Iron Dynasty Chapter 1011

Silence enveloped Wales City as the final beams of the setting sun disappeared.

Deviating from its typical serene vibe, the atmosphere in Wales today buzzed with heavy tension.

Per the temporary decree's mandates, Wales' inhabitants were forced to cover a soldier's meal expenses. Even though reluctance gnawed at their hearts, nobody mustered the guts to push back.

The savage incidents from daylight had terrified them to their core, and none wanted to gamble their lives on outright refusal.

“Officer, here's bread, jerky, cheese, and red wine. Please dig in.”

Inside what looked like a prosperous residence, Chang Yuzhu lounged at a table, anticipating the homeowner's delivery of grub. For these long-distance travelers, a proper supper was an urgent necessity right now.

Pending the arrival of the next supply shipment, they'd have to rely on Wales' local stores to sustain themselves. Raiding resources from the conquered stood as a crucial talent.

“Not bad, it's more lavish than anticipated.”

Chang Yuzhu eyed the dishes arrayed on the table, his glance brushing over the homeowner—a chubby middle-aged guy who clearly had feasted luxuriously for years.

As Chang Yuzhu savored his meal, imperial troops maneuvered through Wales' streets in coordinated teams. Duties split them across various districts, each handling twelve homes.

Each dozen-strong team broke into four trios for dining shifts. When one man stepped inside to chow down, his two partners stood guard outside.

Their downtime followed a similar protocol to safeguard against threats. After all, to the locals, these invaders were foes, demanding constant caution in hostile territory.

Moreover, Lei Ming enforced a strict curfew, deploying sentries to scour Wales. Any Brit spotted outdoors after dark faced immediate execution.

The machine gun crews, treated as vital assets, bunked at the Governor’s Office along with their gear. Support staff from logistics handled their provisions.

“Commander, we've uncovered this ledger from the Governor’s Office. It details everything about Wales.” Shi Yanjun presented a neatly bound report.

“Read it out!” Lei Ming fished a cigarette pack from his coat and sparked one up.

Like countless commanders, once hooked on tobacco, quitting became a battle in itself. For frontline warriors, few vices offered such mental relief.

That said, these smokes came at a premium, with just a single imperial factory churning them out. And the mastermind behind it? None other than the Emperor himself.

“Records show nine thousand homes of relocated free folk in Wales, totaling around thirty-five thousand souls. Another twenty thousand households stem from banished offenders' lineages, numbering about sixty-eight thousand. The remainder consists of seven thousand convicts shipped from Britain over the last three years.”

Pausing briefly, Shi Yanjun pressed on, “Lately, they've expanded numerous ranches and fields beyond Wales. That includes 33,320 plots of farmland and 600 varied grazing lands. The ranches focus on beef herds and woolly sheep, whereas farms yield wheat, barley, oil crops, cotton, and sugarcane.”

Lei Ming absorbed this and erupted in booming chuckles. “Seizing Australia this round proves a goldmine. The Brits toiled here for ages, and now their labors fall into our laps. From livestock to cotton, it's all primed and waiting—we merely reap the harvest.”

Shi Yanjun grinned in agreement. “Couldn't agree more. With such abundant prepped lands and herds, securing them ensures our Aussie garrison eats and dresses well. Still, Wales teems with too many Brits. A revolt from them could spell disaster for our hold and stall further advances.”

Lei Ming's face hardened. Shi Yanjun voiced the very worries plaguing his mind.

He knew full well these Brits cowered only under raw firepower. In spirit, they'd never bend, steeped as they were in fierce national pride.

To the British mind, his forces spelled outsider aggression, pure enmity. Harmony, bodily or otherwise, lay forever out of reach.

Thus, two paths loomed before him: unleash harsh measures to enslave Wales' populace outright, or extend lenient governance and levy taxes peacefully.

The first risked immediate uproar and clashes, while the second invited eventual turmoil from ruling a facade of calm amid seething foreign divides.

Yet over a decade of brutal campaigns had forged Lei Ming's iron will. He quizzed Shi Yanjun, “Flip the script—how'd these Brits handle us in their shoes?”

“Commander, no need to wonder. They'd chain us as slaves, auctioning us off to toil in distant outposts. It's their standard playbook.”

“Exactly.” Lei Ming's gaze turned steely. “We'll treat them like the barbarians we crushed before.”

Shi Yanjun nodded with fervor. Without binding these folks, he'd toss and turn sleeplessly. “I'll relay orders to the officers now for prep. Over the coming two days, we'll proclaim the Slave Act, consigning all these losers to servitude.”

Lei Ming approved with a nod. “Plus, dispatch a rider with our victory dispatch pronto. We won't linger indefinitely.”

Shi Yanjun assented, then wavered before adding, “Commander, the troops bled fiercely to claim this turf. Feels a shame to pull out empty-handed, no? Wales scratches just the surface of Australia's vastness, with endless rich expanses ahead. Abandoning it untouched seems criminal.”

Lei Ming's eyes narrowed. Commanding legions tested one's mettle deeply. Troops were flesh and blood, harboring base urges like any. Let generals spoil them, and soldiers morphed into marauders. History brimmed with leaders who'd greenlit such outlets to vent pent-up rage.

The empire's ranks upheld ironclad order, yet that diverged from battlefield zeal. Hence, rewards for overseas thrusts persisted in imperial doctrine.

And the saying “three years soldiering, riches flow like oil” echoed in common lore.

“What, taken a shine to it here?” Lei Ming teased with a laugh.

Shi Yanjun replied, “Commander, against Guandong's bitter chills, the Brits call this land balmy and moist year-round. That's why they prized it so. Tasked with claiming it, we ought to capitalize on the spoils at hand.”