In the Name of Empress

They know too much.

Thinking of this, the deputy's heart trembled slightly. He knew more, how would Mr. Labert treat him afterward?

Perhaps seeing through the deputy's fear, Labert smiled and said: "David, don't worry, I will arrange for you to go to the New Continent. You can enjoy life there, but you can't come back."

The deputy breathed a sigh of relief and quickly expressed his gratitude to Labert.

Even though the living conditions in the New Continent are poor, as long as there is money, anywhere can be heaven.

This was his last time risking his life for Mr. Labert.

Finish this job, and he could retire!

He disappeared into the night like a swift cat.

Watching David leave, Labert's face gradually darkened. He snapped his fingers and called over the butler who had loyally served the family for two generations, whispering a few words.

David, the new world I spoke of is the Pure Joy Pure Land, and you will definitely reach it.

I'm sorry, you know too much.

Promises? Promises are only valid when needed. Now Mr. Labert doesn't need them.

...

Shortly after three in the morning, Jes, still at the lookout tower, observed the surroundings again through his telescope.

Unfortunately, the surroundings were too dark. Tonight was moonless and windy, making it impossible to see clearly.

He vaguely felt something was wrong but couldn't pinpoint what.

He decided to personally inspect the area near the warehouse zone.

Switching to night gear, he crouched low and circled around a small grove.

He heard no footsteps but still stopped cautiously.

Though he couldn't see, he could smell alcohol and kerosene coming from the other end of the grove.

This is...

This band of desperados planned to set a fire!

Jes was stunned. He had considered that these people might cause trouble, but he didn't expect them to be this reckless.

These warehouses had been built over many years, equipped with various sentries and solid walls, making it difficult to seize them by conventional means.

But a fire attack was different.

These warehouses, after all, were a mix of brick and wood structures, containing many grains inside, making them highly flammable.

Once the fire started, fueled by tonight's strong winds, the entire warehouse zone would go up in flames.

Jes instinctively wanted to run back to the camp but suddenly halted.

Wait, could this be a part of the Governor's plan?

If this were bait, would acting prematurely ruin the Governor's overall scheme?

Jes's heart pounded wildly; he hesitated.

No matter if the Governor had set a trap, he could first muster the troops and arrest the arsonists as soon as the fire broke out.

The cost would be severe losses to the warehouse guard units, with 60,000 tons of fine grain going up in flames.

He could achieve great merit by capturing the arsonists timely.

What about the warehouse guard units? What about the more than 100,000 tons of grain still in the warehouses? What about the refugees relying on this grain for survival?

Jes's soul was being tortured.

It took him only a second to make a decision.

Arrest them!

If the Governor had set a trap waiting for these people, the crime of attempted arson was enough. Although a burning warehouse would more easily incite public outrage and make the achievement more direct, the loss was too costly.

Jes craved progress, but he couldn't bear to watch his comrades burn to death, using their bodies as stepping stones for advancement.

Maybe one day he would be self-serving, maybe one day he would become numb, maybe one day he would be ruthless.

But not today!

Now he must go arrest these madmen who had lost all sense.

Jes quickly returned to the barracks, blowing the whistle to rally the troops.

The cavalry, resting in leather armor, quickly responded.

Jes stood murderously in front of them, loudly announcing, "Someone is attempting to set the grain warehouses on fire, this is treason, follow me, arrest them!"

The cavalry's eyes gleamed.

Having not rested well for many days, they were long bottled up with fury, now finally having a chance to vent.

Jes mounted his horse, holding a flintlock firearm in his left hand and a lance over two meters long in his right, charging out first.

The hoofbeats sounded like muffled thunder breaking the night's silence, roaring with the wind.

Tonight, someone was going to meet misfortune.