Lance Charge on the Ark, but No Mount

Six hours later, the massive land battleship let out a loud warning sound and began to move. The enormous mobile city would need a day or two of warming up before it could keep up.

Claude sat in his chair with his legs propped up on the desk, seemingly waiting for something.

The two Iron Guards who had been left behind stood before the office door, dutifully standing guard like statues, perfectly still.

Talulah sat across from Claude, looking somewhat anxious as though she were also waiting for something. Her long boots restlessly tapped against the floor, and every now and then, she raised her head to glance at Claude.

"Don't be so anxious, Talulah. What is meant to happen will happen. Worrying won't do any good." A faint smile hung on Claude's lips, and he looked utterly relaxed.

"No, I don't think so. Your assumption has no basis, Claude. They would never do something like that when we possess such overwhelming strength." Talulah was anxious, but she still firmly voiced her thoughts.

"Don't rush. Just wait patiently. Once the sun sets today, we'll know the answer." Claude lightly tapped the armrest with his fingers.

Night had completely shrouded the sky when Claude's terminal suddenly vibrated.

Talulah and Claude both rose to their feet and opened their terminals. There was a message inside.

"At 18:42, someone attempted to send the movements of our battleship to the Ursus army group. I have subdued them. What should I do next?"

Looking at the name displayed on the terminal—Subordinate No. 1—Talulah fell completely silent.

Claude, however, smiled. There was a blade-like chill in that smile, and his eyes held an authority no one dared meet.

"Looks like I won. And... what a pity."

The Rising Reunion Movement: The Traitor

The next morning, as they approached the abandoned mobile city, the battleship returned once more. Its massive black hull docked with the city's exit again.

Mornings in Ursus were unimaginably cold. Breathing here felt as though it would freeze one's nasal passages. But to these Infected, colder than the morning air were the massive warriors' battleaxes. The gleaming axe blades were so cold that a hand pressed against them would stick to the frozen steel. And now, those snow-bright weapons were stained with frozen blood.

It was a warning. Someone had attempted to flee before the battleship arrived, and the heavily armored warriors had killed them without hesitation, chopping off their heads. It was a more effective warning than any words, leaving them too frightened to entertain any other thoughts. They could only obediently remain in the square and wait for their fate.

Since they had stopped thinking about fleeing or resisting, the warriors did not mistreat them. Instead, they gave them food and hot water so they would not freeze or starve to death. Most of them had no idea what was happening. Why had allies who had been on the same ship with them yesterday become so ferocious today?

Their hearts were filled with doubt and fear. Huddled around several braziers, they quietly discussed their circumstances, but no one could explain what was going on. Their greatest fear now was that these people would execute them just like the Ursus military did. They had seen that happen often enough.

Only when the enormous battleship returned did all of them focus their attention on it, because they knew the person who could determine their fate had arrived.

Every Iron Guard stood perfectly straight, their armor covered in frost in the winter morning. Only the white vapor drifting from the gaps in their helmets showed that they were living people rather than machines forged from steel. Then, amid the suffocating silence, a set of footsteps rang out clearly. Their pace was neither fast nor slow, yet every step carried an undeniable presence.

The footsteps continued, each one striking their hearts like a heavy hammer. Their heartbeats grew faster, and even breathing became difficult. Everyone stared unblinkingly at the mist-covered road.

The first thing to emerge from the mist was an iron boot, composed of layers of precisely constructed plates. It provided excellent protection while preserving a certain degree of mobility. Then came a figure draped in a heavy cloak, his helmet's upturned wings instantly recognizable. His body stood as straight as a poplar tree, and every step he took was precise enough to measure with a ruler.

The tall figure stopped before them, and everyone unconsciously stood up. Then, beneath that gaze which seemed able to pierce through their helmets, they all lowered their heads.

The Iron Guards saluted their general, and Claude waved a hand.

"All right, time is limited. Bring that gentleman out."

A brawny Iron Guard acknowledged the order and left. His name was Char, Aisen's deputy.

Very soon, the leader who had met Claude yesterday was carried out by Char like a chicken and thrown to the ground. The hard earth knocked the breath from him, and he could not get back up for a long while.

Claude walked over to a chunk of concrete covered in snow, brushed the snow aside with his hand, then sat down on it through his cloak.

"I assume you all know this man."

As Claude's words fell, the imprisoned Infected could not help discussing among themselves. They pointed at their leader sprawled on the ground.

"And last night, he attempted to reveal our whereabouts to an Ursus army group."

It was as though someone had pressed a mute button. Everyone shut their mouths. Some Infected even began trembling in fear.

"There's no need to be afraid. You are all innocent, and I will not do anything to you."

"But some people must pay the price they deserve."

As his words fell, another three people were dragged out and made to stand beside their leader.

"There is no need for me to elaborate on your crimes. I hereby sentence you to death."

Knowing what awaited them, the few people immediately began shrieking and begging for mercy. Their cries made the other Infected feel as though they were sitting on pins and needles, every hair standing on end.

Claude's emotionless voice rang out.

"I will not spare you. Sparing you would be an insult to my soldiers, an insult to all of us."

Claude made a slight gesture. Char drew his battleaxe and cleanly chopped off their heads one by one. Blood gushed from the neck stumps, flowing across the ground before freezing into crimson ice within a minute or two. The heat radiating from the fresh blood formed a cloud of mist in the air.

The bodies at his feet were still twitching as Claude turned to the uneasy Infected.

"You have two choices now. One is to remain on the mobile city. Once we drive this city back to camp, you may leave with your share of supplies."

Claude paused briefly before continuing.

"The other is to join us. From now on, you will no longer suffer hunger and cold, nor will you have to fear Ursus patrols destroying your families."

"All right, make your choice. Anyone willing to join us may come find us aboard the ship at any time. We will remain here until tomorrow morning."

After saying this, the Iron Guards stepped aside one after another, no longer keeping them imprisoned here.

The Infected still did not dare move without permission. Only five minutes later did one person cautiously walk past the Iron Guards without being attacked. Then everyone scattered at once.

Claude rose and waved his hand. Leaving behind only a squad of combat personnel and the necessary staff to operate the mobile city, everyone else returned to the battleship.

The moment he stepped onto the deck, Claude saw Talulah. She had been waiting for him there the whole time. Seeing the complicated expression on her face, Claude smiled and gestured for her to follow him.

This was the wager between him and Talulah. If he won, Talulah could not offer any opinion on how those people were dealt with. That was why he had handled the traitors alone just now.

They entered the command room, where the battleship's heating kept it warm as spring all year round. The two naturally took the only two seats.

"Are you still confused, Talulah?"

The Draco girl bit her lower lip.

"Yes, Claude. I'm still confused. Why would they do something like that?"

"Because that is human nature. Human nature cannot withstand testing. Sometimes, the slightest temptation can drive a person to commit a great crime. Especially when supplies are scarce, many people turn into nothing more than beasts. What we must do is feed them while regulating their behavior and punishing those who commit evil. Only then can more people become good people. Only then can kind people live better lives. So there is no need to worry about this, Talulah."

A glass of amber liquor was pushed before Talulah.

"You know how to drink, right? One sip should help you relax."

Talulah reached for the glass. On the snowfields, they rarely had the chance to drink alcohol. Here, liquor was a precious resource. Talulah had barely ever drunk before.

The icy liquid rushed down her throat in one gulp. Instead of any harsh taste, there was a sweet fragrance. Talulah was about to say something when a ball of fire surged up from her stomach, making her cough involuntarily. Before long, she felt dizzy. Her body grew hot, even the tips of her ears burning. Not long after, she drowsily collapsed onto the table and fell asleep.

"Why did you drink it so fast? That's strong liquor."

Claude stood, removed his cloak, and draped it over Talulah. There was still much work to do. Let her rest properly for a while.

"How many came in total?"

Hearing Claude's question, Char replied.

"From yesterday to today, a total of 132 people came. There are still 23 we have not seen."

Claude pursed his lips. People were practical. Yesterday, they had fled in fear, but after calming down, they could all weigh the pros and cons. So he was not surprised by the Infected's choice.

"Wait a little longer, then the battleship and mobile city will depart together."

When the battleship returned to camp, it received an enthusiastic welcome, especially the enormous mobile city following behind it. Though it looked battered and worn, it was the first time many people had seen a mobile city. Many ran aboard to look around and were reluctant to come back down.

"You did well. That is how traitors should be dealt with."

After hearing Claude's account, Boccas greatly approved of his actions. He even felt Claude had not gone far enough. In his view, all the remaining Infected should have been dealt with to eliminate future trouble, because they could no longer be trusted.

Patriot's throat was somewhat hoarse due to Oripathy. But with Rhodes Island's medical support, his condition had not worsened further, and he could still speak fluently.

But in Claude's view, Patriot's solution came only from the perspective of a soldier. As a leader, he had to consider the harmful consequences that executing them would cause.

Looking at the enormous mobile city, Rhodes Island's engineers had carefully inspected it and found that its Originium engine was nearly scrapped. It could even be said that getting the huge thing here had been a miracle.

That was right. Rhodes Island's engineering team had not yet returned. Claude did not know what had delayed them here for several days, but it worked out perfectly—he could ask them to carry out a degree of repair on the Originium engine.

The cost of this repair, added to the previous one, completely drained all of the Reunion Movement's spare funds.

Claude looked at the glaring red figures in the ledger Alina had organized and fell into thought... They were out of money again.

The Rising Reunion Movement: Reunion After a Long Separation

Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, it was 1096. The students studying at Rhodes Island had completed their education and were ready to return. The patients receiving treatment there had also stabilized, with no further risk of deterioration. After some thought, Claude decided to pick them up himself. There were now few matters requiring his personal decisions, and the Reunion Movement had entered a stable period of development.

The hundred sets of mining equipment ordered from Rhodes Island had arrived. The equipment was exceptionally well-made, providing users with comprehensive protection while greatly improving mining efficiency. Naturally, the price was equally exceptional. With them, mines of all sizes across the snowfields finally began operating, and Originium was continuously excavated and processed. As for sales, qualified Originium products never lacked buyers. Many merchants in neighboring Kazimierz were interested. As long as the goods could cross the border, they would buy as much as the Reunion Movement could supply.

Workers who mined Originium ore received the best treatment in the Reunion Movement. Not only did they earn the highest wages, but they also received the most leave. This was Claude's compensation for their dangerous work.

With that, the Reunion Movement had gained a stable source of income. They no longer had to rely on money seized in the past to keep the organization running. And with money, they could continuously purchase fine weapons and armor from Kazimierz. After all, in this world of mobile cities, there were no clearly defined borders. Boundaries were generally determined by a mobile city's range of movement, making them vague and difficult to establish. That gave the Reunion Movement room to operate.

Claude had also established a strict training system and military code for the army. Many trivial matters no longer required his attention; his subordinates could handle them on their own. Overall, the Reunion Movement was currently in a period of rapid development. Under a fair and reasonable system, Claude rarely had matters to deal with, which was why he could spare the time.

Early in the morning, Claude woke up quickly, folded his bedding, and got dressed. He slipped his feet into black knee-high boots, pulled up the side zippers, and fastened the Velcro straps.

After washing up, he put on his armor. He adjusted the armor's belts to maintain the right tightness. Finally, he donned his heavy cloak. This had been Claude's usual attire over the years, and it had barely changed.

He reached out, grabbed the helmet resting on the table, and hung it from the iron hook at his waist. All the necessary luggage had been packed yesterday. Today, they only needed to set out.

When he entered the dining hall, people constantly greeted Claude. The soldiers respectfully saluted him, and he nodded in reply to each of them. Carrying his bowl to the serving window, he handed it over to the plump Ursus cook, who shoveled meat into it with a ladle until it could hold no more and nearly overflowed.

Holding a bowl of radish stew that was basically all meat and no radish, he sat by a window. But he did not begin eating right away, instead waiting briefly. Just as he had expected, Centaurea's slender figure came over to him.

"Anyone who didn't know better would think breakfast was nothing but meat today, General."

Centaurea teasingly raised an eyebrow and placed her own bowl on the table. Her bowl had extra broth and a piece of bread.

"I am honored by everyone's affection. It is a commander's glory." Claude picked up his spoon, scooped up a steaming chunk of stew meat, and began chewing.

"Are you ready? We need to make this trip quick."

Even with stew meat in his mouth, Claude's words came out perfectly clear. No one knew how he managed it.

"I'm ready. I'm practically used to running all over the place with you by now."

Centaurea soaked the dry bread in the meat broth, then mashed it apart. She liked eating it this way. It always reminded Claude of soaked flatbread in mutton soup.

"Speaking of which, we can finally be considered well-established. Since those crops were harvested, food is no longer particularly scarce. After expanding the army, we now have nearly ten thousand troops. Many are untrained recruits, but perhaps by the time we return, they'll have become qualified warriors."

Claude talked as he ate, and speaking did not slow down his eating in the slightest. His words remained quick and clear.

"We've been lucky, I suppose. Ursus's Fourth Army Group has not attacked us. Perhaps they think traveling so far to deal with us isn't worth it. But I doubt this situation will last much longer. I still want us to have a proper mobile city. Even if we are defeated then, we will be able to relocate everyone."

After eating and drinking their fill, they boarded a brand-new armored off-road vehicle specially equipped for personnel going on field assignments. It not only possessed a more powerful Originium engine, but also heavy armor. Its wide tires ensured it could travel smoothly over all kinds of terrain. It also had ample interior space for all kinds of cargo.

The land battleship was too conspicuous, especially since it was an Ursus land battleship. Crossing the border so openly might cause an international dispute, so they would take this vehicle instead. Its spacious interior could bring everyone back.

They loaded their weapons and other luggage into the trunk, which was large enough for a person to lie down and sleep in. Nylon straps secured the luggage as well, preventing damage from the bumps.

Since this was only a quick outing, Claude stopped the others from seeing them off. He climbed into the driver's seat and felt the comfortable touch of genuine leather. The vehicle was also equipped with a high-powered radio on the dashboard, allowing it to handle all kinds of emergencies.

He slowly turned the energy valve, and the powerful engine let out a hum. Once his companion was seated, Claude started the vehicle and drove out of camp.

Rhodes Island's financial situation was worsening by the day. Even Yelena knew that. Although they had reached a partnership with the Reunion Movement and earned a considerable amount of money from them, Rhodes Island as a whole still suffered certain losses every year, and the organization's development was less than ideal.

After treatment at Rhodes Island, her Oripathy had been effectively suppressed. After she strongly insisted, Claude and the doctors here finally agreed to let her return. If she stayed any longer, she feared she would truly turn from a warrior into a patient. Though she had made many friends on Rhodes Island, she still missed Patriot, Claude, and the others in the Reunion Movement.

She had met a very cute and interesting child here. Once, she gave her candy. It was clearly something so spicy, yet after eating it, the child actually told her—

"Not bad. (°`°〃)"

And she had even wanted another one. The child also knew Claude. According to her, Claude had been the one to send her to Rhodes Island for treatment. That man always acted like some hopeless do-gooder, sticking his nose into whatever he came across. Otherwise, he would not have joined the Reunion Movement in the first place.

In a few days, the vehicle coming to pick them up would arrive. At the thought, even the strong-hearted Cautus girl could not help feeling anticipation.

The Rising Reunion Movement: Arriving at Rhodes Island

The wind rushing through the windows brought tremendous noise, forcing those inside to raise their voices if they wanted to be heard. With the accelerator pressed to the floor, the heavy armored vehicle charged forward across the open wasteland, kicking up enormous clouds of dust and leaving a clear trail behind it.

But thanks to their speed, none of that dust could reach their mouths. Only the dry, scorching air continuously slapped against their faces, trying to steal every drop of moisture. The moment sweat flowed down, it was immediately blown dry. There was not a cloud in the sky, and only the enormous sun asserted its presence.

Centaurea's neatly trimmed white bangs had clumped together from the sweat seeping from her forehead. The white-haired girl lay listlessly across the passenger-side dashboard. The armored vehicle's special glass blocked out the blazing sunlight, but the temperature inside remained high.