Don’t raise unruly people in extreme cold weather

Chapter 835

The arrival of the floating city plunged the garrison and officials of Malsel into unprecedented tension and panic.

This huge aerial fortress slowly descended over Martha, casting a shadow over the entire city like a giant beast looking down on its prey.

The residents of Marcel looked up, their hearts filled with uneasiness and awe.

The garrison and officials are more aware of what the arrival of this floating city means - the power of the empire is approaching, and their "independent kingdom" is about to face severe tests.

Since the advent of Doomsday Winter, although Malthael is still nominally a part of the Victoria Empire, it has actually gradually slipped away from the control of the empire.

The extremely cold climate cuts off most of Marcel's connections with the mainland empire, allowing the officials and garrisons here to become kings in their own right to a certain extent, enjoying near-dictatorial power.

They relied on the exchange of materials with the North to barely maintain the operation of the city, but deep down they had long regarded Marcel as their own private territory, and even began to fantasize about one day being able to completely break free from the constraints of the Empire.

However, fantasy is one thing, and actually asking them to openly rebel against the empire is another.

Although the Doomsday Winter has plunged the Old World and other countries into extreme cold, the Victorian Empire remains standing.

The colonies in the North, the New World, and the strong industrial base in the Empire itself enabled the Empire to maintain its strength in this global disaster.

The existence of the floating fleet and steam knights makes any resistance force daunting.

Malthael's officials and garrison officers knew very well that the power of the Empire was far beyond their ability to contend with.

What's more, the fact that Malthael was able to barely make ends meet during the cold winter was largely due to the exchange of supplies with the North.

Once there is a complete break with the Empire, this lifeline will be cut off and Malthael will fall into an even more difficult situation.

Therefore, although they were dissatisfied with the Empire's control, the idea of ​​betraying the Empire never really took root in their minds.

And now, the arrival of the floating city is undoubtedly a huge shock to them.

This behemoth is not only a symbol of imperial power, but also a silent threat.

Its existence seems to remind everyone in Malsel that the empire is still powerful, and any attempt to escape control will be ruthlessly dealt with.

Not only is the floating city capable of launching devastating attacks, its size and weight alone are enough to raze the entire Malsel to the ground.

Faced with such a threat, the officials and garrison officers of Marcel had to put aside their arrogance and luck and hastily organize a welcome.

Although they did not know that the person in the floating city was an extremely noble being like the Imperial Regent Perfecto, they knew that the person who could command the floating city was no ordinary person.

Therefore, they were almost like being whipped, hurriedly tidying up their appearance and lining up to greet them, fearing that the slightest negligence would bring about a catastrophic disaster.

The arrival of the floating city is not only a deterrent to Marcel, but also a reaffirmation of the authority of the empire.

It silently declared: no matter how raging the doomsday winter was, the empire still controlled this land, and any attempt to escape its control would be ruthlessly suppressed.

Marcel's officials and garrison officers had already lined up at the city gate, their faces filled with tension and anxiety, some of them even kept wiping the cold sweat from their foreheads.

Although they tried their best to remain calm, their slightly trembling hands and anxious glances from time to time revealed their inner panic.

The leading Governor Marcel, a slightly plump, serious-looking middle-aged man, straightened his dress, took a deep breath, and tried to make himself look more calm. However, when he looked up at the towering floating city, his throat tightened involuntarily.

He whispered to the garrison commander beside him: "The one coming this time may be a big shot from the empire. We must not make any mistakes."

The commander nodded, his expression equally solemn, his hand unconsciously pressing on the sword at his waist, as if this could bring him a sense of security.

A flying barge flew out of the floating city and then landed on the open space outside the city of Marcel.

As the hatch opened, Perfecto stepped off the barge, dressed in a heavy, luxurious gown and furs.

Behind her followed a team of fully armed steam knights, their metal armor flashing coldly in the sun, and every step made a heavy roar, as if reminding the people of Marcel: the power of the empire is unmatched.

Governor Marcel and the garrison commander looked at each other and felt even more uneasy.

They didn't know Perfect, but judging from her attire and demeanor, it was obvious that she was someone extraordinary.

Just as they were hesitating about how to speak, a servant beside Perfectcot stepped forward and announced loudly: "The saint blessed by the All-Father, the savior of the world, the one who rang the doomsday bell, the regent of the Victoria Empire, the pioneer and protector of the North, the ruler of the entire North, the protector of all northerners, the great chief respected by all northern tribes, the builder of Chenobog, the last dragon slayer, the slayer of evil gods, the vice president of the Royal Academy of Sciences of the Victoria Empire, the founder of the Northern Branch of the Royal Academy of Sciences, the honorary grand master of the White Bear Knights, the honorary grand master of the Iron Fire Knights, the brightest pearl of Langdon, the conqueror of the sky, the leader of the times, the northern pioneer Count Perfectcot Brandlis has arrived."

When they heard the word "regent", Governor Marcel and the garrison commander turned pale instantly, not to mention the series of important titles that Perfectcott had, which made their scalps tingle.

They never expected that the empire would send such a high-ranking and powerful figure.

The Governor stepped forward quickly, bowed deeply, and said with a tremor in his voice: "Respected Regent, welcome to Marcel. Your coming is our supreme honor."

His tone was extremely respectful, even humbly.

The garrison commander followed suit and saluted in a standard military salute. His voice was loud but could not hide his nervousness: "The Marcel garrison salutes you, Regent!"

Perficot nodded slightly, his eyes swept across the crowd coldly, his tone was calm but with unquestionable majesty: "The Empire has always been concerned about the situation in Marcel. In the cold winter of the end of the world, it is not easy for you to maintain the operation of the city."

There was no warmth in her voice, as if she was just stating an insignificant fact.

The Governor-General responded quickly, his tone flattering: "Your Excellency the Regent is too kind. This is all thanks to the Empire! We always keep our duties in mind and will never slack off in the slightest."

After he finished speaking, he secretly glanced at Perfecto's face, trying to read some information from her expression, but her face remained as cold as ice.

Her eyes swept across the walls and streets of Marcel, and her tone was cold but contained a hint of unquestionable command: "Lead the way, I need to see the current situation of Marcel myself."

The Governor nodded and bowed, stepped aside to make way for him, and said with fear in his tone: "Yes, Regent! Please follow me. We have prepared a welcoming banquet for you. I hope you can come."

There was obvious flattery in his voice, and he was afraid that there was anything wrong with his arrangements.

Perfect didn't respond, but just walked forward, his steps steady and indifferent.

Her steam knights followed closely behind, the sound of their metal-armored footsteps echoing in the silent streets, as if every step was beating on the hearts of the officials and garrison officers of Malsel.

The garrison commander whispered to the governor, "This regent seems difficult to deal with." The governor smiled bitterly and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead: "More than difficult to deal with... every word she says seems to be hitting us. Next, we must act carefully and must not let her catch any handle."

(End of this chapter)