In the bustling heart of the Imperial Capital Square, under the eyes of the masses, the crowd was on the verge of rioting.
Most were young, filled with righteous indignation and burning passion, their venomous curses occasionally piercing the air.
Amidst the clamor, a resounding petition from the masses echoed.
Their curses targeted the idle emperor, secluded in his deep palace.
Though, just a year ago, those same curses were hurled at Emilia.
Time changes, yet history repeats with striking similarity.
Back then, the spirited Emperor Gerald, backed by the Church and nobles, stood in this very square, hand in hand, making grand promises—empty ones.
He pledged to increase magical academy admissions for commoners, expand slots for the divine selection test, elevate the status of commoners to equal that of nobles, and offer all sorts of benefits and privileges.
His words were dazzling, painting vivid dreams of a brighter future for many.
The only obstacle was Saintess Emilia, whose reputation had been thoroughly tarnished by the nobles and the Church in private.
A ** woman, a murderer—her name was dragged through the mud.
Yet Emilia herself cared little for reputation, dismissing it as a trivial matter.
She had neither the time nor energy to bother with it, as the empire was in ruins, everything in desperate need of rebuilding.
Every aspect of the empire was in shambles—bloated, corrupt, and riddled with inefficiency.
Yet this decaying empire had stood for a millennium on this continent, unshaken while neighboring nations rose and fell countless times.
Was it luck, or…?
To Emilia, dealing with these petty schemes was a waste of time and effort with little gain.
Instead, she focused on tangible actions for the people—boosting the economy, building infrastructure, and proving herself through deeds.
Anyone can make grand promises, but Emilia was pragmatic, taking steady steps forward.
She knew nothing could be achieved overnight, and rushing risked collapse.
She refused to make empty promises, unlike the nobles and Church, whose so-called benefits she would eventually deliver, given time.
But alas, while she kept the people in her heart, they cast her into the gutter, trampling her underfoot and banishing her far away, never to return.
The irony was bitter.
Their sole demand now was for Emilia’s return.
Without her, life was unbearable.
Their cries soared to the heavens, conveniently forgetting they were among those who drove her out.
They realized that after losing Emilia, life hadn’t improved.
The promised benefits were empty checks.
Taxes kept rising, living costs soared, and prices skyrocketed like a rocket—a loaf of bread cost fifty thousand marks, no, one silver coin.
Even the preferential policies from Emilia’s era were being repealed—policies they themselves had petitioned to abolish, swayed by the nobles and Church.
They saw only the downsides, believing those restrictions were shackles, not realizing they were a protective cage.
It was as if they’d opened the cage themselves and fed themselves to the nobles.
In just a year, they were tormented beyond endurance.
Having tasted dignity, who would willingly return to being dogs?
The regret was palpable.
In taverns, restaurants, and inns, people sighed in passing, “If only Lady Emilia were still here.”
If it were her…
Now, a great famine swept the empire, sparing not even the capital.
Starvation fueled the growing rift between the people and the emperor.
Why did no one condemn the nobles or the Church, the true culprits and greatest beneficiaries?
The nobles always positioned themselves as mere bystanders, with Emperor Gerald as the figurehead and leader.
As the saying goes, the tallest tree catches the wind—especially after his prominence a year ago.
Naturally, he became the target of the people’s discontent and rage.
Once so beloved, he was now equally despised.
“Dog emperor, step down! Dog emperor, do you think you’re worthy of us? Refund us! Only Lady Emilia truly cared for us.”
“Step down! Step down! We want to see the emperor! I’ve shed blood for the empire, I’ve earned merits for it—give us an explanation! What use is a woman stepping forward?”
“We only want Lady Emilia back.”
…
“To all who are petitioning, we understand. Emilia has not yet returned to the empire, but please, do not panic. We’ve sent people to find her, and we believe it won’t be long before we deliver a satisfactory outcome.”
On the elevated platform in the square, a well-dressed woman with black hair struggled to maintain order, preventing the situation from worsening.
Using magic to amplify her voice, she tried to quell the unrest.
The effect was mediocre at best.
The people’s pent-up anger wasn’t so easily soothed by a few words.
From the high buildings, nobles sipped wine, sang songs, and smirked mockingly, looking down on the chaos as if it were a spectacle—uninvolved and carefree.
With that fool Emperor Gerald and his subordinates shielding them, the nobles lived comfortably, at least until his inevitable fall.
Those who once lived under Emilia’s protection now truly understood her exhaustion.
Caught in the middle, she was neither here nor there.
The square grew louder, teetering on the edge of a riot.
One could foresee the enraged masses storming the palace, demanding answers from Gerald, dragging him through the streets like a dog, subjecting him to the same fate as Emilia.
The black-haired woman spoke again, her magically amplified voice drowning out all others.
Whether she’d reached her breaking point or was fighting fire with fire to prevent further chaos, her tone shifted from calm to biting sarcasm.
“Enough, everyone. Don’t forget you share the blame. Do you think Gerald alone could’ve toppled Emilia? Every one of you—signing petitions, rioting, destroying… I won’t list every single thing done against Lady Emilia. Don’t make excuses, claiming you didn’t know or were deceived. You did it, and that’s that. Wrong is wrong. We’ve all failed Emilia. Without her, we’ve realized we’re nothing—and you’re no different. Squabbling, attacking, and blaming each other here solves nothing. It’s pointless. We must unite to bring Emilia back. Only then will things get better.”
The once-roaring square fell silent as her words landed.
Faces turned to one another, as if their hidden shame had been laid bare.
After all, in an avalanche, no single snowflake is innocent.
A violent uprising is always an option 🤡😉😇