New Basilicata.

The majestic mountain city walls stand atop the cliffs.

Endless convoys of supplies slowly travel along the mountain paths carved out over the years by the Texans.

The permanent population of New Basilicata is not large, yet the stockpiled supplies are abundant. As war approaches, wolf race squads stationed all around tirelessly transport supplies back to the "mother nest" like diligent worker bees.

The opponent is after all the Sun Never Sets Empire. To engage the world’s overlord in open combat on the plains or within range of the terrifying British naval cannons makes even the powerful France, Germany, and Russia feel a chill.

Furin inhaled deeply as a cold mountain breeze blew. The complex array patterns carved on the walls reduced her involvement significantly.

This is both good and bad.

Even with her elite powers, her prowess had surged, but it would be impossible for one person to inscribe array patterns over such a massive city. Previously, even at Wolf Castle, she felt time was tight.

The downside is that if she wants to exert herself, she can’t make grand strokes as she did on a blank canvas, but must carefully weave around existing array patterns to maximize the powers of her Blood Domain without disrupting their original functions.

Her mood is often not good when doing such meticulous work.

Seemingly ordinary in appearance and wearing a cowboy hat, the wolf race caster boasted, "Miss Furin, we’re teaming up again this time. How do you find the array patterns we’ve been inscribing over the years?"

"It’s just a mess created by grinding through time and piling materials. Considering that your wolf race is full of muscle-headed brutes, it’s somewhat commendable."

Furin, disinterested, continued to inscribe the array patterns, not inclined to converse with this rare caster among the wolf race.

Humans, in her eyes, were just bags of blood, the handsome ones were appealing bags of blood, while the wolf race... not even as good as bags of blood.

Of course, excluding the lord’s attendants.

The wolf race caster, finding no interest, sheepishly followed behind, "Miss Furin, the array patterns here are learned from an Ancient Spellbook, dating back several hundred years, should be fairly decent?"

Furin retorted, "’Several’ hundred years? Older than me?"

The wolf race caster was speechless, but suddenly, as if grabbing at a lifeline, he shouted, "Look, our people are back!"

Looking out, a group of Texas cowboys pushed heavy carts along the rugged mountain road towards "New Basilicata City."

"The goods aren’t sent off?" "I said those submissive black cattle wouldn’t have the guts to rise up and resist."

Mazone scoffed, "That Mr. Losa is an outsider after all. While we appreciate his help back then, now he doesn’t even show his face and expects us to follow his directions; it’s way too unreliable."

"Who said he didn’t show up?"

The Centurion slapped the cart and pried open the sealed weapon case to reveal brand-new breech-loading rifles: "Look at that, British Martini-Henry Rifle, something even the Colonial Legion doesn’t qualify to equip, with standard White Crystal Bombs, a bullet fired can explode into a wide area."

Another Corner boasted by prying open another box: "White Crystal Grenades, can be mounted on gun muzzles for firing, with these arms unless the Brits use naval cannons to blast us sky-high, they’ll meet death no matter how many come."

Mazone was astonished, "Did you rob the Brits’ arms depot? Didn’t they station guards?"

The Centurion took pride and prestige in answering, "Of course they did, the arms depot is right next to the Saint George’s Knight Order camp. As we approached a bit, a Holy Radiance Greatsword was ready to strike, but thanks to Mr. Losa’s help, we managed."

A nearby Corner played a good supporting role, "By the way, the Brits aren’t likely to have the leisure to trouble us, in their colonies, blacks outnumber whites in Louisiana; just today I saw the blacks hating those slave masters so much, they’d love to eat their flesh. This is truly a brilliant move."

Someone else gloatingly added, "Once the Brits suppress the black uprising, Louisiana would be all barren. The Brit’s territories are sparsely populated unless they introduce large numbers of black slaves again, recovery is unimaginable for years."

Mazone watched the jubilant Texas cowboys as they transported lines of munitions to the mountain city and couldn’t help but laugh, "Ah, Mr. Losa is quite a capable man, truly impressive!"

Texas has its own military industry but is still in the workshop stage; naturally, the quality pales compared to Great Britain’s equipment. Just that arms depot could arm tens of thousands of troops.

Additionally, when constructing New Basilicata, the risk of foreign invasion was prioritized. Over time, it was built into a mountain fortress, making it difficult to conquer.

...

The scale of the black rebel army is expanding at an unimaginable speed.

They chose the simplest and most effective method to expand their ranks — coercion.

Massacres followed in succession, the long-repressed blacks seemingly out for vengeance regarding everything they’ve suffered.

Even Losa, who orchestrated all this by hand, felt a chill.

But he could only cryptically remark, "pangs of the era," unable to intervene.

This outcome was entirely within his expectations.

Only this "world" which he "created with his own hands" always felt unreal to him; the blood-soaked words on paper were remarkably cruel in reality.

The consequences of a mere emancipation proclamation for the slaves were indeed more profound than these.

What Losa didn’t know was that Great Britain’s goal in the war was for Magic Stones and the White Crystal Vein.

Both are crucial industrial resources, while the North American Colonies have nearly no industry.

The planters fundamentally have no need for an additional Texas in the already vast North American Autonomous Territory, and only the lower layers show some interest in this simply cultivated land of Texas.

But for now, the minor benefits have cost them the massive losses from the black uprising, and the conflict of interests between both sides will become increasingly severe.

New York.

Princess Louise, who just attended the welcoming banquet, received her first dreadful news as the future Grand Duchess of New England, now the highest leader of the British North American Colonies.

Preparing to sleep to recover from travel fatigue, Her Highness the Princess angrily rebuked the colonial officials.

"No matter what you do, I forbid the black cattle’s revolt to spread beyond Louisiana!"

With Her Highness the Princess commanding, the entire North American Colonies activated entirely, along with the armed forces traveling with the Princess; airships rose into the sky, armored infantry moved with heavy steps, connecting to the booming Land Cruisers entering the hold.

The Ironclad Fleet, spewing thick black smoke, slowly sailed out of the port. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

War Machines from the world’s overlord are set to exhibit their formidable and destructive might even before the true war arrives.