King
Chapter 993 - 993 125 Classic Falling into Water_2

993: Chapter 125, Classic Falling into Water_2 993: Chapter 125, Classic Falling into Water_2 The Expeditionary Army held elf prisoners, and everyone already knew it; they couldn’t just disappear without a trace.

Hudson, who cherished his reputation, certainly did not want to leave a blemish in the open.

“Goodbye!”

Having said that, Derris turned around and left directly.

The meaning of disdain was plainly shown.

Seeing this, Hudson’s mouth curved into a faint smile.

Disdain was best; getting too close to high-ranking individuals of different races was never a good thing.

Despite the Kingdom’s secretive actions, there would eventually be a day when all would be exposed.

It might just be a matter of time before old accounts would need to be settled; politics has never had room for tenderness.

The deeper the involvement, the harder it would be to extricate oneself in the future.

This threat came not only from abroad but could also arise within the country.

To keep secrets, only a few high-level officials in the Kingdom were aware of this plan.

At most, the Kingdom Aristocrats had some guesses but were unsure of what exactly had happened.

During war, everyone could understand it as “for the Kingdom,” but after the war, many would pretend to be confused, using it as an excuse to make trouble.

Once it started, King Caesar IV would be the primary target, but Hudson, the Marshal, would also be subjected to severe criticism.

A hero in wartime, a criminal in peacetime—such a scenario has happened more than once or twice in human history.

As a man of power, Hudson was not worried about being purged, but still, blemishes were to be avoided as much as possible.

“Pass down the order; the Expeditionary Army will break camp and return to the country tomorrow!”

All the actors were in place, and without him, the Warhammer Kingdom’s play could not go on.

…

Inside a desolate estate, several high-ranking members of the Te Gusta Resistance Organization gathered to discuss the future destiny of the organization.

“What do you think, can we trust the promises made by the Moxi People?”

The leader, Baxter, asked uncertainly.

As a mercenary, he had always dreamt of becoming a Noble.

But after trying genuinely, he realized how unrealistic this idea was.

He exerted himself, but the Noble Children were also busy—there was no room for outsiders to get involved.

The promise of ennoblement for military achievements was just something to listen to.

To gain military honors, one must first win battles.

The problem was that, in recent years, aside from civil wars, the Kingdom’s armies had been beaten and scattered in all directions.

Victory or defeat on the battlefield was not something a lowly soldier could change.

Joining the fray was just adding to the cannon fodder.

All roles entailed licking blood off the knife’s edge; serving the Noble Lords to death was not as good as being mercenaries, who could at least earn more.

Had the situation not developed and pushed him to the front, Baxter would have never dreamed he could raise an army.

Now, the shortcomings of his perspective were showing.

At life-and-death moments, without excess thoughts, leading the resistance organization posed no problem.

But as the situation gradually improved, the future destiny of the group had to be considered.

Having survived fierce battles, it was challenging for everyone to return to being cold and hungry Serfs.

“Big brother, whether true or false, we must give it a try.

As long as they’re willing to ennoble us, what’s wrong with fighting for them?

We brothers can’t fight to the death to establish a base and then let it all go to waste for that fleeing boy-king…”

Still apprehensive, Scarface stopped himself from completing his sentence.

After the East-West War Hammer Kingdom’s split, the two succeeding Princes were mere figureheads, with real power falling into the hands of Major Nobles.

The two unfortunate Kings, since ascending to the throne, hadn’t managed to do a thing before they were forced to flee.

Naturally, their popularity plummeted.

While it was fine to think so in their hearts, openly criticizing the King was still intimidating.

Those who dared to curse at the King to his face were “brave,” while most ordinary people respected the royal authority.

“Big brother, Scarface is right.

The Moxi People at least promised to ennoble us.

Once you become a Lord, big brother, we might manage to become Knights.

The representatives sent by those Noble Lords act so high and mighty, but aside from shouting a lot, they’re useless.

How can our brothers have killed so many of Different Races and regained much land for the Kingdom, yet receive no titles when rewards are due?

God damn it, tax exemption for ten years—do they think we haven’t seen money?

Integration into the regular army is even more ridiculous; I’d be ashamed of the Kingdom’s army!

If we perform well, we can become family servants—pah!

It’s clear they want us to give our lives for nothing and are reluctant to offer real benefits.

If we became their family servants, wouldn’t our military achievements become theirs?”

The thin young man spat out angrily.

Frankly, the conditions offered by the Warhammer Nobles were not low.

Under the current system, that was the best they could offer.

Titles?

That was wishful thinking; the puppet Kings put forth by the Warhammer Nobles, upon receiving news of the Expeditionary Army’s great victory, excitedly “drowned.”

Everyone was too busy scrambling for power to investigate the cause of the accident.

After all, if a puppet dies, just replace it.

This way of handling things was not wrong, but rules had to be followed.

Without the King’s permission, promising titles could easily lead to being labeled as Rebels.

The best they could offer was to take them in as family servants.

Family servants were also Nobles, just weaker in stature than the Nobles ennoble by Major Nobles.