In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities-Chapter 215 - Dissatisfaction With The Emperor

Bucephalus happily crunched on the apples Michael handed him, his content expression bringing a faint smile to his master's face. Michael continued grooming the horse, hoping his touch provided comfort. Since Marcus's arrival, Bucephalus had seemed noticeably subdued, though he had begun regaining his usual vigor.

Even so, seeing Bucephalus stomp his hooves in eagerness to carry Michael into battle tugged at his heart. The horse, now munching on his third apple, affectionately nuzzled Michael, drawing a smile from his lips.

After feeding Bucephalus, Michael wiped his saliva-slicked hands on his clothes and lay on the grass. Nearby, Miaomiao, his ever-watchful feline companion, settled down beside him. Miaomiao, however, was sulking, clearly displeased with the attention Michael lavished on Bucephalus. Occasionally, the cat would bare its teeth at the horse, but Bucephalus, long accustomed to such antics, merely snorted dismissively.

[Tch, that horse is getting cocky these days,] Miaomiao muttered, her tail flicking irritably.

Unable to tolerate the horse's condescending look, Miaomiao unsheathed her claws in warning. Michael chuckled at their antics, but as expected, the peaceful afternoon didn't last long.

In the distance, a rider appeared, galloping toward them. At first a mere speck, the figure soon grew closer, their expression filled with urgency. A messenger.

"Lord Michael! Urgent news! Urgent news!"

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The messenger dismounted, panting heavily as he presented a sealed letter. Michael sighed as he rose from the grass. Even a short respite was a luxury he couldn't afford. Still, he brushed aside his fleeting frustration. Being sought out for his abilities was far better than being overlooked.

The messenger handed Michael a letter bearing bold, powerful handwriting:

"To Supreme Commander of Orlando Fortress, Michael von Crassus—Personal."

The sender was none other than Duke Capone, who had returned to the royal palace.

"Is this about progress on what we discussed?" Michael wondered as he calmly broke the seal and began reading. His composed expression soon shifted to one of astonishment, then incredulity.

"Well, this is... impressive, in its own way."

The letter described how the retreating Pamir Empire forces, who had been driven from Elonia, were now advancing on the Pasha Kingdom. Thanks to capturing Crown Prince Oswald and the five tribal leaders, the Imperial Army had withdrawn from all fronts in Lania and Elonia.

Michael had expected them to camp in the plains or retreat further, but raiding the Pasha Kingdom? Then again, considering their original motive for war—securing food supplies—it wasn't entirely surprising. Elonia likely turned a blind eye, unwilling to expend resources stopping them.

Michael chuckled at the irony. Pasha's ministers, who had gone to great lengths to avoid sending reinforcements, were now facing the consequences of their inaction. Though he pitied the Pasha citizens, Michael couldn't help but think, "This is what happens when you ignore the alliance."

"This is why people should live righteously," Michael muttered wryly.

The messenger, still lingering nearby, glanced at Michael with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Was the war over? Or had it begun anew? His face betrayed the conflicting emotions of hope and fear.

Michael pondered briefly. He realized this news could boost his soldiers' morale. Many troops harbored resentment toward Pasha's delayed participation in the alliance, and this revelation might rekindle their unity.

With a hint of amusement, Michael spoke. "The Pamir Empire forces have turned their sights on Pasha. They're invading as we speak."

The messenger's reaction was immediate—his eyes widened in surprise before his face broke into a triumphant grin. "After watching others suffer like it was someone else's problem, they're finally facing the fire themselves. Serves them right!"

Realizing his bluntness, the messenger quickly glanced at Michael for approval. Instead of reprimanding him, Michael simply nodded, granting silent permission to spread the news. Relieved and elated, the messenger hurried off to deliver the update.

The soldiers, already gathered in curiosity, erupted into cheers when the news reached them. Their voices echoed across the camp in a raucous celebration. Michael watched the scene unfold, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

Mocking laughter about the Pasha Kingdom's ineffectiveness echoed throughout the camp. For soldiers, who had been living in constant anxiety, unsure when the war might resume, the kingdom's misfortune was a welcome piece of good news.

It was a cruel reality, but humans are inherently self-centered. Besides, Pasha's underhanded behavior during the alliance had played a significant role in shaping such reactions.

As Michael observed his soldiers reveling in the news, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. Meanwhile, Miaomiao, who had been sprawled lazily on the grass, stretched with a wide yawn and stood up.

[Ah, foolish Pasha. They couldn't see beyond their own noses, chasing short-term gains, and now they've paid the price. Michael, make sure you don't turn out like that.]

Michael chuckled, reaching out to pat Miaomiao on the head.

"Don't worry. That won't happen. And if it does, you'll stop me, won't you?"

His playful response earned a dismissive snort from the feline, though her upright tail betrayed her good mood.

[But if Pasha gets invaded, doesn't that mean we'll have to march to war again?]

Miaomiao's voice carried a tinge of concern. Though fierce in battle, she disliked the slaughter of war. To her, it often felt more like one-sided massacres than true conflicts.

Michael shook his head firmly. "There's no need for that. They betrayed the Three Kingdoms Alliance first, so there's no point in shedding unnecessary blood. Besides, Pasha has a famous commander—a seasoned veteran. Their defenses will hold."

Miaomiao, now licking her paw, seemed lost in thought.

[It's not that simple. The Empire still has many elite forces. Reaching the Emperor won't be easy.]

Her words carried an undercurrent of worry. Michael, smiling gently, stroked her soft fur. Miaomiao closed her eyes and purred contentedly, his touch both soothing and tender.

"You're right. But even within the Empire, there's considerable dissent against the Emperor. Anyone can see he's unfit to rule. If we rally behind Crown Prince Oswald, the resistance shouldn't be too overwhelming."

Miaomiao let out a long sigh, her paw resting against her chest. Her gaze reflected profound disillusionment with the complexities of human politics and warfare.

[Humans are so complicated. They don't even enjoy their short lives but waste them scheming and fighting, only to die early…]

Michael gave her a sharp look, sensing her teasing undertone. "Is she bragging about her longer lifespan?" he thought, annoyed.