Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

An empress of an empire, a noble member of the royal family, is mourning the lives lost in this attack! This is unprecedented in the history of Terra!

The high-ranking national leaders never cared about the lives of ordinary people. Wave after wave of soldiers went to the battlefield, only to pocket the meager gains at the negotiating table. Anyone could bow their heads and remain silent, but the leaders of Terra never did; they disdained it!

But today, the most powerful empire on this land, the British Empire, set a precedent. She mourned the victims, even though those sacrifices weren't for her, even though they had nothing to do with her, even though they brought her no benefit whatsoever. She still chose to mourn. The moment lasted only a minute, but within that minute, the entire Victorian Empire seemed to have undergone a tremendous transformation.

The people, who had initially dismissed the matter as none of their business, fell silent. They stared at the Queen until Vina raised her head and opened her eyes, at which point they snapped back to reality. A surge of rage welled up from their limbs, a powerful indignation and pride rushing to their brains. Some citizens even rose to their feet, rushed into the dusty, neglected storerooms, and retrieved the nearly rusty crossbows passed down from their fathers and grandfathers. They cleaned them, cocked them, and prepared to set off to greet this so-called Deep Pool. What right did they have to make our Queen mourn for their evil deeds? What right did they have to make the great Victoria bow her head? What right did they have to harm their compatriots, trample their land, and act so brazenly in their presence?!

However, as the Lion King on stage spoke again, his impassioned tone and powerful voice immediately suppressed the people's desire to rush out of their homes, drawing them back to their televisions and computers to listen to Vina's voice once more as the Victorian national anthem played on the screen.

"As Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Victoria Army, I have instructed the Imperial Army to take all necessary defensive measures! Our nation will forever remember the nature of the Deeppool Group's attack on us. No matter how long it takes to defeat this premeditated aggression, the righteous army of the Victorian people will surely achieve a complete victory."

"We have faith in our armed forces and rely on the unwavering determination of our people; we will surely triumph. God bless Victoria!"

Vina raised her hand and shouted.

At the same time, a voice resounded throughout the streets and alleys of the entire Victorian Empire—"God bless the Queen!"

"From this very moment on, I demand that Parliament declare that from the very second that Sunday, December 26, 1092, when Deeppool launched its unprovoked and despicable attack on our country, Victoria has been at war with Deeppool and any nation or organization that dares to interfere in this just war!"

"Let the enemy be submerged in the vast ocean of the Victorian people!"

God bless Victoria!

The second lion's roar echoed throughout Victoria once again!

Chapter Nine: Ordinary Heroes Drift Like Reeds

"Wake up, wake up? Hmm, I shouldn't be seriously injured. I heard that middle-aged people don't have heart problems. I hope I wasn't scared to death..."

With a troubled look, Wei Cao looked at the middle-aged man, Fei Lin, who was slumped unconscious on the sofa. After hesitating for a moment, she snapped her fingers, lit a small flame in her palm, and quietly placed it on the unconscious man's tail.

As the flames ignited the man's tail, she controlled the fire to prevent injury while pushing and calling out again:

"Wake up, or your tail will really be cooked."

Perhaps sensing the abnormality in his tail, Sir Wenat slowly opened his eyes, opened his mouth, but his dry throat could only produce violent coughing sounds:

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Reed quickly extinguished its flames, stood up, looked down at Sir Wenat who had regained consciousness, and handed him an unopened bottle of drinking water. Sir Wenat didn't care much, quickly took the water, unscrewed the cap, and gulped it down. Only after the water soothed his throat did he regain his ability to speak.

He coughed lightly a few times to clear away the pent-up discomfort before looking at the girl in front of him.

Her face was exquisite, like a porcelain doll's; her eyes were a deep blue, like the sky and the ocean; her knitted sweater couldn't hide the dazzling red on her chest, like it was burning. Her girlish temperament made her seem like an ordinary girl next door. If her expression wasn't expressionless and indifferent, but instead had a few innocent smiles, perhaps Wenat would really be captivated by her.

But when he noticed the girl's long, burning tail and her distinctive pair of horns, her expression suddenly changed. Surprise and seriousness intertwined on her thin face, prompting him to ask a question without realizing it:

"Draco?"

"Did you recognize me?" Reed muttered to herself without much surprise, sitting down opposite Wenat on the sofa and saying calmly, "Don't look at me like that, but I saved you."

"You saved me?" Venat was slightly taken aback, then recalled the scene before he lost consciousness. At that time, he pulled out his long-unused cane, unleashed his Originium Arts, intending to fight the severely injured Felin to the death. But he overestimated his abilities. Having spent so long navigating the political and aristocratic circles, his Originium Arts had long since fallen into disuse. The hastily used spell not only failed to harm Mandela, but because he hadn't used it for so long, he accidentally overexerted himself, draining his mental energy. His cane, unable to withstand the spell's output, overloaded and injured him. Before he even engaged Mandela in battle, he had blown his hand to pieces.

After all, he himself hadn't expected that a simple investigation would lead to something that would force even a clerical worker like himself to risk his life.

His last conscious thought was of Mandela about to finish him off. Then he passed out. He didn't wake up again until here.

He didn't die; someone saved him?

Wenat stared directly at the girl before him, feeling not joy at having escaped a desperate situation, but rather wariness and sorrow.

In that situation, who could possibly save him? Mandela dared to kill even a baron and a colonel from Victoria; how could he possibly let him go so easily? There were only two possibilities: either the girl before him had fought Mandela, and the injured Mandela was no match for her, forced to let him go; or the girl before him held a higher position in the Deep Pool organization than Mandela, forcing Mandela to obey her orders and spare his life.

Wenat surveyed Reed, finding her completely unscathed. Mandra's strength even surpassed Kant's; even severely injured, she was still formidable. For her to defeat her unharmed seemed impossible for a girl Reed's age. This significantly increased the likelihood of the latter being the stronger possibility.

Not to mention, the Reeds are a Drak race! The Drak are already considered extinct. If you were to ask who in all of Victoria is most dissatisfied with Aslan, yet can command the Tara and build their own power, it would only be the Drak. After all, the Drak king and the original Aslan king didn't sign a surrender treaty, but a truce treaty, meaning that the war between the red dragon and the lion hadn't actually ended, but had merely entered a long truce.

Aslan arrogantly believed that the Drakians' gradual decline over time was a foregone conclusion, and after news of their extinction spread, he abandoned his vigilance against them. But now, the return of the Deeppool has truly sounded the alarm for Aslan. The Drakians may have weakened, but even a centipede with a hundred legs doesn't die easily. How could the red dragons that once dominated all of Victoria have failed to hold back their strength for a final stand? Now, the Deeppool is back, the Drakians are back—this is a continuation of a war spanning centuries!

Wenat couldn't help but be pessimistic. He naturally assumed that the only reason Reed had kept him alive was to use his identity to do something—perhaps demand a ransom? Or perhaps provide false information?

Wenat swore he would never do such a thing. He was a nobleman, and for no other reason than that he had been favored by the emperor for generations and it was only right that he should do so!

“Hmm…look at my expression, it’s not friendly. Although I know it’s normal.” Reed sighed, “I can’t stop my sister’s decision. I can only use my own identity to save some innocent people and stop my subordinates from committing unforgivable crimes against their compatriots.”

“My name is Weicao. I saved you, not for any other reason than because of my brother.” Weicao looked at the television, which was muted. The television was playing a black-and-white memorial announcement. “My brother is very angry.”

“Brother?” Wenat frowned, then suddenly remembered something and asked, “Are you the late emperor’s daughter? His Highness the Prince’s sister?”

The King in the North once had an adopted daughter—a secret shrouded in urban legend. Since the King in the North discovered Draco's true identity, Reed had been raised in the King in the North's castle in Dublin, almost never interacting with the outside world. However, before that, many who participated in the battle to exterminate the demonic parasite that found Reed knew of her existence. They were all loyal followers of the King in the North, now either dead in battle or forced to withdraw from politics after the Normandy Duke's affair, thus making Reed's existence a mystery.

Wenat knew this because he was a junior whom Arthur valued, and Arthur knew this because he had been a subordinate of Marshal Ernest, who was the first commander of the Wars of the Roses in the North and the first nobleman after seizing power, so he naturally knew some secrets.

Even Ernest, before seeing Reed with his own eyes, had no idea that the King in the North's adopted daughter was a descendant of Drak.

Mentioning Wayne, Reed's expression brightened considerably, and she nodded:

"Yes, Wayne is my brother!"

Wenat's face lit up. If there was this connection, and since Reed didn't seem to have any ill intentions towards him, perhaps he really could be trusted? He quickly asked:

"Then why don't you go back to Londinium?"

Wei Cao's brows, which had just relaxed, furrowed again, and her pretty face fell into deep sorrow: "Because the leader of Deep Pool is my sister."

“…” Wenat was speechless for a moment, not knowing what to say.

Prince Aslan of Victoria is Reed's brother, while the leader of the anti-Victoria Deeppool faction is Reed's sister. It's easy to imagine that Reed, caught in the middle, is probably the one who suffers the most. No matter which side she sides with, she is betraying her own family.

“So, Your Highness Reed…” Wenat addressed her as Your Highness, not only because of Reed’s identity, but also because she had indeed saved his life, “What do you wish to do now?”

"Me?" Reed looked thoughtful, but quickly became resolute. "I will stay in the deep pool."

"Why? Deeppool can't possibly defeat Victoria. As long as His Highness the Prince makes a move, the destruction of this organization will be instantaneous!" Wenat said this without any psychological burden. He didn't think he was boasting; he was simply stating the facts.

Reed nodded, replying with complete agreement, "You're right. It's precisely because I believe my brother can calm the deep pool that I must stay here."

“Even if I don’t go back, my brother can still suppress the deep pool, and my return would be of no use. But if I stay in the deep pool, as long as I am still my sister’s representative, I can save more people on the battlefield.”

"I am," Wei Cao said earnestly, her eyes gleaming with a clear light.

"Just as I saved you, there is so much more I can do here. I must stay."

She reached out and stopped Wenat, even though Wenat was speechless. She had no intention of listening to Wenat's persuasion anymore; each such attempt only eroded her resolve. She wasn't someone who could maintain unwavering resolve at all times; most of the time, she was even somewhat weak, sometimes responding to Mandela's刁难 (diāonán, making things difficult) with silence. But on this matter, she had to be resolute.

This was her own decision!

Reed looks back on her short life, from being found and raised by the King in the North as a child, to being arranged to marry Wayne as his fiancé, to growing up alone in Dublin as a teenager, to being found by her Celtic sister and becoming her substitute, to being arranged to negotiate with the Earl of Princeton, son of the Duke of Normandy, to entice him to launch a rebellion, until finally having a brief reunion with Wayne in the North.

Her life was like a puppet show with a pre-written script, except that at the end of the play, leaving Wayne's side in the North, returning to the Deep Pool, and staying there to stop her sister from going further astray was her own decision.

She had to be resolute, because this was the first and perhaps only chance in her life to accomplish something earth-shattering through her own will!

Her father was the most valiant emperor in history to conquer the unconquered city of Londinium.

Her sister is a restorer of the Tara and Drak bloodlines.

Her brother, bearing the prestigious title of liberator of the land, has spread his achievements throughout Terra.

She may not be as great as them, and may only be considered ordinary compared to them, but she wants to do her best to end a war and save more people!

“No need to say anything more,” Reed said. “At eight o’clock tonight, the Deeppool troops will launch the final battle against the garrison camp in Little Hill County. I’ve arranged a secret passage for you to slip out. Once you’re out, go straight for thirty kilometers, and you’ll reach the mobile area currently controlled by the Little Hill County garrison. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon now. I hope you can deliver this intelligence on time.”

Reed walked to the dining table, picked up the vase, took out a yellow slip of paper, and handed it to Wenat. The familiar handwriting surprised Wenat.

This is the handwriting on the intelligence card about Baron Bolton's party that Kant obtained from Saoirse. Saoirse had also taken a yellow slip of paper from under a vase and given it to Kant, who then handed it to him at the meeting place.

From the very beginning, the reeds were taking huge risks to help them.

She was nothing more than a swaying reed in the war, ready to break at any moment, yet she possessed heroic courage.

Chapter Ten: The Chairman's Agent

Wayne patted Vina's head, a smile of praise appearing on his slightly tired face:

"Vina, you spoke very well, very impressively!"

"Why didn't you go, brother?" Vina smiled, looking at Wayne's slightly embarrassed expression, and rubbed her head against Wayne's hand. "I've practiced a lot too. While you and Kal'tsit or Theresa were busy saving the world, I was always protecting this family."

“No matter how far a hero travels, he will still come home after defeating the Demon King.” Vina winked at Wayne, her lively expression making Wayne blush slightly, and the weariness in his heart eased considerably.

Theresa scratched her head with a wry smile.

Vina, you can't just use the phrase "slay the Demon King" carelessly. Your sister-in-law is the Demon King herself.

Kal'tsit, who had overseen the recording of the declaration of war speech, emerged from the soundproof booth, script in hand. She gave Vina a thumbs-up. In her long life, she had seen far more outstanding orators, those who could sway an entire nation with their eloquence alone, but that took time. Even the most gifted orators couldn't deliver a near-perfect speech to an entire empire at Vina's age!

"Your Highness Wayne's words are truly excellent. How did you manage to compose such a near-perfect declaration of war speech in just half a day, with its literary merit, diplomatic rhetoric, and emotional impact?" Kal'tsit asked curiously. Wayne proudly raised his head:

"It's just that we drew on some experience."

An ordinary speaker is just one person, a powerful speaker has a team behind him, an emperor's speech has a nation behind him, but Wayne, who wrote this speech, has an entire world behind him. This unique background is enough to make him proud.

Seeing that Wayne wasn't going to elaborate, Kal'tsit stopped pressing for details. Now wasn't the time to discuss the speech; now that war had been officially declared, the focus should be on how to make this war perfect and spectacular. Deeppool might be an insignificant organization, utterly incomparable to the massive Victoria, but even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit. Wayne, being the lion himself, was unlikely to make the mistake of being careless or underestimating his opponent.

"The most urgent task is to select a general."

Theresa finally found a chance to interject.

“Deeppool is currently wreaking havoc in various cities in the North. Every minute we waste will result in irreparable losses. Vina, does Victoria have any generals skilled in mountain and jungle warfare?”

A key characteristic of the Deeppool raids is that whenever they breach a city and defeat the local garrison, they don't choose to occupy it. Instead, they destroy the city, taking only useful supplies and food. They then retreat into the long mountains of the North. So far, apart from Dublin County, the capital of the North, no other city in Londinium has been found to have been completely captured.

Deeppool's plan is to wage guerrilla warfare against Victoria, constantly attacking Victoria's major cities and disrupting Lentinium's connections with the counties. Their goal will be achieved when the cost for Victoria to maintain these connections using the army exceeds the cost of reclaiming the northern counties.

This tactic was familiar to the Victorians; it was the very trick Colombia had used in the past. At that time, the Grand Duke who ruled the Colombian enclave was preoccupied with dealing with the rising Gallo Empire. Colombia seized the opportunity, using its far weaker military to repeatedly employ this tactic: attack, destroy, plunder, retreat, then attack the next city, repeating the cycle endlessly. Eventually, the Grand Duke realized that continuing to maintain an army to suppress the Colombian rebellion would not only reduce his fighting capacity against Gaul but also severely strain his finances. Ultimately, he was forced to abandon control of Colombia, withdraw his troops to focus on fighting Gaul, and tacitly allow their independence.

Deeppool clearly wanted to imitate this tactic, and their strength was even greater than that of the Colombian rebels of yesteryear. But they seemed to have forgotten one thing: the current Victoria was not the Grand Duke who fought against Gaul back then. It was a unified and vast empire. For it to declare war on you was a sign of respect. To put it bluntly, in Wayne's mind, this should be considered bandit suppression.

Suppressing bandits is a technical task, especially since Deep Pool is clearly a formidable force with many hidden cards, including arrangements specifically targeting unicorns, making it difficult for them to detect their presence. In such situations, a skilled general familiar with mountain warfare becomes extremely important.

Vina frowned slightly, resting her chin on her hand in deep thought. Kal'tsit, on the other hand, looked at Vayne.

Wayne has a lot of brilliant ideas, and he almost always solves problems perfectly.

But this time, Wayne was also in a bit of a predicament.

In his memory, there really wasn't anyone like this. The Victorian army underwent three large-scale purges. The first, after the King of the North seized the throne, purged the former king's officers. After Wayne came to power, he purged the army again to ensure he held military power. Then, after the Normandy Grand Duke incident, Wayne had to purge the nobility a third time. In an era where officers were primarily from noble families, these three purges essentially cleansed the Victorian military from top to bottom. Victoria's severe shortage of military talent was a seed planted long ago, and now it was finally time to reap the rewards.

Wayne wanted to take to the battlefield himself, but he wasn't skilled in military operations, especially strategy. No one is perfect. Living in his previous life in a peaceful country, the biggest war Wayne had ever fought was a brawl in the school gymnasium during a fight to become the unpopular school bully. That fight was ultimately cut short due to unforeseen circumstances (the school's intervention). His only knowledge of war came from textbooks and the Paradox Interactive games with their DLCs on his computer.

Admittedly, he was already quite talented, even commanding a blitzkrieg decapitation strike in the North. However, that time, everything was in Vain's favor. Vain had hardly ever fought a siege battle; it was a classic case of the enemy being in the open while he remained hidden. He scouted out the enemy's position, then descended from the sky in his Surtr mudstone form, followed by steam-armored soldiers who simply finished off any remaining enemies. Even when Vain was exposed at the end, the people of the North didn't attack him en masse; instead, they welcomed him with food and drink. That's why the victory was so easy in the end.

But this time, the tables have turned. Deeppool is in the shadows, while Wayne is in the open. In this situation, Wayne, a complete novice, certainly can't just spout off like his predecessors who were also transmigrators. It's absolutely unacceptable for an outsider to direct an expert.