Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 471 The Fall of the Empire

The collapse of the empire began with the news of Karen's death.

The news initially circulated only among high-ranking military officers, who found it somewhat unbelievable.

A second message quickly followed: Duke Raymond has surrendered to the Emerald Federation.

This time, the order in the military camp collapsed in a few breaths, and the defense line that could barely be maintained was as if its skeleton had been removed.

Kalen still has an heir, but continuing to hold on seems pointless.

On the third night, the first complete unit withdrew from its position without authorization and surrendered to the Emerald Federation.

That was like a signal, and then the rout turned into a torrent.

The knights no longer marched in procession, but scattered in twos and threes, running back along whatever roads they remembered, or simply turning southeast.

They no longer cared about the empire's borders, only about where they could survive.

The empire became a land without masters, and the cities that were once under the control of the central administrative region fell silent one after another.

The Jade Federation did not waste this opportunity.

The board's directive was simple: efficiency is the only consideration, regardless of cost.

The Federation's siege force advanced along the old Empire's main road.

That wasn't the formation of a legion marching, but rather a disposal team composed of alchemists, accountants, and knights.

The heavy alchemy wagon moved slowly in the middle of the road, its carriages reinforced with riveted steel plates and the sides engraved with the symbols of various guilds.

When they arrived at the first town that refused to surrender, they neither besieged it nor tried to persuade it to surrender.

The alchemist opened the sealed valve on the carriage, releasing the prepared alchemical poison gas along the wind direction from above.

The toxic fog slowly spread along the street, flowing along the base of the walls and seeping into window cracks and drains.

A knight guarding the city had just rung the alarm bell, but after only two rings, he collapsed in the tower.

On the street, a merchant was pushing a cart half full of goods and trying to escape, but he fell at a corner and never got up again.

In less than fifteen minutes, only alchemical gases remained in the air, slowly settling down in the entire town.

The building remains as it was, the warehouse doors are open, and all the goods on the shelves are still there.

Next to enter the city was the takeover team.

Wearing filtering masks, they inventoried assets, sealed land deeds, and directly incorporated the still-intact cities into the federal register.

If the Federation encounters a fortress that refuses to surrender, its approach is even more direct.

Thousands of refugees were driven to the outskirts of the city.

These people had been injected with unstable alchemical potions beforehand, leaving them sluggish and stiff-footed.

A young refugee stopped at the foot of the city wall, seemingly regaining his senses briefly. He looked up at the wall, his lips slightly parted, but no sound came out.

The next moment, the whip behind him fell, and he was pushed forward, squeezing towards the base of the city wall along with the others.

The explosion began when the first body hit the city wall.

Flesh and stone flew together, and the gap was forcibly torn open in a very short time.

The fortress's defenses were not breached, but rather worn down.

Behind all this, Mammon began to move forward.

Its body lay across the plain, and the vibrations it caused as it moved made the ground seem to be repeatedly crushed.

As it approached the first fortress, the defenders were still trying to close the steel gates.

The next moment, a piercing screeching sound tore through the air.

The heavy gate deformed on its own in the strong magnetic field, the steel beams twisted and broke, and were forcibly stripped of their original structure, shooting into the city like an out-of-control projectile.

Metal components from the tower were torn off and crashed into the plaza.

The cannons began to go out of control during the calibration phase. Some cannon barrels were forcibly twisted off course, while others exploded on the spot, with fragments flying in the opposite direction and overturning entire sections of the city wall.

The first to fall were not those standing on the city walls.

Instead, they were knights wearing armor.

In that region, metal no longer obeys human will.

The armor rapidly contracted under the influence of gravity, the joints were stretched, and the bones made cracking sounds as they could not bear the weight.

Before some people could even draw their swords, they were knocked to the ground by their own protective gear.

The longsword flew out of his hand, changed direction in mid-air, and pierced through the wielder's chest in reverse.

Raymond's flag was always at the front of the procession.

He led the federal army through the provinces he had once ruled, expertly pointing out roads, supply points, and which cities were best suited for direct takeover and which could be treated as expendable resources.

Mammon advanced slowly from behind.

There is no need to send troops to clean up the areas it passes through.

This army, led by Mammon, guided by Raymond, and bathed in alchemical poison gas, traversed the heart of the Empire at an almost irrational speed.

The outline of the capital city has already appeared on the horizon.

In that city, there was no one left who could issue a truly effective command.

…………

Crystal Rock City, the council chamber of the highest board of directors is suspended in the air.

Clement, the chairman of the Bihui Guild, picked up his wine glass, swirling it gently between his fingers, and turned his gaze to the painting in the center of the round table.

In the picture, Mammon's enormous body is slowly moving across the plain.

“It looks better than the figures on paper.” Clement said casually. “I originally thought it would take a month to digest Karen’s legion, but now it seems that even a day is a slowdown.”

When he said that, it was as if he were simply commenting on an investment return that exceeded expectations.

Isabella, the president of the Silver Disk Guild, did not look up. She was cutting a small piece of foie gras with a silver knife, her movements extremely elegant.

“We have seriously underestimated what our ancestors left us.” She put the piece of foie gras in her mouth, chewed it gently, and then continued.

"But since even Karen has become fertilizer, then Louis's Red Tide Territory in the north... is at best just a bit tougher dry rations."

Her tone was gentle, but it left no room for compromise.

A few low laughs rang out from around the round table.

Detailed intelligence has arrived from the front lines: the Imperial Army's lines are being wiped out piece by piece at Mammon's feet.

The first fortress lost its gates seventeen breaths after contact with the magnetic field, the main cannon exploded twenty-nine breaths later, and the city wall structure became unstable thirty-four breaths later...

“They didn’t even have time to mount an effective counterattack.” One director glanced at the timeline, his tone clearly impatient. “From entering the area of ​​effect to complete incapacitation, it took an average of no more than half an hour.”

He raised his glass, as if to confirm some insignificant data point.

"The Empire's fighting style is too outdated."

"They were still trying to maintain their formation, and the result was an exquisite plating."

"Raymont's defection was an unexpected bonus. He is a high-quality management talent who is familiar with the old system and is pragmatic enough. He was brought in at a low cost and with a short return cycle."

"It's more cost-effective than training new people."

The conversation then naturally veered toward the next item on the agenda.

Some mentioned food shortages, others security issues, as if the entire empire was already theirs. "The migration of low-skilled labor," Isabella said calmly, flipping through the ledger. "If guided properly, it's enough to fill the mining gaps for the next five to ten years."

The scene shifted, and the capital city appeared old and gloomy in the night, a stark contrast to the light of Crystal Rock City.

They began to discuss the ever-increasing number of refugees within the empire.

“That place is too old.” Isabella glanced up. “Maintenance costs are high, and its symbolic value has long since depreciated. Once Mammon is there and has leveled the foundation, I will personally press the button for directional demolition.”

Clement continued, "Tear down the palace and build the largest magic stone and futures trading center on the entire continent on the original site. Turn that throne that has been in place for thousands of years into a counter for merchants to bid on."

He paused for a moment, his tone carrying an undisguised hint of pleasure.

"We want future historians to understand that what ended the August family was not the sword of some hero, but a settled account."

The laughter around the round table was no longer restrained this time.

"For greed."

"For an empire that has no value to inherit."

The crystal glasses were raised, and the crisp clinking sound echoed in the quiet council chamber.

Finally, someone casually started a small gambling game on the table, with chips being pushed around and numbers constantly changing.

The stakes are simple.

Louis Calvin could last several hours against Mammon.

In their eyes, this lord who possessed the largest territory was no match for them.

"It seems our previous caution was somewhat unnecessary, and our assessment of Louis needs to be revised. Continuing to treat him as a variable will only slow things down."

“That’s true.” Clement nodded.

…………

The city walls of the capital city gleamed pale in the setting sun; now, they had lost their sharpness, leaving only a sense of weight and antiquity.

Standing on the plain outside the city, Raymond looked at the stone wall that had stood for thousands of years and had a strange feeling.

It wasn't as indestructible as one might imagine; it was more like a piece of dried bone that would crumble with just a few taps.

Mammon’s enormous body lay across the plain, like a mountain range lifted off the ground.

As it slowly straightened up, its diamond-structured spine rose high into the sky, completely blocking out the sunlight.

The shadows swept across the city walls, over the towering towers of the palace, and over the already dilapidated square.

This was an unequal confrontation.

The last ones still standing on the city wall were Karen's son and a royal guard legion.

His voice was hoarse, but he still gave the order to fire a volley.

The crossbow bolts leave the bowstring, but the moment they fly, they begin to deviate.

Mammon opened his mouth.

It was not a giant mouth in the conventional sense, but a cavity made up of polyhedral diamond structures.

Gravity was redefined at that moment, and the metal on the city wall began to emit a deep hum.

The steel crossbows were the first to detach from their anchors, forcibly ripped from the battlements. Then came the longswords, spears, and the heavy armor firmly fastened to their bodies.

The defenders died before they could even let out a complete scream.

The armor was stretched and deformed, and a piercing cracking sound came from the joints. Flesh and blood were crushed and churned inside the steel.

People and equipment were dragged off the city wall and torn into indistinguishable shapes in mid-air.

Black iron filings mixed with blood mist were sucked into that gaping maw.

The city gates of the capital city lost their shape in the next few breaths.

The heavy metal components collapsed instantly, like crumpled paper.

This ancient capital, which had lasted for thousands of years, was completely defenseless before it could put up a decent resistance.

High in the sky, the Federation's forward command platform hovered above the capital.

Duke Raymond stood at the edge of the platform, looking down at the familiar yet unfamiliar city below.

His cloak fluttered in the wind, his fingertips slowly caressed the ruby ​​ring, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.

“I should have done this a long time ago,” he said, his tone filled with undisguised glee. “The bloodline of the August family has long since rotted. Clinging to those false glories will only drag us to our graves.”

He turned his head to look at General Batur, the Federal Front Commander beside him: "Gold and power are the only things that last."

General Batur had a cigar in his mouth, the embers flickering in the wind.

“There are many valuable things in this city,” he said slowly. “Antiques, books, works of art… they will all be sent to the Federation’s warehouse tonight.”

He paused here, casually exhaling a puff of smoke: "As for that guy named Louis..."

Raymond's smile vanished in that instant.

His gaze turned cold, and his fingers unconsciously tightened, causing the ruby ​​on his ring to sway slightly.

“Thieves from the North, using some underhanded methods, stole the territory and glory that rightfully belonged to me.” Raymond’s voice gradually became sharp.

"Once we've digested the capital, I'll send Mammon eastward, flatten his Red Tide Territory, and make him kneel and work for the Federation."

General Batur chuckled softly.

"High-end alchemical slaves," he commented. "Perhaps that's a good use."

Before they could finish speaking, the previously orderly marching column below the platform suddenly stirred, and the horses simultaneously let out low neighs.

Raymond frowned and instinctively gripped the platform railing.

Mammon stopped what he was doing, and the imperial city gate, which had been flying in mid-air, crashed down.

The enormous creature, which had been focused on eating, was interrupted. It slowly raised its head, and its diamond-shaped head turned towards a direction outside the capital.

That is the ancient tomb complex where the royal ancestors rest in peace.

The air changed in an instant.

All sounds vanished simultaneously, even the wind was suppressed; it was as if a being from a higher level had descended.

The ground began to shake.

A violent collapse occurred in the mountains outside the capital, tearing apart the rock layers and sending a dark golden pillar of light soaring into the sky.

The next moment, a dragon's roar tore through the heavens and earth.

"Roar--!!!"

The explosive roar pierced the eardrums and struck directly into the depths of the soul, carrying undisguised arrogance and displeasure.

The sound waves swept across.

The Union flag turned to dust in an instant, and the cigar slipped from General Batur's fingers.

Duke Raymond felt his legs go weak, and before he could even register what was happening, his body had already uncontrollably collapsed onto the platform.

He looked up, his face deathly pale.

At the end of that dark golden pillar of light, something was slowly opening its eyes.

(End of this chapter)