Chapter 11: A Generation That Died (1)

This was Kent Harbor’s first clear day in a month. The sun hung high, bringing the stifling heat unique to early summer.

Sunlight fell upon the blood-stained earth, yet it brought no warmth. 

Instead, it made the land appear even more hideous.

Broken weapons, shattered armor, and unrecognizable limbs and organs littered the blood-spattered ground everywhere.

Annoying flies swarmed and buzzed over the mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.

Citizens gathered before the gates of the Containment Zone. 

Their eyes were filled with fear and unease.

They whispered among themselves, trying to glean more information from one another, but every face was etched with confusion.

Their voices sounded unusually low in the stifling air.

They were firmly blocked by a wall of police officers and could not approach the area that had turned into a living hell.

The bodies of police officers and Iron Spear Society members were arranged neatly in rows, covered with clean white sheets.

Yet that pristine white looked so out of place against the blood-red earth.

The accompanying priest prayed softly for them. His voice echoed in the stifling air with a slight tremble, as if trying to grant them final peace.

The demonkin corpses, however, were casually piled into freshly dug pits.

Their stench mingled with the buzzing of flies, creating a nauseating scene.

The officers exerted great effort to finally pry open the severely damaged black steam armor.

The moment the armor was opened, a green-skinned orc corpse popped out from within.

Its left chest cavity had a massive hole. Its heart and lungs had been shattered. Its body also bore numerous fractures caused by impact.

Doubt filled everyone’s hearts. 

They could not understand how this monster had managed to pilot the armor and fight through an entire night despite such severe injuries.

Last night, Kent had lost seventy-one police officers, nine members of the Iron Spear Society, and one Supervisory Official from the Cerberus Bureau.

The Mutual Aid Society’s ships had taken away over a thousand demonkin.

The remaining three thousand-plus residents stayed in the Containment Zone. 

They were now being driven out of the ruined residential buildings by the police and forced to gather in the central square of the Containment Zone.

Demonkin residents of various races crowded into the small square.

Some had hidden inside the small church or the office building to escape the midday sun.

The church in the Containment Zone was small and dilapidated.

Yet inside this nearly collapsing building, before the statue of Queen Christine, people were packed tightly.

Whether green-skinned orcs or wood-skinned treants, they all closed their eyes and clasped their hands, as if praying to the statue for protection and salvation.

Liz sat in the back row of the church. Her gaze fell upon those devoutly praying demonkin residents.

After sending the unconscious Claire to the hospital in the city center, she had immediately returned to the Containment Zone.

Liz was currently the only active commissioner of the Cerberus Bureau in the entire city. She should participate in the cleanup of this incident.

Liz recognized the orc girl who had once deceived Claire.

She stood up and walked forward, only to find an elderly orc dressed in priest’s robes blocking the little girl behind him.

“Vampire miss,” the old orc’s voice was earnest. “This child was only deceived by the beautiful dreams painted by the Mutual Aid Society. Please forgive her ignorance.”

Liz nodded. Her gaze softened slightly. “I understand. But what concerns me more is why you chose not to leave?”

“We are old,” the old orc sighed. His tone was filled with vicissitudes. 

“These little ones are still too young. Where could we escape to? Only those young people with hearts higher than the sky boarded the ships. They thought that was freedom, but they do not know that what awaits them may be even deeper despair.”

Liz was silent for a moment, then said softly, “If you left with your kin, perhaps you would be safer.”

The old orc shook his head. His eyes revealed deep worry. 

“Safer? Heh, that is only a temporary illusion. That brat Azog thought that by putting on the Southern Continent’s novel toys he could resist Queen Christine’s army? Christine is the emperor of the human world. She is a god. Her followers are still alive. Poor young people. They are destined not to get far.”

At this point, flames seemed to ignite in the old orc’s eyes. It was the gaze of one who had experienced the battlefield.

But when he spoke of Queen Christine, those flames seemed extinguished by a cold wind, leaving only trembling embers.

“You were a prisoner of war from seventy years ago?” Liz asked in surprise. She had never imagined that this elderly-looking priest had such a heavy past.

The old orc nodded. His voice was low and hoarse. 

“I once witnessed humanity’s terror with my own eyes… We cherish the mercy granted by Queen Christine. But unfortunately, the young do not understand. They are blinded by hatred and anger, thinking that violence can solve everything.”

“But how can I blame that foolish child Azog?” the old orc continued. His tone was filled with grief. 

“He merely repeated the mistake that every demonkin who came to the surface made back then… We thought sacrifice could bring better days for our race, but sacrifice only brings more sacrifice.”

Liz asked no more questions. She silently looked around at the surrounding demonkin residents.

Like the demonkin who had rioted last night, they had sharp fangs and claws, yet at this moment they all resembled devout believers.

The old orc took the hands of the children around him. They were of different races and forms, yet at this moment they naturally joined hands to form a circle.

“Come, children. Let us pray for our departed kin.” The old orc priest’s voice was deep, carrying an undeniable power.

“We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry in our bodies the death granted by God, so that the life granted by God may also be revealed in our bodies.”

That was scripture from the holy text. The demonkin residents in the church followed along in low voices.

Demonkin residents were herded to the edges of the square. Their eyes were filled with fear and confusion.

They whispered among themselves from time to time.

The bald mayor stood in the center of the square. His expression was grave.

A group of tense-looking government officials clustered around him. 

Their gazes occasionally turned toward the sky, as if waiting for some important moment to arrive.

A deafening dragon roar tore through the sky.

A massive figure descended upon the square like a dark cloud, blocking out the sun. Dust billowed.

Everyone in the square retreated in terror, staring in horror at the sudden behemoth.

It was a fire dragon. Its size was not large—it was still a sub-adult—but its entire body of crimson scales shone with a terrifying light under the sun.

It shook violently. Its enormous body stirred the surrounding air.

Then it threw its head back and let out a long roar. 

The sound seemed capable of tearing eardrums, making every heart present tremble.

“Escreis! Honored Dragon Guard, welcome to Kent!” the mayor shouted loudly. 

His voice carried a slight tremble.

He struggled to maintain a calm facade, but the fear in his eyes could not be hidden.

The dragon’s name was a transliteration from dragon language. 

Dragon language syllables were completely different from human speech, so dragon names often sounded long and strange in human mouths.

Even after the war, when the fire dragon clan was assigned as Dragon Guards to various ducal territories to assist local security, most fire dragons still refused to learn human culture. 

Even fewer had mastered the art of assuming human form.

The fire dragon turned its long neck. 

Its golden vertical pupils looked toward the mayor.

Then it let out a responding roar.

Several elves in white robes lightly jumped down from the fire dragon’s back. 

They had pointed ears.

Their white robes were embroidered with the crest of a one-eyed raven—that was the emblem of the Muni Institute of Orfa University.

“Hello, Lady Miriel. Kent will fully cooperate with the Muni Institute’s work. Please feel free to give your orders,” the mayor bowed to the leading golden short-haired girl. His voice held a bit more humility.

However, the girl called Miriel did not pay him much attention.

She looked around, as if searching for something important.

“Where is the iron puppet? Where are the armor and the orc from your report?” Miriel’s voice was cold and urgent.

Upon hearing this, the mayor quickly waved for officers to bring the severely damaged steam armor and Azog’s corpse before Miriel.

Several officers struggled to carry the heavy armor, while Azog’s body was casually thrown onto the ground, looking especially desolate.

The silent white-robed elves quickly gathered around. They squatted beside Azog’s corpse.

From metal cases they took out various sharp tools—skinning knives, lancets, hatchets, and even unknown fork-shaped instruments.

Their gazes were focused and cold, like a pack of ghouls about to feed.

Amidst a series of faint metallic cutting sounds, Azog’s corpse was skillfully dismembered.

The elves’ movements were swift and precise. They conversed in low voices. 

Their words were muffled and vague, adding to the oppressive atmosphere for onlookers.

The snake-shaped machine clinging to Azog’s spine was slowly removed. 

Its interior was filled with golden fine needles that glinted with an eerie light under the sun.

“The parameters of the machine body are no different from the ones we replicated at the institute.”

“Why did our startup experiments never succeed?”

“So the secret of the energy source lies in the pilot?”

“Then let’s remove this green-skinned fellow’s organs and take them back for proper study.”

The voices gradually faded, eventually becoming only indistinct murmurs.

The elves placed the needed organs into metal containers and loaded the containers onto the fire dragon’s back.

The remaining corpse fragments lay alone on the ground.

Miriel gently raised her hand. Flames gathered at her fingertips. She hurled them fiercely at the fragments.

In an instant, fire shot into the sky, swallowing everything.

“Kill the remaining demonkin as well. A mass incident should be resolved en masse.” There was not a trace of emotion in Miriel’s tone. 

It was as if this was merely a small part of handling daily affairs.

The mayor’s lips trembled. He could hardly believe the order he had just heard.

He struggled to spit out a few words. 

“…Kill them all? Those left behind are the old, the weak, women, and children. Their crimes do not warrant death.”

There was not the slightest wavering in Miriel’s eyes.

She replied coldly, “A riot in the Containment Zone will severely damage your position. Moreover, your failure to stop the Mutual Aid Society’s plan only makes things worse. Why don’t we solve the problem in a win-win way? The frenzied demonkin are all terrorists. Under the mayor’s command, the Kent County police wiped out all the terrorists, and the Dragon Guard arrived in time to assist in the suppression. This story is not bad, is it?”

“This is not my idea. It is its idea, you know.” Miriel’s voice carried a hint of mockery.

She raised her chin, signaling the mayor to look at the fire dragon.

The mayor looked up. The fire dragon named Escreis. Its golden vertical pupils seemed able to see through the fear in people’s hearts.

The mayor understood. This Dragon Guard from the eastern coastal duchy had already made its choice.

Rather than directly confronting the Mutual Aid Society’s headquarters, this dragon had chosen to massacre demonkin civilians as a way to embellish its achievements.

And now it was inviting him to join this deception.

A wave of powerless anger rose in the mayor’s heart, yet he had nowhere to vent it.

“Think about your future. You might even get promoted to the capital to become an official. Your batch of officers will also be promoted collectively.” Miriel lightly patted the mayor’s shoulder. Her voice was seductive, as if all sins could be covered by power and glory.

The mayor fell silent. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When he opened them again, his eyes were already clouded. He knew he had no choice.

“Still can’t make up your mind? Then let us help you!” Miriel’s voice suddenly turned sharp.

She shouted a segment of dragon language that humans could not decipher.

The fire dragon seemed to respond to her call. It threw its head back and let out a long hiss. The sound was like a cold laugh from hell, making one’s blood run cold.

The next moment, incandescent flames spewed from between the dragon’s teeth.

In an instant, they engulfed the group of demonkin directly in front of the fire dragon.

Stone bricks melted in the high temperature. Glass on the buildings swept across like a storm.

Everything in their path left only charred traces and cries of despair.

The police officers stood frozen on the spot. They had witnessed this tragedy, yet no one dared to voice a protest.

The surviving demonkin wailed in the flames. Their eyes were filled with helplessness and fear.

The mayor stood dazed for a moment.

Then he collapsed and shouted loudly, “Open fire! Open fire! These demonkin bastards are all Mutual Aid Society people!” His voice was filled with resolve and madness.

The surrounding police glanced at each other. A flicker of hesitation flashed in their eyes, but it was quickly replaced by the desire for revenge.

They all chambered rounds into their rifles.

Gunshots rang out. A rain of bullets wove through the air, causing the demonkin residents’ bodies to dance in the sky.

Blood dyed the white bricks of the square red. The air was thick with a heavy stench of blood.

The police cordon surrounding the square gradually tightened.

They advanced steadily, each step treading upon the despair of the demonkin residents.

The officers at the front were responsible for shooting.

Those following behind carried bayonets to check the corpses, ensuring every demonkin resident had lost their life.

There was no expression on their faces, yet they all seemed to be smiling.