The carriage slowly made its way back to the Laval House.
Allen leaned against the window, his gaze sweeping over Arc de Triomphe Avenue in Lucien Lower City, his brow furrowing slightly.
Compared to usual, the Lower City looked somewhat different today.
The bustling street stalls, once filled with the vibrant atmosphere of daily life, were noticeably fewer.
In their place stood rows of Kingdom Guards in blue uniforms with gold embroidery, their expressions carrying a hint of arrogance.
They were driving away the unlicensed vendors with rough force, drawing many resentful yet silent glances.
A few men dressed as City Hall officials stood by the roadside, directing workers busily.
They were hanging colorful ribbons and wreaths on the worn-out walls of old buildings, even erecting temporary, ornately decorated arches at key intersections.
Most eye-catching of all were the brand-new flags fluttering in the early summer breeze.
The flags featured parallel stripes of blue, white, and orange, representing the nobles, clergy, and commoners respectively.
At the center was a gracefully shaped golden iris with smooth lines, topped by a crown symbolizing royal authority against a blue background.
This was the flag of the Lorraine Kingdom.
This sudden “clean” and even somewhat “festive” scene clashed sharply with the usual dilapidated, crowded, and smoky backdrop of the Lower City.
It gave off a deliberately staged, slightly stiff sense of grandeur.
“Butler,” Allen said thoughtfully, “are they preparing for the Count of the Borderlands’ triumphal ceremony?”
“Yes, Young Master,” came the voice of the old butler Jean Leclerc from the front.
He hadn’t been idle while waiting outside the church and had gathered quite a bit of information.
“The Count’s army will arrive in the capital on the morning after tomorrow.
By His Majesty’s order, the triumphal procession will enter through the East Gate, first passing along the section of Arc de Triomphe Avenue in the Lower City to receive the people’s cheers.
Afterward, the Count will take Miss Livia directly to the Royal Palace to pay respects to His Majesty the King.”
“They won’t go to the Upper City?” Allen caught the crucial point sharply.
“His Majesty specifically requested that the ceremony be held mainly in the Lower City.
Moreover, all nobles must attend the event in the Lower City that day,” the butler explained.
“That’s why City Hall rushed to decorate the streets, so as not to… lose face and disturb the nobles’ refined mood.”
“Tch,” Allen clicked his tongue, watching the workers struggling to carry flowers outside.
“The Kingdom’s finances are almost depleted, and they’re still wasting resources on this superficial showmanship.
This bureaucratic nonsense is truly detestable.”
He paused, his eyes sharpening.
“The King is planning a direct confrontation with the Noble Faction, isn’t he?
By deliberately bypassing the Upper City and forcing all nobles to come down, he’s clearly pushing the victorious Count of the Borderlands front and center to act as a lightning rod—to attract all the firepower.”
The butler nodded in agreement.
“Young Master, you see through it clearly.
The Count originally intended to quietly reintegrate into the capital’s noble circles upon his return.
But after this, he’s bound to become a thorn in the side of the entire noble class.
He’ll have no choice but to fully side with His Majesty, becoming a solitary and staunch royalist minister.”
Marianne, who was quietly listening, sharpened her political senses after Allen’s “leadership education.”
She immediately realized that although the Count had won a battlefield victory, he was now trapped in an even more dangerous political quagmire in the capital.
The more favor the King bestows, the wider the gulf between him and the other nobles grows.
Especially as a trusted aide of the old King, he was likely to face purges from both claimants to the throne in the future.
Is this the cruelty of power struggles?
No matter how skillful the pieces, they can never truly control their own fate.
“So… that means Livia’s situation is very dangerous?”
Although aware that Livia might be hiding huge secrets, even possibly a puppet of an evil god, years of friendship made Marianne unable to stop worrying for her close friend.
Allen felt a wave of relief upon hearing Marianne’s concern.
Yes! That’s it!
This is the proper way to open a yuri story!
Despite potentially opposing stances, they still cannot sever that pure bond of friendship!
That is true yuri love!
“Don’t worry about her,” Allen waved his hand, his tone light.
“She’s tough as nails.
The ones to worry about are others.”
Joking! She was the original female lead, the Phoenix Overlord among Phoenix Overlords! What would she have to worry about?
Rather, the sudden high-profile behavior of Louis XI was probably because he had spotted a “rare steel” like Livia arriving in the capital.
Her personal combat prowess and military talent could easily crush those nobles who had long since become mere figureheads.
Allen increasingly felt that the old King was playing a very large game.
In the original story, the King was just a background figure, and Livia’s storyline lacked such deep political color.
As expected, from the moment Allen was reborn before the game’s plot began, the future developments had diverged completely from the original.
Just then, Allen suddenly realized a terrifying problem!
“Wait! So that means the fact that our family has just escaped bankruptcy, and is even being quietly courted by the Crown Prince—won’t the Count of the Borderlands find out soon?
Then my and Livia’s engagement…” Allen’s expression instantly darkened.
“It’s nailed down, no way to back out now.”
This was bad!
The Count’s current terrible political situation meant he needed strong allies more than ever!
And the newly “rising” Laval House was undoubtedly a godsend!
Livia… was probably about to come knocking on their door immediately!
Plans must be accelerated! Allen felt an unprecedented urgency.
To survive, he had to spare no effort in plotting for the future!
Back at the Laval House, Allen’s first priority was to check on the “Dawn’s Children.”
The night before, he and the old butler had stayed up drafting a detailed training plan, centered around—militarized management!
Allen’s four core goals for militarized management were:
First, Discipline: Transforming this scattered rabble into a collective that obeys orders absolutely.
Second, Ideology: Instilling organizational values to forge absolute loyalty to the Brotherhood and its leader, replacing old gang loyalties.
Third, Skills: Teaching necessary cultural knowledge, military basics, and espionage techniques to make them useful pawns.
Fourth, Security: Cultivating secrecy habits, making them reliable eyes and ears extending the organization’s reach.
Allen didn’t create the Dawn’s Children on a whim; he had to take responsibility for their lives and futures.
More importantly, he had to awaken their initiative.
Therefore, when the butler went out, Allen handed training autonomy to them.
By democratic vote, they chose their instructors—Finn Hawk, the freckled youth named Pierre, and the one-armed knight John Camille.
In the morning, the Dawn’s Children would undergo intense physical training under their guidance.
The Laval Mansion in the Upper City was vast, comparable to a small estate—a remnant of the family’s heyday.
Thus, the mansion not only had enough dormitories to house all the Dawn’s Children, but also spacious courtyards and open areas for training.
To provide sufficient nutrition, almost all the kitchen staff of Laval House were mobilized, busily preparing ample and nutritious meals for these new members.
The girls among the Dawn’s Children were temporarily led by maids, learning manageable chores and receiving basic training.
Older or weaker members were arranged to study cultural knowledge, laying a foundation for future administrative roles.
Though unaware of the Brotherhood’s inner workings, the servants witnessed the young master’s huge changes after his rebirth and understood he was planning something major.
In feudal noble households, servants’ fortunes rose and fell with their masters.
Betraying their house only meant losing protection and ending up worse off.
Though Laval House occasionally delayed wages, overall treatment was good, and the servants’ loyalty was well secured.
Motivated by the butler and Marianne, they enthusiastically devoted themselves to Allen’s cause.
They were told these newcomers from the lower classes were future employees of Laval House.
Thus, the servants treated the Dawn’s Children as their own, warmly cooking and assisting them.
This kindness from class brothers deeply moved the long-disdained Dawn’s Children, inspiring their urgent desire to change and repay Allen and Laval House.
As a result, they completely reformed their formerly lax ways.
At dawn, under the instructors’ leadership, they began training.
The high-intensity exercise was not only to strengthen their bodies but to exhaust their energy, breaking down old individualistic habits so they had no time to wander mentally and could only passively accept and get used to orders.
Allen introduced military-style formations and commands to cultivate reflexive obedience.
Immediate, public “joint punishment” for mistakes—if one person erred, the whole class was punished—was an effective method to instill collective responsibility and mutual supervision.
Even the tidying of personal quarters adopted the classic “folding tofu block” method.
This not only cultivated meticulousness and attention to detail but also tempered the mind.
Under Allen’s advanced training plan, these Dawn’s Children were being shaped into a quasi-military force whose organization and discipline far surpassed contemporary armies.
They would serve as future seeds to firmly establish the Brotherhood’s growth.
When morning training ended, Allen returned just in time.
He and Marianne purposely ate with the Dawn’s Children in the dining hall to cultivate a populist image.
After the meal, Allen spontaneously gave an inspiring speech that received enthusiastic responses.
At that moment, Allen suddenly realized: how could a revolutionary team lack a stirring battle song to unite hearts and boost morale?
He decided to take time to adapt or create some songs as the Dawn’s Children’s anthem and internal signal.
History offered plenty of choices: the Internationale, La Marseillaise, Song of the Camagnola, even the People’s Song—all perfectly aligned with the Dawn’s Children’s ideals.
The long cycle of death, though painful, had left Allen with an invaluable legacy.
His oratory, acting, and various skills had long surpassed those of ordinary modern people.
In countless interludes between reincarnations, he had voraciously learned all kinds of knowledge.
Dead again? No problem—the experience carried over to the next life!
After countless accumulations, Allen was almost a polymath.
His skills in lyric writing, composing, painting, and drafting had all been maxed out.
The printing press blueprint was just one of the outcomes he casually drew based on known principles.
Allen had never truly given up or slacked off; all efforts were paying off now.
The Creator had closed one door but opened countless windows for him.
Through persistent cultivation, Allen had long since risen from the Innate Mixed-Fish Realm to become a Half-Step Grand Villain!
PS: The Lorraine Kingdom’s flag looks roughly like this.
