Chapter 1282: Chapter 1282 Migration Island

Migration Island.

The sea breeze was fierce, and the waves roared angrily.

This was an overseas island.

Surrounded by several smaller islands, like satellites orbiting the central main island.

There were many buildings on the main island.

Among them, the most eye-catching was a seven-story Western-style building.

Seven stories.

In the cities, it was insignificant.

Skyscrapers often reached hundreds of floors, almost as if they could pluck the stars from the sky.

The seven-story Western-style building, only about twenty meters tall, seemed unworthy of a name.

But on Migration Island, it was already the tallest building.

Besides this Western-style building, the other buildings on the island were uniformly single-story.

The entire military readiness area was very systematically arranged on the island.

Migration Island was technologically advanced and fully equipped.

It had an airport, a dock, an equipment depot, as well as radar and a fleet.

As the military center of the Willson Pavilion, Migration Island held extraordinary significance.

On those smaller islands surrounding the main island, bunkers and anti-aircraft guns had been built.

On the outermost side, there were countless torpedoes.

At this moment.

A battleship was slowly approaching Migration Island.

The flag of the Willson Pavilion flew on the battleship, and its body was also marked with the emblem.

“Master Leopold, if today’s venture fails, we will never recover.”

On the deck, three men stood.

The speaker wore a navy uniform with blue and white stripes and five purple stars on his shoulder.

“If successful, however, you Commander Fairchild, will replace Amadeus Fairbanks and become the new Pavilion Master of the Willson Pavilion,” the man in the blue shirt leaned on the railing, his body draped in a cloak.

The sea wind was strong, blowing the man’s black hair into disarray, and his cloak fluttered behind him.

“Commander Fairchild, being dearly valued by Pavilion Master Fairbanks, I assumed the role as the naval commander of Willson Pavilion, and became one of the three five-star generals in the pavilion,” Leopold Fairchild rubbed his hands in white gloves, somewhat emotionally: “Now, I am to overthrow the Pavilion Master, and I feel somewhat guilty about it.”

He said this but his face was full of anticipation.

“Pavilion Master Fairbanks stubbornly insisted, for the sake of a saint with memory loss, leading to a bloody battle with Deep Cold for nearly a year!” the displeasure was evident in the tone of the man in blue: “This year, countless brothers from our Willson Pavilion have either died or been injured, fighting on the front lines day in, day out. Even I have not had a day of rest. Was it worth it?”

He turned his head towards Leopold Fairchild: “Isn’t it the same for you, Seventh Master? Since the beginning of the war, you have been leading the navy and supplying the front lines, even engaging in fierce battles with Deep Cold on the sea! Compared to a year ago, you’ve lost weight.”

“Forget it!”

Leopold Fairchild sighed, placing his hands behind his back, looking out over the endless sea: “Once the bow is drawn, there’s no turning back! I, Leopold Fairchild, believe I can do better than Amadeus Fairbanks if I sit on that position!”

“At least, you’re not a madman.”

The man in blue closed his eyes, enjoying the sea breeze brushing against his face: “On Migration Island, already ninety percent of elders have agreed to cooperate. This matter is bound to succeed!”

“Congratulations to both of you!”

The Marshal, who had been silent thus far, spoke for the first time.

He pinched his mechanical arm on the railing, taking out binoculars to look at Migration Island, which was becoming faintly visible: “So this is where the headquarters of Willson Pavilion lies. I’ve been pursuing it for a year, using all kinds of means, yet was never able to find your headquarters. I had no idea it was hidden here.”

From the beginning of the war with Deep Cold, the Marshal had arranged for his subordinates to look for the headquarters of the Willson Pavilion, wishing to perform a decapitation strike directly!

However, the people of Willson Pavilion rarely surrendered.

Even if they occasionally captured prisoners, they didn’t harvest any valuable information.

A year had passed, and despite using all means possible, he was unable to locate the position of his old adversary.

Until now, through substantial rewards and some promises, he turned the man in blue–

Master of the Willson Pavilion combat hall, Trace Carmichael.

Trace Carmichael, due to constantly campaigning abroad with losses and wounds among his men, had begun harboring discontent.

Moreover, as Amadeus Fairbanks had often scolded him for the frontlines not making a breakthrough, Trace Carmichael gradually harbored thoughts of betrayal.

Willson Pavilion spared no expense, attacking with madness, although it caused heavy losses to Deep Cold.

But it also killed a thousand enemies and self-suffered eight hundred losses.

Many elders were filled with grievances and suggested every other day to stop the war temporarily.

This war is completely a thankless effort.

Willson Pavilion lost one-third of their assets, yet gained nothing.

Except for thousands of corpses from Deep Cold.

Such meaningless consumption ultimately led to internal strife and division.

The Marshal had just contacted Leopold Fairchild, who held a high position in Willson Pavilion, through Trace Carmichael.

This admiral was very ambitious; although he was the deputy Pavilion Master, he had long coveted the position of Pavilion Master.

After being approached by Trace Carmichael and the Marshal, Leopold Fairchild’s ambition began to swell rapidly.

This time.

He was transporting materials back to the island and saw an opportunity to become the Pavilion Master.

When the Marshal arrived near Migration Island on the Willson Pavilion warship, Invincible, he finally saw the location of his sworn enemy’s headquarters.

“The headquarters is hidden, which is a basic requirement. Similarly, I hope that after Amadeus Fairbanks steps down, the Marshal will share the location of Deep Cold headquarters, to show sincerity.”

Leopold Fairchild spoke with an expressionless face.

“This is basic.” The Marshal smiled politely, “At that time, I will invite you all to visit the Northern Border castle, but be sure to keep warm, it’s quite cold there.”

“Definitely!”

Marcelo Carmichael flicked his hair and turned to speak, “Once Commander Fairchild becomes Pavilion Master, Willson Pavilion and your Deep Cold will continue to establish good relationships, striving to create a new order in the martial world.”

“To our success?”

The Marshal waved his hand, and immediately someone brought over red wine and glasses.

“May everything go smoothly.”

Leopold Fairchild picked up a glass that had one-fifth of red wine, clinked glasses with the Marshal and Marcelo Carmichael: “Smooth sailing.”

…

“How is the front line?”

Migration Island, a seven-story Western-style building.

Amadeus Fairbanks, dressed in all white, pushed open the glass door of the Western-style building.

He quickly walked down to the first-floor lobby.

The lobby was resplendent and luxurious.

The central black oval table was already filled with people.

According to rules, it was now council time.

“My forces have repeatedly attacked the southern border of Deep Cold, but we haven’t managed to break through!”

An elder frowned, “Pavilion Master, the big war has been close to a year, our Willson Pavilion has lost many soldiers, it’s really not worth it.”

“The commander of the southern border, Black Wolf of Deep Cold, has already been killed in Gonzalez City! Even so, you still cannot break through the southern border! Give me an explanation!”

Slap!

Amadeus Fairbanks slammed the table, his face ashen: “I, one of the leaders of the martial world, can’t even take down a southern border! If we encounter the solid defenses of the northern border of Deep Cold, would you not retreat without fighting!”

“This…”

The elders lowered their heads, each with a troubled expression.

“One week! If in one week, you still cannot break through the southern border, starting from the Master, everyone will be replaced! Whoever can do it, will replace!”

Amadeus Fairbanks was very angry.

This emotion made everyone present quite uncomfortable.

“Pavilion Master, we have no grievances with Deep Cold, why do we have to spend such a huge price to fight another leader to the death?”

An elder raised his head, helplessly said, “What’s the point?”

“The Holy Master once favored me, and Deep Cold dared to attack the Holy Master, I must obliterate them!” Amadeus Fairbanks spoke fiercely.

“Pavilion Master, the naval supreme commander, Commander Fairchild, is currently thirty nautical miles away from Migration Island.”

An important department staff member, holding a file, walked quickly to Amadeus Fairbanks.