Chapter 1281 - 859: Forced to Retreat

Chapter 1281: Chapter 859: Forced to Retreat

The conflict site at the center of the town.

The originally angry Rabbit Race, with the Night Watcher as their backing and the presence of two fellow Warriors, suddenly found an outlet for their previously suppressed indignation.

A young Rabbit Warrior with scratches on his face and red eyes suddenly pushed away his protective companion, rushed to the front, and yelled hoarsely at Karen.

"Look! Look at what you’ve done! You said you were recruiting strong men for war! But when my uncle was conscripted, that’s what you said too! And what happened?

"We didn’t receive any news of him dying in battle, only a message that he was torn apart as bait! They said he went on reconnaissance, but they never even found his body!

"Of the hundreds of people conscripted from the town over the years, how many have returned alive? How many have sent us a single word? None! Not a single one!"

This statement instantly ignited the anger of the surrounding onlookers.

Joking aside, those young soldiers conscripted over the years, almost everyone here was connected to them, whether as someone’s son, someone’s father, or someone’s friend.

"Shut up! You bastard!"

Karen’s adjutant glared fiercely, his hand resting on the Curved Saber at his waist.

"Don’t be afraid, child, speak boldly!"

Old Mayor Wendell suddenly shouted, whiskers and beard bristling, as if the long-dormant warrior spirit within him had been reignited.

The anger had accumulated enough, there was no need to suppress it any longer.

He forcefully pushed away his clansmen trying to hold him back, walked up next to the red-eyed youth, and glared intensely at Captain Karen, speaking word by word.

"Leader sir, His Majesty the Emperor, the founder of the Empire, established military regulations, that each tribe must provide auxiliary troops according to ’one in twenty of adult males’.

"It’s ’one in twenty’! Not whenever you please!"

"Our Turnip Root Clan, once totaling no more than thirty thousand men, women, and children, with fewer than a few thousand young adults of suitable age, just last year and the year before over a hundred have been conscripted, already exceeding His Majesty’s rules."

And such conscription has continued for several years, their small town used to be more prosperous.

Even if the population of the same tribe is large, their small town developed nicely, but can’t withstand such conscriptions.

The problem is these conscripted soldiers can’t come back, not a single one has returned, that’s what’s truly despairing and terrifying.

If these soldiers had some development, or some had even returned, even if disabled?

However, none have, not even disabled ones.

"The town’s Hunters and guard forces have long been depleted. Today you speak of another forty people?! And you want to take seedlings from the Sentinel’s post!

"This is already the second time this year, we can’t bear such conscriptions any longer.

"I, Wendell, lay down my old face to ask you this: is it truly the White Stone Battlefront that needs so many Rabbit Sentinels? Or have the Empire’s tribes completely forgotten His Majesty’s rules, using the lives of our Rabbit Warriors to fill your records of achievement?!"

He grew more and more agitated, pounding his chest.

"You need people? Fine! Take these old bones of mine! And those few young bucks, take them!

"Uproot the last seeds that can protect and guard against Magical Beasts in our town! Just give us a definite word that if we deliver the people according to the numbers this time, we will not be excessively conscripted again?!"

Old Mayor Wendell’s questions, filled with both grief and accurate data, struck loudly in the silent square.

Not only was Karen speechless, but even the Wolf Knights behind him had varied expressions, some wavering.

They were not actually afraid.

But the emotions bursting forth from the blood-red eyes of those surrounding Rabbits made them feel pressured.

This time, these Rabbits seemed truly desperate.

Gertai still stood silent as a mountain in front of the Rabbit Race people.

He didn’t even look at Captain Karen, his gaze calmly scanning the rough Stone Wall of the meeting hall and the bluestone ground before the door.

But all members of the Night Watcher squad, including the two Rabbit Warriors, stood like him, an immovable gray bulwark.

Though they hadn’t drawn their swords, their stance, their eyes, the aura of battlefield killing that seemed to linger around them, combined with the blood-cried accusations of Old Mayor Wendell, was like an invisible weight pressing on Karen and all the Wolf Knights.

Karen’s face turned from red to blue, then to black.

He looked at the stubborn group of Rabbits and then at the six Night Watchers, seemingly blended into the Shadow, unmoving, especially Gertai, with his bottomless steel-gray eyes.

He could feel the restiveness and retreat of his war wolf, and could also feel the apprehension of his subordinates hidden beneath their armor.

He had no doubt that if he ordered to forcibly seize people at this moment, this seemingly silent group of Night Watchers would instantly transform into a deadly blade storm.

This was an intuition honed through battles on the battlefield, and he also knew of the Night Watchers’ reputation.

Forget about a squad of Night Watchers being here, even one Night Watcher, if driven to disregard their safety, could wipe them clean.

At most, they could only escape thanks to the advantage of their mounts.

The existence of the Night Watchers had been for over a decade, perhaps at the beginning or in the earlier years there were people who thought of it as mythology or exaggeration.

But in recent years, the Night Watchers’ record had grown more and more impressive, more and more exaggerated, leaving no one daring to question their capability.

There was only one Evaluation everyone agreed on: war machines born for battle.