catastrophe that had nearly destroyed their homes.

They were focused on something both more ethereal and more real.

Revenge.

Or rather, justice.

Next to the secondhand mining platform, villagers gathered around the open space where a cross had been erected.

They stared intently at the black glove on the shelf, holding their breath.

The tax collector was physically healthy, but his spirit was extremely weak.

The trial had been going on for quite some time.

"... August 22, 1095, Greig Village..."

"... August 24, 1095, Puren Town..."

Talulah held aloft the tax collector's private ledger—or rather, his diary—and read aloud his misdeeds one by one. Beside her, the Scavenger held a hatchet, his face grim.

"Sheep, deer, and wolves! What crime has this man committed?!"

There were other races present, but Talulah was calling upon the dominant race of Leithanien. In other words, she was calling out "Leithanien".

Leithanien, what is the crime of this lowly tax collector?

"Death penalty!"

"Kill him!"

"Teach him a lesson!"

The tax collector's twisted eyes lost all their light, leaving only a deep-seated resentment. "If I'm sentenced to death for this, what about that beast Stein (who's like a pig)?!"

"Die!!!"

Soon, the villagers were repeating the word in unison.

"Die!"

"Die!"

"Die!"

The tax collector grinned, overjoyed, and exclaimed, "Excellent! Rhodes Island! Go and kill Stein! Go and kill him yourself!"

Oute rose from the crowd of villagers and gestured for them to be quiet.

Neither the tax collectors nor the officials anticipated what happened—these villagers, both lovable and hateful, stubborn and loyal, ignorant and steadfast...

It actually did gradually quiet down.

"Achoo!" A child quickly covered his mouth.

A mixture of respect and awe focused the villagers' gazes on the robed "sorcerer".

Oute's voice wasn't loud, but they tried their best to listen.

"He should have died a few days after you. But now it's your turn."

From the shadow of the hood came a command that sent chills down the spines of the Leithanien, yet filled them with immense excitement:

"Hamelin, Blood Eagle."

Chapter 290 Intimacy

March 15, 1097, afternoon. Trimounts, capital of Leithanien.

"Lieselotte, have you ever considered this?" The black-haired empress leaned against the railing, her back to her sisters, her taut military uniform outlining her beautiful curves.

"Ever since that September, we have been thinking about that issue constantly." The white queen's long, molten gold-like hair traced the shape of her breasts with her steps.

"They can never be completely wiped out." Hildegard turned around, her black hair disheveled in the breeze. "As long as we're here, there will always be those claiming to be remnants of the Witch King."

"It's not about whether they want to go back to Otto's time or not, it's about whether they want to face us."

After the death of the Witch King Otto, many more people in Leithanien instantly became his Witch King.

Those nobles who had turned their heads and backsides 360 degrees... it's not surprising at all that they suddenly became devotees of the Witch King.

Whoever is on the throne opposes whom!

This opera has been performed in Leithanien for nearly a thousand years.

Those who truly followed the Witch King had long since been slaughtered by the Twin Empresses. Only a few scattered and insignificant remnants remained.

Despite her sister's bluntness, Lieselotte maintained a warm smile on her dignified face, but the words she uttered sent chills down her spine:

"Then keep killing."