Chapter 40: Turbulent Times

The chaotic era is not our fault, yet it begins with us?

Leonidas’s mind reeled.

For a moment, he stood frozen, not even registering Alicia’s complaints about the terrible food as she got up to argue with the innkeeper for a refund.

He just stared at the rough white bread in front of him, his chest feeling as if a block of ice were lodged inside—heavy and cold.

…Did we do something wrong?

No, we didn’t!

First came successive poor harvests, then the heavy snowfall.

Those damn nobles only knew how to squeeze taxes ever harder—did they ever care about the common people’s survival?

If we didn’t rebel, we’d have starved to death!

We just wanted to live.

What was wrong with that?!

We killed those bloodsucking nobles, opened their granaries, and distributed the grain to the starving…

What was wrong with that?!

But…

Leonidas’s throat felt dry.

He lowered his head, staring blankly at his slightly trembling fists.

Even within the Freedom Army, not everyone adhered to the iron rule of “do not harm civilians.”

To counter the Noble Alliance, Grand General Spartacus had accepted all comers, absorbing many with dubious backgrounds—some former bandits and outlaws.

Occasionally, civilians did suffer.

…Forget it.

I’ll tighten military discipline later and rein in my men.

For now, I have to find food to survive.

He shut his eyes tightly.

When he opened them again, the brief wavering had been suppressed by a near-obsessive stubbornness.

He grabbed the cold bread, took a fierce bite, and chewed forcefully.

If that woman was right… then no matter how many Noble Alliance troops come, we’ll just crush them all!

As long as we can push south, break the Imperial Capital, and overthrow this rotten empire, a vast future awaits us!

“Big Brother?”

The guard noticed Leonidas’s long silence and shifting expression.

He leaned in, lowering his voice.

“Big Brother, don’t listen to that woman’s nonsense. She hasn’t gone far. If you give the word, I’ll go…”

He made a slicing motion across his throat, eyes glinting.

“Sit down.”

Leonidas snapped back to reality and shot him an exasperated look.

“Can you think of something besides killing? She made some good points.”

“Huh? Big Brother, you…”

The guard’s eyes went wide in surprise.

“Her words reminded me.”

Leonidas leaned forward, covertly scanning the room.

“The nobles won’t take this lying down. We might face an even tougher situation. We need to prepare.”

Fortunately, the other diners didn’t seem to notice him.

Best to leave quickly, finish the reconnaissance, and return.

“Which of those nobles can beat us? The Grand General is right—if we stay united, we’re invincible!” the burly man muttered.

“Mm.”

Leonidas gave a noncommittal grunt, then gestured with his chin at the large bread in the guard’s hand.

“But first, finish your meal. This stuff’s expensive. If you waste any… military discipline!”

The burly man grinned innocently.

“Big Brother underestimates me!”

With that, he opened his mouth wide and stuffed the remaining half loaf in whole.

His cheeks puffed up like a hamster’s as he chewed laboriously, making muffled grunts.

Seeing that, a faint smile flickered in Leonidas’s eyes, but the corners of his mouth quickly dropped.

Sigh.

There are plenty of honest, simple men like him in the Freedom Army.

I just hope they don’t die on the battlefield.

…

“Young Lord, something still feels off.”

Even after leaving the inn some distance behind, Andrew kept a wary eye on their surroundings from horseback.

One hand held the reins, the other rested on his sword hilt.

“Back at the inn, I felt like someone was watching us from the shadows.”

The girl waved dismissively and urged her horse forward.

“Andrew, you’re too tense. We’re deep in our own territory. Do you think enemies can just fly in or dig through the ground?”

“Hard to say. The patrols can’t completely seal the border. Could be enemy spies.”

“Relax! My Cheka isn’t wasting their pay. If enemy spies can infiltrate this far, I’ll go back and…”

Before she could finish, the bushes by the roadside rustled.

A figure darted out and dropped to one knee before her horse.

“Excellency! Urgent intelligence!”

The man, still catching his breath, reported rapidly: “We’ve confirmed Freedom Army personnel disguised as civilians have infiltrated the domain. We’re still tracking their exact movements.”

“…Huh?”

Alicia’s body lurched, and she nearly slid off the saddle.

“Wait, what?!”

She fumbled for the reins to steady herself.

“What the hell are you doing?! You actually let spies in?! Did I waste my two hundred Cuini budget on nothing?!”

She then unleashed a torrent of abuse, so foul that even Andrew found it hard to listen.

The unfortunate agent could only bow his head in silence.

What could he do?

The Lord had placed high hopes on the Cheka, spared no expense, and paid them wages unmatched in the entire empire.

Yet they’d still failed at the most critical task—counter-infiltration.

He deserved the scolding.

And those bastards—when they’re buddy-buddy, it’s all “brothers,” but when it’s time to take heat, they disappear faster than anyone.

He’d lost the rock-paper-scissors and got stuck taking the fall…

A bunch of jerks!

“So, how far have they gotten?”

Alicia asked, her throat dry from shouting.

She took a gulp from her canteen and glared at him.

“What about the Firearms Research Institute? Has it been exposed?”

If the institute’s secrets were leaked, she’d make Aijier spit out those two hundred Cuini when she got back!

“Not yet. We’ve reinforced security at all critical areas.”

The agent quickly reported.

“The Director-General has ordered a covert sweep across the entire domain for suspicious persons.”

“…Understood.”

Alicia exhaled in relief and rubbed her aching temples.

“That inn we just left seemed suspicious. Make sure it’s checked. And tell Mr. Aijier I’m very dissatisfied with this failure. I hope you all learn from this. If there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed.”

“Yes!”

The agent breathed a sigh of relief—at least the pay cut wasn’t coming out of his pocket.

He saluted, then quickly disappeared into the roadside bushes.

As it turned out, the Cheka wasn’t the only thing troubling Alicia today.

Xindeli’s firearm development wasn’t going smoothly either.

After the last test’s barrel explosion, Xindeli had made improvements.

But his approach was a bit crude—thicken the barrel and reduce the powder charge.

His words: “This time, even if it wants to blow up, it can’t!”

Alicia took the sample eagerly.

Her arm dropped like a stone, and she nearly fell over!

The thing weighed at least twenty kilograms.

Forget aiming—just holding it was a struggle.

It wasn’t a firearm; it was a miniature cannon!

Her dream of forming a firearm squad anytime soon was dashed again.

The road up the firearm tech tree was long.

So, here I am, also a transmigrator.

Why don’t I have any other golden fingers?

Even a system would do—just complete tasks, earn points, trade for firearm blueprints.

No need to worry about production capacity or craftsmanship.

With enough points, any blueprint is available.

With blueprints, anything can be built—crank out tanks, planes, cannons even in the Middle Ages!

Why can’t I be the protagonist of a power fantasy?

That’s the trend—turn off your brain, just feel good, kill, kill, kill!

(Actually, me—the author—not writing a power fantasy is just asking for trouble.)

But not everything was a loss.

Xindeli was certainly an odd genius.

Though he was far from a “lightweight firearm,” the repeated barrel explosions gave him inspiration.

He’d tinkered together a new toy.

He carefully produced a black iron canister.

This unassuming object seemed extraordinarily dangerous.

“Excellency, this is an explosive pot. Just light the fuse, throw it at the enemy’s feet, and it’ll blow a fully armored knight to pieces!”

Hearing that, Andrew silently backed away a few steps, eyeing the canister warily.

The girl immediately broke into a grin.

A bomb?

Nice!

Bombs are great for defending cities!

She even slyly suggested to Xindeli that he wrap it in cloth strips and pack it with iron filings, shrapnel, and pebbles.

That way, the explosion would send fragments flying everywhere.

Xindeli’s eyes lit up.

He immediately thought of carving grooves into the canister’s shell, making it break into smaller pieces more easily upon detonation.

“Didn’t know you had such a nasty streak!” the girl cackled slyly.

“Where, where? Not as nasty as you, Excellency!”

Xindeli rubbed his hands together eagerly, as if itching to start experimenting.

Andrew watched the two of them and felt a chill run down his spine.

Two devious minds, perfectly in sync.

The girl waved her hand grandly and pulled out the hundred Cuini she’d skimmed last time, ordering him to rush production of a large batch of bombs.

Leaving the workshop, the girl was visibly in better spirits, even humming a tune.

But before she could enjoy it long, another agent appeared.

“Lord and Master! His Highness urgently summons you to return to Lide’an City’s council hall immediately!”

“What’s wrong?”

Alicia’s humming stopped abruptly, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Did the enemy attack?”

“It seems the main house received a direct order from the Imperial Capital.”

The agent’s voice was clearly anxious.

“Please return at once, Lord and Master!”

A direct order from the Imperial Capital…

The girl had a good idea what it was about.

“Andrew! Let’s head back now!”

In the spring of Empire Year 422, the Senate could no longer conceal the large-scale peasant uprising in the empire’s north.

In the Emperor’s name, they issued a mobilization order to all nobles, publicly permitting them to conscript private soldiers without limit to suppress the so-called Freedom Army.

==========

Just started the new year, been busy.

Sorry for the unstable updates…