Chapter 1535: Refugees
Yang Haoran felt an incomparable shock in his heart upon realizing that Xiao Kang had become the driving force behind this ongoing war. This was not something one could achieve with mere competence; it demanded colossal ability. Even if Yang Haoran himself were to undertake such a task, he wouldn't dare claim he could accomplish it, yet Xiao Kang had.
Despite learning that Xiao Kang was the architect of this war, Yang Haoran harbored no desire to halt him. This was partly because events were unfolding precisely as he had envisioned, and partly because he was utterly incapable of stopping Xiao Kang in the first place.
Furthermore, this war had already reached a white-hot intensity. All factions had long since fought with bloodshot eyes, and it was utterly impossible for them to cease fighting until their objectives were met or they were thoroughly crushed by the enemy. Not only was Yang Haoran incapable of stopping Xiao Kang, but even if he could, he wouldn't be able to alter the current trajectory of the conflict. The war would rage on regardless, so there was no point in him expending futile effort.
Ever since the war fully erupted, large numbers of people had been steadily arriving at Great Night's Half-Moon Island daily via spatial teleportation. They hailed from all corners of the world and were almost exclusively refugees. Apart from a minuscule number of less powerful non-ordinary individuals, the overwhelming majority were ordinary people, utterly devoid of any strength.
While ordinary people were coveted and protected by many factions, this was not universally true. Some smaller and mid-sized powers, whose leaders harbored no ambition of attaining godhood, naturally had little need for ordinary citizens. In their eyes, common folk were nothing more than bottom-tier laborers, and thus, they made no special effort to protect them during wartime.
Conversely, those factions that *did* value ordinary people either found themselves struggling to survive, utterly unable to spare a thought for common folk, or had been completely obliterated by enemy powers. Thus, whenever a great war erupted, refugees were an inevitable consequence, and this conflict was certainly no exception.
Yang Haoran had long anticipated such circumstances, and thus, he assigned Myriad Ghost Grotto a new task: to collaborate with Great Night's envoys stationed across the globe and guide refugees everywhere towards a path of survival. Any who wished to join Great Night and become its citizens would be transported to start a new life within its borders.
While Great Night was not one hundred percent impervious to danger, it was not the epicenter of the battles, making it considerably safer by comparison. Upon joining Great Night, refugees would not only be free from concerns about food and clothing but would also receive excellent protection in these turbulent times. Such a beneficial arrangement was naturally not refused by the refugees, and consequently, this initiative progressed very smoothly, with vast numbers of them arriving daily on Half-Moon Island via spatial rifts.
Throughout these years of war, Yang Haoran had saved countless refugees through this system, simultaneously garnering an ever-growing number of believers. Great Night's national strength burgeoned with the influx of these refugees, and the Faith Power blessed upon him consequently multiplied daily.
In this conflict, while Great Night was deeply involved, it had never once vied for territory with its allies or other factions. Resources that would significantly boost a faction's overall strength were also not something Great Night contended for. Great Night *only* 'snatched' people – openly requesting them, and secretly seizing them. The former strategy was for allies, the latter for hostile forces.
Precisely because of this, throughout these years of war, the number of ordinary people in Great Night had doubled repeatedly, and several more islands with burgeoning cities had been added. Due to Great Night's excellent policies, which treated both ordinary and non-ordinary people with equal regard, Yang Haoran had amassed vast quantities of Faith Power over the years.
Today, Great Night was as bustling as ever, with ordinary people continuously being transported to designated zones on Half-Moon Island. These newly arrived refugees were almost universally clad in rags and visibly emaciated, a clear testament to the immense suffering they had endured because of the war. Some appeared utterly bewildered, while others radiated hope for a new life. Meanwhile, the staff from the relevant departments were bustling about, each diligently performing their duties.
Inside the Night God Palace, Yang Haoran smoked a cigarette, observing it all through a projection. Uncharacteristically, there was no smile on his face; instead, his brow was slightly furrowed, and his expression was grim.
"Emperor, what's wrong? Have you discovered something amiss?"
Old Master Wu, seeing the unusual expression on Yang Haoran's face, immediately wondered if there was an issue with this particular group of refugees—something Yang Haoran had noticed but he hadn't. Thus, he posed the question.
However, Yang Haoran merely let out a soft sigh, then shook his head, offering no explanation.
While Old Master Wu understood Yang Haoran's disposition, he was certainly no worm in his stomach, incapable of divining his thoughts at all times. So, with Yang Haoran remaining silent, he couldn't fathom why the Emperor looked so solemn, even sighing.
Yang Haoran's simple head shake conveyed his reluctance to speak. In such circumstances, Old Master Wu dared not press further, able only to hazard guesses in his mind. He then scrutinized the refugees in the projection with renewed intensity, seemingly hoping to discern something amiss from them, to confirm if he had overlooked anything.
"No need to look," Yang Haoran said. "The problem isn't with these refugees."
Yang Haoran chuckled faintly. He quickly composed himself, returning to his usual demeanor. Yet, his words only deepened Old Master Wu's confusion. If the problem wasn't with these refugees, then why had Yang Haoran's expression suddenly changed so abruptly?
Though his heart was brimming with questions, Old Master Wu kept his doubts to himself. After Yang Haoran's words settled, he paused slightly before speaking once more.
"Since these refugees have chosen Great Night, we cannot afford to disappoint them. The aid we provide in the initial phase must be ample, without exception, whether it pertains to supplies or their safety. We must ensure they genuinely feel the warmth Great Night offers, allowing them to believe, from the depths of their hearts, that their decision to choose us was correct. We cannot let them harbor any regrets."
Yang Haoran gave his calm instructions, and Old Master Wu nodded in affirmation. Upon receiving Old Master Wu's positive reply, Yang Haoran waved his hand, dismissing the projection. Just as he was about to impart further words to Old Master Wu, he suddenly sensed something, and his expression instantly shifted.
Concurrently, Old Master Wu's expression underwent a considerable shift, for he too had sensed the same abnormality that Yang Haoran detected.
Without Yang Haoran needing to utter a command, Old Master Wu immediately spoke.
"Emperor, your subordinate will go take a look."
As Old Master Wu spoke, he waved his hand, tearing open space and creating a spatial rift suitable for teleportation.
"Something's not right," Yang Haoran said. "This spatial reaction is too intense. I'll go with you to take a look."
Yang Haoran spoke, then was the first to step into the spatial rift Old Master Wu had opened. Since Yang Haoran had declared his intent and already entered the rift, Old Master Wu naturally wouldn't attempt to stop him, and thus, promptly followed him in.
When Yang Haoran and Old Master Wu emerged from the spatial rift, they found themselves hovering above the Night God Palace. They saw the space overhead violently fluctuating, accompanied by deep, muffled rumbling sounds that were both bizarre and alarming.
The reason Yang Haoran and Old Master Wu's expressions had changed moments ago was precisely because they had sensed this spatial anomaly.
"Emperor, this. . . this doesn't look like someone is about to teleport here through a spatial rift."
Gazing at the violently fluctuating space overhead, Old Master Wu spoke with a solemn expression.
Old Master Wu was perfectly clear on what spatial fluctuations caused by teleportation typically looked like. Under normal circumstances, when transporting through a spatial rift, the duration of the spatial tremor was very brief, and its range quite limited. Even if a large contingent were to descend upon Great Night via spatial teleportation, causing a wider spatial tremor, it should still manifest regionally. This was because simultaneous mass teleportation would not involve just one spatial rift; multiple individuals would undoubtedly tear open space to create their own transportable rifts, unlike the current large-scale and singular spatial tremor they witnessed.
Furthermore, in terms of timing, if the violent spatial tremor was indeed caused by spatial teleportation, then a spatial rift should have manifested by now. After all, from the onset of such intense fluctuations until this moment, a rift would invariably have formed. Yet, the situation now was precisely the opposite: while the space above the Night God Palace fluctuated violently, not a single transportable spatial rift had materialized, not one!
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