The Black Wave
By the time I arrived, downtown Jackson, where the Capitol had been attacked, was already half-submerged in chaos.
Because most of the troops meant to defend the city had been diverted toward the Pearl River railroad bridge, a complete, albeit brief, vacuum had been created in the city's defenses.
Looking back, although it was steeped in madness, it was a strategy that was, in its own way, meticulous.
If everything had played out exactly as this man intended, wouldn't the Civil War have been brought forward by at least a year compared to the original history?
The only things that had changed due to my intervention were the Boston 50-cent incident and Will's trial, but to think that even that much would cause a butterfly effect of this magnitude.
It might be evidence that the conflict between the North and the South had reached a breaking point, where even a single trivial element could cause it to explode even more violently.
If it had been any other matter, I would have happily chewed up and spat out the hopeless Southern dickies, but the gravity of this situation was different.
An unprecedented terrorist plot to mobilize mobs to raid the Capitol and, in the midst of the commotion, assassinate the moderate Southern legislators.
The moment I left this alone, it would be tantamount to the outbreak of the Civil War, so naturally, I had to stop it, but the situation where my precious workers had to risk their lives did not sit well with me.
“Listen up, everyone! From now on, you will act exactly as I explained while we were coming here. Based on the map, Peters is currently at the 9 to 10 o'clock position of the Capitol, and you must capture him alive there. If capture is not feasible, killing him is unavoidable, but I aim to capture him alive if possible. Of course, if he resists, just shoot him.”
“Yes!”
“Keep this in mind! You are not regular soldiers anyway, and even if you risk your lives and work hard, the white bastards won't be sincerely grateful. So, just fight moderately and aim only to capture Peters!”
If they fought with their lives and died, the dickies would just think that the n-words did what they were naturally supposed to do, so wouldn't it be too unfair to lose their lives like that?
“Above all, you know well how immense my loss will be if you die, right? Absolutely do not overdo it! Fight safely!”
Before entering the battle, as I shouted with all my might and told them to prioritize their lives, one of the Black men standing at the forefront raised his hand and stepped forward.
“Master, if I may be so bold, may I say a word to my comrades before we head into battle?”
Mark.
He was the field foreman of the Cedar Grove plantation who had wanted to follow John Brown with Will, but now he was my most fervent follower and a groom-to-be who was about to get married.
“Go ahead. Say it.”
“Thank you. Everyone! You heard it, but we are all the Master's most precious assets! In other words, the work we do is the Master's work, and the merit we earn is the Master's merit!
If we catch the mastermind behind this, the Master will be able to go to even higher places, and all of our colleagues on the plantation, and those who will be here in the future, will enjoy those benefits!”
“Waaaaaah!”
“Let's prioritize our lives but earn as much merit as possible! For the Master! For all of us!”
“Kill the terrorists!”
“Let’s tear the Fire-Eaters apart!”
The morale surging and overflowing was so high that even I, standing in front, felt something welling up in my chest.
Mark turned to look at me and shouted loudly.
“As the Master’s Personal Guard, we will fight valiantly enough for the Master to express his gratitude!”
“This time, they have enough time to prepare, so the aspect will be completely different from the last fight where we could attack unilaterally. Do not let your guard down, and everyone return alive!”
“Yes! Everyone, let’s go!”
“Uaaaaah! Let’s shoot those bastards to death!”
It was as if they had erased from their minds all the words about being careful and fighting moderately.
My soldiers, wearing temporary Mississippi Militia armbands, began their advance, having lost all fear.
To my eyes, the sight looked as if the black wave that had risen in Natchez was covering the Capitol of Jackson.
"There! The Capitol entrance!"
Ben shouted from the lead.
Already, faint gunshots and screams were leaking out from inside.
The Fire-Eaters must have started their work first.
The defensive troops stationed at the Capitol entrance and windows were also scanning the surroundings when they discovered the massive group rushing toward them.
“...Huh, is that for real?”
“The n-words are rushing at us with guns...?”
“What are you looking at, you idiots! Those guys are armed! Shoot! Shoot them!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets from their muskets and revolvers sliced through the air.
“Out of range! Stop! Aim!”
Mark raised his arm and halted the advance of his unit.
The enemy's bullets couldn't even reach them and only kicked up dust on the ground in front.
As expected, the enemy was clearly a bunch of clumsy fools who had never received professional training.
But even so, this was different from the ambush at Black Creek or when they had just wiped out Miles's men in a surprise attack.
A head-on firefight where each side recognized the other and fired.
Are you afraid?
Bang!
Mark pulled the trigger first. The heavy gunshot tore through Jackson's night air.
One of the guys firing from the entrance steps had his chest burst open and tumbled backward.
Bang! Bang! Rat-a-tat-bang!
A volley of fire followed. Just as they had learned in training.
“Argh!”
“Th-these bastards are firing military rifles!”
“What kind of crazy bastard gave those guns to the n-words!”
The Personal Guard confirmed once again that their revolvers and shotguns were at the level of toys.
Once they confirmed that the Springfield 1855s they were using overwhelmed the enemy's weapons in both range and firepower, there was no reason to hesitate.
There was not a shred of fear in the eyes of the Black soldiers who gripped their guns tightly.
The proud Personal Guard.
They had already thrown away the fear of firefights in a corner of the cotton field.
We will lift our savior to a higher place.
By killing them. By burying those white trash, we will lift the Master to a higher place.
Then our world will also expand.
“Advance! Suppressive fire! Advance while using cover!”
They were no longer afraid of white men.
Because they were soldiers fighting to expand the Sett Kingdom and to place their Master on the throne.
“Ugh!”
Even the last guy who had been hiding by the window and only sticking his head out had his head blown off.
A perfect victory.
The enemies blocking the entrance were annihilated, and there were zero losses.
However, Mark, who checked the time, had an intuition.
If they pushed into the main gate like this, they would lose Peters.
Since too much time was being wasted, the guy was clearly already looking for another exit like a rat.
Amidst the hail of gunfire, the conversation he had shared with Will suddenly crossed his mind.
‘What we are protecting is not just the Master, but the over a thousand compatriots who are attached to this place. Thousands more compatriots will walk this path we have paved in the future.’
Therefore, they had to accomplish it, even if they had to sacrifice everything.
“Ben! Leo! I leave this place to you! Break through the main gate! Let’s cut off their retreat!”
Mark called five of his fastest comrades with a glance.
“We will flank! We must never lose Peters!”
They left the main unit without hesitation and began to flank into the darkness, to the side of the burning Capitol.
To catch the mastermind of all this with the hands of the n-words they despised the most.
From the moment the battle began, Peters's reason rang alarm bells like crazy.
That it was they, not the others, who had fallen into a trap, so they had to retreat unconditionally.
“Retreat! It’s a retreat! Get out through the back door first and join up with Miles!”
He didn't want to admit that he had been deceived, but surviving was the priority now.
Peters secured his rear so he could withdraw at any time and ordered his subordinates in the front to fight back.
But before they could even open the door, a massive impact sound rang out from outside first.
Rat-a-tat-bang!
“Argh!”
“The door! The door is blocked!”
The door was smashed by accurate fire, and a couple of subordinates who were trying to block the entrance tumbled down, spewing blood.
Front and back. Both sides were blocked.
“Damn it!”
Naturally, this wasn't some slave rebellion.
The enemy's goal was not other white men, but solely them.
It was a perfectly crafted encirclement, aimed at this very moment from the start.
The Pearl River bridge. Sett's martyrdom. The Capitol guard's departure.
And even the appearance of this armed Black unit.
Peters realized that his grand plan was on the verge of being dumped into the gutter, amidst a chilling goosebump that made his blood run cold.
“Heh... hehehe...”
Even so, strangely, he wasn't afraid.
No. Rather, laughter burst out.
“Hahahaha! I’ve been played! James Sett! I’ve been played by a greenhorn who just turned twenty!”
Even though everything he had built up over decades was on the verge of being smashed and collapsing, he felt strangely lighthearted, to a mysterious degree.
Is this what they call madness? If so, he felt he wouldn't mind falling into it as much as he liked.
The burning chandelier caught his eye.
“Burn it! Burn it all! We don't need this kind of Capitol anyway! In the capital of the new slave empire, there is no need for such relics of the old era! Burn it all!”
At Peters's mad command, the Fire-Eaters, who had lost their reason, began throwing torches at curtains and piles of documents.
At the same time, Sett’s Personal Guard, who had broken through the Capitol main gate, entered the hall.
Bang! Rat-a-tat-bang!
“Fight back! Those guys are just n-words!”
Peters's subordinates fired their revolvers and shotguns.
The hall was instantly filled with thick smoke and gunfire.
But the basic combat power itself was different.
“Ugh!”
“My arm... my arm!”
It wasn't just the performance of the weapons.
Morale, training, comprehensive organizational power—nothing could be compared.
“Pathetic bastards... to be dying at the hands of n-words! Are you guys white men after all that!”
Peters didn't even feel sympathy for the soldiers who were spewing blood and falling.
“Hey! Cover me! Sacrifice your lives for the South!”
Peters pushed the back of the subordinate closest to him and put him forward as a human shield.
Bang!
The moment the subordinate's back burst open, Peters flew his body into the emergency passage with only the guards he trusted most.
Since he had set fire to the Capitol, he had to consider that his initial goal had been achieved.
He just had to get out of here safely for now.
Then, if he could somehow manipulate the evidence and the situation to make excuses, he might be able to end it with just a resignation from the speakership if he played his cards right.
Of course, even if that didn't happen, it didn't matter anymore.
For the sake of this Southern freedom and the completion of the slave empire.
He genuinely began to think that it wouldn't be bad if his own corpse were used as kindling for the birth of a new hero.
Isn't that so?
If it’s a human who has driven him to this point using none other than n-words, he has no choice but to acknowledge it.
James Sett, that man might be a person with the qualifications to trample on his corpse and become the emperor of this South.
Peters didn't stop his thoughts, ran madly through the dusty hallway, and finally kicked open the exit door and went out.
The dark backyard courtyard. And.
“...Heh.”
Peters froze in place.
Under the moonlight, armed Black men were already waiting for him, blocking his retreat.
“That’s as far as you go, traitors.”
The front was James Sett’s main unit.
And the retreat was... just those n-words.
He, John Peters, who had dreamed of being the Speaker of Mississippi and the president of a new Southern slave empire, had become a rat in a trap.
And that, too, at the hands of the slaves he had considered less than beasts.
“Heh... hehehe... hahahahaha!”
Peters's shoulders shook with mad laughter.
“Just! Just by n-words! By me!”
“By the order of Captain James Sett, I arrest the traitor!”
“A rat in a trap, is it! Good! But were you not stupid n-words enough to come here to block this place with just that number?”
“If I had flanked with a larger number, you would have noticed. You human who is even stupider than a stupid n-word.”
Peters laughed, fixed his revolver, and aimed it at them.
“Good! James Sett! Trample on my corpse and become the hero of the South!”
Black men and white men firing at each other.
Shouts, screams, blood, gunfire, smoke, the smell of gunpowder.
Everything in the world was submerged in darkness and turned pitch black.
The red blood spewing from within the body, the groans and screams of pain.
Whether it was a white body or a black body, there wasn't much difference in the death throes they vomited out in the final moments of life.