Drawing Cards in the Middle Ages to Rise in Ranks

Chapter 873 - 97: The Impact of War

The massive London lay moored on the open ground inside the mountain, yet still looked rather cramped.

Colonel Brown was the first to walk out of the hatch; at once, the Wolf Race soldiers who had long been standing by raised their motley assortment of guns and surrounded him.

Colonel Brown pointed up above with a wry smile. "Gentlemen, there’s really no need to be this nervous."

Overhead, the Demon Dragon still watched them with its pair of golden eyes; under those broad wings, one floating airship after another had no choice but to seek out open ground on their own to land.

Just now, a few airships had refused to surrender and tried to flee during descent; they were directly turned into torches by Dragon Flame. With that object lesson before them, no one dared harbor any other thoughts.

Centurion Leon gave a cold snort and ordered, "Spread out and leave a clear patch for our guests. Colonel, are you the captain of this big ship?"

Colonel Brown nodded. "That’s right."

"Then please have you and your soldiers throw all the Weapons you’re carrying on you over here. You’d best not play any tricks. A lot of people here lost their loved ones in this war; I can’t guarantee they’ll stay calm."

Colonel Brown gave a bitter smile. "We’ll do as you instruct, sir. In any case, this damned war is already over—none of us wants to see any more bloodshed."

The Texans methodically began taking the prisoners into custody.

As the flames of war finally died away, the great Demon Dragon circling in the sky sank back into the depths of the earth once more.

The grim dungeon of Wolf Castle was suddenly opened. The great dictator Porfirio, wrapped in a tattered blanket, shouted excitedly, "Hahaha! You damned Texas bastards, wolf pups, now you know enough to come begging me to get out? I’m telling you—no way!"

He still thought the mountain city was on the verge of being taken by the British Army, and that the Texans had let him out in hopes he could mediate between the two sides.

The jailer gave him a cold look and couldn’t help muttering, "Idiot, this guy must have gone mad, huh?"

Then he pushed in a line of British Army soldiers in crisp uniforms into the dungeon.

Porfirio and the rest of the Mexican officers were dumbfounded at the sight; he couldn’t help letting out a shrill laugh. "To fool me, you even found a whole bunch of actors, hahahaha! Next you’re going to tell me the army of Great Britain has been beaten by you Texas bastards, aren’t you?"

Colonel Brown understood Spanish, and his face turned a bit awkward.

Before this war broke out, no one had imagined it would end like this.

...

Atop the Tower of Wolf Castle.

Losa’s figure appeared beside Juliano. It was only a projection; he no longer had the ability to switch between human body and dragon form. If he weren’t about to leave this world, he would have been forced to spend the rest of his life within the Basilicata Mountains.

"Mr. Losa, you actually did it!"

Juliano, overwhelmed with excitement, lunged forward, only to grab at empty air.

He stared blankly at Losa’s illusory figure. "Sir, this is..."

Losa shook his head with a smile and didn’t explain, only saying, "Mr. Juliano, the war is about to end, but the real test is only just beginning."

Juliano hurriedly nodded. "I understand. Sir, your current state is..."

Losa gave a brief explanation. Seeing Juliano’s grave expression, he smiled again to reassure him. "Don’t worry. By the time we meet again, I’ll be back to how I used to be."

"You’re leaving already?"

"Mm. I came here indeed to bid you farewell."

The joy on Juliano’s face gradually faded, and he let out a long sigh. "I don’t know if, in this lifetime, we’ll ever have the chance to meet again."

Losa’s smile was gentle. "We will. Whether it’s me, Nina, Nia, or Anna and the others, we all very much want to see how the Ideal State in their hearts will develop in the future. Before I go, I’ll give you one last gift."

"I can’t take this new body with me. Once my will leaves it, it’ll turn back into that slumbering Mountain Spirit of old."

"If you offer sacrifices to it often, and I guide it, it will become the Guardian God of your Texas."

Losa said with a smile, "Every great power needs a heavy weapon. With a Guardian Dragon God like this, you’ll have that much more confidence when dealing with the gentlemen of the great powers."

Juliano fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "At least stay one more night—let’s gather with everyone, and celebrate the victory we’ve won."

"All right."

...

The news that Texas had defeated the British Expedition Army spread across Europe like a plague.

On the British Isles, countless citizens poured into the streets, raising their arms in protest, demanding an explanation from the government and harsh punishment for those responsible for this defeat.

On Ireland Island, at the docks of Dublin, under the gaze of a crowd of dockworkers, a gentleman holding a newspaper and wearing a top hat raised his arm and shouted, "Even the Texans far away in the New Continent can, with courage and outdated Equipment, defeat those damned British who ride on our necks and throw their weight around. Are we Irish lacking the courage to stand up and resist?"

"Our Celtic ancestors are the true masters of the Emerald Island. The whole world will support our just struggle against invasion and oppression."

"Stand up, all who refuse to remain slaves!"

Paris.

People ran about, spreading the news.

Everyone wore a look of jubilation. Ever since the Hundred Years’ War, that island nation separated from them by only a channel had been the deepest enemy in every French heart. It seemed that every time the French nation was about to soar, a big British hand would drag her back into the mire.

...

The last few Soldiers to wake up, when they opened their eyes, saw only

People ran about, spreading the news.

Everyone wore a look of jubilation. Ever since the Hundred Years’ War, that island nation separated from them by only a channel had been the deepest enemy in every French heart. It seemed that every time the French nation was about to soar, a big British hand would drag her back into the mire.

...

The last few Soldiers to wake up, when they opened their eyes, saw only

People ran about, spreading the news.

Everyone wore a look of jubilation. Ever since the Hundred Years’ War, that island nation separated from them by only a channel had been the deepest enemy in every French heart. It seemed that every time the French nation was about to soar, a big British hand would drag her back into the mire.

...

The last few Soldiers to wake up, when they opened their eyes, saw only

People ran about, spreading the news.

Everyone wore a look of jubilation. Ever since the Hundred Years’ War, that island nation separated from them by only a channel had been the deepest enemy in every French heart. It seemed that every time the French nation was about to soar, a big British hand would drag her back into the mire.

...

The last few Soldiers to wake up, when they opened their eyes, saw only