Soul Of Negary

The Desolates’ resistance had gotten increasingly weaker.

Yun Yi suddenly felt a sense of unease.

Victory against the Desolates was within their expectations, but it felt a bit too easy. Even though the Desolates had made a strategic mistake that ended up being taken advantage of by the Celestials, the Desolates was still acting a bit too helpless.

The Desolates’ army hadn’t simply disappeared, they’d merely been rendered unable to fight a drawn-out battle due to the lack of supplies, so realistically speaking, the Desolates should be reorganizing their troops against the threat of the Celestials’ flash combat troops.

This group of fighter jets and armored tanks was essentially a big chunk of the Celestials’ resources, and flash combat tactics were in essence concentrated firepower to eliminate the enemy’s forces before they could fight back, so if they were successfully defended against, they would instead fall into danger.

Due to the success of flash combat tactics so far, the Celestials had already dug deep into the Desolates’ territory, thus stretching their frontline over a large distance, so if they couldn’t take advantage of this to completely break the enemy’s ability to retaliate, they would be the one in an awkward position instead.

“What exactly are they doing?”

Yun Yi commanded his troops to quickly clean up the battlefield and settle their territory. They then summoned some of the Desolates who had some level of comprehension, gave them some privileges, then had them help construct a new base.

The Celestial army had sent out people to search for traces of the Desolate army, but despite being able to find a large number of traces, they couldn’t find any Desolates through those traces, as if they had simply vanished.

“It’s clear that stretching our frontline should have given us considerable trouble” Yun Yi waved his hand to dismiss his subordinates and pondered the possible whereabouts of the Desolate army on his sand table.

The Desolates had no problem with explosively exerting their power, surpassing even armored tanks without issues for a short period of time, but when it came to durability, Desolates paled in comparison to machines.

As long as machines had fuel, they’d be able to continuously operate. The armored tanks and vehicles that the Celestials created through fantasy technology could run for anywhere from 3-5 years straight without stopping, while a Desolate Warrior would have already been dead tired after moving at high speed for around a few hours at most.

Even a Grand Shaman, despite being able to move at speeds comparable to that of a fighter jet by exerting their Totems, would still require rest. If a Grand Shaman continuously exerted their Totems for three days straight, they would indeed be able to traverse a large distance, but they would also drain all of their stamina, arriving at the battlefield with essentially zero combat strength.

Of course, that was only taking pure endurance into consideration. Every Totem had its own strange and unusual abilities, so there was bound to be one that could teleport; and if the Desolates gathered a group of elites to be teleported by a single person’s ability, then they would indeed be able to transport a group of combatants all over the place.

Up to this point, the Celestials had also been watching out for such an elite hit squad, whereas if it was just a normal group of soldiers, the Celestials would be able to quickly react and reorganize themselves for battle thanks to their mobility.

But very unexpectedly, these Desolates had all practically vanished without a trace, allowing them to gradually take over the Desolates’ territory and slowly settle down.

“All 12 Grand Shamans and Meng Luo himself have not shown up on the battlefield at all, most likely attempting to mount some sort of resistance” Yun Yi sighed.

He could sense that there would be some sort of obstacle waiting for them all at the very end of this all.

“How’s the propaganda efforts going?” Yun Yi asked Po Nan, currently acting as the head of propaganda, as he saw him after leaving his office.

Compared to the Desolates, there were simply too few Celestials, and most of them were all caught up in battle, so after they fought back most of the Desolate resistance, both territory management and construction started to become an issue to be resolved.

And so, the department of propaganda came into existence when it was necessary.

For most Celestials, they were born with knowledge, as Negary’s information was engraved into their bloodline, but it wasn’t the same for the Desolate Republic’s citizens, where segregation was severe.

The inferior Desolates’ sense of self had devolved so much that even their intelligence had dropped. They didn’t know anything but how to become a Warrior, since only Warriors were treated like normal people, leading to their culture becoming dry and one-dimensional.

After all, only Warriors were qualified to pay any attention to culture, but just becoming a Warrior wasn’t enough as the stronger one was, the more privileges they gained. This resulted in the majority of Warriors’ life consisting of training, competing for resources, then training again, literal training machines.

In the end, each one of them became fluent in Totems, offerings, and various knowledge of the same nature, experts in scheming, planning, and stealing resources; but if you tried to discuss ideals and aspirations with them, the only thing they could do was pull a sword and say:

[This such and such’s life is my own, I don’t need to explain myself to you]

In a pleasant manner, they could be described as being straightforward, but to say it frankly, they had nothing in their heads except 200 grams of flesh.

Other than that, they also had a sense of racial pride that was forcefully shoved into their heads.

[As a young Desolate, I’m so proud of all the seniors that came before me in this land that we own]

And then each of them were more of an expert grave robber compared to the rest, with nothing except ‘resources’ in their eyes. After all, what was good about a predecessor’s grave if it couldn’t be dug back up?

Without culture, any sense of racial pride or glory was simply a result of brainwashing.

And so, on the very day that the Celestials broke through their blockades and took over their territory, after a group of Desolates that had been thoroughly brainwashed jumped in to be killed, the remaining Desolate Warriors just ran away.

While they still lived in a tribal society, the Desolates grew up and lived their everyday lives within their own tribes, so they had a relatively strong sense of empathy towards their tribes. At this time, a sense of pride from the tribe they were born in was relatively normal, considering it was the place they could always return to after a hunt.

But when the Desolate Republic was formed, Desolates were born en masse, then had their latent potential measured. Those with great potential would receive meticulous training, while those with normal potential would be thrown to a public training ground to receive a minimum level of education, then each given a certain period of time.

If they could become a Warrior during that time, they’d become the upper class, while those who couldn’t become Warriors would be sent straight to the production line.

As for those with little to no potential, they’d be considered inferior Desolates and sent to the public training ground, where they’d be sent straight to production work as soon as they reach a certain age without being given an opportunity to even change their lives.

For this reason, other than those with great potential, the feeling of racial pride that most Desolates carried were essentially a result of brainwashing.

After the Celestials took over this place, they began spreading the concept and knowledge of the path of eternal peace, gradually normalizing their thought process. As long as they felt empathy towards the Celestials’ path of eternal peace, anyone could become a Celestial.

At first, these Desolates all felt nothing but fear towards these ‘Demons’ who attacked and caused them casualties with flying machines that dropped explosions.

They were all afraid of being sacrificed as offerings, but the more they came into contact with them and taught those difficult politics classes, they gradually understood who they were, who the Celestials and Demons were, what kind of organization they were, and how this war came about.

One’s vision determined their behaviors, and even war culture was culture. When it came to this aspect, the Celestials surpassed the Desolates by miles. As long as a Desolate took the time to seriously understand what kind of existence the Celestials were, they wouldn’t be able to help themselves empathizing with the Celestials.

Even if they didn’t want to join the Celestials and become a part of Negary, they would still be able to choose to join the Impure Hermit Order of their own volition.

Without family members, without lovers, having understood the essence of the President and Grand Shamans that they once worshipped, the majority of Desolates chose to join the Celestials. Strength lets you beat someone into submission, but cannot forcefully convince them.

…

“Don’t even mention it, I have a class right now!” Po Nan smiled wryly and replied.

After learning basic knowledge, all of these Desolates had shown themselves to be exceptionally eager, surrounding him to ask about all sorts of knowledge and ideals every day.

While he and Yun Yi were talking here, quite a few Desolates had already gathered and waited for him.

“Be on your way then” Yun Yi nodded and watched as Po Nan approached the Desolates.

All of a sudden, he felt something strange about those Desolates. This was only an inexplicable omen that Yun Yi felt out of the blue, but the closer those Desolates approached Po Nan, the unease he felt grew stronger.

…

Deep underground, a multi-faced snake opened its numerous crimson eyes: 「 Desolates, heed my order! 」 𝙛𝙧𝙚𝒆𝘸𝚎𝙗𝒏oν𝙚𝘭.𝐜𝒐m

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