Wassel despaired. When Marleyan airships appeared above Fort Slava, and without any warning, the previously clear sky was instantly engulfed in blinding golden light, accompanied by eerie, terrifying roars. Visible to the naked eye, the entire sky was filled with erupting golden lightning.
Wassel's subordinates and the Middle Eastern soldiers inside the fortress all wore blank expressions. They squinted up at the golden lightning in the sky, many of them still dazed and unaware of what was happening.
"General, what should we do?" The adjutant asked with a trembling voice, unable to hide the fear in his eyes. Though afraid, as a soldier, he still forced himself to suppress it and seek General Wassel's orders.
Wassel let out a dejected sigh. From the very beginning, he had opposed the Middle East launching a hasty war against Marley. Their preparations had been far too rushed. Although Marley had lost its strongest weapons on Paradis Island—the Colossal Titan, the Jaw Titan, and the Female Titan—even a declining big nation still has more power than a small one. Relying on countless lives, their remaining Titan warriors, and even newly emerged Titan warriors from unknown origins, Marley had battered the Middle East until it was bloodied and broken.
Now, Wassel was actually grateful that he had forcibly ordered half the army to retreat back then. At least it gave the Middle East a chance for future revenge. He could only hope that next time, they would be fully prepared.
But speaking of it, the power Marley had mobilized in this war seemed excessive. Even Wassel, their enemy, could see that Marley was overextending itself.
According to Middle Eastern intelligence, Marley had mobilized more than thirty divisions this time—nearly 600,000 troops. One must know that Marley's territory was vast, meaning they required an enormous standing army just to defend it, not to mention their many colonies abroad. Maintaining those alone required at least 500,000 troops.
So how large was Marley's military in total? Over fifty divisions, close to a million troops. It sounded like a lot—but was it really? No. Not at all. In fact, it was pitifully small.
Now, just to deal with the Middle East, Marley had deployed more than half of its forces. Its weakness was laid bare for all to see.
Meanwhile, the Middle East had only committed 200,000 troops in total. By this point in the war, they had lost 80,000 men, while Marley had suffered nearly double the casualties. Moreover, Marley's only two remaining fleets—over fifty warships—had been completely annihilated. The Marleyan navy was utterly crippled.
Wassel knew that this war was essentially already lost for the Middle East. But their goal had been half achieved—now the entire world had seen Marley's weakness. Would other nations, watching like tigers eyeing their prey, continue to tolerate an unworthy Marley monopolizing so many resources?
The Middle East was just the beginning. Marley's real troubles were only just starting.
Another thing was that the Middle Easterners had severely underestimated the threat of Titans. They had thought that without the Colossal Titan, Marley would be like a tiger without its claws. But reality had slapped them hard. The dense golden lightning filling the sky seemed to mock their arrogance.
Anti-Titan artillery was indeed effective—but even dozens of such guns could not instantly wipe out thousands upon thousands of Titans descending from the sky. Artillerymen would grow exhausted—but mindless Titans would not.
Wassel removed his medal-covered uniform and looked up at the sky.
"Marleyans, sooner or later you will reap what you sow. Relying on the power of devils, you will one day be devoured by them as well."
As if seeing through everything, a faint smile appeared on his face.
"General! General! Report! Something's happening! Marley—Marley's Titan warriors have been deployed! The fleet is under attack! There's something filthy in the sea! And outside the fortress walls, the Armored Titan, the long-clawed Titan, and that gourd-shaped Titan have appeared!" a subordinate reported in panic.
Wassel walked to the edge of the command center and raised his binoculars. In the distance, at the port of Fort Slava, artillery roared in unison. Countless warship cannons were all aimed at the sea, unleashing a frenzied barrage that sent towering waves splashing into the air.
"General! What should we do? Should we retreat? We only have 20,000 troops left—how can we fight this?" the adjutant urged anxiously.
Wassel gave a bitter smile.
"Retreat? How? Didn't you hear the report? The fleet is under attack. And look at the sky—where could we possibly retreat to?"
The adjutant raised his head—and saw a horrifying scene he would never forget for the rest of his life. Within the golden lightning, grotesque Titans twisted their limbs as they plummeted toward the ground.
His eyes bulged.
"Ge… Gen…"
Wassel sighed, then his gaze suddenly turned fierce as he issued his command:
"Deploy the armored trains! All of them! There is only one objective—annihilate Marley's Titan warriors with everything we have! And have the soldiers prepare for a final battle! Today, we will make the Marleyans pay in blood!!"
With this as the beginning, war between the Middle East and Marley would inevitably erupt again in the future. Since there was no way out, they might as well land one more brutal blow against Marley this time! Every Titan warrior they killed would mean one less threat to the Middle East.
The Middle Eastern soldiers swallowed hard, but still clenched their teeth and went to relay the orders.
"Wooo!!!"
The warehouse gates opened. From the dim storage hall came a long, piercing whistle, followed by the grating sound of twisting steel.
Clang! Clang!
A dark, ferocious steel beast slowly emerged from the warehouse.
A Middle Eastern soldier couldn't help wiping his sweat as he stared at the massive cannon barrel thicker than a man.
So this… was an armored train?
"Loya, why aren't you going to join the battle? This victory is basically guaranteed to belong to us Marleyans. Taking part means easy merit—such a great opportunity, and you're not going?" Bagge asked, his belly sticking out.
Yago crossed his legs and countered,
"Then why aren't you going, Bagge? You even have the mood to sit here drinking tea with me?"
Bagge laughed loudly.
"Me? I'll pass. I'm scared of dying—you know that."
Yago: "Oh? Then just assume I'm afraid of dying too."
Bagge: "Come on, I know how brave you are. Besides, aren't your subordinates all Eldians? If they go, isn't that the same? The credit still goes to you anyway. Those other colonels like you are all charging in with their troops, shouting at the top of their lungs."
Yago let out a cold laugh.
"Right. Eldians fight and die, and in the end the credit all goes to us Marleyan officers. Sounds great."
Of course, those Marleyan officers rushing to their deaths probably wouldn't live to receive any credit. Serena had already arranged everything—those greedy people who didn't treat Eldians as human would soon lose their chance to remain human themselves.
Bagge didn't notice the sarcasm in Yago's tone. As if recalling something, he took a letter out of his coat and handed it to Yago.
"You weren't around the past few days, so I'm giving this to you now. It's a letter from your family."
Yago was slightly taken aback.
A family letter?
Though unsure what it was about, he still took the envelope. The L-shaped emblem on it looked somewhat familiar… as if he had seen it somewhere before.