Don’t raise unruly people in extreme cold weather

Chapter 872

At midnight, in the desert ravaged by a blizzard, Azhar led three hundred elite warriors and approached the Crescent Tribe like a ghost.

The warriors wrapped their weapons with strips of cloth soaked in sulfur to prevent glare; the camels' hooves were wrapped in felt, making them almost silent as they moved.

They first used poisoned darts to eliminate the outer sentries, then quickly dispersed and sneaked into the camp.

The Crescent Moon Tribe is now immersed in a rare warmth.

The small mobile energy tower emitted an orange-red light, dispelling the chill within the tribe.

The old people sat around the tower and took a nap, and the children smiled for the first time in the cold winter.

No one noticed that death was approaching in the wind and snow outside the tribal camp.

"For the tribe!" Azhar's roar cut through the night sky.

Three hundred warriors attacked at the same time, their sharp scimitars flashing in the snow.

The warriors of the Crescent Tribe rushed to fight, but it was too late - most of them were chopped down in a pool of blood before they could even pick up their weapons.

When the Imperial patrol arrived, they saw only the mess on the ground and the crying Crescent Moon people.

The energy tower had long disappeared, leaving only messy camel hoof prints on the snow, leading deep into Blackrock Mountain.

Word of the successful raid spread like wildfire among the tribes.

The desert in winter appears calm on the surface, but undercurrents are surging secretly.

Other kings and chiefs began to hold frequent secret meetings, with greed gleaming in their eyes.

"If Azhar can do it, why can't we?" a chieftain stood up and slammed the table at a secret meeting.

Soon, several well-equipped tribal cavalry began to be active in the desert.

They were elusive and specialized in attacking the supply convoys of Imperial patrols, stealing food and fuel before immediately disappearing in the wind and snow.

Even more cunning are the spies who disguise themselves as hunters.

They wandered around the tribe with the energy tower, deliberately showing the weapons at their waists but remained motionless.

These vague threats made the tribes that received rewards from the empire live in constant fear, and they had to allocate more manpower to protect the precious energy towers.

Behind all these actions, there is an invisible hand controlling them.

The kings and chiefs never showed up in person, but secretly instigated those herdsmen who were dissatisfied with the empire through their confidants.

"Go ahead and rob them," they said, "The imperial people won't care about this little loss."

Behind these seemingly scattered attacks, there is an invisible hand controlling them.

The kings and chiefs hid cunningly behind the scenes. They were like a group of wolves hiding in the dark, testing the empire's reaction while sharpening their claws.

The wind in the desert is getting colder and colder, and the conspiracy in the dark may erupt at any time.
-
In the meeting hall of the floating city, after listening to Radcliffe's report, Perfecto tapped the tabletop rhythmically with his slender fingers. Every crisp sound made Governor Radcliffe, who was standing below him, unconsciously tense his back.

“So,” Perfecto said finally, his voice creepily soft, “our friends the King thought it would be fun to play hide and seek in the snow?”

Radcliffe's Adam's apple rolled: "My Lord Regent, they are indeed becoming more and more presumptuous. Yesterday, another transport team was attacked and lost——"

"I don't care how much material is lost." Perfect stood up suddenly and walked slowly towards the sand table. "They think they can test the bottom line of the empire with these little fights?" The sneer on the corner of her mouth made the temperature in the room seem to drop a few degrees. "It's so naive that it makes people laugh." Colonel Valken straightened his back unconsciously, and the heels of his military boots touched lightly. When Perfect turned to him, the coldness in her eyes made this veteran who had experienced many battles shudder.

"Colonel Valken," she said, her voice returning to its uneasy calm, "I remember you suggested last time that we teach these savages a lesson they won't forget?"

"Yes, Regent." Valken's voice was slightly hoarse with excitement. "My troops are ready at any time."

Perfect nodded slightly, turned around and looked at the snow outside the window. "Then do it." She raised her hand and made an elegant beheading gesture. "No need for warnings, no need for negotiations. I want to see their camp reduced to scorched earth, and hear their wails echoing in the desert."

She turned around, and the cold light in her eyes made everyone bow their heads: "Let them understand with their blood what is meant by 'the patience of the empire'."

The clarion call for the Empire's revenge sounded at dawn.

Valken's iron torrent did not surge forward as expected, but broke up into smaller pieces, lurking among the sand dunes like poisonous scorpions in the desert.

Twelve well-equipped task forces attacked quietly under the cover of morning mist. Each team was equipped with the latest automatic rifles and steam knights with special support from Perfect.

At noon, the Canglang tribe cavalry that had attacked the supply line were returning with a full load.

The young soldier in charge was still playing with the stolen imperial pocket watch when he suddenly heard the sound of orderly mechanical operation coming from behind the sand dunes.

"Take cover--" Before he could finish his warning, thirty muskets simultaneously spewed out deadly flames.

The sound of lead bullets penetrating the felt was like hail, and more than twenty riders fell off their horses in an instant.

The survivors turned their horses in horror, only to see four steam knights approaching from all directions.

These three-meter-tall steel giants spewed out white mist, and the hydraulic devices at their joints made terrifying hisses.

The leading knight raised his right arm, and the barrel of the rotary machine gun began to rotate to warm up.

"For the Empire." A cold declaration came from behind the visor.

The next morning, a caravan passing by saw a horrifying sight—seventeen corpses were hung on wind-eroded pillars with iron chains, and the coagulated blood beads sparkled like rubies in the morning light.

The imperial eagle emblem was branded on the chest of each corpse with a red-hot iron, and the smell of burnt flesh lingered in the cold wind for a long time.

At the same time, the Empire won over those tribes that had remained loyal, promising them more food rations and the use of energy towers.

The warriors of these tribes were familiar with the desert terrain, and they led the imperial army to attack the camps of the hostile tribes.

Overnight, the three tribes involved in the provocation were uprooted, their chiefs were captured alive, tied to horses and paraded through the streets for public display.

When the news reached Blackrock Mountain, the surviving chiefs finally panicked.

"How dare they..." a chieftain said tremblingly, "We were just testing them, but they just wiped out our entire clan!"

Another chieftain slumped on the blanket, his face pale: "Vulcan's troops left no one alive...even women and children were not spared..."

Azhar stood in the shadows, his fists clenched and rattling.

He thought that the Empire would negotiate first and then suppress them, just like it did last time, giving them room to maneuver.

But this time, the empire directly tore up the rules and declared in the bloodiest way: Any provocation will result in extinction.

(End of this chapter)