My Players Are So Fierce

1242: 420.

Transylvania Travel Notes Volume Two: Annals of the Black Disaster Grand Opening

1242: 420.

Transylvania Travel Notes Volume Two: Annals of the Black Disaster Grand Opening

The soldier who had been too brave and fierce and had leapt into the trap did not ultimately perish.

Although his current situation, strung up as he was, meant death either way, it did not affect the instinct to survive that always managed to conjure some odd form of life in the face of utter despair.

When he shakily took the “gun of slaughter” that would surely kill someone once the trigger was pulled, in full view of everyone, he rolled his eyes back and, foaming at the mouth, “fainted” away.

Alright then.

That act was too crudely done.

Even a Wolf Person, who knew nothing but consuming flesh, would probably not believe such an overly frank “performance,” but amidst the deadly quiet, Maxim did not press further.

This Vampire General merely chuckled coldly, shifting his gaze from the foolish coward who had “fainted” to the others.

The previously aggressive rabble all lowered their heads under that gaze.

Their momentum was lost, their courage gone.

They couldn’t even think of raising the flag in rebellion now, let alone muster the courage to face these mad Transia People.

In this respect, although the laborer’s luck was terrible, the method of confrontation he chose was rather effective; for these brutes who styled themselves as courageous fighters, submissive obedience was the only choice when confronted with someone even more ruthless.

“Get back to your barracks.”

Dust Beater picked up the blood-stained revolver and shouted, amid the undisguised, mocking laughter of a group of wild local overseers behind him:

“Local officials will soon arrive to register you, assign you places to go.

For the sake of your insignificant lives and meaningless dignity, I advise you to stop making such trouble.

If you truly want to resist, then show some real action!”

The soldiers were scolded like grandchildren.

But they were powerless to retort, each hanging their head in embarrassment, and had to carry away the idiot who was still pretending to faint and had lost them face as they left.

This scene quickly spread throughout the nearby area, and as time passed, it crazily circulated throughout the military camp of fifty thousand.

Many lost the thought of making trouble, realizing these Transia People were not the barbarians they had imagined, but many still felt underestimated by the Transia People.

These guys were secretly plotting to pull off an even greater stunt, yet the courage they had mustered due to indignation quickly dissipated with the arrival of Marshal Valande leading 300 Winged Cavalry to the camp.

Subsequently, as the main forces of the New Blood Vulture Clan, led by student factions, continued to arrive, the brewing rebellion faded away.

Losing face was one thing, but dying horribly at the hands of the Winged Cavalry was quite another.

Forget it.

A true man knows when to bow and when to stand tall.

They thus consoled themselves, willingly abandoning their last chance to escape the Transia system.

All this was collected by the Golden Flower military observation group’s spies planted throughout the camp and was quickly compiled into reports for Colonel Fraser and several of his trusted commanding officers.

Realizing that the situation in the temporary camp had been brought under control, these officers planned to visit the Governor at Crimson Castle.

But with nearly a hundred members in the observation group’s command alone, they could not all leave.

Therefore, before departing, Colonel Fraser specifically held a meeting for the few officers staying behind.

The meeting’s content was about everything that had occurred in the temporary camp and their subsequent action plans.

As an Intelligence Officer turned commander, Colonel Fraser had honed his style of command during ten years of war.

Unlike Marshal Loren, who favored bold moves and fierce tactics, Colonel Fraser valued intelligence-driven battlefield perception and meticulously planned operations.

Although this was his first time fully in charge of leading troops, he had been very focused on intelligence work from the start.

Inside the tent, the Colonel distributed the information he had on hand to his five major officers in charge of troops, sitting at the head, he didn’t waste time with pleasantries but went straight to the point:

“I shall visit Crimson Castle with Major Ron to discuss our position and pre-war preparations with Governor Morphy and Governor Milian.

It won’t take too much time; we will return in at most five days.

But I need to ensure that in my absence, your work in the camp is orderly.

I do not doubt your military qualities, after all, fools could not possibly attain an officer’s rank under Marshal Loren’s command; my sole concern is that misconceptions about the Transia People lead you to the wrong approach when facing them.

You should all have heard of what happened in the camp last night and today; I would like to hear your opinions now.”

“I heard someone chose to shoot himself to suppress the soldiers’ spirit?”

Faced with Fraser’s inquiry, Major Reno Drakan, a young and robust officer, immediately leaned on his knight’s sword and responded:

“If this is true, then the rumors that Transia People do not value life are confirmed; they are so ruthless towards themselves, their attitude towards the lives of others is even more intriguing.”

“Why not just say they are madmen?”