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

Victoria, Little Hills Garrison, 9:00 p.m.

Colonel Hamilton stared intently at the distant, dark forest, but a hint of weariness lingered in his eyes. He beckoned to the side, and his adjutant immediately stepped forward, replying smoothly without Hamilton needing to say a word:

"Sir, it is 9 p.m. now."

"Nine o'clock?" Hamilton rubbed his eyes. Standing next to a high-powered searchlight for so long, staring at the pitch-black area with its stark contrast in light, was really damaging his eyesight. Coupled with the long hours of concentration, he was starting to feel a bit neurasthenic. "It's already nine o'clock. Are we still going to attack Deeppool? Could the intelligence be wrong?"

Sir Wenat stood beside him. He had left the barracks at 8:30 and come to the scene, determined to stand with Little Hillshire to the death, even if it meant dying on the battlefield. But after standing in the biting December wind for half an hour, his old bones nearly frozen to death, he hadn't seen a single inch of Deeppool.

But intelligence, theoretically, shouldn't be wrong. Reed had no reason to deceive himself. Even if he wanted to play the boy who cried wolf, the garrison of Little Hill County, facing a life-or-death situation, had no room for carelessness. Besides, the bloodstains freshly wiped from the two large lamps and the pervasive smell of blood reminded everyone present that Deeppool's arrival was no joke.

Hamilton frowned, then suddenly remembered something: "Speaking of which, haven't we seen any reinforcements from Lentinium either?"

The two men had received a fax in the office ordering reinforcements from Londinium. While not every Victorian was punctual, a society that used a clock tower as a national symbol was unlikely to have a poor sense of punctuality. Now, an hour had passed since the scheduled rendezvous time of 8:00. Not only had they not seen the enemy at Deeppool, but there wasn't even a trace of Londinium's garrison.

What? Are we in cahoots to mess with me?

Upon hearing this, Venat also came to his senses. Indeed, besides the deep pool, the reinforcements that Lontinim had promised were nowhere to be seen. Now that neither side had arrived, he quickly made an uncertain guess:

"I mean... could it be that the reinforcements and Deep Pool are fighting?"

Hamilton paused, suddenly recalling the unidentified noises he had heard from all directions in the barracks a little after eight o'clock.

It began with a thunderous roar, but the weather was fine that night, with no clouds. Then came the heavy thud of armored vehicles pounding the ground, but it was abrupt and without rhythm. Next came the deafening roar of a strange behemoth, but its direction was unpredictable. Finally, there was a series of bangs, like firecrackers exploding, coming from the north. However, when Hamilton questioned the soldiers stationed in the north, they found nothing unusual.

Hamilton initially thought that the strange noises, like the blood-stained words on the two large lamps behind him, were just a clumsy trick by the Deeppool rebels to demoralize their troops. With the garrison short-handed, he did not investigate further after confirming that there was no unusual activity in the rear, but instead focused on dealing with the possible surprise attack from the forest directly in front of him.

Now that I think about it, could those sounds mean that the reinforcements from Lontinim had already clashed with the Deeppool forces?

Hamilton felt a chill run down his spine. The soldiers of Londinium were indeed not under his command; they had their own numbers and officers. If their leader was a grand duke or a powerful figure in the palace, unauthorized action was entirely foreseeable. But this put him in a difficult position. Hamilton didn't know if the reinforcements had won, how to provide support, or dared to abandon the last stronghold of the rear garrison and lead his troops out to search. He could only stand there at the gate, waiting idly?

"What do we do next, Colonel?" Sir Wernart asked after a moment's hesitation, noticing Hamilton's strange expression.

Hamilton glanced at him, unsure whether the current situation was due to Wernart's false intelligence or the Londinium reinforcements acting on their own. His expression towards the returning envoy was naturally not pleasant. After a moment of silence, he replied sparingly:

"Wait."

"Wait until dawn."

.........

"Wait, the results will be out before dawn."

On a high ground about two movement blocks away from the Hillshire garrison, Ahmoni frowned, completely ignoring Mandela's furious glare that looked like he wanted to devour her, and continued speaking to herself.

“Something may have gone wrong during the operation, but in any case, we can only wait until dawn. If the six of them haven’t returned by then, we will retreat. Deeppool must not abandon his compatriots.”

Ahmoni declared righteously. Of course, her statement about not abandoning her compatriots simply meant not setting a precedent, as it would damage the Celts' prestige as leaders and the hard-won popular support they had built. It had absolutely nothing to do with caring about the lives of the soldiers.

Seeing that her glare was useless, Mandra, despite her injuries, stubbornly stood up and walked outside. Ahmoni's already unpleasant expression darkened further, and she asked:

"Where are you going, Mandela?"

"Go and deal with those little hill county scum!" Mandela stopped, but didn't turn around, cursing angrily, "I told you long ago that I should lead this battle. But you insisted on making me come back, and even lied to me that the leader had a mission for me, just to let those six good-for-nothings ruin our great situation?"

"I don't want even a single plot of land in Little Hill County to still belong to Victoria when the leader arrives. I want to personally cleanse this filth!"

Ahmoni's lips twitched. Sometimes she really couldn't understand how Mandela's brain was structured. When had Deeppool ever had a so-called "great situation"?

From the moment Deeppool raised its army to this latest attack on Little Hill County, the entire organization has been walking a tightrope, each step fraught with danger, a single misstep threatening to plunge them into an abyss. The reason Deeppool hasn't been formally wiped out is due to the indifference of ambitious figures within Victoria, the influence of "King Drak" among the Tara people, and the overt and covert support of those who resent Victoria's growing power and its apparent intention to continue expanding.

But Ahmoni knew very well, and the leaders knew very well, that all of this was just a mirage. As long as Victoria showed the slightest bit of a tough stance, those sponsors would scatter like birds and beasts. Especially after Her Majesty the Queen made that shocking statement, "We declare war on Deeppool and all individuals, organizations or nations that support Deeppool," several organizations that had previously secretly expressed their support for Deeppool withdrew their messengers that very night.

They simply didn't have the guts to go against Victoria! Most people were just hoping that Deeppool would annoy Victoria a little. Once they realized that the price they had to pay outweighed the gains, these speculators would be the first to leave.

But they probably didn't know that the reason Deeppool dared to launch this large-scale rebellion was because they were never alone.

It's not just people outside of Victoria who are dissatisfied with the current Victoria.

Chapter Twenty is actually representing your sister; I thought it represented the Empress.

Victoria, Little Hillshire, December 29th. Morning.

As the winter sun shone its lukewarm light over the twin moons of Terra, the land of Little Hill County was bathed in its radiance. Colonel Hamilton, already bundled up in a heavy winter coat, rubbed his tired eyes, feeling that his eyelids had never felt so heavy as this morning.

The garrison in Little Hillshire waited all night, standing guard outside their camp in the biting winter wind for a full hour, but nothing came. There were no rebels from Deeppool, nor reinforcements from Londinium; the near-freezing temperatures meant Hamilton didn't even see a mosquito.

Gazing at the dense forest in the distance under the bright sky, Hamilton finally couldn't resist and said to his deputy beside him:

"Take twenty men with you and come with me to explore the forest."

As he spoke, he grabbed the drowsy Wenat, his strong wrist squeezing Wenat's shoulder painfully. Hamilton said coldly,

"Sir Wernard also went along, and arranged for two people to keep an eye on him."

The fact that Deeppool did not attack suggests that Sir Wenat's intelligence was highly likely flawed, a deliberate false report from Deeppool. This would transform Sir Wenat's image from that of a loyal and righteous man who escaped death into that of a traitor who surrendered, spread false information, and caused his army to freeze in the open overnight, potentially delaying crucial military operations. However, Hamilton dared not draw a definitive conclusion, as Sir Wenat had also raised the possibility that Londinium and reinforcements might have already engaged Deeppool's forces.

The unusual noises last night seemed to corroborate this claim, and could also prove Wenat's innocence. However, the situation last night was complicated; flares were ineffective in the dense, lush forest, and Hamilton dared not rashly send troops to investigate the anomaly in the forest. Now, with daylight breaking, he decided to go and find out for himself.

.......

Dense forest.

After completing their respective tasks, the members of the Tower of Babel returned on time to the rendezvous point set up by Kal'tsit in the dense forest.

It's worth mentioning that when Theresa noticed that Wayne and the others were returning with Surtur and the Mobile Support Group, she was really worried. Considering the sound like firecrackers coming from Wayne's direction, she thought Wayne had been shelled by the Deep Pool Force.

So when she anxiously ran up to Paradox and looked him up and down, only to find that his clothes weren't even dirty, her undisguised expression of relief was quite a spectacle for everyone in the Tower of Babel.

Leaving aside Patriot and Frostnova, who already knew Paradox's identity, Warfarin and Kroos, who were traveling with Paradox, stood there stunned for quite some time. Warfarin sneaked over to Kal'tsit and began mysteriously inquiring about Paradox's identity and his relationship with Theresa, while Kroos looked at the only drone left in her backpack with a complicated expression. She suddenly understood why Mr. Paradox could be so natural and unhesitating in saying he would fund her artificial intelligence research, and she also understood that Mr. Paradox's promise was not a joke; her research had indeed received attention from the higher-ups of Babel.

But for some reason, when she saw Paradox pulling Theresa along and happily introducing herself to His Highness the Speaker: "Kroos is a genius, her inventions are groundbreaking. Come to my office when we get back, and we'll talk in detail," she always felt a little complicated.

Also, why does Mr. Paradox always subconsciously call her a shrewd businesswoman? She's clearly never owned a shop or sold anything. Does he think I have a talent for this? Just like he can see my talent for computer technology?

Unaware of Kroos's subtle expression, and oblivious to the still relatively innocent little bat's inner thoughts, Kal'tsit ignored Warfarin's gossipy expression, stepped forward, waved her hand, and said:

"Everyone has completed their missions admirably. The first operation of the Tower of Babel is now officially declared a perfect success. Now, please return quietly to the Londinium Expeditionary Force that is en route, or disband yourselves. Take your communicators with you. If anything happens, I, the Speaker, or Paradox will notify everyone through the communicators immediately. If you encounter any danger or trouble, you can also contact us through the special communicators, and the Tower of Babel will help you resolve it."

"We...don't have a...outpost?"

Patriot asked in confusion. He knew the true identities of the upper echelons of Babel. Whether it was the Demon King of Kazdel, the Guardian of the Earth, or Prince Victoria, all three had the ability to find a suitable base for Babel. However, Babel was still a "part-time" organization without its own headquarters, and it had to disband itself and find another way after completing its mission. This was really quite illogical.

Theresa and Kal'tsit exchanged a glance, looking somewhat embarrassed.

They certainly had the idea of ​​establishing their own base for Babel, but there wasn't a perfect option yet. A fixed base would be detrimental to Babel's concealment, and it would also hinder the movement of Babel agents who might be deployed to other places or even foreign countries at any time. Moreover, they simply didn't have the ability to do what Victoria did. If they couldn't solve the personnel mobility problem, they would simply build clock towers in various places and use money and power to settle everything.

The best solution at present is to build a land-based ship, but Kazdel does not yet have the industrial capacity and technological level required for that. They can only hope that some good news will come from the Rembiton ruins that are about to be excavated.

However, compared to Kal'tsit and Theresa's hesitation, Wayne was much more decisive:

"Yes, we will. We will have the most advanced land-based warship in the world."

What they couldn't be certain of, Vayne was certain of: the excavation of Rhodes Island would begin soon, requiring communication with Kal'tsit and Theresa. They possessed the exact coordinates of Rhodes Island. Vayne would handle the acquisition of mining equipment and permits. Although the current timeline was later than when Theresa unearthed Rhodes Island in the original storyline, Rhodes Island would inevitably fall into Vayne's hands.

He could see from the information about [PRTS] in the database above, as well as from the official intelligence that Kal'tsit was very curious about the central space that even the old Rhodes Island officials had kept hidden from Kroos, a remnant of the Tower of Babel.

Having more or less guessed the connection between the paradox and the Speaker, and with his assurance, many of their doubts were dispelled. Patriot left with Frostnova to return to Londinium, Logos returned to Kazdel, where he had his own magical laboratory at the Banshee's Court, while Surtr and Mudrock would return to the expeditionary force—an arrangement Vayne had promised Theresis. As for Kroos and Warfarin, having no fixed abode, they ultimately chose to stay.

"It's still dark, where are we going next?"

Warfarin's personality suggests she rarely feels sadness or melancholy; she always maintains a cheerful disposition, a stark contrast to the somber nature of the Sarkaz race. However, neither of the two Sarkaz Vayne knows are truly as cold and stern as rumored. On the contrary, their personalities are even better than many wealthy young men raised in privileged environments and trained in etiquette. Yet, they still have few friends. This demonstrates just how severe the stigma surrounding the Sarkaz is.

With Warfarin keeping the atmosphere lively, the scene didn't become quiet even after the operators left. Kal'tsit turned her gaze to Vayne for her opinion, and Vayne nodded slightly.

"Go ahead and speak. There's nothing to hide."

Kal'tsit then replied, "We are going to inspect the territory of the garrison in Hillshire next."

"Oh, go find the garrison? Do you think those arrogant Victorians will accept us? Even though we helped them resolve such a huge issue..."

Warfarin instinctively wanted to tease the Victorians, but then realized her mistake and looked at Kal'tsit in surprise, asking:

"Huh? Kal'tsit, what did you just say we were going to do?"

“Call me Doctor. Although the mission is over, please maintain basic etiquette,” Kal'tsit corrected. “We went to inspect the area.”

Warfarin gasped, her gaze sweeping over Kal'tsit, Kroos, and Theresa, finally settling on Vayne, the only one present who wasn't a Sarkaz and wasn't particularly familiar with her. She gave a dry laugh:

"I wonder if this famous Paradoxical guy is some Victorian aristocrat? My apologies, which important person is he representing on this inspection?"

“I’m speaking on behalf of my sister,” Wayne said, smiling at Warfarin.

Warfarin breathed a sigh of relief, wiped away her cold sweat, laughed, walked over and patted Wayne on the shoulder, acting like they were buddies, and said:

"Oh dear, Kal'tsit always likes to leave things unsaid, making people guess. It startled me. Turns out she's representing your sister. I thought she was representing the little Queen Victoria."

"Oh, by the way, who is your sister?"

P.S.: Guys, the Hearts of Iron IV Soviet DLC was officially released yesterday! And the long-awaited, delayed "Soviet Father's Happy Galgame (Shoot!)" project is now recruiting closed beta testers on a massive scale. The developer, NKVD, claims the game is the culmination of countless hours of hard work, and that players who participate in the test will be so thrilled they'll die on the spot. They also claim the secrecy measures are extremely tight, and absolutely no test participants will leak any information. I'm not entirely convinced, so I've decided to stay up all night to play it and share my thoughts with you all when I get back.

Ahem, someone's knocking. I'll open the door now, we'll chat later—

PS:

Chapter Twenty-One: I have plenty of time, I will wait for you.

As Wayne emerged from the forest, he bumped into Colonel Hamilton and Sir Wernart, who were advancing cautiously, preparing for a thorough search of the woods. Wayne was immediately startled and greeted them warmly.

Where are you all headed?

Colonel Hamilton, already on high alert, was suddenly interrupted by Wayne's abrupt words. His primal instincts kicked in, and he sprang into action, his body contorted in a daze. The surrounding soldiers reacted even faster, charging forward in a flurry of shouts and commands, surrounding Wayne and his men. They raised their crossbows. It wasn't until Sir Wenat that the first to react, in a panic, that he broke free of his ranks and stood in Wayne's way.

"No, don't do it! This is His Highness the Prince!"

Wenat waved his hands frantically, not caring whether the ready-to-fire crossbow bolts would riddle him with holes, and grabbed Hamilton beside him, shouting:

"Tell your men to lay down their weapons immediately! This is His Highness the Prince of Wales! And these two are His Highness the Princess and Chief of Staff Sir Kal'tsit!"

Kelsey did not have the title of Victoria, but it was clear to everyone that this woman from the Felin family, who had always been close to members of the royal family, had a bright future ahead of her. It was only a matter of time before she was granted a title and knighthood. Calling her a knight in advance demonstrated her political acumen and judgment.

Sure enough, upon hearing this string of terrifying titles, even the most impulsive soldiers hesitated. After weighing the risks of defying the royal family versus disobeying orders, they all lowered their weapons. Only then did Colonel Hamilton belatedly realize his mistake, quickly sheathing his instinctively drawn sword and respectfully and humbly stepping forward to apologize:

"Your Highness, please forgive my rudeness, what just happened was truly an accident."

Although he didn't know why Wayne was here, it was a fact that his own troops had drawn their swords against the royal family. Hamilton should put everything else aside for now and apologize first.

Wayne didn't dwell on the minor incident. Although it had startled him, Hamilton's actions were understandable. His caution had indeed helped the isolated town of Littlehill County weather its longest period of darkness, awaiting the dawn of reinforcements. While Wayne knew that his repressive policies towards the Tara people of Littlehill County were one of the direct causes of the riot, he decided to address that issue later, given the primary concern for national security.

Nodding in acknowledgment of Hamilton's explanation, she let the minor incident slide, then glanced with some surprise at the middle-aged man who had just blocked her way, asking uncertainly: