Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 439 Fellow villager, can I borrow something?
Gwen casually smoothed her long white hair, revealing her slender neck.

“Mr. Isaac, is this really going to work? I don’t think the people in town have any intention of accepting us.”

It was Isaac's idea to enter the town. Under Gwen's strict instructions, the resistance fighters did not touch the townspeople's belongings. Instead, they helped them clean the streets and did some small chores.

Even so, their transactions went unnoticed. A few bolder individuals came to take a look, but did not buy or sell anything and simply left.

This greatly discouraged the resistance fighters. They might be able to defeat the Winter Wolves, but they still couldn't gain the approval of these natives.

They were already displaced people, and had seen this kind of thing many times, but they still felt a little sad.

Perhaps Isaac gave them too much hope, and now that it has been dashed, they are in particular pain.

Isaac grinned. "Miss Gwen, don't worry about it. This is part of the plan. Just because they dislike us now doesn't mean they will in the future."

Have you arranged for people to do the promotion?

"Yes."

"That short guy named Leonard?"

"No, it's the Winter Wolf Guard."

Gwen blinked, somewhat confused. "You're confusing me. Why would the Winter Wolf Guard promote us? They certainly won't help us."

“They don’t need to help us. They don’t have to do anything to push people toward the resistance.”

Isaac's voice was somewhat low: "The Moths are able to rebel everywhere not because we have the means to bewitch people, but because we only need to raise the banner of rebellion and the lords will send us followers in an endless stream. If there is no oppression, who would be willing to risk their life to rebel?"

"As for Leonard, you told him what happened, right?"

"Yes, sir, the speech in the tavern got my blood pumping; he was a real manipulator."

Isaac shook his head: "What's stirring up people's hearts is the five-o'-a-pound loaf of bread. He's just stating the facts. Don't worry, the people in town don't want to accept the resistance now, but they'll miss it after we leave."

Gwen nodded, seemingly understanding.

Over the next few days, the resistance fighters went to the remaining towns one by one. They cleaned the streets, helped rebuild houses, and set up stalls for fair trade, but they came up with almost nothing.

People are hostile to them, and no matter how many good deeds they do, they are always viewed with suspicion.

But the resistance fighters did not offer any explanation; they simply went about their business in silence. Even the spies disguised as merchants made no move, allowing the townspeople to unleash their hostility.

And each time, shortly after they left, the Winter Wolves' cavalry would arrive in town, only to find, with grim faces, that they had come up empty-handed.

Even though they were cavalry, and their opponents were resistance troops who could only walk, they were the ones who were at a disadvantage.

The seriousness with which the townspeople questioned them only fueled their anger.

When these Winter Wolf Guard soldiers went out, they were still in their bright armor, but when they returned, not only were they less than half the size, but many of them were also injured.

As for being completely defeated and losing their armor, that goes without saying; very few were properly dressed.

The people in the town didn't understand fighting, but they could still tell who won and who lost.

Before they could even gloat, they were met with a bloody crackdown by the Winter Wolf Guard.

The Winter Wolf Guard might not be able to deal with the resistance, but they could certainly bully their own people.

Without a second thought, they smashed open the doors, tied the people inside with ropes, and dragged them onto horses, leaving trails of blood in their wake. The remaining people were also driven out, trembling in fear before the sabers and muskets.

"You lowly people, you have betrayed the Earl, conspired with those White Ravens to murder Winter Wolf, and murdered your guardian!"

The alpha wolf walked slowly across the square, a new scar appearing on his face, but this time it was not a mark of honor, but of shame.

Behind him were several makeshift wooden posts, on which hung many mangled, bloodied bodies.

Many of them were even mutilated; they had been dragged all the way here, and by the time they reached the square, they were only half-dead, yet they were still alive, groaning intermittently.

"This is the fate of traitors!!"

The soldiers of Winter Wolf shouted a few words in unison, which frightened many townspeople so much that they collapsed to the ground.

The alpha wolf looked at the townspeople hanging upside down, his face grim.

This defeat was too devastating; he had to give Count Bazel an explanation, and the only option was to use these people's heads.

The alpha wolf in the pack thinks that if he shows even the slightest weakness, a new challenger will tear his throat open. He has no choice but to accept this.

Meanwhile, the winter wolves behind them gradually regained their confidence amidst the blood and howls. This was the battlefield they were familiar with, as long as the blood wasn't flowing from their own bodies.

The townspeople's gazes were filled with fear and hatred, but the winter wolves paid them no heed.

In the North, these people are like weeds growing in the wild; they will grow if left alone, and they will also grow if you cut them with a knife. Since their heads are of some use, let's take them.

Even if it's all burned down and wiped out completely, at worst we can just leave some for those white crow refugees.

The North is barren, but it is never short of weeds.

The alpha wolf silently counted the heads hanging on the pole and frowned.

The deputy beside him immediately came over: "Sir?"

"This is not enough, far from enough. What we need is a victory, a great victory. Only in this way can we live up to Lord Bazel's high regard for us."

He glanced at the people kneeling in the square and shook his head: "Go to the other two towns. There are more traitors and more heads there."

The Winter Wolves filed out, their equipment and armor still incomplete, but their morale had been somewhat restored.

They just need to rest and recuperate; the resistance forces have nothing to fear.

The cavalrymen left, leaving behind only a devastated square and wailing residents, with headless corpses scattered everywhere.

After an unknown amount of time, the people of the town helped each other to their feet. They gathered the bodies together and used carts to take them to the cemetery for unified burial.

Most of the corpses were mangled and indistinguishable, and many had severed limbs, making it impossible to piece them back together. Therefore, the only solution was to dig a large pit and pile the remains together.

Blood and flesh mixed with sorrow were buried by shovelful of soil, and every now and then someone would sob.

People stood in front of the pit for a long, long time. This time, there were no speeches, no encouragement, no strong liquor being poured into their mouths, only a muddy mess of blood.

They stood there silently, like wordless tombstones.

(End of this chapter)