Dark Ruins Dawn

Chapter 99 The New King
After the old king was beheaded, the rat-men tribes that occupied the area around Lin Hai City fell into complete chaos.

Outposts of all sizes were scattered throughout the area, some housing tens of thousands of ratmen, others only a few hundred.

They were once boils under Tataji's iron fist, forced to solidify by violence.

Now that the iron fist has broken, the abscess has ruptured, and it's only a matter of time before it collapses.

With his years of prestige, Master Rat quickly suppressed the unrest in several of the largest strongholds.

Like a seasoned paperhanger, he used words and promises as pulp to temporarily patch up the cracks in the rat-man dynasty.

But this is only a stopgap measure.

The ratmen of Linhai City have lost heart.

Without a new leader, they will be swallowed up by the ratmen from other places, plundered by the Apocalypse Cult, or devoured by other predators.

The advisor pinned his hopes on Jetta.

But Jetta is not a demon king; he does not possess the innate bloodline pressure that allows him to command thousands of rats.

If he wants to become king, he must prove one thing to all the rat people: that he can lead his people to forge a new path.

"Go give a speech."

Rat Advisor's plan was simple and direct: "Go to every stronghold, win over every ratman you can, and do it quickly, because those ambitious people are also lobbying."

Jetta's public image has become crucial.

Old Fukang's suggestion was to put on the captured Apocalypse Cult power armor and use absolute power to intimidate.

After all, in the eyes of the generally short rat-men, a steel behemoth more than two meters tall is itself a symbol of intimidation.

But Jetta and his advisor both rejected it.

"Old Fukang, if I really wear it, I'm afraid I'll fall into the trap of the Apocalypse Cult and end up promoting their propaganda for free."

"And what's the difference between someone hiding in a metal shell and shouting to their own people and a Tataji?"

Jetta seemed to be saying to itself, "I don't want them to be afraid of me, I want them to trust me."

Old Fukang nodded, respecting his decision.

Ultimately, Jetta opted for a powered exoskeleton.

The metal frame fit snugly against his body, enhancing his strength without obscuring his true form.

He took off his simple leather armor and put on a suit of armor pieced together from various biological leathers.

The wrist guards were made from the scales shed by the snake people, and a pair of rhinoceros horns were inlaid on the shoulders;

A green fang necklace hangs on his chest, each tooth representing Jetta's past achievements.

Before setting off, he dipped his fingertips in scarlet paint and drew two rough battle lines on his cheeks.

The new king in the mirror is cold and majestic.

Old Fukang felt relieved.

The first stop of the speech was a medium-sized brown ratman stronghold, where nearly two thousand ratmen were stationed.

The Rat Advisor believed that they should first accumulate small victories, starting with strongholds of a few hundred people to increase their prestige, and then plan for a major victory.

But Jetta chose this location for another important reason: all his black rat kin were imprisoned here.

When Jetta and his party arrived at the dungeon, Santa was already standing to the side with a slight bow, waiting for the new king to receive them.

The first thing that caught his eye was four enormous steel structures, towering and terrifying.

Santa's heart sank.

Is this the power of the new king? He has come with such terrifying force—is it a demonstration of power, or a purge?
Santa instinctively shrank his neck and squeezed in with the other black ratmen.

"Santa".

A familiar voice fell.

Santa suddenly looked up, his gaze passing through the four steel giants and landing on the figure behind him.

It was a black ratman, wearing a powered exoskeleton and animal skin armor, with blood-red battle markings painted on his face.

But he recognized that face, those eyes.

It's a Jetta.

Santa's mind went completely blank.

What's he doing here, wearing that gear?

Did he defect to the new king?

Jetta strode forward, with Rat Master following behind, signaling the guards to open the cell door.

“Jetta, you…” Santa’s voice was hoarse.

Jetta didn't say much, but stepped forward and gave him a deep hug.

"I'm late, are you all alright?"

"No...it's okay."

Santa's stiff body relaxed.

It turned out that Jetta had put aside past grievances and pleaded for him before the new king.

This affection was like a branding iron, searing his heart.

The other Black Rat tribesmen, upon seeing Jetta, were initially stunned, but then erupted into a commotion.

"Jetta Brothers!"

"I knew you wouldn't forget us!"

They all gathered around, patting Jetta on the back and chattering about their hardships over the past few days.

The brief exchange of pleasantries was quickly interrupted.

The Rat Advisor stepped forward and whispered a reminder: "It's almost time. All the rats outside have arrived."

Jetta nodded and said to Santa and the others, "Come with me, all of you."

Santa paused for a moment, then realized he was going to see the new king, and followed behind the other black ratmen.

Leading the way was Jetta, followed by four powered armored soldiers and more than thirty well-equipped Black Rat guards, their footsteps heavy and drum-like.

The group walked for a long time, and Santa's doubts deepened.

Where is the new king?
In the central square of the stronghold, nearly two thousand brown ratmen gathered together, mixed with a small number of black ratmen.

Most of them were ragged, with blank expressions, and were both restless and uneasy.

Jetta had never seen such a scene before. He stood at the entrance, his palms slightly sweaty.

"Don't be nervous."

The Rat Advisor walked up to him and said, “Just say what you really think. Although the Rat People aren’t very bright, they can read your sincerity.”

Jetta took a deep breath and nodded.

He did not have the guards clear the way, nor did he let the armored soldiers go first. Instead, he walked alone, step by step, towards the center of the square, to the simple platform made of wooden stakes.

Countless gazes fell upon him, filled with scrutiny, vigilance, and undisguised hostility.

But the hostility on the field subsided slightly when four armored soldiers stood silently below the stage, scanning their surroundings with tactical goggles.

Jetta stood on the platform and looked around.

He saw many familiar faces, including childhood playmates and elderly people who had watched him grow up.

His voice, amplified by the exoskeleton, resounded throughout the entire square, clear and powerful.

"My name is Jetta."

“I grew up here, and many of you know me, and you should know my father.”

His voice gradually became calmer.

"As far back as I can remember, I've never had enough to eat or wear. I have to do a lot of work every day and fight every day. Today we fight the greenskins, tomorrow the walkers, and the day after tomorrow the lizardmen. Our people are constantly decreasing, and our home is slowly shrinking."

“I watched as the ratmen outside the city grew weaker day by day, heading towards extinction under Tataji’s leadership. I could no longer back down, so I stepped forward.”

Before he could finish speaking, an elderly brown rat-man darted out from the crowd, pointing at Jetta and cursing loudly.

"Shut up! You black ratman, what right do you have to spout nonsense here! You are not one of our kind!"

It is hoarse, sharp, and highly provocative.

"And you, Chief of Staff!"

Its withered claws turned to the Rat Advisor: "You get out too! You've colluded with outsiders, you're a traitor to the Rat People! You're an enemy collaborator!"

The rats were instantly set ablaze.

"Yes, get out!"

"The Black Ratmen are not fit to be our kings!"

"traitor!"

A chorus of insults rose and fell, and some of the agitated brown rat people even grabbed trash and stones from the ground and threw them at Jetta.

Jetta stood still, without flinching.

He even stopped the armored soldiers' machine gun threat.

A pebble flew by and cut his forehead, causing blood to flow down and mix with the red paint.

Santa stood behind the swarm of rats, and he had been in a state of great shock ever since Jetta stepped onto the platform.

It turns out, Jetta is the new king.

At this moment, seeing Jetta bleeding and facing the humiliation and attack of his own kind, the scales in his heart had already tipped.

"These guys are going too far!"

His eyes reddened, and he clenched his fists, ready to rush forward.

The Rat Advisor stopped him, shook his head, and gestured for him to calm down.

From the shadows in the corner, a figure draped in a black cloak quietly appeared.

Zhuang Fan watched from afar without intervening, curious about how Jetta would handle the situation.

Jetta stood on the stage, isolated and helpless.

The clamor and insults below faded into the distance at that moment.

Looking at those angry or numb faces, his eyes suddenly became clear.

He wiped the blood from his face, glanced down, and spoke slowly.

"In the past ten years or so, I have never thrown a stone at my fellow countrymen."

The sound of the Jetta drowned out all the noise.

"What drove you to throw stones at me?"

Was it someone else's deception and instigation?

"Or do you really hate me, hate me for doing something to hurt you?"

"Or perhaps you're just worried that I'll retaliate against you endlessly, like Tataji did?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it struck the hearts of every ratman with a heavy blow.

"When I was very young, the number of black rat people and brown rat people outside the city was about the same. Although the old demon king was a black rat person, he never favored either side."

"Since his death, Tataji came to power and began to purge the Black Ratmen. We were powerless to resist and were treated as slaves and oppressed at will."

"The root of all this is not our skin color, but the deliberate suppression and instigation by Tataji."

"He needs to exploit free labor, stir up internal conflicts, and make us hate and fight each other in order to consolidate his shaky throne."

“My father, on the night before he was killed by Tataji, was still telling me that hatred can't solve anything. We are all ratmen, our differences are negligible, we could have lived in harmony, so why are we now at odds?”

"It seems that we are caught in an endless cycle of revenge and retribution, and we can never erase the grudges between us."

Jetta's voice carried a hint of suppressed sorrow.

"I'm standing here because I want to completely change this cycle and I don't want to go back to the way things were in the past."

The rats fell silent.

Many of the rat-men lowered their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.

Just as the commotion among the rats subsided, the elderly brown rat elder jumped out again.

"His words are more eloquent than his actions. Those who are not of our kind must have different hearts! Don't be fooled by this kid!"
"Once he becomes king, he will definitely try every means to take revenge on us and drain us dry!"

"I bother!"

The elderly Fukang roared angrily, "Didn't Tataji squeeze you dry when he was around?!"

The elder brown rat was rendered speechless by the rebuttal.

Jetta spoke in a deep voice:
“Tataji was your Brown Rat Demon King, your kin, your king, but what did you eat? What did you drink? Why did all of you Brown Rat people breathe a sigh of relief when Tataji died?”

"Whether it's a black rat or a brown rat doesn't matter at all! What matters is who will be king, who has the ability to govern, and who can ensure everyone has enough to eat and wear!"

His words carried weight, eliciting whispers from the rat horde, with many rat-men nodding slightly. Seeing the wavering morale, the elder brown rat pointed to the power armor behind Jetta, his voice sharp:

"Then tell me, where did you get these lumps of iron from? Don't tell me you made them yourself!"

Jetta did not shy away from this topic:

"These armors are spoils of war we captured when we fought against the Apocalypse Cult! We have excellent equipment, as well as clean water and food!"

"As long as you are willing to believe in me, I will give you a future where you can have enough to eat and wear!"

"Water and food?"

The elder brown rat scoffed, "You're nothing but a puppet pushed to the forefront by others. How could you possibly conjure up these things?"

"The people standing behind you are those humans from the recycling center, right? Can you trust humans? They only see us as tools!"

Its companions also joined in the commotion:

"That's right! We want to establish a new king! As long as the brown ratman is the leader!"

"Listen to the gods! Welcome divine revelation! We should not imitate these corrupt humans!"

Upon hearing this, Zhuang Fan's gaze fell upon the rat-man who was shouting "divine revelation."

Sure enough, followers of the Apocalypse Church had infiltrated and were stirring up trouble at the scene.

Some Apocalypse believers continued to target the Rat Master.

"Advisor, you have betrayed your own race and led us into humanity's trap. What is your punishment!"

Faced with the overwhelming accusations, the Rat Advisor slowly stepped forward. He did not deliver a passionate speech, but responded calmly and forcefully:
"You all know in your hearts how many of you are followers of the Apocalypse Church, so there's no need to pretend anymore. I know better than you what the Apocalypse Church is like when it goes mad."

"They will only use you as cannon fodder and sacrifices, using your flesh and blood to pave the way for their so-called 'divine revelation,' which is a dead end!"

He stretched out his hand and pointed at the Jetta.

"Jetta King, what he taught you was to learn to take up steel to protect yourselves. Do you really have no answer in your hearts regarding right and wrong?"

The atmosphere on the field became tense, and the rats warily eyed their fellow rats.

The followers of the Apocalypse Church are notorious in the wasteland for their madness and cannot coexist with many races.

Tataji's insistence on becoming the Patriarch of the Apocalypse Church fueled the discontent among his people to its peak.

Jetta's voice rang out again, this time with remarkable composure.

"There are countless ratmen on the wasteland, and there are also countless rat kings and leaders."

"If you think I'm a bad leader, you can leave and choose a demon king you think you can rely on."

“Even if that day comes, I will not stop it, because it would mean that our people will finally have a choice, instead of just one brutal Tataji.”

These words moved most of the ratmen present.

How much worse can it get?
At worst, he'll just be another Tataji, but what if he really can change things?

Just as people's hearts were turning towards Jetta, a suffocating pressure descended without warning.

The ratmen behind him shuddered; it was a fear that came from their very blood.

The rats instinctively parted to make way for each other.

Two figures slowly walked in from behind.

The leader was a burly human man, shrouded in eerie mist, obscuring his face.

But Zhuang Fan recognized the aura; the newcomer was none other than the escaped demon general, Iron Tower, whom he had fought before.

Beside him was an elderly brown rat-man.

Those Apocalypse cultists mixed in with the crowd instantly became fanatical upon seeing the Iron Tower, raising their arms high.

"The divine messenger has descended! The divine messenger has descended!"

The Eiffel Tower's gaze swept across the entire area.

"I declare."

He pointed to the brown ratman beside him, "This new patriarch is your new king."

"Who agrees? Who disagrees?"

The rats trembled, and none dared to speak.

Most of the hesitant brown ratmen on the field immediately stood up and stood on the side of the iron tower without looking back.

Only a small fraction of the ratmen remained, still hesitating in place.

Iron Tower's gaze was filled with dissatisfaction as he slowly turned to Jetta on the platform, his expression full of disdain.

"A petty scoundrel, an unknown nobody, dares to presume to call himself the Rat King?"

Jetta forced himself to remain calm; his backer was the boss, but the boss hadn't arrived yet.

The Iron Tower is one of the twelve apostles of the Apocalypse Church. He has a lot of resources at his disposal and is very powerful.

All the rats thought Jetta was doomed.

But Jetta did not back down. "This is an internal matter for the Skaven, and has nothing to do with your Apocalypse Cult."

"Ha, the tone of a junior like you..."

The machine guns of the four armored soldiers suddenly spun, their flames sweeping towards the puppet-like body of the iron tower.

“Da da da da—!”

The tower's body shattered on the spot, becoming unrecognizable.

Jetta really dares to use a gun!
The rat-men on both sides were terrified and quickly hid to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

"Okay, okay..."

In mid-air, the black mist of the iron tower gradually condensed, its voice filled with utter humiliation.

A thick cloud of dark mist erupted from his palm, ignoring all the gunfire, and rushed straight toward Jetta.

The rats stared at the dark fog with awe in their eyes, while Old Fukang's heart was in his throat, and he shouted for Jetta to get out of the way quickly.

But while flying straight, it suddenly turned and flew directly toward a figure wearing a black cloak.

Zhuang Fan slowly raised a hand from under his cloak, easily dispelling the menacing dark fog.

He uttered four words in a nonchalant tone:
"He is defeated."

"It's you, it's you again..."

The iron tower was both shocked and frightened, and even the eerie mist that maintained its shape became disordered.

It's that mysterious demon general again!

Last time, the opponent easily devoured two demon generals, and now that it has reappeared, its aura seems even more terrifying than before.

"Do not……"

The tower tried to struggle, only to find that the eerie mist within its body was leaking out uncontrollably.

"Hey——!"

The iron tower emitted a high-frequency shriek.

He actually tore his own body, which was made of dark mist, apart to sever his tail and survive.

A small, weak, eerie mist, carrying his core consciousness, fled in panic, not even daring to glance at Zhuang Fan.

The Apocalypse believers stood there dumbfounded, their fanaticism replaced by confusion.

The divine messenger... just escaped like that?

The brown rat elder who came with the iron tower was so frightened that he ran away in a panic.

Once the Iron Tower fled, the brown rat-men who had chosen the wrong side scattered like birds and beasts, fearing they would be purged at any moment.

This left Zhuang Fan speechless for a moment, adding another layer of understanding to the blind obedience of the rat people.

In the end, only four hundred or so brown ratmen remained hesitant, and one hundred black ratmen remained steadfast.

"Thank you for your trust."

Jetta's voice carried a hint of sincerity, "There may not be much I can do, but I can assure you that from today onwards, you will receive clean water and food, your work will be arranged more reasonably, and you will have better equipment."

The Rat Advisor also stepped forward, his voice booming:
"All ratmen who are willing to submit to King Jetta, you may now receive your share of food and water for today!"

This sentence became the final push.

The boxes of food and clean water were brought out, unpacked, and placed in front of everyone.

"I...I do!"

"Thank you, sir, but I'm starving!"

All the brown rat-men swarmed over.

The allure of reality is far more persuasive than promises.

Four armored soldiers stood there, their tactical goggles scanning the entire area. Not a single ratman dared to scramble for it, and the scene was orderly.

Jetta was stunned by what he saw.

He jogged up to Zhuang Fan, a hint of embarrassment and apology on his face.

"Boss, I failed again. I couldn't retain most of the brown ratmen..."

"You did well enough."

Zhuang Fan was very satisfied with his performance.

Jetta looked at the ratmen who had stayed only for the food, a hint of confusion flashing across his face:
"Boss, should I... use water and food as leverage to win them over in the future?"

Zhuang Fan shook his head: "Then you've got it backwards."

The Rat Advisor walked over and explained to Jetta in a low voice:

"What the master means is... to first paint a picture of the future and use the ideology to filter out those rat people who are weak-willed or have ulterior motives, and then use food and water to stabilize people's hearts for those who are willing to stay."

“If we use food and water to win them over from the beginning, almost no ratmen will refuse. But in that case, the ratmen who come in will be of mixed quality, and there may even be spies from the Apocalypse Cult, which does not conform to your ideal of a lean and efficient government.”

Jetta suddenly realized, "The boss is truly a genius!"
Zhuang Fan's gaze fell on the Rat Advisor. "Advisor, you weren't born a rat, were you?"

The Rat Advisor gave a bitter smile: "Your Excellency has a discerning eye. I used to be a storyteller, but I was unfortunately attacked by bandits and rescued by a caravan of rat people. And then... I became what I am now."

Zhuang Fan didn't press further, but instead explained the follow-up strategy to the two of them.

"The rat people are generally lazy and undisciplined. You must use severe punishments to restrain them. If you can consolidate one or two thousand rat people in the early stages, that will be quite good."

"First, establish a solid foundation and stabilize the internal operations. This will prevent you from losing your footing when you expand later."

Jetta listened attentively, even taking out a small notebook from his pocket to write down everything he said.

After taking notes, Jetta remembered something else.

He quietly walked up to Zhuang Fan and whispered about Santa's situation.

“Boss, Santa is a straightforward guy, brave but lacking in strategy. He used to train new recruits under Tataji, but now our team is short-handed, so could we let him…”

Zhuang Fan certainly remembered Santana. "What's wrong? Is there a problem?"

“Boss…you said before that those ratmen who broke away would no longer be part of our team, so I didn’t dare to make any decisions on my own.”

Zhuang Fan glanced at him, then pondered for a moment:

"If Santa can prove his worth, then let him stay. As for the other black ratmen, they must undergo the same rigorous assessment as the newly joined ratmen."

"Boss, I understand!"

The Rat Advisor chimed in, "My lord, I will set about developing a strict set of rules."

Jetta walked quickly to Santana.

The latter was looking at him with a complicated expression, her eyes showing surprise, doubt, and guilt.

"Santa".

Jetta carefully considered his tone: "I'm short-handed right now, and there are a lot of new recruits. I need an instructor to train them. Do you want to come back?"

Santa was slightly taken aback.

He stared at the still-dry bloodstain on Jetta's forehead for a long time before letting out a long sigh.

"Jetta, you are right, I am wrong. I am sorry for the people who suffered with me."

After saying that, he knelt on one knee and lowered his head.

"My king, thank you for forgiving me. I will prove my worth through my actions!"

Jetta silently accepted his kneeling before reaching out to help him up.

Zhuang Fan then walked up to Santa and casually said:

"Since Jetta has accepted you, why don't you change your name to Santana? It sounds better. From now on, you and Lao Fukang will work together to assist Jetta King."

"Thank you for changing my name, sir!"

　I've finally managed to update a stable 6 words per day! One chapter now is equivalent to three chapters before, but it means I'm spending twice as much time writing each day—it takes me 10 hours to finish. Slow and steady wins the race! By the way, I'd appreciate a monthly vote, thank you!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)