In mid-April 848, the civil unrest of the Republic of Negru was quelled. The former great magician and the new president, Piru Manino, issued the No. 1 presidential decree to launch a battle of revenge against Ankenri, named it - Honor.

"Fuck the War of Glory!" Paul Zhong, commander of the Western Theater Command, once again threw a cup in his residence in the capital of the Principal of Lailin. Since he practiced with Miguel Martinez, the spokesperson of the Mage Tower capitalist and the manager of the Pyroxene vein, to trick Emperor Paul Gibson, the Grand Duke of the Ice River, and Brooklyn Arquette, the head of the Mage Tower, he knew that Roswell was no longer a safe place, and he moved all to the place with his confidants and direct descendants.

The Principality of Lailin was united with the half of the Principality of Toulucas that he had occupied before and became a de facto warlord. If the Republic of Neglu did not launch this so-called war of glory, then Paul Gibson could definitely be a good place to dominate the country and live a comfortable life with his superior forces of more than 200,000. But now that the Republic of Neglu moved, Paul Gibson discovered that he had become a bad guy who was attacked from both sides, and could not advance or retreat.

"Sir, when we decided to support Lailin's troops, we knew that the Republic of Negro would be back sooner or later, and there were corresponding plans for response. This matter was actually within our expectations. Please don't worry and calm down."

Skye Ham, commander of the Third Legion of the Western Theater Command, comforted Paul Zhong while inserting flags on the sand table. He followed Paul Zhong to Lailin's Second Legion commander Tobias Pass and Rov Helm, commander of the Fourth Legion, stood on the other side of the room, silent.

"You mean the plan where we fight symbolically first, then declare independence, and give way to the army of the Negro Republic through?" Paul Zhong reached out and wanted to throw the cup, but found that he had no cup to throw. "Although I don't like Paul Gibson's style of doing things, I don't want to be a traitor. I can't do that Charlie Ronin's old dog can throw away the glacier defense line in order to fight the civil war!"

"But sir...", the commander of the Second Legion, Tobias Pas, took a step forward, "Now our military strength is not superior. Many of the previous veterans were transferred back by the emperor to help Prince Eliot defeat Ronninger. Although we tried every means to stay, now the new and veterans are mixed together, and the combat effectiveness of the army is worrying."

"I know," Paul Zhong sighed, "But we are nominally still in Ankenryin's army. What's even worse is that our logistics have not yet been independent. Last year's war destroyed the agricultural production of Lailin and Toulucas, and now our food is still on the supply of the Amherin military department. Gibson is also a little conscience and has not cut off our food, otherwise we will not be able to stay in Lailin."

"But sir, he gives us food, and he wants us to work hard?" Rov Helm, commander of the Fourth Legion, spoke out against, "Why should we fight for the Gibsons's family? Last year, we fought so badly that he still had to punish us. This man is too heartless, so there is no need to care about the benefits he gives, right?"

"Okay, okay, I know what you mean," Paul Zhong waved his hand impatiently, "Tell me below, no matter what, the defense line of the Thorns and Hills must be kept. That is our biggest bargaining chip! Then, I will communicate with Gibson. Last year's Battle of Toulucas must not be kept in his hands!"

"Here!"

Seeing that Paul Zhong had made up his mind, the generals stopped talking and took the order to leave. Paul Zhong sat in the room for a while, changed his clothes, took a steam car without a sign, and went out.

The steam car imported from the Third Republic of Vern made a regular roar and left the Grand Duke of Lailin. It passed through the somewhat lonely street after the Chadra war and stopped at the back door of a decorated and magnificent hotel. Paul Zhong, wearing a black windbreaker, walked out of the carriage, entered the hotel with the help of the guards, and found his allies in the suite on the top floor of the hotel, the ally, the manager of the phraspex mine, and the spokesperson of the wizard tower capitalist, Miguel Martinez.

"You seem to be in a bad mood?"

Miguel Martinez sat at the small table next to the balcony, holding a small porcelain plate in his hand, "I have this year's trout and arbor fish roe, do you want to come a little?"

"No need", Paul Zhong waved his hand impatiently, opened the wine cabinet in a familiar way, found a bottle of champagne with vintage, opened it with a bottle opener hanging next to the wine cabinet, took a Loren Robbs-style gilded carved square cup, poured it half full, and drank it in one bite. Martinez watched him finish this set of movements before laughing gently.

"Do you know that you drank half of my steam car just now?"

"I care about you so much!" Paul Zhong cursed and sat in front of Martinez, "Where is the fish roe?"

"Here."

Martinez pushed a small plate on the small table to Paul Zhong. The dark fish roe, which reflected the pyroxene light, was placed on a carefully roasted slice of bread, with a little lemon juice sprinkled on the top, which looked extremely attractive. Paul Zhong stopped at the fish roe for a second, reached out to pick it up, put it in his mouth, chewed it carefully, and showed a satisfied look.

"What, I'm relieved?"

Paul Zhong shook his head, closed his eyes and felt the feeling of the plump fish roe bursting in his mouth, and it took him a long time to breathe.

"It's not easy to deal with. Nigru wants to fight, but his men are all cowards, so they dare not fight. If they don't fight, how can we have our own position?"

"Yes, peace has always been fought. If you want to be independent, you have to fight a war with Negru or Ankenriin."

"Don't say it's so ugly. I'm still Ankenryin's general after all. I don't like Paul Gibson, it doesn't mean I don't like Ankenryin."

"What you said makes sense, after all, we are all sons of meteorites." Martinez took a small glass jar next to his hand and placed it in ice, scooped out a small spoonful of fish roe from it, smeared it on the slices of bread placed on the pyroxene oven, sprinkled a little lemon, and handed it to Paul Zhong, "But son of meteorites must survive."

"I know," Paul Zhong took the fish roe but didn't eat it. "What I'm having trouble with now is how much to fight and how much to fight. Now the civil strife in Nigru seems to have been quelled, but the internal conflicts have not been resolved. Piru Manino is the president who was forced to rise up by the Workers' Party. He is essentially a coordinator who balances the conflicts between the two sides. The war he launched is the only war that can ease the social contradictions in the Republic of Nigru. Therefore, he will definitely fight with all his strength. We are originally going to be behind in equipment, and when the civil war broke out, there was little advantage in military strength. Most of the soldiers who fought against the Battle of Toulucas in the past year were transferred to Elliot. Even if I want to fight and defend, my things in my hands are very tight."

"You understand," Miguel Martinez stood up, took the bottle of champagne that Paul Zhong had just opened, and poured himself a glass of it. "But you also said that this war was used by the Republic of Negro to calm domestic conflicts. If we win, we naturally have nothing to say. But if we lose, or if we don't go well, do you think Negro will have so much patience to continue to promote this war?"

Paul Zhong was silent. He ate the fish roe and leaned on the back of the chair. After thinking for a while, he came to the conclusion.

"After all, you have to be able to win."

"It's not necessary to win, but it must be defended." Miguel Martinez raised his right hand and waved his finger. "The Iron Shield chest wall defense line has proved its power. The battles of Fort Winders, Munze and Oridri have proved that to break through the Iron Shield defense line, besides more advanced weapons, only soldiers can win with dangerous moves. The terrain of the Thorn Hill is unobstructed, and there is no such place as Changfeng Mountain. Your defense line has been built last winter to the present, and it is much stronger than Charlie Ronin and Wenfeng's rush. Even if there are more powerful weapons on the opposite side, it is not as good as Prince Eliot's steam gun. The Iron Shield defense line can even block the steam gun. What else do you have to worry about?"

"If you only do defense, it means a long-term defense battle, and you will have to fill in your life." Paul Zhong's expression was still entangled, "And Tulucas is so big, they really want to take a detour and can get around it. Although the Iron Shield Hills defense line extends to both sides, our garrison power is insufficient, and it is impossible to completely divide Tulucas's."

"So you still have to win, right?"

"You're so light!" Paul Zhong was impatient. He leaned over and took the can of fish roe, smeared himself, and straight to the point, "Tell me, you must have something for you this time, otherwise you won't come."

"I'm so sad that I said this. Gibson doesn't like us now. I've lost a lot of assets under the Mage Tower. If I don't come to you, I won't have a place to go?"

"He doesn't dare to offend you financial supporters now. Tell me, what good news is there?" Paul Zhong stopped going around in circles. He knew that he had no goods and would not come to check at this critical moment.

"Have you heard of Gastens Warren?" Martinez sat down again and poured Paul Zhong a full glass of wine.

"you say."

"He is a serf under your Sixth Legion. He is very smart and has defected to the Sixth Prince. His previous modified Welsh Type 2 steam rifle, as well as the Elliott rifle and the Glory rifle you recently issued, were designed by him. He has now built a piece of land in Enspan Province, built a factory and produced weapons."

"The Glory Rifle is easy to use, but it is not enough to change the situation of the battle," Paul Zhong frowned, "What exactly did this Gastens do?"

"About two weeks ago, he broke up with the Sixth Prince. The Sixth Prince sent two groups to seize his power. He killed six hundred people and threw away his armor. The weapon he used was called the Brave Type."

"A new rifle?"

"A new rifle that can change the form of war," Martinez stood up and moved a crate out of the room. Paul Zhong opened the box with him with an unbelieving look.

"This sentence is not what I said, it was Elliot himself." Martinez took out the weapon from the box, held it with both hands, and handed it to Paul Zhong. The dark Brave rifle equipped with high-pressure gas cylinders and magazines is tantamount to the most beautiful work of art in Paul Zhong's eyes.

"This gun is good," Paul Zhong tried it in his hand, and looked at the magazine, "What's special?"

"Breech loading, air pressure drive, internal boring, equipped with ten rounds of magazines, effective range of 150 meters, and can break through the enemy's armor within a range of 100 meters." Martinez took the gun from Paul Zhong, held it a little clumsyly, pulled the trigger towards the wall of the room.

"Why!"

Paul Zhong was just about to stop him, but he was frightened by the gunshot. The steam backpack of this gun was obviously not opened and had not been preheated. How could it be that bullets could be fired?

"This gun uses a high-pressure gas cylinder, not a water vapor directly drives the bullet. So it can be fired at any time. Only when the gas cylinder pressure is insufficient can you need to start the steam backpack to inflate the gas cylinder. How about it, the genius design, isn't it?"

Paul Zhong stopped talking. He took the gun, studied it carefully, and checked the gun's steam backpack to confirm the authenticity of the weapon. He put down the gun and asked Martinez a question.

"How much? I'll ask for it all!"

"Hey hey, don't be so anxious?" Martinez waved his finger habitually, "This gun was specially produced by Gastenth for Elliot. It is used to attack Ronninger. The production capacity is very limited and the price is very expensive-"

"I don't care about the price, how can I get it?" Paul Zhong obviously lost his patience. "Roninger's civil war is just a civil war, and the stalemate is also a stalemate. Now the enemy is going to attack, and this weapon should be given priority for our border defenders!"

"Supply your disobedient border warlord?" Martinez smiled. "The emperor cannot decide where the gun will go, nor can Elliott decide. Only one person can decide whether you can get it."

"Gastense? How did you join the line? What are his conditions?"

"It doesn't bother you, and his conditions are not difficult," Martinez put away the can of fish roe from the small table, carefully cover the lid, and put it in the ice again. "He hopes that you can stop the army of the Republic of Negro from outside Enspan."

Paul Zhong was silent, and Martinez didn't speak. The spring wind passed through the balcony curtains and made a gentle sound.

"This kid... has some ideas too."

Paul Zhong said a vaguely and looked at Martinez.

"Since ancient times, heroes have been young, we are all old."

Martinez shrugged and waited for Paul Zhong's answer.

"I have no problem. Please tell him about the specific price and payment. As long as the weapons are in place, I can definitely guard the thorny hills!"

When Paul Zhong said this, he finally regained the momentum of the former Iron-Blooded Commander, but Martinez beat him back to the prototype with one word.

"Or should we help you pay the money first?"

"That's nature, that's nature, aren't we a family?"

Paul Zhong smiled and poured a glass of wine for Martinez. Martinez was not polite, took the glass and drank it all in one go. If the generals' way to control the world is soldiers and weapons, then as capitalists, the way to control the world is capital.
Chapter completed!