Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 447 The Civilization of Refugees Driving Away Sea Serpents

Sea Serpent Island is indeed a place "blessed" by the gods.

This tiny place is a perfect convergence of the four elements of "earth, fire, feng shui"—earth, fire, typhoon, and tsunami—making it a truly blessed location.

Of course, things get even more exciting now.

Inside, there are ghostly temples and vengeful spirits, and rampant black mist; outside, there are colorful, radiant clouds and dust.

From the satellite cloud image, it looks like a clump of mold that has barely squeezed out of the water after being soaked in a stinking ditch. It is surrounded by a ring of black, white, blue, red, green and purple, which looks colorful, but in reality, it is full of filth.

However, the ruler of the sea serpents had no heart to appreciate such a stunning view.

Some were even burning with grief.

In their view, the black mist surrounding the once rapidly expanding ghost temple was shrinking day by day at a visible rate.

To check on the situation at the front, Kenichiro Kishi returned to the Onimyo front.

This former army general, now the chief of staff of the three armed forces and the commander-in-chief of the Sea Serpent, had a gloomy expression.

From the camera secretly filmed from a distance, the defensive line built by the Eastern Xia army can be clearly seen, its steel gleaming coldly in the hazy sky.

This defensive line stretched out in an arc, like a long seal, fastening itself to the westward extension of the black mist. The salient fortresses protruding from the line, like steel nails driven into the black mist, forced it back step by step.

I hadn't seen him for a few days, and Kishimoto Kenichiro seemed to have lost even more weight. His thin fingers gripped the armrests of the seat tightly, his nails digging into the leather.

"Retreating...retreating so fast? I remember yesterday it was still west of the Tamamo River, and today it's already retreated to marker number four?"

"Why isn't the military taking action yet?"

A bespectacled major lowered his voice: "Reporting to the Commander, your 'Special Mobilization Plan' has encountered some resistance at...the military elders' review meeting."

"who is it?"

"Several senior officials believed that such a massacre of the people was too severe and damaged the country's reputation..."

"Crack—!"

The cracking sound interrupted the bespectacled major's report. Kishi Shinichiro slammed the ceramic teacup beside him onto the floor, sending shards and murky tea flying everywhere.

"Baka! A bunch of incredibly stupid idiots!"

"It's the same old trick again! Exactly the same as before! Every crucial moment in the empire's rise, there are always these parasites spouting 'benevolence' and 'decency' who sabotage it from behind! What do they know?! They only know how to recite poetry and talk about romance in teahouses! What the empire needs now is power! Power strong enough to turn the tide and summon heroic spirits!"

"Contact His Majesty! I need to ask the old master to teach them a lesson!"

The major replied cautiously, "Commander, His Excellency is unwell and has been unable to perform his duties for several days..."

"Heh...hehe..."

"No wonder these traitors are jumping around again. They can't blame me for following the example of the sages and punishing them once more!"

Kenichiro Kishi acted quickly, and within half an hour he was back at the military command post.

With a fierce kick, the commander slammed open the door to the command room, his military boots echoing loudly on the metal floor. Behind him were dozens of tired, fanatical, and distorted faces of soldiers.

In this incident known as the "New February 26 Incident," Kenichiro Kishi, relying on his extreme military force, thoroughly purged the small number of left-wing and centrist factions remaining in the military, and completely integrated the forces of the remaining Sea Serpent into his own monopoly.

From now on, he will no longer need to gain support by bowing.

The army's first operation targeted the most densely populated area, the square in front of the capital city hall.

This is the largest refugee camp in Jianghu City, the capital of the Sea Serpent.

The square in front of the capital city hall, an important venue for the Sea Serpent to hold large-scale public events and group gatherings, was once the final destination of the Blue Star Games torch relay. The main torch lit here illuminated the eerie atmosphere of the Sea Serpent Games venue.

However, this so-called symbol of glory and honor has now become a huge and ugly scab covering the heart of the city, wriggling, festering, and oozing filthy pus.

The Sea Serpent's administrative capabilities have always been lacking, or rather, in a country dominated by powerful clans, the living conditions of the lower classes have never been of concern. From the Sea Serpent to the White Eagle, every disaster relief effort is clearly visible to onlookers.

Faced with this massive disaster that has nearly paralyzed the country's administrative capacity, the sea serpent still has no choice but to let the people "save themselves" as much as possible!
Various stained plastic sheets, tents riddled with holes, flattened cardboard boxes, twisted sheet metal and moldy boards salvaged from the ruins... all this garbage was roughly pieced together to form tens of thousands of makeshift shelters that barely provided shelter from the wind and rain.

They spread without any planning, like a kind of malignant fungal carpet, not only devouring every inch of the square, but also extending along the surrounding streets, blocking traffic, invading shops, and even climbing onto the rooftops of some buildings.

The air was murky and stagnant.

The stench of excrement, the rancid smell of unwashed bodies, the acidic odor of rotting garbage, and the pungent, toxic fumes of burning plastic drifting from who-knows-where... these smells stubbornly intertwined, as if forming a tangible, sticky barrier that enveloped the crowd.

Tiny black flying insects swarmed and buzzed among the crowd.

To ward off the slight chill of early spring and heat up the meager amount of food, everything around that could be burned had already been plundered.

The once elegant cherry blossom trees, ginkgo trees, and red maple trees on both sides of the road have been uprooted, leaving only abrupt holes dug out of the soil, like scars dug out of the earth.

Even the wooden signs, door and window frames of the surrounding shops, and even the traditional tatami mats in the nearby houses, were all pried up cleanly.

The crowd, like an ant colony that has lost its nest, struggles to survive in this chaotic junkyard.

On this brand new morning, Kenichiro Kishi's command vehicle stopped in the shadow of the building on the east side of the square.

He wants to personally direct this "sacrifice" operation!
"Let's begin."

"Gentlemen, may your military prowess be abundant!"

The engines of the armored vehicles roared as they rolled through the streets, their heavy footsteps and the clanging of metal instantly drowning out all the noise in the refugee camp.

As troops sealed off the main entrances and exits of the square camp from four directions, the urgent whistles tore through the oppressive air above the square, and a large number of heavily armed soldiers, with bayonets still attached to their weapons, began to press on the refugee camp.

In the square, hundreds of thousands of bewildered and terrified faces looked up at the rapidly closing, cold, reflective shields and gun barrels.

These people are in very poor condition.

During this period, the remaining government of the Sea Serpents has been providing them with food, but the quantity of this food...

According to the official in charge of camp logistics, based on statistics from the past few years, the average annual rice consumption of the Sea Serpent people is about 50 kilograms, or 50,000 grams.

On average, that's 136.99 grams per day.

So, the government is being very kind and is giving you 137 grams every day. That should be more than enough for you to live on, right?

As a result, the vast majority of these people soon became skin and bones from hunger.

Are there any problems with the statistics on sea snakes? Absolutely not!
However, the Sea Serpent Clan's reduced rice consumption is not because they have enough to eat, but because they cannot afford it and have to use other types of food instead.

However, the military government of the Sea Serpent doesn't care about any of that now. That's what the data says, and we have to believe in science!

A colonel in charge of the "recruitment" work came to the command vehicle and reported to Kenichiro Kishi.

"Commander, many of them are very weak, and they even have difficulty standing..."

"If they can't stand up, then use bayonets to make them stand up!"

Chief of Staff Kishi Shin's voice was as cold as ever: "The weak do not deserve to live in an era of imperial prosperity! Those who can walk, let them walk quickly; those who cannot walk... 'dispose of' on the spot, drag them away!"

"My lords, you should understand what a sacred cause we are undertaking. When the Temple of Heroes has fully descended and the immortal legions awaken from their slumber, history will remember this day!"

"Remember that it was we soldiers who offered the most devout sacrifices during the darkest hour of the Empire!"

"Fujita-kun, do you have any objections?"

"N-no..." Fujita's voice trembled slightly.

"Then let's get started! We don't have time to waste!"

Soon, a huge commotion broke out in the square.

The children's shrill cries rang out first, followed by angry curses, groans, wails, shouts, and the sound of chanting scriptures coming from some corners...

Lured by the promise of food in the distance, coaxed by the promise of leaving by boat, threatened by bayonets and guns, and driven by the thugs in the camp who called themselves the "Black Fish Society," the crowd began to slowly move outward in batches, following a predetermined order.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Twelve-year-old Rie, her body hunched over, carried her four-year-old sister Miu on her back, struggling to move forward.

She was wearing an adult coat that was obviously too big and so dirty that its original color was no longer visible. The sleeves were rolled up several times and the hem almost reached her ankles.

Miu, carried on her back, seemed to have a fever; her face was flushed and her breathing was rapid. All Rie could do was follow her mother's instructions before she left, occasionally using a piece of cloth torn from her clothes, dampened with water, to wipe her younger sister's forehead.

"Will Mom... come back?" Miyu asked groggily.

"Yes, Mommy will," Rie whispered to her younger sister. "Mommy went to get the medicine."

She's lying; Mom isn't coming back.

In this hellish environment, a teenage girl has already learned a great deal.

Their mother is very beautiful.

But the beautiful mother was taken away by those people with sticks a few days ago.

Those people are in cahoots with the police; they're the ones in charge of this camp when the police aren't around.

Every time they came before, Mom would always make her take her younger sister out, tie up her long hair, and bring those ugly-looking guys to her "home"—a dark, windowless tent.

Then when they came out, their mother would take out a small handful of beans or snacks for the two sisters to fill their rumbling stomachs.

A few days ago, Mom rushed back and quickly dressed the two sisters in all the clothes she could wear. Then, with one in each hand, she pulled them deeper into the camp, into a more crowded area, and into a low tent.

Inside the tent was a man named Mizuno, about forty years old, with greasy hair and cloudy eyes. He had visited Rie's mother's little house many times before, and each time he looked at his mother, he always had a complicated look in his eyes that Rie couldn't understand.

The mother made the two sisters call him "Uncle Mizuno," and then said to Mizuno in an almost pleading tone, "Please... look after them... don't let those people take them away!"

"please!"

When it was time to leave, her mother cried very hard, even more so than when Rie had been beaten the last time.

She was crying so hard she couldn't speak; she must have been beaten very badly...

The next day, Rie saw from afar that all the tents in the area where she used to live had been brutally pushed down, and men, women and children were being driven away from the square like livestock by soldiers and members of the "Black Fish Society".

This kind of thing happens every day. There are fewer and fewer people in this square, like a huge cake being sliced ​​off piece by piece.

Finally, it was this camp's turn.

"Hurry up, everyone! The temple is distributing food. If we're late, there won't be any left to eat. Let's go!"

The piercing shouts from the loudspeaker echoed repeatedly from the camp entrance, and the crowd struggled to move. As the soldiers used bayonets to pry open the tents, Uncle Mizuno was still trying to force a smile and slip something to the officer-looking man, pleading for mercy.

"Major, Major, I've been working for the Empire! Please do me a favor. These two children are useless; let them go!"

"Baka!!!"

The response he received was a heavy gun butt that slammed down on Mizuno's head. The man didn't even utter a sound before collapsing to the ground, blood quickly seeping from between his hair and soon covering the dirty ground.

A dirty military boot stepped carelessly over the bloodstains, leading the two sisters onto this unknown road.

Rie had to carry her younger sister on her back since she couldn't walk. Although the little girl didn't have much strength, her sister was as light as a doll, and Rie could still carry her.

Along the way, loudspeakers repeatedly urged people to hurry, and those who slowed down or couldn't move forward were ruthlessly beaten.

Rie stumbled along with the crowd. The road was filthy and muddy after the rain. As she walked, her shoes were soaked through, and every step felt like walking on ice.

Only her younger sister's back pressed against her body could give her a little warmth.

Miyu's crying gradually subsided, turning into intermittent sobs.

"Sister...I'm cold...I feel so uncomfortable..."

"Almost there, almost there," Rie repeated mechanically, though she had no idea where she was going.

After walking for more than an hour, a wide cement bridge appeared in front of the crowd.

Opposite is the edge of the black mist of the Ghost Temple.

It was a rolling, heavy, unnatural darkness, like a thick wall blocking the other side of the bridge.

Even during the day, nothing can be seen in the black fog; only a bottomless darkness remains.

The towering black fog churned and swirled, and along the edge of the fog wall, some distorted outlines could be vaguely seen—like trees or telephone poles, but their appearance had completely changed—twisted, elongated, and covered with abnormal protrusions, and they slowly and strangely writhed within the black fog.

Having stayed in the camp for so long, Rie had heard rumors about the black mist. Some said it was inhabited by monsters that devoured the living; others said it was a place where radioactive dust accumulated, and entering it would cause one to rot; still others said it was a sacred place inhabited by the ancient sea serpents, and that the devout would receive protection…

Now, they are being driven straight into that darkness.

Here, it wasn't just their group; there were many more men and women, the elderly and children, who were driven in from all directions and sent batch after batch into the gaping maw of that black mist.

An officer stood on a broken platform, holding a megaphone and shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Citizens of the Empire! Raise your heads! Look ahead! The Empire is at a critical juncture of life and death! Evil invaders are using despicable magic to erode our sacred lands, attempting to utterly destroy our civilization! But—"

His voice rose higher and higher, “The spirits of the Empire have not abandoned us! In the Temple of Souls, the great warriors of the Empire are gathering their strength, waiting to be resurrected and deliver a fatal blow to the enemy!”

"Now, the heroic spirits need your support! They need you to go to the Temple of the Dead and, with your piety, provide strength for the empire's ancient saints!"

The officer waved his free hand wildly, his voice almost cracking: "This is a glorious mission! It is the glory of you chosen ones!"

"Go! The glory of the empire awaits you!"

"The Sea Serpent Empire for half a year! His Majesty the Emperor for half a year!"

No matter how much he shouted, even the most apathetic citizens felt fear in the face of such a horrific scene. They began to hesitate, to shrink back, and to stagger backward, only to be met with a merciless beating.

Fists, clubs, gun butts, boots, and cold, hard bayonets.

The officer roared hoarsely into the loudspeaker, "You cowards! Hold your heads high, advance, advance!"

"The Empire has nurtured you; now is the time to repay it! All of you, advance—!!!"

The crowd began to shove and crawl forward once again. Screams rose and fell, interspersed with a few sharp gunshots.

Miyu was terrified by the sounds and squirmed on Rie's back, crying out, "Sister! Sister! I'm scared! I want my mommy! Waaaaaah—!"

The child's crying attracted several soldiers who were beating a group of people nearby.

They looked to be no more than twenty years old, their faces bearing the sallow complexion of long-term stress and malnutrition, as well as a distorted excitement fueled by violence.

"Hey, there's a little girl over here, crying pretty loudly."

A soldier with a face full of pustules squeezed in front of Rie, his eyes greedily sweeping over the girl's face and body.

Rie's mother took good care of her, making sure she didn't go hungry. Compared to the other thin women around her, she still retained a youthful beauty that was more in line with the Sea Serpent people's aesthetic.

"Huh? You're actually quite good-looking!"

The soldier with the pus-filled face licked his lips, roughly parted the crowd, and grabbed Rie's slender arm.

"This little girl is quite good. It would be a waste to just let her go in like this. Since she's going to be 'used' anyway, why don't we 'use' her for a bit first and not let her go to waste!"

A few strange laughs came from among the soldiers.

Before Rie could even understand what was happening, a large face was right in front of her, breathing out hot breath filled with tobacco and bad breath, making Rie dizzy. Then, the soldier brutally tore off the strip of cloth binding Miu, grabbed Miu's clothes, and ripped his sister off Rie's back!
"No—! Miyu! Give it back to me! Give my sister back to me!!" Rie screamed shrilly, desperately reaching out her hand, but the pockmarked soldier held her tightly, unable to move.

The younger sister let out a heart-wrenching cry, one hand still clutching her older sister's clothes, the other hand flailing wildly, her two little legs kicking in vain, and she kicked a soldier in the forehead.

The gleaming bayonet drew an arc and pierced through Miyu's body.

"Uh……!"

Miyu let out an extremely short, almost inaudible breath, her small body instantly stiffening, her big eyes staring blankly at the gray sky.

The next second, the soldier raised both hands, holding the bayonet and the rag doll-like clothing worn by Miyu high above his head, brandishing it as if to show off, and then forcefully flung it towards the river—

thump!
The small, frail figure traced an arc in the air before falling into the murky river, splashing up a tiny, insignificant ripple.

Time seemed to stand still in Rie's perception.

All the surrounding sounds—cries, shouts, gunshots, and the inaudible hissing of the black mist that seemed to echo in my mind—faded away like the receding tide, becoming distant and indistinct background noise.

The girl was held in the soldier's arms. She turned her head with difficulty, her pupils dilating rapidly.

All that remained in sight was the flowing river and the ripples on its surface that were rapidly disappearing.

A poster, printed at an unknown time, floated downstream, its cover bearing a line that seemed particularly fitting for the occasion.

"Beautiful, advanced, safe, and civilized!"

(End of this chapter)