Published: March 2, 2025
Whose fault is it?
The soldiers below the stage didn't know... or rather, they had a vague idea, but couldn't break down the logic behind it...
So, Mocha provided his own answer.
"It is those big shots who give us orders!"
"Celestial god, Lin Haifeng, Wen Yu... I don't know exactly what happened, nor do I understand how things ended up like this, but I still have the ability to discern right from wrong. I believe that turning the knife against our comrades, whether killing or being killed, is wrong. Therefore, I refused the orders from the celestial god."
"The celestial god was very angry... and my tone at the time must have displeased him, so you can probably guess the consequences of this refusal. Similarly, this refusal has brought out many difficult problems… The main issue lies in our current identities."
As Mocha's voice rang out, the army below instantly fell silent...
What had just happened was too sudden. These powerful yet brutish soldiers couldn't fathom the deep-seated issues hidden within. Now that Mocha brought it up, it instantly awakened everyone below.
What does identity problem mean?
In the past, they were soldiers under the celestial god, but now, with Mocha leading them to break away from the celestial god's side, their identities had become awkward.
This wasn't just a matter of position; it involved many interests—who would handle logistics?
Once subordinates of the celestial god, now they were No one...
Being driven out of the main battlefield meant no battles to fight, and with no battles, there were no spoils, no money, and no food or drink. They possessed great power but lacked two crucial sources of income—support from a backing force and additional profits from the main battlefield.
Do not underestimate these two points; in the past, they were the only two sources of income for these soldiers.
"I thought a lot about this earlier, and I came up with the following options for retreat."
Mocha said, then pointed to the neatly lined-up human soldiers at the outer circle and said, "You all can go home, each to their own, and with your strength, you should have no worries about food and clothing."
The human soldiers under the celestial god were mostly gathered from various super hubs. As for loyalty... come on, what loyalty? Even if there was, it was loyalty to their own country's hub. If there was no main battlefield, they would rather not lose their military salary, right? Am I supposed to live off the scraps with those homeless people struggling to survive?
The treatment of soldiers was far better than those homeless folks who couldn't secure a meal!
So the choice was obvious.
These white strongmen, African brothers, and the like dropped their weapons with a clatter. They simply saluted Mocha and then turned to leave.
These warriors, who mingled in the main battlefield, were all peak level 7, and among them were even a few limit breaker experts. Where couldn’t this group find food and drink? They could lie at home, and the next day, mid-level officials from the hub would come to visit. Thus, the military rank would circle back and return...
Even if they shamelessly took off their uniforms and returned to the main battlefield to negotiate with Fang Bai, a strong warrior from Beijing would emerge freshly minted.
Don’t think they were ignorant of those higher-up issues; ignorance had its benefits. At the very least, all they needed to worry about was filling their own stomachs!
With this departure, four-fifths of the human soldiers originally under Mocha's command were gone...
The remaining one-fifth were soldiers cultivated by the celestial god in the later stages, but after five years of fighting side by side, it was clear that Mocha, who shared meals and fought together, had much more prestige than the distant celestial god.
Mocha glanced at the humans who remained, nodded gently to signal them to stand behind him, and then looked at the numerous groups of mutated beasts.
At this moment, these mutated beasts were confused, clearly caught off guard by the sudden change.