Yes, Madam Prime Minister

Page 249

Publicizing the crimes of two individuals will not bring much benefit and may even lower morale.

The soldiers would think, "Even the magician has surrendered; this battle is probably hopeless."

Emperor Antoro summoned the two leaders of the assault team, the Invisible Man and the Earth Dragon, and gave them some instructions.

It wasn't complicated. They just told them to tell the other members of the commando team that these two weren't traitors, but were planning to infiltrate the enemy. They were exposed and died a glorious death. Whether you believe it or not, I believe it.

Afterwards, the emperor dismembered the two traitors, then summoned a large group of lower-ranking officers and many of the magicians he had recruited. He tearfully condemned himself, saying that he should not have arranged such an undercover operation, which had killed two loyal ministers. Then, he lay on a large velvet carpet embroidered with the imperial emblem, over the stinking remains of the corpses, and expressed his deepest condolences for the two gloriously sacrificed men. He denounced the cruelty of the Kingdom of Phos, saying that killing magicians was not enough; they had to dismember them. They were not human; they were demons on earth.

The junior officers were deeply moved by His Majesty the Emperor and vowed to rid the Kingdom of Fas of these demons for His Majesty and for the Father.

The magicians either joined in the weeping or came over while crying, urging His Majesty to take care of himself and to accept their condolences.

Some magicians were simply cooperating, while others were completely acting.

Who were those two dead? Others might not know, but they certainly did. They were the same kind of people as them, equally distrusted by His Majesty, merely collaborators.

The magicians who knew the two dead men well understood that the emperor would never send them as infiltrators.

But some things are best left unsaid; you just need to know them yourself.

The fifth round of fighting broke out the following day.

The soldiers worked very hard, and the mages worked very hard too.

The soldiers had heard about the atrocities committed by the Kingdom of Fas and the actions of His Majesty the Emperor from the officers, and were somewhat influenced by them.

As for the magicians, they knew that if they didn't work harder, the promises the emperor made to them wouldn't be fulfilled. Moreover, the deaths of those two men made them even more certain of one thing: the Kingdom of Phos didn't even have enough to feed its own magicians, let alone any extra. Surrendering to them was not a good idea.

On the battlefield, where fierce fighting has already begun.

"Lieutenant, we should retreat," said a slightly thin, tall man with curly hair. His expression was calm, but his hands were gripping his trousers tightly.

“No orders to retreat.” The man who answered was a lieutenant named Garibaldi, whom everyone used to call “Noodles.” Eight years had passed since the event that changed his life, and he had gone from a fourteen-year-old street thug to a twenty-two-year-old young officer.

At this moment, he led a special company of 120 mage musketeers to hold the small hill.

"Company commander, let's retreat," several other men beside him echoed.

It wasn't that they were afraid of fighting; they had just captured this high ground at the cost of eleven dead and six wounded, and in the blink of an eye, two special companies were rushing towards them. If they didn't run now, they wouldn't be able to escape.

Ordinary teams, without orders, cannot act on their own, whether it's attacking or retreating, but they are different.

Lieutenant Gary gritted his teeth, "We can't retreat. If we retreat, their deaths will have been in vain. I'll hold the front and the middle, and you guys will be on the flanks."

If we retreat now, those who just died will only receive ordinary compensation; but if they hold this place, it will be a different story.

"Boss!" the tall, thin man called out.

"You bastard, this is the army! Who's your boss? I'm telling you, you'll be punished when we get back!" Noodles roared, stopping his brothers.

Two of the five brothers died back then, and two years ago, the fourth brother also died. Now, only he and the second brother are left. He knows that the second brother is thinking that when you die, you lose everything.

Can you achieve something without putting in the effort?

A year ago, he suddenly received a letter from Ina. Apart from a simple greeting, the letter was full of questions about the army. Clearly, the princess wanted to know about things in the north. For some reason, she remembered a poor boy named Noodles that she knew from her childhood who was also in the army, so she sent a letter.

He replied, but there were no unnecessary words in the letter.

But after writing that letter, some thoughts arose in his mind. He wanted to write to Ina again, but he couldn't muster the courage.

The distance between the two is still too great; at least, they need to be a little closer.

Of course, he wasn't the kind of person who would risk his brothers' lives to advance his career before, and he still isn't now.

Therefore, he bore all the pressure alone.

Two years ago, when the fourth brother died, he advanced to the third level. Now, the noodles he transformed into are no longer as powerless as they used to be.

And in this way, he can use noodles to solidify into tentacles and simultaneously control dozens of guns.

Each person serves as a firing point.

That's why they were able to successfully charge up the hill from the low slope, wipe out an incomplete special company of the enemy, and occupy the high ground.

The military emphasizes obedience; if persuasion fails, everyone has no choice but to obey orders.

The second-in-command, responsible for the left flank, gritted his teeth. He knew very well that his boss was just putting up a tough fight. He had already exhausted a lot of energy during the initial assault. After all, ordinary muskets were not enough to deal with mage musketeers; they also needed to break through the enemy's armor before using magic muskets.

It consumes a great deal of physical and magical energy.

"Hold on, our support will be here soon."

Gary shouted loudly as he operated dozens of muskets.

One minute, five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes, which felt like two centuries, passed. Reinforcements still hadn't arrived, and nearly half of their company had already died. But what was worse was that they were running out of ammunition, and his own magic power was almost depleted.

The noodles slumped to the ground, the words "stop firing" and "surrender" stuck in their throats, wanting to come out but unable to.

He glanced at the second brother, smiled, and decided to push for another two minutes. After two minutes, he would be exhausted and collapse unconscious.

Given the second son's intelligence, once he's exhausted, he'll definitely get the others to cease fire and surrender.

He would probably be captured along with her. Being captured in itself wasn't a big deal, but given the princess's temperament, he would probably never have a chance.

Forget it, it's all just a dream. After I'm released, I'll find a job, get married, and live out my life peacefully.

With that thought in mind, the noodles, unable to hold on any longer, collapsed.

Chapter 564 You worry more about a person's fate than her mother, come on!

"Wake up, Lieutenant, Big Brother, noodles!"

Feeling a voice calling to him from the depths of his being, Noodles Garibaldi slowly opened his eyes and found it was his second son.

Looking around again, this was neither a prisoner-of-war camp nor a wounded soldiers' camp prepared for mages, but a very clean and somewhat spacious place.

Suddenly, Noodles spotted the blue-purple background with a golden eagle flag in the center and realized he was behind his own side.

Noodles looked puzzled and asked, "Were we redeemed so quickly?"

The second brother was both amused and exasperated. "Lieutenant, we won! When you fell, I was ready to surrender, but then reinforcements arrived and drove them back. A little over an hour later, the Empire withdrew its troops."

"Oh, right." The second brother, Curly, slapped his forehead as if he had remembered something, and immediately ran outside. But he hadn't gone two steps when Ronan came in.

Just as the second brother was about to bow, Ronan waved him off and walked to Noodles' bedside. "War hero, it's been a long time."

As Jian Tiao tried to get up, Ronan waved his hand again, "No need, just lie down. Our heroes, the role you played in repelling the enemy time and time again was crucial."

"I..." Noodles was so excited that he wanted to say so much, but he couldn't get a word out.

Ronan smiled slightly and patted Noodles on the shoulder. "You have time to write a letter now, don't you? I have something to do, so I'll be going now."

Upon hearing the word "trust," Noodles felt a chill run down his spine, but after pondering Ronan's words for a moment, he couldn't help but break into an excited smile.

By the time he realized what was happening, Ronan was already gone.

Everything, everything, was because he decided to hold on for two more minutes at that moment. If he hadn't held on and had instead raised the white flag, he would have faced a completely different situation. Although he wouldn't have been held accountable, since he had led his men in holding out for a long time, it was absolutely impossible for Ronan to come and visit him and say such things.

"So, did I choose fate, or did fate choose me?"

Noodles stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in thought.

On the same day, at night.

In a small room in a castle that was temporarily requisitioned as a command post, on a simple wooden bed.

Isabel sat in Ronan's lap, still wearing her Ministry of the Interior Security uniform. She had taken off her coat and put it aside, wearing only a black double-pocket shirt tucked into a blue-purple skirt and a pair of dark brown thin pantyhose.

Ronan slipped one hand inside the neckline, through the bra, and gently caressed Isabel's breasts; his other hand slipped inside the skirt, his fingers teasing her through her pantyhose and underwear.

"Aren't you annoying? I'm looking at something," Isabel said with a disdainful reproach.

She was looking at archival materials about "Noodles" Garibaldi.

Ronan rested his chin on Isabel's shoulder and whispered, "Isabel, you care about this even more than Anri, the mother."

Isabel raised her hand and elbowed Ronan, "It's all your fault for agreeing to let someone like that pursue Ina."

“I’m not against it, not just him, but any decent young man,” Ronan said. “Of course, it mainly depends on Ina’s own decision.”

Ronan still didn't want his daughter to marry a prince she had never even met.

Just then, Ronan noticed that Isabel frowned slightly.

"What's wrong?" Ronan asked curiously.

“This guy is too ambitious,” Isabel commented. “Someone like that might not be able to bring happiness to Ina.”

"Hehehe." Ronan couldn't help but laugh.

Isabel glared at Ronan sideways and said with a hint of sarcasm, "I almost forgot, you're that kind of person too."

“That’s right. Look at me and Anri, aren’t we very much in love?” Ronan said, gently kissing Isabel’s cheek. “Let’s not worry too much about the children.”

Isabel pinched Ronan's groping arm and retorted, "You make it sound so easy, but would you dare let Lucien choose for himself?"

“He’s the crown prince, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Ronan said.

Ronan himself was chosen by the late king.

"Let's not talk about that now, uh, what are you doing?" Just as Isabel was about to speak, Ronan's hand suddenly tore her pantyhose, pulled aside her underwear, and inserted his fingers inside.

Ronan put his other arm around Isabel. "Isabel, you're wet. Let's finish first, okay?"

Isabel paused for a moment, then said in a very soft voice, "Take it slow, don't be so rough, talk as you do it."

“Okay,” Ronan replied.

Then, he turned over, not pulling down the skirt but pushing it up, and didn't take off Isabel's shirt either. Ronan liked this kind of style of wearing clothes, especially uniforms. Then he spread Isabel's legs apart, rubbed his hands on the stockings for a while, took off his pants, leaned over and pressed down, and gently squeezed his thing in.

They kissed while gently thrusting in and out.

Ambriina has a sweet and lovely appearance, with a touch of naivety. She loves flowers and music, and although she is fair-skinned and soft-spoken, she is also fond of being rough and unrestrained.

Isabelle is beautiful, with a touch of heroism in her eyes. She likes realistic oil paintings and plays, loves sports, is in good health, but prefers gentle rhythms.

"What were you about to say?" Ronan asked.

"I think the empire is really going to retreat this time. According to statistics, of the more than 20,000 to nearly 30,000 who died, about 20,000 were people from other vassal states, while less than 10,000 of the emperor's own people died."

Isabel analyzed.

Previously willing to support the emperor and his vassals, they absolutely do not want to continue fighting. And the emperor, relying solely on his own people, cannot continue to fight against the Kingdom of Phos.

Therefore, the only option left is a complete withdrawal of troops.

“That’s true, but a new round of war is about to begin,” Ronan said.

"Hmm?" Isabelle looked slightly puzzled.

"The emperor recruited a group of magicians to serve him. Does that mean he will break all his promises just because he was defeated? This emperor will not disband the army. Instead, on the way back, he will change direction and wipe out those Protestant lords to fulfill his previous promises. He might even be ruthless and take action against his own people along the way."

Ronan explained and analyzed.

“That’s typical of him,” Isabel replied. Judging from the emperor’s behavior, he was patient and ruthless.

After a period of quiet thrusting, Isabel turned her face away and said in a weak voice, "Alright, you can hurry up now."

“Oh, my little Isa, you finally couldn’t resist?” Ronan teased.

Isabel snapped her teeth and said, "Who couldn't hold back? I know you bastard love to see me make a fool of myself, and you won't feel comfortable unless you really mess with me."

"How can you say she's ugly? My Isa, she's beautiful no matter what expression she has," Ronan coaxed.

"Enough with the nonsense." Isabel wrapped her legs around Ronan's waist, gripped the sheets tightly, closed her eyes, and prepared herself to be brutally fucked.

“Well then, here I come.” Ronan said, pulling out his penis, leaving only the head inside, ready to begin his powerful thrust.

Chapter 565 Everything depends on self-discipline; the front lines fire, the rear lines dance.

After seven or eight minutes of frenzied labor, Isabel slapped Ronan's thigh to make him stop.

Ronan slowed down, and Isabel began to lie on her back, panting heavily.

“Isa, it’s not good for you to keep it all in. It would be much better to shout it out,” Ronan said.

Isabel's body remained as stiff as a blower. "You want me to call out like her? Impossible."

For more than a decade, she has remained steadfast in this commitment.

Ronan pulled out, lifted Isabel's shapely, straight legs and pressed them tightly together, squeezing his penis between her stocking-covered thighs, and rested by having intercourse.

After doing this for a while, Ronan released Isabel's legs, stood up, and presented his semi-erect member to Isabel, saying, "It's a little soft now, Isabel."

Isabel reluctantly got up, crawled a few steps on the bed, knelt in front of Ronan, grasped the base of his penis with one hand, and began to give Ronan oral sex.