Chapter Thirty-Eight: On Resistance

“Damn it, I hate dense jungles and treacherous mountain paths! These trees utterly obstruct my view, and these narrow mountain trails shackle the iron hooves of the mighty centaur warriors!” Major Maridor the centaur muttered irritably, complaining incessantly to his companion, Major Gist the elf.

They were part of a logistical transport corps numbering over a thousand. The Elven Empire had deployed vast numbers of troops to the Istanbul region, but the Moris Empire had destroyed all the armories in the end. While food could still be requisitioned locally, weapons and ammunition had to be painstakingly shipped in from the homeland. Thankfully, Istanbul bordered the Elven Empire, so the logistical burden was not overwhelming. However, with guerrilla bands rampant throughout Istanbul, every transport unit required nearly a thousand regular troops as escorts, which strained the Empire’s military resources. If not for the Elven Empire’s immense wealth, they would have long since retreated from Istanbul, unable to bear the pressure.

Major Gist, clad in ornate military attire, seemed accustomed to his companion’s grumbling. He smiled faintly and paid no further mind to Maridor’s gloomy complaints. Though elves had grown less attached to forests since their own Industrial Revolution, they did not share the centaurs’ innate fear of threading through woodlands and mountains. Here, centaurs could not exploit their advantage in charging; humans could easily use the terrain to outmaneuver them.

Consequently, of the transport corps, only two hundred were centaur soldiers; the rest were elves, bearing flintlock rifles on their shoulders and swords at their waists.

These elf soldiers were taller than most humans, with handsome faces and pointed ears. Dressed in crisp uniforms, they made even human honor guards seem plain by comparison. Any of these dashing youths would surely elicit screams of delight from infatuated maidens in the human world. Indeed, all these soldiers were male—though this did not mean the Elven Empire lacked female soldiers. Quite the contrary: due to elves’ much lower fertility compared to humans, women comprised a significant proportion of their military.

Perhaps because the Empress herself was female, the standards for female soldiers were even stricter. Most elite units were true female regiments. For some reason, elven women tended to be slightly better marksmen than their male counterparts, so the Imperial Royal Guard and other elite forces were made up exclusively of female elves.

The aspect most envied by humans was the Elven Empire’s extremely permissive sexual culture, likely due to their low conception rates—though this openness applied only within their own kind, as marriage between elves and humans was strictly forbidden.

To encourage births, both polygamy and polyandry were allowed! If any male elf possessed exceptional traits that improved conception rates, the Empire would reward him with multiple female partners, all to increase the elven population.

With such open policies and various incentives to promote reproduction, the Elven Empire barely maintained a population of just over ten million—far less than the sprawling human empires with tens of millions. Fortunately, elves’ long lifespans meant that, barring war or accident, their population could still grow steadily.

Yet, to support more elves, the Empire had to expand its territory, often at the expense of the humans who occupied fertile lands. This might be one reason for the elves’ deep-seated animosity toward humans.

Humans, numerous, greedy, and ever-expanding, constantly reminded the Elven Empire that extinction loomed dangerously close. Thus, the consensus among elves was clear: humans must be eliminated.

Centaurs were wholly subordinate to the elves—though as allies, not mere vassals. Within the military hierarchy, elves outranked centaurs of the same grade by half a rank, a symbolic mark of racial status. The lowest caste in the Elven Empire was undoubtedly humans. Only those who had rendered great service—such as human collaborators—could gain citizenship; all others were relegated to slavery.

Major Gist’s thousand-strong escort guarded vast stores of weapons and ammunition. The transport convoy was flanked fore and aft by disciplined ranks of elven riflemen. Among elves, skilled in swordplay, riflemen were the dominant force; only during major battles would a few spear phalanxes appear to break enemy lines. As for defending against enemy cavalry charges, with their horse-and-man fused centaur knights, no nation dared challenge the elves on horseback.

In terms of equipment and troop types, the Elven Empire’s army most closely resembled Sun Li’s Song Corps—though only in armament. The elves knew nothing of linear formations, nor had they ever seen a bayonet; for them, swords sufficed in close combat.

With swords at their waists, flintlocks slung over their shoulders, marching packs on their backs, and powder and bullet pouches at their sides, the elven soldiers strode in neat rectangular formations along the forest path, their posture straight and steps measured. Centaur soldiers patrolled around the convoy, galloping vigilantly back and forth, clad in simple leather armor, wielding spears and sabers, heads held high as they scanned the surroundings.

These centaur cavalry looked imposing, but paled in comparison to the elves in terms of sheer beauty. Yes, beauty: though elven formations appeared serious and disciplined, anyone who saw them could not help but think, “These elves are truly beautiful.” Elven soldiers never took offense at such compliments; to these art-loving folk, words like beautiful, handsome, and elegant carried far more allure than martial terms like mighty.

Of course, the task of driving carts and horses fell not to the noble elves, but to a ragged group of human slaves. Their muscular upper bodies bare, they labored under the watchful eye of centaur patrols, urging wagons laden with bullets and weapons onward. When encountering a pit or obstacle, they had to push hard to free the carts; any delay could cost them their lives, as centaurs were merciless—executions to instill fear were routine.

Yet these logistical slaves had long grown accustomed to such toil; though harsh and exhausting, at least they had enough to eat. Executions during transport were rare; among the slaves, working for the army was a coveted job, far preferable to the deadly mines.

As Maridor and Gist bantered, the entire convoy entered a shaded lane, dense forest flanking both sides. Except for the central path, visibility extended only a dozen paces in either direction. The elves and centaurs slowed their march, heightening their vigilance.

At that moment, Major Gist noticed something unusual in the woods!