The German divisional commander was grinding his teeth to dust. *Love and peace? I can see you're just here to take advantage of the situation.*
"I'm sorry, but there's active combat here. It's dangerous. Please leave at once."
"Sir, Dragon City does not involve itself in conflicts between nations."
"However, out of concern for human rights, we have the right to render aid to civilians. As for soldiers—should any of them seek our help, we will assist them as well. This is human rights. The fundamental right of every human being."
*Love. Peace. Human rights.* These phrases had been drilled into them through dedicated training.
When delivering these lines, smiling was strictly forbidden. A single lapse would mean punishment and demotion.
The German general curled his lip. He didn't believe a word of it, and his refusal remained iron-firm.
Then there was movement aboard the great steel warship.
Soldiers carrying Dragon God rifles filed down from the deck in perfectly ordered ranks.
Every man's gaze was fixed straight ahead. Their pace was identical. Even the movements of their hands were identical.
They descended in formations of extraordinary precision, their eyes resolute and fearless, as though they had crossed through time itself and stepped out of the future.
Several thousand men—an entire regiment—disembarked with mechanical regularity, falling into lines and assembling into a great square formation. They stood there in silence, and the sheer weight of it pressed down on the German soldiers like something physical.
Even the Germans, renowned for their discipline, could not have managed such perfect order.
Discipline like that meant fighting power couldn't be far behind.
And in their hands were those legendary Dragon God rifles.
Soldiers like these, armed with weapons like those—what terrifying force might they unleash?
He wanted to find out. But not from the wrong side of the battle line.
The German divisional commander was shaken, though he still refused to let his guard down.
*Stubborn Germans.*
*If these were Frenchmen, they'd have been all smiles by now.*
The Dragon City delegation leader had grown impatient. "Sir, this is France. It has not yet come under your rule. When and if you truly govern this country, you are welcome to come back and stop us."
"Regiment commander! Advance to designated positions! We will not initiate attacks against anyone—but anyone who dares attack us will be torn apart by the Dragon God! Move out!"
At the commander's order, the Dragon City warriors let out a unified battle cry, and the great square formation advanced as one body, without the slightest disorder.
Not a single soldier hesitated, even with German troops standing mere dozens of meters away.
The Germans were dumbstruck. Soldier after soldier felt the crushing pressure bearing down on them and began stepping back—slowly at first, then faster, then scattering to both sides.
A few were too slow to move. They stood frozen as the Dragon City men bore down on them, certain it was over.
Instead, the soldiers brushed past them without so much as a glance.
When the last of the thousands had passed, those few emerged again from the wake of that formation, standing there at a complete loss, not daring to move a muscle, foreheads slick with sweat—frightened out of their wits and shaken to their core.
The whole regiment had passed. His own soldiers had parted for them. A few looked like they'd been scared senseless.
The German divisional commander was helpless, but kept his voice hard. "We will be filing a report about what happened here today."
The Dragon City delegation leader smiled and waved a hand. Several men came forward carrying large crates.
"We of Dragon City despise war and cherish peace. We will not give you so much as a single rifle or a single bullet."
"But please accept this penicillin and these antibiotics. The boys under your command are so young. These supplies may save some of their lives."
The German divisional commander stiffened. He wanted to refuse. But he simply could not refuse the medicine.
The man was right. For some of his men, this might mean the difference between life and death.
In the end, he managed only a stiff, awkward word of thanks.
"Commander, rest assured—we will not render aid to any French soldier unless he has removed his uniform and sustained injuries."
"We hope the war ends soon. Even if it ends with Germany in complete control of France, at least the people here might live safely."
"Thank you." The German divisional commander forced out something resembling a smile, and in spite of himself he thought: *Dragon City people really do seem to be powerful and civilized and decent. And they certainly know how to talk.*
Of course, he would never say any of that out loud.
*Germany. Forever the strongest. Forever the greatest!*