Chapter 708.1: Not Bad, My Child Has Grown Capable

In the Heavenly City, the Imperial Palace of the Xilande Empire.

Having stayed for several days without seeing so much as the shadow of a soldier, McClennan had grown a little bored. He ended up dragging his adjutant along to wander around the palace grounds.

The adjutant’s name was Yarun, a member of the civil service system with prior experience working in the Ministry of Internal Affairs. He held the rank of a battalion commander. About three years ago, he had been dispatched to the Poro Province to manage the interests of the Triumphant City civil-official faction there. His understanding of local conditions the same as that of the natives.

As they passed a side hall of the palace, McClennan noticed a group of well-dressed young men and women gathered around a sand table.

The sand table covered roughly a dozen square meters. On it were wooden carved pieces, ferocious-looking tigers, leopards, jackals, wolves, birds of prey, and other beasts, each pushed about by servants holding long poles.

Curious, McClennan asked, “What’s this?”

“War chess.”

“... Where are the soldiers?”

“The hundred beasts on the board are the soldiers. Snakes eat mice, eagles eat snakes, lions and tigers rule, but both fear elephants. Cattle under the blazing sun are omnipotent and mice in the night are unseen...” Seeing McClennan’s odd expression, Yarun chuckled and explained, “Don’t underestimate their exercise. It actually reflects the political philosophy and spiritual world of the survivors here.”

After a pause, he continued, “Also, a standard board needs 12 square meters. Including the pieces, it weighs six tons. Ordinary families can’t afford to play it. As for the assessment board set beneath the steps of the side hall, now that’s something else entirely. It is 3,300 square meters and there are 1,000 pieces, each as tall as a man. I’ve been here for years and still haven’t figured out how it’s played.”

“Assessment?”

“Mainly to select military talent.”

McClennan’s eyebrow twitched, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “They use this thing to pick generals?”

“In part, yes. At the very least, a six-ton board weeds out a good number of poor bastards.”

“And the rest?”

“That’s where our contribution comes in,” Yarun said animatedly. “We recovered some expeditionary equipment left behind in the Sunset Province through the Silvermoon Bay. For less than 30,000,000 Dinars, we helped them build a professional army, and that army is now the ace of the entire Poro Province.”

At the mention of the expeditionary force, the corner of McClennan’s mouth twitched involuntarily.

As they spoke, the nobles around the sand table noticed the two passing by and stopped their discussion.

A young man who looked to be of considerable status stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “Mr. McClennan, good afternoon.”

McClennan sized up the slick-haired fellow. “And you are?”

Delighted to be addressed by the Wislander, the young noble hurried on, “I am Manish, second son of the Saisan family. I have long heard of your fame, General. Might I ask to spar with you in the art of command?”

Yarun leaned in and whispered, “He’s the champion of the last grand examination, Prince Dilip’s personal disciple. If you’re interested in their war chess, having him explain the rules wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

McClennan glanced at the young man, suddenly broke into a grin, said nothing, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked on.

Yarun quickly followed.

The nobles, however, took no offense at the Wislander’s rudeness. On the contrary, they were delighted, especially the young man who had approached him.

“He smiled at me!” Manish boasted to his companions.

The young men and women around the sand table laughed and showered him with flattery.

“General McClennan must have seen the makings of a five-star general in you!”

“Sir Manish, you’ll surely become an even greater general than your teacher!” said a young woman in an emerald-green gown, her brown curls braided, hands clasped to her chest, eyes shining.

Listening to the praise, Manish smiled and raised a hand, offering a token show of modesty. “You flatter me. I’m still far behind Prince Dilip...”

...

In the side hall, chasing after McClennan, Yarun said helplessly, “Couldn’t you be just a bit nicer to them? They’re our friends in name, at least. And if you want to see your troops sooner, building relationships with these nobles is actually a good idea. That Wutuo Xilande has been deliberately cultivating the military literacy of those of royal bloodline.”

McClennan replied nonchalantly, “I’m just communicating with them in the way they like. Didn’t you notice that they respect me more when I do this?”

At first, he had reflected on whether he had gone too far.

Especially when he recalled how, in the River Valley Province, survivors had rushed to die generously for their leader without hesitation. It had shaken him.

Respect others to earn respect in return. Perhaps the Wislander attitude toward other races really was too arrogant.

However, doing that in the Xilande Empire was meaningless.

Everyone there was scheming about how to push their authority to the limit, while clawing back the dignity trampled by their superiors by bullying those beneath them. He had personally seen a duke openly escort a count’s wife away at a banquet, only for that count, smiling, to send them off in a ridiculous sedan chair and then turn around to take another baroness by the arm.

The Heavenly City was like a single, connected centipede. Some people wore clean, neat clothes, yet were filthier than those with no clothes at all.

He wasn’t a good man himself, but the thought of joining that centipede held no appeal whatsoever.

He had never been so ascetic.

At that moment, the communicator on Yarun’s wrist flashed. He immediately put on his earpiece, his expression changing.

McClennan was about to ask what had happened when he saw a familiar, thick beard approaching briskly, surrounded by servants.

Completely unlike their first meeting, the angular face was now full of panic. His stumbling steps were like those of a man crossing a single-log bridge, and in his sunken eyes there was only confusion and fear.

McClennan realized he hadn’t been wrong, this was cruelty and cunning, strong on the outside but hollow within.

Before Yarun could greet him, the emperor of the Xilan Empire blurted out, “General, save me!”

Startled as Wutuo Xilande grabbed his arm, McClennan stepped back a little. “What’s... happened?”

Wutuo Xilande released him, hastily straightened his clothes, but couldn’t hide the panic in his eyes. After his gaze darted about, he said, “... Let’s talk somewhere else.”

...

They moved from the side hall to a council chamber in the rear courtyard. There, Wutuo Xilande finally recounted the entire sequence of events.

At first, his account was evasive, downplaying the cause, exaggerating the New Alliance’s brutality after landing at Port Gallon, and portraying their response to the ceasefire as unreasonable.

But Yarun had his own intelligence network locally, and many within the Grey Wolf Army had been trained by them. Naturally, he knew the truth.

Of course, the truth itself was never the most important thing. What mattered was how to resolve the problem.

Seeing the shaken emperor, Yarun coughed lightly and tried to reassure him. “Please don’t panic, Your Majesty. I roughly understand what happened... the New Alliance’s reaction was indeed somewhat excessive.”

“Excessive?!” Wutuo Xilande’s eyes bulged as he slammed a fist into the armrest of his carved wooden chair. “Port Gallon is our most important outlet on the east coast! A million imperial subjects live there! And you call this excessive?!”

McClennan toyed with the teacup on the table, not even looking at him.

The fact that the man could still sit here yelling meant the New Alliance had no intention of pushing further. That eased McClennan’s worries compared to when he had first arrived.

If the man had tried to drag him into fleeing for his life, he might have panicked.

Yarun, seated beside them, tried to soothe things over. “Please calm down, Your Majesty... have some tea first.”

He knew the emperor wasn’t worried about the million dirt-eating subjects, but about the gold stored at the port.

500,000,000 Dinars was no small sum.

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