Does everyone have this kind of feeling?
When you're thirsty, you think you could drink a whole bucket of water in one go, even a whole vat — but in reality, most people feel uncomfortably full after just a few hundred milliliters from a single bottle. When you stand on the track full of energy, you think you can run a 9.5-second hundred meters and crush Bolt — but after just a few seconds of running, you already feel completely drained.
This shows that people's expectations of themselves are always higher than their actual limits. Another similar thought is, "If I went and did it, I would definitely succeed, but…" — but there's no need to listen to what comes after that, because this person is certainly overestimating himself.
Lillian was the same.
He originally thought he could at least keep running for one kilometer. But before even reaching eight hundred meters, he was already panting heavily, his chest faintly aching, his throat beginning to burn with dryness. There was no choice — on the one hand, he had been a shut-in for too long, and mentally he found long-distance running hard to accept. On the other hand, this body was truly frail, with very poor heart and lung function. If he kept running, he might even risk sudden death.
So he decisively stopped running, though he forced himself not to stop and rest, instead switching to a fast walk.
As he walked, he kept using the portable telescope hanging around his neck to observe his surroundings, constantly watching for any Titans nearby.
This flat plain did have one advantage — the view was wide and unobstructed. With the naked eye, the advantage might not be great, but with a telescope it was different. He could easily see scenery several thousand meters away. Small things were hard to make out, but if it were a Titan, there was absolutely no way it could escape his sight.
Of course, this portable telescope was certainly not as good as the professional one mounted on the platform. The latter could reach ten-times magnification. But its disadvantage was also obvious — it could not be handheld. With even a slight tremble of the hand, the image would drift off somewhere unknown. It had to be fixed on a stand. The portable one was much better in that regard — he could walk and look at the same time without any problem.
After confirming that there were no Titans around, Lillian finally relaxed a little. There was nothing to hide — he really was very afraid. Who wouldn't be? These were Titans — once they caught you, they would eat you alive!
And what was most terrifying was that their faces were also human faces. Because of the uncanny valley effect, they looked even more horrifying. So Lillian was trembling with fear, not daring to hesitate. After walking for a while and recovering some stamina, he began running again.
Finally, after about forty or fifty minutes, he saw the humans.
There were probably fewer than a thousand of them. Every one of them was ragged and exhausted, walking like living corpses. They did not look like humans — rather, they looked like a wandering horde of zombies.
But morale was secondary. In Lillian's view, the biggest mistake this group had made was — they had gone in the wrong direction!
They were far too far from the walls. Probably because of the Titans, they had been fleeing in panic, running blindly and losing their way, ending up here, almost near the edge of the island.
But it was precisely because they had gone the wrong way that Lillian was able to see them. In that sense, misfortune had brought fortune.
At this moment, Lillian could see them, but they could not see Lillian. His thin figure was too small to make out at a distance. So, considering that running straight up to them might scare them, and that he had to make them understand that they were going the wrong way and had to turn back, he hesitated for a moment, thought about what to say, then circled around.
From the side, he spent twenty minutes detouring to the rear of this group of humans, and only then did he begin running toward them at a quick pace.
"Hey! Hey!"
He shouted as he ran, but the group of people continued forward in silence, moving aimlessly. When they heard his voice, they gradually slowed, turning their heads to look.
Their murky eyes saw a child wearing a uniform they didn't recognize running toward them from behind, and they were slightly surprised. Compared to their disheveled and filthy appearances, this child clearly had not experienced this "Long March."
Moreover, among the 250,000 participants in this operation, there were no children. Children were allowed to stay behind, farming inside the walls — do you think the government was being kind? No, they didn't care about the lives of refugee children.
The reason children were left behind was simply to ensure that those 250,000 adults would willingly execute the operation. After all, who didn't know that this operation was basically a suicide mission? Many of the 250,000 understood this, so they preferred to let their children survive while they went to die themselves.
Otherwise, if children were also forced to participate, it would be tantamount to exterminating entire families, something the common people in feudal times could hardly accept. Then, who could guarantee that among these 250,000 refugees, someone wouldn't rise and shout: "If I die today, I die with this plan. Wait, can a doomed nation survive?"
If 250,000 people rebelled together, even if the government could suppress them bloodily, casualties would still be severe, and their rule might collapse. So they avoided this costly gamble, providing a little pocket money to support the children instead — a minor cost, compared to losing their positions.
Thus, by giving these people a small hope, they would obediently go to their deaths.
Facing over a thousand pairs of eyes staring at him, Lillian took a deep breath and shouted, "I am a messenger of the King's Special Regiment! I am here to find soldiers of the Operation to Reclaim Wall Maria! Your mission is over. You may return now!"
If he wanted to successfully return inside the walls, he could not rely on his own strength. Uniting all these people was essential. In a monarchy, to achieve that, one had to place a crown of authority on their own head, granting oneself power.
With this frail body, earning their trust was useless; he had to earn their awe.
"Return…"
"Special Regiment?"
"Has the king not forgotten us?"
"Wuwuwu…"
The crowd reacted differently: some in disbelief, some overjoyed, others weeping into their hands… but more than that, their eyes glimmered greedily at the backpack on Lillian's back.
A few of them, looking less friendly, stepped closer.
"What are you trying to do?"
Lillian looked into their eyes and guessed their intentions. He swiftly pulled an automatic rifle from his back, aiming it at them.
"We don't believe you, kid"
"What's in your bag?"
"I'm so hungry…"
They had no idea what weapon Lillian held. After all, ordinary people had barely seen a breech-loading rifle, let alone a modern automatic rifle.
Summer insects cannot discuss ice, well frogs cannot discuss the ocean.
Because of ignorance comes fearlessness.
"One more step forward, and I will execute you according to the King's law!"
Lillian's tone was icy. In fact, he had anticipated this moment while running here. And, honestly, he needed this moment. Without bloodshed, one cannot establish deterrence.
Execute?
The few exchanged glances and continued forward, indifferent. The rest of the crowd also watched silently, saying nothing.
Lillian took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.