Chapter 86
Chapter 86
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 86
Chapter Title: Black Flags and Red Blood
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"The royal family promised peace in exchange for the white flag. They whispered that we must survive, that as long as we live, opportunities will come despite the humiliation. But was that promise kept? No! It wasn't then, and it won't be in the future!"
"Citizen comrades, we must do what is right! If we scrape by on humiliating scraps of bread, the sons and daughters of the East will live forever without a shred of proud hope!"
"Rise up! Fight! We must show them we are not slaves who bow in submission! The day the kingdom's white flag is painted black, our liberation will dawn!"
"We are slaves no longer!"
"Death to the oppressor!"
Crowds of common folk poured into the streets.
They hurled stones and refuse at the soldiers deployed to suppress them, belting out revolutionary anthems of liberation at the top of their lungs.
Black flags waved desperately in countless hands, matched by black cloths tied around every neck.
The masses showed no sign of backing down, even in the face of the suppression forces ordering them to disperse.
"Wh-what should we do, General?"
"......Hah."
It had been a full month since the revolutionary group known as the Eastern Crows had seized the city of Sodom.
Yet the royal family hadn't suppressed them—in fact, they couldn't even stem the spread.
Look at it now.
Even in this mining city, far from Sodom, the songs of revolution echoed through the air.
The people of the East, starved and oppressed for so long, were finally tasting the sweet fruit of ideology and discovering what true value really meant.
Of course, no one could predict what such radical change might bring.
What mattered to them was the reality staring them in the face right now.
The suppression force commander, hastily dispatched by the royals, bowed his heavy head.
With a deep sigh, he issued the order.
"Pull the troops back."
These soldiers, recruited for suppression, were mostly local militiamen from the city.
How could they properly crack down on neighbors and family just across the street?
No, it was a blessing they hadn't turned their spears around. It was a royally clueless response to war.
"Are you sure? There will be repercussions."
"I'll take responsibility. Don't worry."
He had joined the army full of dreams to defend the Eastern Kingdom, but now, in his old age, he no longer knew what was right.
It was time to go home.
The general, his cloudy eyes gazing at the sky, wearily removed his heavy helmet.
"Lay down your weapons!"
Thud, clank!
At the command, the suppression troops blocking the streets lowered their shields and spears with relieved expressions.
Who was enemy, who was ally? The blurry line had been unclear from the start, and the standoff between the masses and the troops ended without incident.
Waaaaaaaaah— — — —!!
The people erupted in cheers.
They dyed the streets with black flags and cloths, joyfully embracing the unexpected change.
Of course, the wave that began in Sodom soon spread beyond that small mining city, painting the entire East in black flags.
But this was a far cry from the spontaneous uprisings in the North.
The fervor only stirred up muddied waters.
Gulp.
Today, there was no opening state council, no demands for countermeasures from anyone.
The darkened manor was dim, and the gathered ministers sat in total silence.
The reason for the hush was simple.
Today's secret meeting held topics too thorny even for a puppet king to hear.
Of course, an even bigger draw was meeting the old fox guarding this manor.
The courtiers' eyes fixed on one spot: an elderly man with advanced years.
Tsk tsk.
"So, you've come crawling back here with your tails between your legs?"
After the Northern Kingdom's fall, the Eastern Kingdom had rotted from within.
And the starting point was undoubtedly this fox, who first sniffed out the scent of power.
Former Prime Minister Gregors.
Once, Gregors had served Eastern King Wilhelm II more loyally than any, managing the realm with brilliant skill as the kingdom's famed prime minister.
But whether the world changed him or he changed the world, after the North fell, the famed minister turned traitor.
Not content with shaking the weakened king into surrendering to the Empire, he purged the loyalists and dragged the royal house's once-glorious authority through the mud.
His reward? Sweet power.
A fox under the tiger's shadow still had a fine den of its own.
"......We had no choice, milord."
Gregors had retired from official posts.
But the powers still steering the Eastern Kingdom danced to his tune.
Change meant certain death for the immovable.
With a massive uprising in the East, even the fox's den wasn't safe.
"Tch."
As if to prove it, Gregors wiped the smirk from his face.
He tapped ash from his pure gold pipe and scolded the courtiers who had come to him.
"You fools can't even hold what you have."
Sensing the crisis, the courtiers had followed protocol and summoned military commanders.
Instead of royal guards to protect them, they scraped together a suppression force from cheap militias.
But the uprising spread faster than expected, and militias unused for years were woefully inadequate.
They lacked proper weapons, and no one among them was mad enough to brutally suppress their own kin.
Even after years of peace, this level of incompetence—what good were they?
Seeing the courtiers still clueless, Gregors finally spoke.
"I'll send someone."
"You have a solution?"
Gregors smiled indifferently.
Exhaling smoke over his grotesque, wrinkled face, he murmured.
"Just hire some mercenaries. The Redskins... yes, those bastards should still be at the Hook Mines. That'll do."
To quash a popular revolt by his own citizens, he planned to bring in orc mercenaries—practically foreign forces.
Any administrator schooled in palace affairs knew this was the final step toward national ruin.
"B-but."
Even these gall-selling courtiers couldn't hide their shock.
If brutal mercenaries led the suppression, it would turn into a true slaughter.
"What, feeling guilty now?"
But the old demon, intent on entering his coffin with the Eastern Kingdom, twisted his wrinkled eyes into a hideous grin.
"Too late for regrets. If you've punched a hole in the ship yourself, you should be ready to sink with it. You're all too soft."
Even a rotten apple must be eaten alone.
That was his idea of power.
Time flowed like a torrent.
The cold winds blowing under the autumn skies that ripened the grain heralded winter's approach.
It was the sharp edge of early winter, when all farming ended and preparations for the cold season began.
Yet the people of the East flooded the streets, singing together as if the encroaching chill meant nothing.
"People, rise up again and again!"
"Until the white flag turns black!"
They raided abandoned government warehouses, sharing the grain the royals had seized.
They shed their ragged clothes and finally dressed in garments made for themselves.
This was freedom. This was liberation.
Ideology filled bellies like bread, and united conviction was sturdier than any weapon.
Before winter's arrival, the Eastern Crows and the masses—who had swallowed half the East—surged toward their final target: the portside small city.
Though suppression troops blocked the city square, they looked already stripped of will to fight, without even spear tips.
Victory's high ground was finally in sight.
Helena, quietly observing from amid the crowd, cautiously asked her adjutant.
"What of the North?"
"Same as always. They ignore our letters but keep blocking the orc armies trying to enter the East."
"Whew, at least that's good news."
The North refused letters but indirectly guarded the East's gateway well.
Helena, biting her lip in anxiety, finally exhaled in relief.
This uprising was a gamble she wouldn't have dared without the North retaking the passes.
To drag this out long-term, she desperately needed that aid, no matter what.
She had to keep persuading the North.
Her face easing, Helena prepared her final order to the adjutant.
"Keep sending letters. If the king..."
Waaaaaaaaah — — — —!!
But thunderous applause and a massive roar exploded across the square.
The standoff troops finally parted, retreating from the path.
The masses went wild with joy.
Victory won without a drop of blood seemed proof they were on the right path.
"We won!"
"Farewell, Eastern brothers!"
The commander had finally made his choice.
Helena praised the suppression commander who had clung to his last shred of conscience.
Of course, the popular revolution she envisioned was just beginning, but she didn't want to sour the mood on such a joyful day.
"Haha!"
Helena, soaked in hatred and rage toward the Eastern royals, laughed brightly for the first time.
She waved her flag, joining hands with the jubilant masses to dance freely.
Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank!
"— — — —?"
But sadly, liberation and freedom always fed on blood.
The cheering crowd turned at the sudden sound of steel boots.
Flutter!
There, filling the void left by the departed suppression troops, stood steel-armored figures waving red flags.
Twice the size of Eastern humans, with massive halberds ready to cleave foes in half.
The hideous faces peeking from their helmets screamed they weren't human.
An eerie silence fell.
Only the prickling nape warned of the tragedy to come.
"Ah, ah......!"
Helena's face went pale.
Grinding her teeth, she screamed at the masses still oblivious to the peril.
"Everyone, run......!!"
"Fire!"
Fwhoosh! Thunk!
Pssht! Crunch!
Kyaaaaah!
Amy! Amy, nooooo!
Too late. Massive steel crossbows loosed their bolts.
A clueless family toppled first, then nearby folk began dropping like flies.
This wasn't suppression.
It was aimed shots to kill, firing lines treating the masses as enemies.
R-run!
Spare us! Mommyyy!
The festive port square turned to hellish rubble in moments.
Bodies and guts littered the ground; young and old alike lost their lives.
The Redskins, faces painted red.
The mercenaries from the Hook Mines massacred humans without a qualm.
Clank! Clank! Clank! Clank!
"You must evade!"
"N-no! Let go! Let me go!"
After the aimed volley, they advanced with heavy halberds.
Helena tried rushing to the folk who hadn't fled yet, but her desperate adjutant dragged her back.
Heads split on halberd blades.
Countless masses screamed as the advancing orcs butchered them.
Helena wept bloody tears, cursing the royals who had forsaken their humanity.
Crunch! Stab!
Resistance was utterly crushed.
The city went up in flames.
In the port turned inferno, thousands of commoners had their throats slit.
The horrific news spread across the East with the biting winter—and reached the North, where they were solidifying the kingdom's foundations.