bookbashuk Chapter 198 The Second Bloodstained Bridge
Chapter 198 The Second Bloodstained Bridge
Chapter 129 The Second Bloodstained Bridge
If you had to describe Valanthi in one word right now, it would be chaos.
Utter chaos.
Ever since the Elephant Party's navy made a fool of itself in the war and was almost completely wiped out by the allied forces of the Three Daughters Kingdom, the Elephant Party's status has plummeted.
Without military power, one can't really stand tall.
Afterwards, when the remaining navy mutinied, the Elephant Party became even more frantic in attacking the Khan Tiger Party in the Senate, and even refused the intervention of Tiger Party soldiers to suppress the sailors' uprising.
The reason is simple: if they get involved, they won't be able to keep an eye on the Navy, their private territory, anymore, because the Tiger Party will definitely drive a wedge into it.
This was something they could not tolerate, even though they knew that the Tiger Party's help in suppressing the sailors' riot would allow the nation to focus its energy on the war against the Kingdom of the Three Daughters.
Then came the blood-stained bridge incident!
This incident is practically a slap in the face to the Tiger Party.
"My esteemed Tiger Party colleagues, are your invincible General Marcus and his undefeated Tiger Robe Army truly hunting down stray dogs, or serving as a ceremonial guard for the enemy's triumphant parade?"
"The Kingdom of the Three Daughters is already a grasshopper in autumn? Then how did this grasshopper manage to jump into our house, leave its mark on the pillar in the living room, and even write such an extremely vulgar letter? This is trampling on the face of Valantis for two thousand years!"
"Is the Tiger Robe Army's duty to defend Valantis, or to provide footnotes to the enemy's legendary exploits?"
Inside the Senate, spittle flew, and accusations and retorts clashed like poisoned arrows. The Tiger Party, exhausted from defending themselves, grew enraged; the Elephant Party, emboldened by its position, pressed on relentlessly.
Shifting blame is far more proactive than thinking about how to deal with a crisis. The disgrace at Changqiao failed to unite the people; instead, it became the sharpest weapon for internal attacks.
What about the wealthy merchants? They complained bitterly because shipping routes were cut off; the war also severely affected land trade routes, causing large quantities of goods to pile up in warehouses, and gold coins no longer jingled as they flowed into their pockets. The shadow of bankruptcy hovered over them like an eagle.
Officers began to form cliques, preferring to pledge their loyalty to a faction leader who promised more spoils and promotions than to the nation of "Valantis." Factions sprang up even within the small military camps, with clandestine alliances forming and ambitions quietly growing in the turbulent soil.
The entire upper echelons of Valantis are mired in a quagmire of assassinations, marriage alliances, espionage, and other espionage activities. It's a complete replica of Rhys's "Shadow Wars" from '98 AC!
However, even the most pessimistic elders did not expect that the enemy army, which should have fled like stray dogs, would launch an incredibly arrogant counterattack.
"Wow, Valentis, I'm back!" Severta was as unrestrained as ever, the breeze ruffling his wild black hair. He brandished the harpoon in his hand and excitedly turned to Tiberius.
"Captain, in the name of the Drowning God, destroy this city quickly! With lightning, or flood, or even a tsunami—I can't wait to see these silk-clad wimps floundering in the sea!"
"No, Sevita, I've said it many times, the Drowned God didn't protect me." Tiberius looked up from the map with a sigh, rubbing his temples in exasperation.
"That lightning bolt—it really was just an accident; that guy Varo himself was holding up the bronze flag and summoning lightning into the sky."
But Servita wouldn't listen.
"An accident?" Sevita shook his head vigorously, his face clearly saying, "You're kidding me."
"Captain, how can mortals fathom the will of the Drowning God? Does he need a reason to act? That lightning struck so accurately and at such a precise time—what else could it be but protection for you?"
"At sea, this is the clearest sign! Every Ironborn who aspires to rise above others and make their name resound throughout the seas should follow the captain marked by the Drowned God with unwavering loyalty!"
"Besides, Captain, you don't even own a ship, and you've barely even been on one, yet you've obtained so much loot from those landlubbers—enough gold and silver to last several lifetimes! And you've led us to kill so many armored turtles; what will happen at sea?"
When he got excited, he brandished the harpoon, completely absorbed in his imagined glory.
"The entire Narrow Sea, no, the entire ocean of the world, must be our bathtub! Then, according to the will of the Drowning God, we will burn, kill, loot, and commit all sorts of atrocities!"
"So, Captain, what are you planning to do next?" Sevita asked. "Since the Drowned God isn't planning to destroy this city today, what are we here for?"
"Me?" Tippi smiled slightly and tossed the map in his hand to Sevita.
"Something very bold, my friend!"
When the familiar, tattered banner of Jules' Legion reappeared on the west bank of the Long Bridge, the Valantis almost thought they had seen a ghost.
The troops guarding the bridge were still the private soldiers of the nobles and the bodyguards of the merchant guild. They might have been a little more vigilant than last time, but their choices remained very honest in the face of the battle-hardened veterans who had truly crawled out of the hell of blood and fire.
"Brothers, three shouts before the battle is enough. Why bother for that little bit of money!"
Then, they readily dropped their weapons and fled before their employer's horrified eyes.
But this time, Jules's army did not rush to charge across the bridge.
Calvin commanded a small number of cavalrymen, who tied tree branches to their horses' tails and galloped back and forth behind the bridge, raising clouds of dust to create the illusion that a massive army was about to invade. Old Tom beat the drums frantically in front of the lines, while Vito and Severta rallied everyone and shouted at the top of their lungs.
"The Tiger-Robed Army has been defeated! The Tiger-Robed Army has been defeated!"
"[Summer Storm] Flees without a fight! [Twilight Raiders] Collapse in disarray!"
"We lost? That can't be!"
"Yes, didn't General Marcus say that he was invincible in the disputed lands? How come both legions were suddenly defeated?"
""
Then, Tiberius leisurely rode his horse and slowly walked to the Long Bridge Port.
Under the astonished gazes of both sides' soldiers, Tiberius walked with a steady gait, even carrying a hint of leisurely arrogance, as if he were walking not on a perilous path to the enemy's heart, but on the corridor of his own manor.
The Valantis peered around, eager to know what this incredibly young war god had to say.
He walked to the end of the long bridge near the east bank, just inches from the black wall and the terrified guards, then stopped and scanned everyone with his eyes.
His clear and resounding voice shattered the deathly silence, each word like a whip lashing the faces of the Valantis: "Valantis's rulers! Are you only fit to hide behind thick black walls, cowering like turtles? Look at your city, look at your army! What can you do besides infighting and complaining?"
He deliberately raised his voice, letting his words echo across the river.
"I have not come here to trample this cowardly city once again. I have only come to tell you one fact: among you, only the general who fought us in this contested land is a true adversary!"
"If he were truly the king of Valantis, my head would already be hanging atop your walls!"
"What a pity, what a pity," he sighed, shaking his head. "A general as strong as a lion, soldiers as strong as lions, yet led by a flock of sheep!"
Before he finished speaking, he suddenly threw the bundles he was carrying on horseback onto the open space at the bridgehead.
The bundle was unpacked, revealing several mangled, but still recognizable, heads of Valantis Tiger Robe Army generals, along with some bloodstained swords and scepters representing high-ranking officers, which rolled to the ground, appearing particularly glaring in the setting sun.
"The military flag!"
"What? How is this possible?" a citizen exclaimed in horror. "The military flag has fallen into his hands?"
"My God, what is he doing—"
"The banner of the Fourteenth Legion, the Twilight Raiders." Tiberius tossed the banner to the ground. "Oh, and by the way, that Varo guy is dead too."
"Varo? General Varo? He's dead?"
"This—impossible, absolutely impossible! Those are the [Twilight Raiders], not to mention the main force of the [Summer Storm]!"
Tiberius's face showed utter contempt.
"Look closely! This is the elite force you relied on! Eight thousand Tiger-Robed Army soldiers (he deliberately exaggerated the number) have been completely annihilated by us on the banks of the Lorne River! Even your last hope is nothing more than this!"
"Impossible!" an officer roared.
"That's eight thousand people! Eight thousand people! Even if you ate eight thousand steamed buns, you couldn't finish them all!"
"Is that so?" Tippi smiled dismissively, as if he had expected someone to question him. He then took out a small cloth bag and tossed it in front of the officer who had asked the question.
"Take a good look, brave soldier." Tippi smirked, his face showing disdain.
"I estimate, around eight hundred gold rings?" He deliberately drew out the words. "I've heard that in your Valantis, only knights can use gold spurs, and infantrymen and officers—only they can have gold rings—"
Having said that, he didn't look at the terrified or angry Valantis again, resolutely turned around, and walked slowly towards the west bank along the path he had come from.
His figure, silhouetted against the swirling dust and the crimson sunset, appeared both frail and imposing. Only when his silhouette safely disappeared into the dust and smoke of the western bank did the symbolic "army" recede like the tide, leaving behind only the desolate Valantis on the eastern end of the bridge and the silent spoils on the ground that spoke of their crushing defeat and humiliation.
"There seems to be a letter inside the package—" Someone opened the package tremblingly and found a letter in addition to the ring.
"Should we give it to the Senate?"
"Otherwise what?"
"Here we go again! Is he doing this on purpose? Is he doing it on purpose?" A veteran of the Elephant Party stood up and shouted angrily.
"Last time, that letter was enough to embarrass us, and now he's doing it again?"
"No, read it aloud," a Tiger Party elder sighed.
"I bet someone already saw it on the way here."
Tiberius's second letter:
I presume you have already received the "little gifts" we left behind—the heads of several Tiger Robe Army commanders, and many gold rings. I hope they haven't overly frightened you gentlemen who are accustomed to discussing state affairs on silk cushions. After all, real war is far bloodier than the verbal battles in the Senate.
We are writing again not out of nostalgia, but out of a touch of pity.
We saw that in the vast city of Valantis, not a single living person dared to stand on the other side of the long bridge and speak to us face to face. Only a group of pale-faced shadows huddled behind the ramparts. This made us wonder: did your famous black walls protect your city, or your cowardice?
We have no intention of boasting about the Tiger Robe Army's military exploits.
Slaughtering a flock of sheep driven to the brink of destruction by foolish orders is nothing to be proud of.
We simply feel sorry for the soldiers who died. They could have been better warriors, but they died in vain trying to save face for a bunch of old men who couldn't even quell a port rebellion.
Their blood should be used to stain the enemy's land, not to irrigate the endless thorns of intrigue in your Senate.
We especially want to send our greetings to our "old friend"—the general who is on his way back. Please be sure to tell him that we extend to him—well, our most "sincere" sympathy.
He fought valiantly on the front lines, but he was defending a regime that was shooting arrows at him from behind. We defeated his vanguard so that he would see clearly what kind of people he was loyal to.
If he had any sense left, he would know that sacrificing himself for the rotten ship of Valantis would be the most worthless sacrifice in the world.
Of course, if he insists on seeking revenge for his colleagues, we welcome him at any time. After all, defeating a real general is far more interesting than toying with a bunch of bureaucrats, a bunch of parasites, and a group of cowards.
Finally, let us offer you a piece of advice: there's no need to waste any more effort sending pursuers. Save those precious soldiers and resources to appease the angry sailors in your ports or to replenish your empty treasuries.
If you really have nothing to do, you might as well continue with the internal power struggles you do best.
After all, when foreign enemies attack, what could be more entertaining than shifting blame onto the public to appease their anger? Especially since this also carries significant political benefits—
Tsk tsk tsk, even I'm tempted!
We are about to continue our journey. Perhaps one day, when the name of Valantis exists only in moldy history books, future generations will remember that an army once crossed your long bridge twice as if it were empty, and your only response was to shut the city gates tightly and—more fiercely accuse each other.
May you spend the rest of your lives in suspicion, fear, and irreversible decline, day and night.
P.S.: Last time Sevita peed under the pillar, this time I'm too lazy to do it, you don't deserve it.
P.S.: Sevita said that next time he'll personally make you all take a dump at the city gate.