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

Vina thought for a moment and asked, "That villa of my brother's? The one Yelena and Mr. Bozocasti stayed at a while ago?"

Kal'tsit nodded. "Yes." She explained, "Everyone knows the history of that villa. It was once the holiday home of the Duke of Lancaster, whose title has been revoked. Later, it was converted into a refuge by the King in the North. It was also the place where Prince Wayne lived the longest before moving into the Iron Palace. Letting Reed live there can be considered as fulfilling one of her wishes."

“That child has been staying by Prince Wayne’s side for more than 36 hours.”

“…”

Vina and Theresa exchanged a glance, a hint of struggle flashing in their eyes, before finally nodding helplessly.

"Let's do as Kal'tsit says."

Everyone knows that Reed's crimes in this war were not major, but she was, after all, the apparent leader of Deeppool. As the organizer, even if her own hands were spotless, as long as the crimes of her subordinates were countless, she would still have to bear some responsibility for them. Therefore, she needed to be given a punishment that was neither painful nor scathing.

Confinement is still confinement, whether it's in the King's Castle in the North after the fall of Dublin or in the Iron Palace in Londinium. Let's grant this Draco girl, who has drifted half her life without any control over her destiny, this insignificant wish to stay by her brother's side.

Just as everyone had reached a consensus and was preparing to have someone draft the speech, a discordant voice suddenly rang out.

Therese, an observer attending a meeting of the Victorian Big Three (with Wayne absent and Kal'tsit temporarily filling in for Wayne) for the first time, grumbled somewhat discontentedly:

"If it were me, they'd all be court-martialed. At best, they'd be hanged with their bodies intact; at worst, they'd be sent to the carrion cannibals as snacks..."

"Shut up, brother (Theresis x2)!" The three of them turned around in unison and glared at Theresis. The chairman was startled and took a half step back. Realizing what had happened, he coughed to ease his embarrassment and wisely changed the subject, saying:

"What should we do with the remaining remnants of the deep pool? Should we let them go too?"

“If we can offer them amnesty, then let’s offer them amnesty. The reeds have provided them with a hiding place. Theresis, take some men and make contact.”

Vina said.

Therese nodded reluctantly, then pressed on, "What if we can't get them to surrender?"

Vina glanced at him and casually said, "One offer of amnesty is a warning, a second offer of amnesty is merciful, and if he still doesn't listen after a third offer, then that's the ultimate act of benevolence."

"Don't let me hear any more news about them by then. You can do that, can't you, Chairman?"

Therese stared blankly at Vina, who had calmly issued the kill order, a smile appearing on her face. She bowed slightly and gave a salute.

"Of course, no problem."

P.S.: My computer, my computer, finally couldn't make it through Wednesday afternoon.

It was mailed to the computer store, and after the owner was at a loss, he sent it to the headquarters' after-sales service department, which meant that the repair might become indefinitely delayed.

I asked about the timeframe, and it said it might take half a month for it to be sent back for repair and return. How could I possibly wait half a month?

I have to buy a new laptop. Does anyone have any recommendations? I'll post a link with the price range and search on Taobao.

Chapter Fifty-Four: Hardcore Persuasion to Surrender

Victoria, 30km from Lentinium, is a secluded base in a deep pool.

Today, Londinim has entered a phase of deindustrialization. Skyscrapers have become the exclusive landscape of the Terra Financial Center [Londinim's core city]. The streets and alleys outside the core city have been meticulously designed and aesthetically pleasing, showcasing the pinnacle of Victorian urban architectural aesthetics. For the scouts at Deeppool, the enormous silhouette on the horizon that stretches out before them each time they approach Londinim is a dreamland they can only look towards but never reach.

But no matter how much they longed for and lingered there, they had to turn back to that empty, simple camp and listen to the three daily bickering and arguments of the two deep-pool leaders stationed there.

Mandela was extremely dissatisfied with Rahmoni's policy of appeasement. Nearly a year had passed since their leader, Celt, took Rafsini to Londinium, and for Mandela, who wanted to be by Celt's side almost constantly, this was practically an ascetic ordeal. Whenever she felt agitated, she naturally vented her resentment on Rahmoni:

"It's all your fault! Aren't you the strategist? Why didn't you persuade the leader not to come to this godforsaken place? And you wouldn't even let me go with her! Who's going to guarantee her safety?!"

Rahmoni initially didn't want to bother with the stupid cat, but Mandela's incessant chatter was far more devastating than Victoria's cannon fire, so she could only retort:

"What nonsense are you spouting, Mandela? Do you think I can defy the leader, or do you think your assumptions are wiser than the leader's decisions?"

To strike at the heart of the matter, Mandela was placed in a position of comparison with the Celts. Mandela immediately backed down. She clicked her tongue, unable to claim she was more brilliant than the Celts, but she still harbored resentment that the Celts hadn't taken her to Londinium, instead bringing her burdensome younger sister. She could only uneasily widen her eyes, trying to vent her anger through her gaze at Ahmoni.

Seeing that Mandra had calmed down, Ahmoni finally breathed a sigh of relief, but soon, seeing the unharmed scouts return empty-handed from the wasteland, Ahmoni frowned again.

In the Deeppool military camp, there was a Victorian military map, provided to them by one of their collaborators—Grand Duke Ankhbad. Military maps differed from ordinary maps because they were marked with various pieces of information extremely useful for military operations, such as "contour lines and high points," "river flow direction and speed and surrounding terrain features," and "population settlements."

Thanks to the Royal Guard Academy of Victoria, Ahmoni, a fellow graduate of the Guard Academy with Bagpipe and Chen, could even be considered Wayne's classmate. While the military knowledge learned at the Guard Academy wasn't as extensive as that of the Royal Military Academy, which specialized in training officers, deciphering a military map was still a breeze.

During the time Ahmoni was stationed around Lentinium, based on the military map provided by Grand Duke Ankhbad, he sent scouts to visit several possible Victoria outposts, but without exception, they all returned empty-handed, just like the scout who had just returned to the camp.

Is the outskirts of Londinium undefended?

Ahmoni couldn't believe the news, but based on the current clues, it seemed to be true.

Could this be a good opportunity to launch a surprise attack on Londinium? Could the Celtic leader and that pawn Raphsini have really stirred up some kind of unrest in the city?

Ahmoni guessed. It wasn't entirely impossible; everyone knew that the Aslan royal family, represented by Wayne and Vina, was planning a ceremony to abolish Drak's right of succession. They had even brought in Talulah, a descendant of another Drak lineage, along with various pieces of evidence. They had invited representatives from various countries to raise their prestige and prove their legitimacy through a grand ceremony, ultimately allowing them to smoothly abolish the right of succession.

But what if, at this moment, Celt and Raphsini suddenly leap onto the stage, unleashing the red dragon's unique magic of controlling "temperature," announcing their presence to the entire land? Then, the ceremony that Vayne had painstakingly orchestrated would become their perfect stage, paving the way for their announcement of the Drak's return. At that point, it's highly likely that some of the interested nations would step forward to protect this Drak bloodline, plunging Victoria into complete chaos.

If that's really the case, it's not impossible that Wayne would recall his troops to quell the rebellion...

Or perhaps we should try a surprise attack on Londinium? Like the surprise attack on Dublin? If we can get in touch with Grand Duke Anhebad and his other supporters, and coordinate an attack from within and without, Deeppool might actually be able to take over the largest city in all of Terra! Then, they can change tactics, with the Grand Duke calling for reinforcements under the guise of raising the banner of loyalty to the King, and bringing in his private army from his own territory to cooperate with Deeppool in wiping out Wayne's forces first. Then, taking advantage of the Celts' relaxed state of mind, they can launch a surprise attack and suppress Deeppool's forces one by one.

At that time, without their own armies, the two royal bloodlines of Victoria would be like lions with their teeth pulled and dragons with their claws removed, utterly devoid of any deterrent power. The nobles could easily sideline them, install a puppet emperor, and happily take over the reins of power. And Ahmoni, as the proposer of the plan, would become the greatest contributor! She would get what she wanted most—to destroy the Victorian order and then see the "true face" of Victoria revealed after the chaos.

Thinking of this, Ahmoni stamped her foot, her face turning irritated.

Why? Today is already January 4th, why haven't Grand Duke Anhebad and the others sent me any messages yet? Even if Wayne is indulging in extravagance, with the Londinium banquet lasting for three days, today is the fourth day. Shouldn't they be sobering up by now?

Ahmoni was furious when she thought about the letters and coded messages she had secretly sent to the noble groups that had all gone unanswered.

This is like an Ahmeri cook who painstakingly cooks a bowl of chicken soup, saying, "Ha ha ha ha—the chicken soup is here!" and is about to feed it to the noble class, only to have them wave their hands and say, "No, no."

What do you mean? I've led my troops all the way to Lentinium through a "circuitous attack," and I was just about to seize the city in the chaos, and you're all dumbfounded? What? Did you drink yourself to death? Do you need me to cover you up and then we can have a feast?

Why the hell aren't you answering?!

Just then, a scout rushed into the camp, shouting as he ran, "Commander Ahmoni, there's a letter!"

Ahmoni snapped out of her daze and went to greet him with delight. Even Mandela, who had been glaring at her, turned her attention to the letter the scout had given her.

Ahmoni unfolded the letter, the first three large characters on the cover reading: "Letter of Surrender".

The content is even more concise than the title: Surrender, or die!

Chapter 55 The Serpent of Londinium, Chairman Takami

"I'll read the surrender document, you write it down. Surrender, or die!"

Therese instructed the secretary, who was responsible for drafting the letter, to write down the six words on a piece of paper. She paused, waiting for Therese to continue.

But after waiting for a while, he still hadn't heard Theresis speak. He looked up in confusion, only to find that Theresis had turned around and begun studying a military map of the area. The secretary paused, glanced at the six-word letter of surrender on the table, coughed awkwardly, and asked:

"Mr. Chairman, is there anything else?"

Therese paused, her pen still drawing the tactical map, and turned her head slightly to ask:

"Anything else? Oh, the Queen did tell me not to do things more than three times, to write three letters, but it's alright, you can send this one first, and if they don't accept it, I'll write a second one."

The secretary's expression grew increasingly strange. What did he mean by "if they don't agree, I'll write a second letter"?

Who do you think this letter of surrender can actually persuade? A letter of surrender needs a title, like who I am, where I come from, what power I represent, how strong I am, and that no matter what I do, I can't defeat me. Then it should make grand promises, urging others to surrender peacefully, offering some kind of reward or title. That's what a letter of surrender should be, right?

If you look at the six large characters in Theresis's letter, how do they relate to any of the points mentioned above?

Rather than a letter of surrender, the secretary felt it was more like a declaration of war. The fact that Theresis could so utterly convey undisguised contempt and arrogance in just six large characters showed her considerable talent.

The secretary thought for a moment, then forced a smile and said:

"Chairman, I don't think the enemy will surrender with such a letter of persuasion. If you're too lazy to deal with those rebels, why don't you let me polish it up?"

The secretary was quite confident in his writing skills. As an officer in the Victoria Royal Army, although he was only a civilian employee who didn't fight on the battlefield, he was undoubtedly from a prestigious family, had received an elite education, and was a top talent who graduated from one of the five royal colleges of Victoria. Chairman Theresis was a skilled warrior with advanced tactics, and was appointed by Her Majesty the Queen as the commander-in-chief of the suppression army, but when it came to literary talent, the secretary really didn't think that a demon leader born in Kazdel could compare to him.

"Polishing, what kind of polishing is needed?"

Therese put down her pencil, turned her head, and looked at her secretary.

"I think those six words are very clear. I persuaded them to surrender, and the consequence of not surrendering was death. I explained that to them. The benefit of surrendering is survival, at least for now. I think if the rebels have any brains, they can understand that. What more embellishment is needed?"

Therese chuckled, looked at his secretary, and instead of being angry, he patiently lowered his head and said earnestly:

“I know you think this letter of surrender isn’t well-written. It lacks elegant language, exaggerated metaphors, the imagery of fireflies and the moon, and the distinction between orthodoxy and heresy. It doesn’t conform to your set of rules for aristocratic warfare. But that’s the truth. I never intended to make the enemy surrender with just one or two letters. That’s wishful thinking.”

“They can’t understand a letter of surrender, not even six words. Artillery shells are the only language they understand when dealing with rebels. Send this letter out verbatim. I authorize you to draft a letter of surrender in my name one hour later and send it to the Deep Pool rebels. That’s all. We’ll wait and see.”

After finishing speaking, Therese ignored his secretary's puzzled look, turned around, picked up his pencil and baton, and once again buried himself in the world depicted on the military map.

"I'll leave these things to you. I have a lot to do."

Therese drew a long defensive line on the map along the river and the trajectory of the moving city, and nodded with satisfaction: "I'm going to focus my energy on the military."

........

Lentinium. Vina's office.

Vina, who had just gone out on business, came in carrying a stack of reports. She spread the reports on the table and called over Theresa, who was helping at the small table by the window:

"Sister Theresa, this is the battle plan that Theresis sent to the Londinium General Staff. I feel something is a bit strange about it. Can you take a look?"

Theresa leaned closer curiously:

"Strange, what's strange about it?"

Theresa had always acknowledged her brother's military capabilities. The fact that Vina called her proposed battle plan "strange" piqued her curiosity.

Vina pointed to the contents of the report and explained:

"It's this section. Therese ordered the Royal Army's First and Third Armies to line up along the river and into a single file along the tracks."

Vina rested her chin on her hand, tapping the table with her other hand, and recalled:

"He explained it to the General Staff like this: this troop deployment, like a long snake, also known as the 'Snake of Londinium,' is well-suited to counter the Deep Pool rebels' possible breakout tactics. Strike their head, and their tail will follow. Strike their tail, and their head will follow. Strike their middle, and both head and tail will follow. It sounds very impressive, and there's nothing wrong with it, but I always feel something's off."

After listening to Vina's explanation, Theresa frowned. To be honest, Vina also had a strange feeling.

This so-called "Serpent of Londinium" appears flawless, but there still seems to be some problems. What if Deeppool's firepower is very strong? What if Deeppool launches a feint attack from the tail first, and then, when the head comes to support, it outflanks and ambushes the supporting head?

Oh wait, no matter how strong Deeppool's firepower is, it seems impossible for it to surpass the Royal Army. After all, their behind-the-scenes boss, the entire aristocratic group, has been wiped out one by one by Wayne. And their mobility...

Can infantry outmobile land-based ships? Are all the soldiers in the Deep Pool superhero tanks, the kind who can smash tanks with a single punch?

Vina looked up at Theresa and found that Theresa was also looking at her.

They nodded in unison. Vina said:

"After this battle, bring Theresis back. I think he's been having a bit too much fun lately."

“I agree.” Theresa nodded seriously.

"So, should this plan be approved or not?" Theresa asked again.