Chapter 195 Do you think you're playing house?
Asumo tried to recall the events, but could only remember that it was that person who handed him the Secret Stone and tried to persuade him by claiming it was to save Pejite.
But what that person looked like, what his name was, and when he became his confidant were all like ink stains soaked in water, becoming more and more blurred the harder he tried to recall.
Although this matter is strange, it can only be temporarily shelved because there is no way to investigate it.
As for the Giant God Warrior, it is also a major problem that cannot be dealt with for the time being. It is still growing slowly and will eventually awaken completely.
Mu En could only send Blessed Warrior to take turns guarding it and observing its development progress, and then conduct research on it at a later time.
Now, he still has many important things to deal with, such as dealing with his various "allies".
It's time to teach those who can't see the bigger picture a lesson.
The next day arrived.
Cleanup and rescue efforts are in full swing in City of Pejite.
The prisoners were put to good use; there were over six thousand of them, a highly skilled workforce consisting of a small number of Dorok and a large number of private soldiers from the merchant guild.
--
They were responsible for doing the heaviest and most tiring work, atoning for their invasion and betrayal with their sweat.
Although prisoners were available, the soldiers of the allied forces did not slacken their efforts; they also joined the ranks of clearing the ruins, extinguishing the remaining fires, and building temporary refugee camps.
These soldiers knew very well what had allowed them to survive.
Without Nausicaä capturing the warship, without the Blessed Warrior charging under machine gun and artillery fire, and without the Valley of the Wind people directing and coordinating from behind, this ragtag army from more than a dozen city-states wouldn't even qualify as cannon fodder.
Therefore, they worked exceptionally hard, doing everything they could—disaster relief, firefighting, moving corpses, and comforting refugees.
However, some people clearly didn't understand things as well as their soldiers.
Inside the Endure Battleship, in the luxurious conference room that the Dorok Master once used to ambush Nausicaä, a real " Conference of Nations " was taking place.
The long table was covered with a deep red velvet cloth, and the walls were adorned with valuable oil paintings from bygone eras. A crystal chandelier illuminated the entire space.
Those attending the meeting were no longer the permanent representatives of the Conference of Nations.
This time, those who came were no longer the conference delegates, but the people who could truly make decisions in each city-state—the king, the grand duke, the speaker, and the regent.
They were dressed in finery, with attendants and staff standing behind them, each wearing a polite smile.
King Asumo of Pejite sat at the head of the long table without uttering a word; while Nausicaä, who had contributed the most to the battle, naturally took the seat of honor.
Asbel stood behind his father, the young prince staring blankly, occasionally stealing glances at Nausicaä's retreating figure, clearly still reeling from the father-son conversation of the previous night.
Asumo told him a lot, but the most important point was that it was solely up to Nausicaä and the being behind her.
Haideng, standing beside Asumo, was arguing forcefully on behalf of the king.
"---- Pejite has indeed suffered heavy losses, but we are capable of rebuilding our homes on our own, without needing any aid with strings attached!"
Across from him, a middle-aged man wearing a silver headdress chuckled softly. He looked around, his tone filled with a condescending pity.
" Haideng, are you joking? When I entered the city, all I saw were ruins. There weren't even a few hundred regular soldiers to maintain order."
" Pejite needs help, and as allies, we are certainly willing to provide it. For example, how about we, Pakashe, fund the reconstruction of your Southern Arsenal? After completion, we'll split the profits 30/70, and within three years, 70% of the production capacity will belong to us. This is a very favorable price."
Another elderly woman in elegant attire immediately retorted, "Discounts? Bah! The Southern District is a weapons factory, not an oil refining equipment plant. Your appetites are far too great! In my opinion, it should be Valley of Sand that undertakes the construction."
The man's face darkened.
"Ridiculous! What can you do besides mining? If we hand over the arms factory to you, are the cannons you build meant to blast mountains?"
The feisty old woman slammed her hand on the table and stood up.
"What did you say!"
I'm telling the truth.
The two men glared at each other across the long table, their entourages behind them poised to attack.
With these two taking the lead, leaders of other city-states followed suit. Some proposed joint development of the ruins, others wanted technical blueprints in exchange for aid supplies, and still others set their sights on Pejite's shipyard.
The argument grew louder and louder, and all pretense of etiquette vanished, revealing naked greed beneath.
Haideng's forehead veins bulged, but he was powerless to refute them, because he knew that some of what these people said was true.
Pejite indeed couldn't muster several hundred regular troops to maintain order, nor was he capable of protecting his factories and mines.
But the aid from these people is even more unacceptable.
Look at those so-called aid conditions: exchanging patented technology or factory production lines for cheap food and supplies. What's the difference between that and looting during a crisis?!
But what could he do?
If they refuse aid, Pejite will descend into chaos and famine; if they accept aid, they will be left to their own devices to be divided up.
He looked at Asumo, but the king remained silent.
Haideng's hands clenched and unclenched, he wanted to yell at his allies, "Have you said enough?"
Before anyone knew it, the girl in blue had stood up and said those words for him.
Princess Nausicaä, what is this...?
boom!
A terrifying mental pressure erupted from Nausicaä, forming a tangible Storm that swept across the entire conference room, instantly silencing everyone.
"What were you saying three days ago when we were sitting like this in the Mining Town?"
"How many people feel that Pejite is too far removed from their own lives, and perhaps they should wait and see?"
"And how many people, instead of sending even a single regular army unit, have only sent a few hundred militiamen to their deaths?"
"More than ten countries with multiple gunboats pooled together five gunboats to support a friendly nation. Aren't you afraid of being laughed at?"
"If you had had this kind of enthusiasm back then, those two Wind Rider who risked their lives to cover the Allied Forces might not have died at all!"
Upon hearing Nausicaä's poignant accusations, many national representatives instinctively felt ashamed.
But who are they? They are seasoned veterans who can sit in positions of power, leaders of city-states capable of managing tens of thousands of people. How could they be refuted by a princess of a small country?
"Your Highness Nausicaä, you're exaggerating. We do have our own difficulties too—"
"Yes, young people shouldn't rush to conclusions; they should start from reality—"
"The war is over, don't get so worked up."
Various seemingly reassuring but actually deceptive words came from the mouths of leaders of various countries.
In their eyes, she was just a young girl, hot-blooded and impetuous; a little comforting would be enough.
However, Nausicaä not only possesses a maturity far beyond her appearance and age, but also has the guidance of her "grandpa" Mu En, so she doesn't fall for any of this.
She gave a soft, cold laugh, the sarcasm in it causing many people to frown.
"Who told you the war is over? Do you think you're playing house?"