Chapter 984: Controlled Reaction

Hearing Rosetta’s reply, Ferdinand fell into deep thought. It felt like a long time passed before he finally looked up and saw the ruler of Typhon standing there with a calm, serene expression—calmer than ever before.

Yet beneath that tranquil exterior, Ferdinand sensed a coiled power, ready to spring forth. This force had been building for years, so many had assumed it faded with time, but now, in this moment, Ferdinand realized it was still very much alive—never weakened in the slightest.

Rosetta Augustus was both a cautious strategist and a startling gambler—his courage remained as bold as ever.

“This could turn into a high-stakes gamble,” Ferdinand couldn’t help but say—not to dissuade, but simply to voice his thoughts. “Your Majesty, if the balance tips out of control, both we and the entire empire will be doomed beyond redemption.”

“We are already on that path—not because we’re chasing a gamble, but because all hope now lies within this gamble,” Rosetta suddenly smiled faintly. “This crisis was bound to come. Since it has, we must find a way to turn it into an opportunity.”

“…Then I will do everything in my power,” Ferdinand said after a moment’s hesitation, bowing his head. “To atone for and wash away this disgrace.”

“You know it’s not your fault… but I understand why you’d say that now.”

At that moment, a knock came from nearby, interrupting their conversation.

Rosetta glanced toward the door. “Come in.”

The door to the magical laboratory opened, and Windsor Mapel, the dignified head of the Royal Mage Association, appeared. She looked momentarily startled upon seeing Duke Ferdinand speaking with Rosetta, then nodded slightly before quickly approaching the ruler. Her expression was hesitant, as if she had something to say but was holding back.

Rosetta studied the legendary mage’s face and seemed to guess what she wanted to say. He glanced briefly at Duke Ferdinand before turning back to Windsor with a slight nod. “Speak your mind.”

Windsor glanced at Ferdinand again, hesitated briefly, then said, “Your Majesty, the communication tower just received news—Winterwolf Fortress has fallen.”

Ferdinand’s breath caught sharply. The old duke’s body trembled ever so slightly; his fingers clenched and relaxed before he finally spoke, “And General Andersa…”

“General Andersa is not dead,” Windsor hurried to clarify, though her expression grew even more complicated and hesitant. “She… was captured by the Cecile forces.”

Ferdinand seemed to relax slightly, but his expression quickly turned conflicted. “Was it… a failed defense?”

“No. She surrendered—along with the entire Winterwolf Knights, the Black Flag Mage Corps, and a large number of surviving regular troops,” Windsor said through gritted teeth, speaking in one breath. “The report came from the mage outposts around Winterwolf. The Cecile forces haven’t sealed off the information. The flag of sword and plow now flies over Winterwolf Fortress, and Cecile’s army is steadily fortifying the surrounding area.”

“Sur… surrender?” Ferdinand’s eyes widened in shock, even more than when he first heard the fortress had fallen. His face twisted in disbelief, as if he’d just heard the most impossible news in the world. “She surrendered?! Along with two entire corps and countless regular troops? She gave up the entire Winterwolf defensive line?!”

The old wolf’s voice rose, a rare crack in his decades of steadfast resolve. His face flushed red, emotions tangled between anger and sorrow, as if the brief joy he’d felt moments ago was shattered by this devastating blow.

His agitation was so intense that even Windsor Mapel, the head of the Royal Mage Association, instinctively took a step back. Then, as if defending someone, she explained, “Intelligence shows the Cecile forces used unprecedented war technology—they launched attacks from high altitude with devastating power, quickly destroying Winterwolf’s main shield and outer districts. Only the castle itself survived under backup shields. Under those conditions, the front line couldn’t hold; delaying was pointless…”

Ferdinand couldn’t help but shout, “Then she should have withdrawn! At least saved the core of the corps…”

Before he could finish, Rosetta’s hand suddenly rested on his shoulder. “If the Cecile forces truly launched such an attack, I don’t believe Andersa had any chance to safely evacuate those trapped inside the castle.”

Ferdinand fell silent, staring at the emperor, only to be met with a smile.

“I understand why you’re so upset, Duke Ferdinand,” Rosetta said with a smile. “But honestly, when I heard Andersa chose to surrender under these circumstances, I felt a measure of relief.”

Ferdinand seemed momentarily puzzled by the deeper meaning behind those words. “…You mean?”

“Andersa is sharper than you—perhaps because she’s at the very heart of the storm, she saw the truth earlier,” Rosetta’s smile grew more pronounced. “Duke Ferdinand, it seems you’ve grown duller than before.”

Ferdinand’s fiery emotions cooled, replaced by a thoughtful expression. As he pondered, Rosetta’s voice came again: “Aren’t you glad Andersa is safe?”

“I…” Ferdinand opened his mouth, hesitated, then sighed softly. “Of course I’m glad…”

“Perhaps history will remember her as a hero—for a wolf general, choosing to give up honor may be harder than giving up life,” Rosetta said calmly. “But we must act quickly. The Cecile army’s offensive power is stronger than I expected, and I suspect Gawain Cecile has yet to return to the Loren continent. That may be the biggest unknown… To be honest, I don’t trust anyone in the Cecile ruling body except Gawain himself.”

Ferdinand nodded.

Then, after a few seconds of hesitation, the former wolf general seemed to wrestle with himself before finally speaking, “Your Majesty, about Andersa…”

Rosetta glanced at Duke Ferdinand and finally smiled. “Rest assured, I will do whatever it takes to bring her home safely—every Typhon soldier will return home safely.”

…

The Cecile flag flew high above Winterwolf Fortress—the blue field and golden sword and plow catching the first golden rays of dawn, fluttering fiercely in the cold winter wind. The original black and red banners of the Typhon Empire had all been lowered—not discarded or trampled, but carefully packed away under orders, to be sent back to Changfeng as trophies.

Philip stepped into the fortress. As his carriage passed through the massive breach where the main gate had collapsed, the young general felt a strange sense of unreality.

He had never imagined entering Winterwolf Fortress like this—certainly not so soon. This stronghold on Typhon’s border had long been a symbol in the hearts of countless Cecile soldiers. From the days of the Ansu Kingdom to the current empire, generations of generals and soldiers had eyed this fortress warily, regarding its garrison as their greatest rival and threat. Yet today… it had fallen so easily.

Of course, “easily” wasn’t quite right. Though the assault lasted only a day and night and seemed smooth, Cecile’s mechanized legions faced their toughest and most dangerous resistance since their formation. Typhon’s strategic magic inflicted heavy casualties, and the fierce, brief defense by the Winterwolf Legion and Black Flag Mage Corps during the final push into the inner city shocked frontline commanders. Honestly, if the defenders hadn’t suddenly lost half their fighting strength and been unfamiliar with Cecile’s “new tactics,” this battle would never have been so straightforward.

But the battlefield doesn’t deal in “ifs.” No matter how strong a warrior, once fallen, they are just a corpse. On this stage where only results matter, Cecile had the upper hand.

The outer city lay in ruins, smoke billowing. Bombing had pierced the shields, causing far greater destruction than expected. The bombed areas were reduced to rubble, and fires still burned at sunrise. Some of these fires were reportedly set by Typhon defenders themselves—to slow the advancing Cecile soldiers. Judging by the outcome, their efforts were not entirely in vain.

The magi-cars rumbled over the pockmarked outer city, entering the relatively intact inner city, heading toward the still-standing castle.

Philip’s gaze drifted through the window. He saw many disarmed Typhon soldiers lined up for registration. After initial counts and records, these prisoners would be dispersed to several rear camps—Cecile’s army was well practiced in handling large numbers of POWs and quickly setting up containment facilities. Once inside, these Typhon soldiers would undergo the first step of “neutralization.”

Technicians would identify any contamination on the soldiers and devise various solutions. Meanwhile, these soldiers would become valuable research subjects—the data collected from them would serve the future of mortals.

The adjutant sat beside Philip, also watching outside. Seeing the obediently lined-up Typhon soldiers, the young officer from the southern territories couldn’t help but ask, “General, how many of these are contaminated? How many remain clear-headed?”

“I previously judged that the entire Winterwolf Fortress was completely controlled by divine spiritual contamination,” Philip said, shaking his head slightly. “But after that ‘wolf general’ surrendered voluntarily, I suspect our assessment of Typhon and Winterwolf was off. It’s probably too soon to label Typhon a divine plague zone. As for the contamination ratio… I can’t say yet. That depends on the technical evaluations to come.”

“Unbelievable,” the adjutant said, surprised. “These Typhon soldiers are so quiet, showing no signs of spiritual contamination… If we hadn’t randomly tested a few with mental protection runes and ‘humanity barriers’ and found contamination, I wouldn’t believe their mental structures had already mutated… How can they cooperate so well?”

“Not all mental contamination turns a person into a dazed, mindless monster,” Philip said. “Sometimes, clear-headed, rational thinking can also be a result of such contamination. For the God of War, what it seeks at this moment is simply war itself. And for war… combat is just one part of it. Surrender is part of it. Charging into battle is part of it. Becoming a prisoner of war is part of it. Starting a war is war, and even a ceasefire afterward is an element of war. As long as these fundamental conditions don’t clash significantly, it’s quite normal for those lightly infected to appear calm and cooperative.”

“General, you really do know a lot.”

“You should read more in your spare time—books from all kinds of fields. It’ll do you good.”

As they spoke, the magic-powered vehicle rolled past the castle’s front courtyard. Once through the well-preserved gates, Philip finally reached the fortress’s core.

After disembarking, he took only his most trusted attendants and, led by a soldier, was brought before the highest commander of Winterwolf Fortress—the wolf general who had chosen to surrender.

She leaned against a soft divan, her body wrapped in bandages in multiple places. Streaks of dried blood seeped through the cloth, a sight that made Philip’s heart tighten. He noticed even her left eye was swathed in bandages, with blood staining the layers beneath. Against her pale face, the red was all the more striking.

Philip’s steps faltered.

He remembered seeing this wolf general before—then, she had been a figure of heroic grace and vigor.

Fate truly is a cruel trickster.

His gaze then shifted to the side of Andesha—the chair beside the divan held a young woman dressed in the habit of a battle sister, her golden hair falling softly over her shoulders. She was bent over a book, reading intently. Leaning quietly against the nearby wall was a combat “staff” equipped with a holy light cannon.

A battle sister… no, not just a battle sister. Philip noticed the golden patterns on her gauntlets and alloy armor plates—signs that she was a rank above, a “war sister.”

Likely one of the army’s clerics, sent to tend to the heavily wounded wolf general.

Judging by the bloodstains on the staff and the worn scuffs on her gauntlets, this was a sister both loyal and honorable.

Loyal beyond words, and strong enough to fell a bull with a single punch.

(End of chapter)