Extreme Cold Era: Shelter Don't Keep Waste-Chapter 925 - 153: Iron and Blood
There's no doubt that the Empire's bloody tactics have intensified the conflict.
The repression with iron and fire has not extinguished the seeds of rebellion; instead, it's like pouring water into boiling oil, igniting even fiercer anger in the vast desert heartland.
For the chiefs of the Desert Kingdom attempting to resist the Empire, brutal and bloody slaughtering, even the annihilation of an entire tribe, is not enough to instill fear or cause them to retreat.
When the hooves of the Empire's cavalry trample their temples worshiped for generations, when Valken's army nails their kin to the dunes with spears, these warriors, whose blood carries the nomadic spirit, have long transformed fear into deeply ingrained hatred.
They wipe the blood-stained scimitars with coarse sand, swearing under the starlit sky—either the Empire's flag turns into shreds in the sandstorm, or the spirits of the entire tribe will nourish this desert.
For Perfikot, this was merely anticipated.
From a certain standpoint, she was purposely forcing Valken's troops to provoke these chiefs and their tribes into rebellion.
The reason is simple: she despises the constant suppression of rebellions and cleaning up the mess; she wants a once-and-for-all resolution.
Just like a surgeon dealing with a festering wound, rather than repeatedly applying medication, it's better to cut away the rotting flesh directly.
Those advocating appeasement will never understand: in this desert, where the law of the jungle prevails, compassion is regarded as synonymous with weakness.
To achieve this, all the rebels must be drawn out, only then can they be captured in one sweeping move.
She purposely made Valken adopt aggressive tactics, provoking these desert tribes through bloody massacres so that they would hate the Empire and resist with all their might.
After all, the Empire holds the advantage in military strength and does not fear these desert tribes, not even in a protracted war.
But if these tribes continue to outwardly maintain submission while secretly acting like a poisoned dagger, endlessly cutting into the Empire's flesh, then no matter how strong the Empire is, it will grow tired. Every suppressed rebellion breeds new hatred, new avengers. The desert tribes are like wild grass, burning yet inexhaustible unless uprooted entirely.
Only by luring out all the venomous snakes can the incessant troubles on this land be resolved. Perfikot understands deeply that mercy holds no meaning here—the law of the desert is iron and blood. The Empire has given them the chance to submit, yet they chose betrayal. In that case, let them completely vanish in the flames.
Therefore, she aims to use a war of sufficient scale to completely annihilate these rebellious tribes against the Empire. Erase their names from the map, making sure their descendants never dare to speak of revenge. The Empire does not need to suppress rebel after rebel; the Empire needs eternal submission.
Upon thinking this, Perfikot looked at Redcliff, who seemed to hold different opinions, and asked:
"Governor Redcliff, how are the other desert tribes? Ten small Energy Towers, I suppose, should be sufficient to exchange for an army?"
Her tone was calm, as though discussing a regular trade, not an imminent bloodbath.
Redcliff slightly lowered his head, responding, "Yes, seventeen tribes have answered our call, declaring they will send their armies to assist us in the fight."
He paused, knit his brows, and ultimately couldn't help but ask, "Regent, isn't slaughtering innocent civilians too excessive? War shouldn't…"
"Governor, how do you define innocence?" Perfikot interrupted Redcliff before he finished. Her voice remained calm but carried an undeniable sharpness.
Redcliff was startled, clearly not expecting such a retort.
Perfikot slowly stood, walked towards the window, gazed at the vast desert in the distance, and continued, "Those 'innocent' women will sew battle robes for warriors at night; those 'innocent' children will take up their fathers' scimitars when they grow up; those 'innocent' elders will speak vigilantly by the campfire about the Empire's cruelty, inspiring a new generation of avengers."
She turned around, her ice-blue eyes staring straight at Redcliff: "On this land, there are no innocents. They must either submit or face death—that is the choice the Empire offers them, and they have already made their choice."
Redcliff was silent for a moment, finally lowering his voice, "I'm just concerned that such methods… will tarnish the Empire with a name of cruelty."
Perfikot chuckled coldly, "Governor, the world has entered an end time. If the Empire cannot resolve this winter, all humanity will face extinction.
At that time, the Empire's reputation will be meaningless!
If we can't deal with the current problem, then the Empire has no future!
The Empire has given those desert tribes a choice, Her Majesty the Empress has also given them a chance, even I have offered them a chance, yet they still made the choice we did not want to see."
She walked back to the table, her fingers lightly tapping on the map marked with "rebellious areas," and casually said, "Since they have chosen war, let them experience what real war is."
Redcliff took a deep breath, finally nodding, "… As you wish, Regent."
