The Nebula's Civilization

Chapter 203: Ember

Seeing the armed soldiers, Sarcho thought.

‘Oh, they called in the military to intimidate them.’

Sarcho was aware of Garil’s plan. Even if the guards were to interrupt them, they intended to raise their voices and make their stand. Deep down, Sarcho supported this, but with the soldiers now blocking the path to the square, even that seemed difficult to do.

‘It’s unfortunate, but there’s nothing I can do.’

If Garil was caught like this, he would face humiliation. He would face interrogation from the guards, and if unlucky, he could even be beaten. But eventually, since Sarcho had all the inside information, it would be revealed how powerless and weak these moderate revolutionaries truly were.

‘Perhaps this will serve as an opportunity for the mayor or the factory owners to understand the current state of labor. This might be a way too.’

There was a chance public opinion could change. Sarcho knew several journalists who reported on the temple, so Sarcho could also subtly hint to them about the collective silence on this matter.

‘Would things maybe then change a bit?’

Of course, all of these were nothing but Sarcho’s fantasies, fleeting and short-lived.

The front line of soldiers knelt, taking aim, while the second line stood ready to shoot. The protesters then began to murmur amongst themselves.

Sarcho believed that the soldiers wouldn’t open fire without trying to use words first to stop the protesters, and waited for a moment..𝒎

Then, the officer who seemed to be in command quickly raised and then lowered their sword.

“Fire!”

Transitioning from the era of black gunpowder to the newly invented smokeless powder was indeed revolutionary. The progression from muzzle-loading firearms to breech-loading, and subsequently the introduction of cartridge cases, led to a groundbreaking improvement in firing rates, and this enhancement became even better upon encountering smokeless gunpowder.

Black gunpowder inevitably produced smoke, which indicated the immense amount of impurities generated when the gunpowder ignited. These impurities not only caused smoke but also left residue inside the gun barrel, affecting both the firing rate and the firearm’s durability.

Smokeless gunpowder produced a cleaner, purer explosion, and this meant that with the same amount, smokeless gunpowder provided a much stronger firepower than black gunpowder. As a replacement for black gunpowder, smokeless gunpowder applied less pressure to the gun barrel, and the firearms were able to shoot faster and shoot more bullets. This made killing people more efficient.

Bullets fired from automatic rifles struck the protesters directly. The first round of twenty magazines emptying alone resulted in tens of protesters falling, unable to get up again. After the deafening gunfire, screams filled the streets.

The protesters began to run away, but they were still within the range of the automatic rifles. This time, the shots targeted their backs. As they screamed and ran, one of them shoved Sarcho, who stood there in shock. Sarcho then touched the priest’s robe and realized it was wet. It was soaked in blood. Sarcho tried to see the person who had pushed them when someone from an alleyway grabbed Sarcho’s arm.

“Hey you, Sarcho, what are you doing here?”

It was the high priest, Khan. Khan was a short Renard, so Sarcho had to look down at Khan.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, no. It’s not my blood. It’s someone else’s.”

“You shouldn’t be in the middle of the protest, it’s dangerous. I rushed here when I heard there was someone in a priest’s robes among the protesters. The soldiers wouldn’t have shot at a priest, but if you were caught in that stampede, it could’ve been bad.”

Sarcho, looking distressed, replied, “High Priest, what’s going on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The soldiers, they’re shooting at people.”

Sarcho looked out to the street. Although the protesters had run away, there were many bodies lying on the road. Some were still alive, bleeding. As Sarcho tried to approach them, Khan didn’t let go of Sarcho’s hand.𝘦𝑎.𝒸ℴ

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Pardon?”

“They are all revolutionaries. The same revolutionaries you informed us about.”

Sarcho hesitated and then replied, “But they’re moderate revolutionaries, right? Didn’t I explain everything?”

“Oh, young one, snap out of it. From the perspective of the Union Kingdom, whether they’re moderate or radical doesn’t matter. If they’re revolutionaries, they’re revolutionaries. What’s the point of distinguishing between them?”

“No, they’re just ordinary people. Please let me go, there are injured people over there.”

As Sarcho tried to leave the alley, Khan yanked Sarcho back by the hand. Soldiers began to move forward, distinguishing the living from the dead and detaining the survivors.

Khan said, “If you stay here, there will be an uncomfortable misunderstanding. Come with me.”

“But…”

“The soldiers will handle them.”

Sarcho hesitated and eventually followed Khan. Sarcho still trusted Khan, thinking this could all have been a terrible mistake.

As they walked through the alley, Khan said, “So you think all revolutionaries are just ordinary people?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Maybe they are.”

“What do you mean?”

“But how do you think things will turn out in the end?”

“Pardon?”

“People are creatures who don’t know satisfaction. Once they achieve one thing, they’ll aim for another.”

“…”

“Actually, because they’ve achieved something once, they’ll believe they can achieve even more. That’s greed for you. That’s the greed of those ordinary people.”

Once Khan was sure they were alone and unobserved in the narrow alley, Khan stopped and said to Sarcho, “Do you think this hasn’t happened in other cities?”

“…Pardon?”

“People differentiate between hardliner revolutionaries and moderate ones. Yes, there might be some extremists out there, Sarcho. Surely there are those misguided by the evil Empire and the Devil. But if the stories shared by the other high priests are true, most of the revolutionaries are moderates—ordinary people, just as you say.”

“Ordinary people…who have nothing to do with the Empire or the Devil?”

“Yes. People who work all day and find joy in a cheap bottle of strong alcohol at night. Ordinary people who worry about feeding their children.”

When Sarcho couldn’t say anything, Khan added, “Well, no, not ordinary, perhaps. They’re Tailless.”

“They’re all the same.”

“Don’t be stupid. How can everyone be the same? Are you, a Bugbear, the same as a hairless Human?”

“But…”

Khan waved their hand. “Sarcho, I’m not here to argue with you. I’m just stating facts. The atmosphere in the Union Kingdom is unusual. Ideas of equality and revolution are all too dangerous.”

“I’m aware.”

“No, you don’t fully understand. Ordinary people? Perhaps. But this moderate revolution, those moderates, might just be what the Empire and the Devil desire. Yes, I get where you’re coming from. For now, they seem reasonable. Extending meal breaks, compensation for injuries, a slight pay raise. It all looks reasonable. But once those demands are granted, what then?”

Khan pointed at Sarcho.

“Then they’ll try to take what we have. If someone does less work and gets paid more, someone else has to work more and get paid less. For now, it’ll be the factory owners who suffer, but looking at the bigger picture, the whole world is interconnected. If the revolution succeeds, we’ll eventually suffer as well. Are you ready to sacrifice it all?”

Sarcho didn’t reply.

“So whether they’re moderates or not, we need to take out the roots of all revolutionaries. More precisely, not just the revolutionaries, but even those with the potential to become one. With that taken into consideration, our treatment of them isn’t severe at all.”

As Sarcho remained silent, Khan slowly nodded, thinking Sarcho had accepted everything.

Khan gently patted Sarcho’s arm.

“You didn’t see the big picture because you are young. Yes, compassion is a virtue of a priest. But don’t just blindly show it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“…I understand.”

“Then go home and rest for today. No, take a good rest during the unification festival… Oh, and I’ve heard that Fang wishes to reward you for successfully carrying out the operation, so you can look forward to that.”

“Alright.”

Sarcho then turned around and began to walk away. However, Khan couldn’t guess the thoughts in Sarcho’s mind. Khan didn’t realize that the resignation they perceived in Sarcho was actually a spark igniting a flame in Sarcho’s heart. Khan was unaware that when Sarcho said they understood, it wasn’t an acceptance of Khan’s perspective, but rather a new understanding of the world itself.

By the time Sarcho returned to the revolutionary hideout, Fang agents had already swept through the place. However, there were signs that those who had participated in the protests had possibly gathered there again. There were bloodstains.

The front-page news the next day was about the mayor’s speech during the unification festival. The incident with the revolutionaries was only covered on the fourth page, and even that was downplayed, suggesting that a minor group planning a secret rebellion had been captured on the streets. There was also no mention of the number of deaths. But Sarcho wasn’t disappointed.

Having gone deep undercover with the revolutionaries, Sarcho had made acquaintances with the active leaders. However, Sarcho couldn’t meet most of them anymore. Some had fled Shubanel, others were arrested and sent to the slave labor camp just for being involved with the revolutionaries, while the rest who neither fled nor were captured avoided Sarcho because they knew of their betrayal and were scared.

A few months later, Fang and the Order of the Angry One had judged that the revolutionary faction was completely washed from the city of Shubanel and stopped their investigations. Everyone associated with or resembling the revolutionaries had either been killed or dragged off to slave labor camps.

In the meantime, Sarcho was rewarded and awarded a valuable medal.

The day after a brief newspaper article was published about Sarcho’s role in spying and exposing the revolutionaries, a Halfling woman stopped Sarcho in a dimly lit alleyway.

“Are you Sarcho?”

“Yes.”

The woman took out a gun and pointed it at Sarcho’s chest.

“I’m Dain. You killed my friend.”

“…What was your friend’s name?”

“Garil.”

Sarcho looked at this small Halfling, Dain. One of her hands was missing. She was the friend that Garil had once mentioned, the one who had lost their hand while working at a factory.

Sarcho raised both hands and asked, “Are you also a revolutionary?”

“…What if I am?”

“I was looking for revolutionaries. In this city, it’s so hard to find any revolutionaries that I thought they no longer existed.”

“I was in another city. But I returned when I heard about Garil’s death, to avenge my friend… You were looking for revolutionaries? So you certainly must be one of the spies of Fang.”

Sarcho said, “I did not kill Garil.”

“I knew you would say that. But isn’t it true that he died because of you informing about them?”

“Would this satisfy you?”

“What?”

Sarcho raised their head.

“There were soldiers with guns and agents to track them down. There was a priest who supported all of those actions, and…a god who planned all of that. But to single me out and exclude all of them, coming after me and me alone—isn’t it because I am the only one you can kill?”

Since Sarcho was right, Dain couldn’t deny it.

Dain pulled the hammer of the gun and urged, “Shut up. Seems like you’re trying to buy time, but it’s useless. You’re going to die here.”

“If you’re going to kill me, let me say one thing. I was looking for the revolutionaries not to betray them but to apologize. If given another chance, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes.”

For some reason, Dain felt Sarcho’s words were truthful, but she couldn’t completely believe Sarcho. More than anything, she didn’t believe that Sarcho saying such words would bring a chance to change anything.

During the past few months, the flames of revolution seemed to be fading, and it didn’t seem like there would be another revolution. Thinking so, Dain decided to take personal revenge rather than work for a greater cause.

“You must be desperate to live while being held at gunpoint, but it’s too late.”

As Sarcho was about to say something, Dain pulled the trigger.

Dain was about to check if Sarcho was dead, but she heard the sound of a policeman’s whistle from afar. While Dain’s bullet had hit Sarcho’s chest, because it was winter, the thick winter coat Sarcho had been wearing softened the impact, and the bullet hit a rib causing fractures, but Sarcho survived.

After seeing the news report of Sarcho being attacked, Dain thought she would soon be caught. However, reading the next paragraph in the newspaper, Dain doubted her eyes, Sarcho hadn’t testified about her. Sarcho claimed that they were shot by a robber, and that the robber stole Sarcho’s wallet and ran away as a policeman came running toward them. And it seemed that the police believed the robber targeted Sarcho due to news about Sarcho receiving a reward.

‘So the story about the revolutionaries…was true?’

On the day Sarcho was discharged from the hospital, Sarcho met Dain again.

Dain said to Sarcho, “I am not satisfied.”

“…With what?”

“When I pointed the gun at you, you asked if I would be satisfied just by shooting you. Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

Sarcho nodded.

Dain then said, “Well, I am not satisfied, just by shooting you.”

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