Execution Day of the Consul was today.
The Central Marketplace of Bountiful City buzzed with noise, people eagerly discussing the downfall of the once all-powerful figure who had ruled the city for decades but collapsed overnight.
“Lord Green, we have made all the necessary preparations.”
Julia, overwhelmed with busyness, weaved through the crowd and quietly reported to Green, who was hidden among the people. “Besides the visible guards, I’ve also dispatched an entire squad to guard every corner.”
“Good, cough cough cough!” Green coughed again, his face flushed red.
Despite the blazing midday sun of summer, he looked as if he was battling a severe cold.
Julia’s eyes flickered with concern.
“Lord Green, perhaps I should take over your shift?”
She reached out to steady him as he wobbled slightly.
“No, it’s fine.” Green smiled warmly, looking toward the execution ground where the masked Executioner was continuously rubbing the blade in his hands. “I truly didn’t expect Lawrence to go all out this time, actually pushing that Consul onto the execution platform.”
“When I handed him the evidence I gathered, I thought he only intended to use it to negotiate with the Chancellor.”
Green clicked his tongue in amazement as he looked at the high-ranking nobles still in shock around him, as well as the ordinary citizens eagerly waiting for the spectacle.
How long had it been?
Green no longer remembered.
Since the simulation of life began, he hadn’t seen a long-standing city power finally brought to justice.
For so many years, he had faithfully abided by the law and refused to take bribes, and now, at last, he was seeing some reward.
Of course, Green knew this was only temporary.
The Consul would die, but someone else would take his place—someone who might be even worse.
After all, Archbishop Lawrence would leave sooner or later, and Green himself didn’t have much time left.
But at least, at this moment, Green could say with a clear conscience that he was a true Paladin, a brave warrior who fully followed the path of the Holy Light.
“Godfather, there you are.”
Just as Green was contentedly gazing at the prisoner cart slowly emerging over the horizon, a quiet voice greeted him from beside.
It was Alice.
Casting a glance at Julia nearby, Alice leaned onto Green’s shoulder and softly purred, “Godfather, once our mission ends, how about you come with me to the capital?”
“Archbishop Lawrence said that with all your years of merit, you can be directly promoted to Chief Instructor of the Capital Paladin Order.”
Chief Instructor?
Green smiled.
His old friend was generous indeed.
Though the title sounded prestigious, in reality, it allowed one to enjoy a comfortable position and high status without having to actually go on duty…
“All right.”
In the past, Green might have found an excuse to refuse.
After all, he played the role of a Paladin devoted to the Holy Light—how could he abandon the suffering people of Bountiful City to enjoy comfort in the capital?
But now…
Feeling his body withering away, clearly near the end of his days, and looking into Alice’s eyes full of hope, Green smiled brightly and agreed.
Let me witness your brilliant future in the last moments of my life.
“Cough cough!” Green coughed again, feeling the desiccated organs inside him about to be completely corroded by some curse.
Damn heretics…
Fortunately, Archbishop Lawrence had discovered the truth early on, allowing him to use the “Original Sin Transfer Ritual” to bear the Original Sin that Alice once carried herself.
Otherwise, Alice’s fate would have been far worse than his own reality.
Recalling the pain of countless harsh training sessions since his transmigration, yet never becoming a professional, Green was truly grateful for the chance to prevent his adopted daughter from following in his footsteps.
Rumble rumble rumble!
A commotion arose from the crowd.
“Hey, look! It’s the former Consul! Didn’t expect he’d meet this fate too?”
“Heh, haven’t you seen the latest report? Just how many heinous crimes did this guy commit? And that bastard son of his—after failing to molest a young girl, he sold her entire family to a brothel!”
“Wow… that Consul, tsk tsk. Thank the great Archbishop Lawrence.”
Inside the swaying prisoner cart, the former Consul’s vacant eyes remained silent as the jeers of onlookers poured down. Yet a strange smile curled at the corner of his lips, as if mocking those poor, angry commoners who hated him with a vengeance.
“Hmph, he’s still so arrogant on the brink of death? Hey, let’s teach him a lesson before he dies!”
Whoosh—
A few young men bent down, picking up small stones from the ground and hurled them at the cart.
Bang bang bang!
Led by them, the crowd spontaneously vented years of pent-up anger in all sorts of ways.
Splash!
Stones rained like raindrops, along with rotten eggs, old shoes, spoiled fruit, and maggot-infested meat… The citizens’ creativity was endless.
Clatter.
The guards pulled the prisoner cart aside. “Go.”
The sentries behind pushed the former Consul forcefully toward the execution ground, facing the citizens’ wrathful gazes and the bloodthirst hidden beneath.
“Heh heh.” The desperate Consul chuckled disdainfully several times.
For some reason, when he saw the enraged crowd, a faint smile appeared on his face.
“Any last words before death?”
Presiding over the execution was none other than Archbishop Lawrence himself, who sat calmly in a wooden chair, his gaze steady upon the Consul.
His expression showed no tension despite the atmosphere.
The Consul ignored the Archbishop’s question and silently walked to the Executioner, seemingly fully accepting his fate.
“Kneel.”
The Executioner kicked the Consul down hard, forcing his head low.
“In the name of the God of Light, I shall witness your death.”
Archbishop Lawrence rose slightly and approached him. “Perhaps you could confess and apologize to those you’ve hurt? Though it won’t lessen your guilt, at least before the God of Light, you might find eternal peace.”
“Nonsense.”
The Consul spat out arrogantly, then without waiting for Lawrence’s response, shouted loudly to the crowd, “Citizens of Bountiful City, hear your former Consul!”
Despite days of hunger and cold, multiple tortures by the Investigator, utterly exhausted, he still used his last ounce of strength to shout, “I know you hate me, hate me as the corrupt bureaucrat I am, but…”
“My naive citizens, do you really believe that the Church of Light, especially the Paladins, are as pure as you think?”
His voice grew hysterical, the twisted expression accentuated by his pale face.
Yet perhaps because of his former status, the crowd’s curiosity was piqued by such madness.
“Paladins… what is he trying to say? Maybe he’s gone mad before death?”
“Hard to say. He was the Consul after all. Maybe he really knows some secrets?”
“But our Bountiful City Paladins have always been led by Lord Green—the one who always smiles at us and treats us fairly.”
Among the chatter, the Consul pushed the Executioner aside, suddenly standing and shouting again, “You don’t know that Green, that great saint you all praise, behind the scenes actually raised a heretic, the daughter of a member who once caused massive destruction to the Withering Cult in Bountiful City!”
Boom—
The crowd erupted at this declaration.
“Hahaha, what a joke!”
“No way. I thought he was going to say Lord Green took bribes, but it’s just some fairy tale?”
“Exactly! Who doesn’t know Lord Green won’t tolerate heretics? This is just nonsense!”
Faced with the crowd’s ridicule, the Consul was not angered but delighted, his bloodshot eyes shining with madness.
“I know you don’t believe me, but, but I have proof!”
He shouted with all his remaining strength.
“Damn! You despicable scoundrel…” Lawrence turned red with anger, reaching out to restrain the Consul.
“Wait!”
A sharp voice rang out. Before Lawrence, a portly man dressed in luxurious robes embroidered with mithril insignias stepped forward, blocking him.
“As the Chancellor’s special envoy, I believe even a sinner as grave as this man has the right to say his full last words, don’t you agree?”
The wealthy man spoke with ill intent.
Reluctantly, Archbishop Lawrence withdrew his hand.
“Hoo hoo…” The Consul turned coldly to Lawrence, then revealed his trump card to the crowd: “My proof is… Green, your so-called great saint, has already lost the protection of the Holy Light!”
The crowd immediately fell silent.
“Pfft, pfft!”
“No way. I thought he had some earth-shattering evidence. Losing the Holy Light’s protection? Everyone knows Lord Green follows the path of the Holy Light—how could he lose its protection?”
“Hey, isn’t Lord Green standing over there? Green, summon the Holy Light and make that corrupt man shut up!”
Amid the cheering crowd, Green remained silent.
“Godfather, Godfather?” Alice’s face went pale as she gripped Green’s hand tightly, sweat pouring down.
It’s all because of me!
Tears welled up in Alice’s eyes.
My biological parents truly were heretics…
I’ve harmed Godfather—no, I can’t!
The girl suddenly opened her mouth, “Sorry everyone, it’s all, all…”
Before Alice could finish, Green immediately placed his hand over her mouth.
“For certain reasons, I have indeed lost the protection of the Holy Light.”
Facing the eyes of tens of thousands, Green said lightly, “But if any of you think I’m unqualified to serve as Paladin Captain, you may stand forth—I am willing to resign.”
Silence blanketed the scene.