Rolans finally understood.
And he completely stopped caring.
With two Saintesses from the Central Holy Land in Atester City, if he kept siding with that bunch of insects in Parliament, that would truly be courting death.
As a politician, Rolans had to gauge the intentions of those above him. Compared to personally protecting people with whom he shared deep connections, those two Saintesses would surely rather see a clean local regime handed over to Aililan, wouldn’t they?
As for whether others lived or died?
It was enough to just save himself now.
The sudden disappearance of the two old foxes at the very top of Atester City caused undercurrents to surge everywhere.
Because everyone tried to guess the will of the powers above, whether it was Rolans or Wilma who vanished, people would only assume the two simply didn’t want to get involved anymore.
This temporary power vacuum was what first stirred those of the Dove Faction into action.
Ibisos.
As Atester’s diplomat, his reputation of late was truly unsavory. The words of the Saint of Chastity had made him the focus of criticism.
But now an opportunity had arisen. The graveyard where the Orcs’ severed limbs were gathered was just the place.
“Waaaah—”
Ibisos wailed in grief.
“It’s all my fault.”
“All of it is my fault.”
Ibisos pounded his chest in anguish and cried out, “If only I could have persuaded the Saintess, if only the Saintess had listened to me, this slaughter would never have happened.”
The slaughter of the Orcs—
It was already the most sensational event in the city.
Who knew how many citizens had come to the graveyard just to watch the spectacle!
Wherever there are people,
It’s the perfect place to put on a show.
Ibisos’s grief-stricken, tragic display made many onlookers reveal looks of sympathy.
People often pity the weak. So many Orcs had died, and seeing Ibisos in such a state, they couldn’t help but start to wonder—was what the Saintess did really right?
A Bard stepped forward; Cassandra had recently risen to fame in Atester City—not only fair-skinned and beautiful, but also remarkably talented.
But since she’d taken a hefty payment,
She had to start working for her benefactor.
Coming before the weeping Ibisos, Cassandra, herself weeping and tearful, said, “Lord Ibisos, you are truly the most compassionate and merciful person I have ever met. I am proud to have such a magistrate to lead us.”
Cassandra turned to face the people, her voice impassioned as she spoke: “I do not know what crime the Orcs have committed to deserve such slaughter.”
“Let’s step back for a moment.”
“Even if the Orcs were ninety-nine percent at fault, wouldn’t there still be one percent in the right?”
“They speak up for their own kin— isn’t that only natural?”
“What crime have the Orcs committed?”
“Everyone has the right to express their free will, so as I see it, the Orcs are not at fault!”
If the Orcs are blameless, then who, exactly, is at fault? What a difficult question!
Cassandra, her voice charged with emotion, pressed on: “And think again, of Lord Ibisos’s sincere and loyal heart. He pleaded with the Saintess for tolerance and forbearance—was that for himself? No, it was for all you innocent citizens, to spare you from the ravages of war.”
“As a Bard.”
“As a free person.”
“I must speak up for Ibisos.”
“I will turn Lord Ibisos’s grief today—his unyielding spirit and loyalty—into song.”
“I will travel from city to city, letting everyone know of Lord Ibisos’s greatness, without needing to say more.”
“……”
The bewildered people,
Seemed gradually moved by her words, bursting into warm applause.
Such are the people—gullible, swayed by rumor, blindly following the crowd, lacking in independent thought. That too, is a kind of characteristic.
Ibisos finally stood up, wiping away the tears he had squeezed from his eyes. With a look of agitation, he declared, “People of Atester City! I, Ibisos, swear here and now that I will persuade the Saintess to withdraw her command.”
“I will always believe in the Saintess’s mercy.”
“And I believe even more that she will recognize my loyalty.”
“But for the innocent Orcs who died, and to spare you all from the flames of war, I will plead with the Saintess even unto death—if only she would heed our words just once! Otherwise… I will hang myself for the Saintess to see.”
Such is a politician.
Such is a performance.
Two words: Disgusting!
First, establish yourself as the loyal servant of the nation and its people, then force the Saintess to compromise and achieve your own political aims, and finally—would the Saintess even dare kill you?
Some among the crowd even began to reflect:
[I can’t help but wonder—if we fall out with the Orcs, what will we do if they really attack one day?]
[Honestly, I’ve been thinking the same. The Saintess’s actions are truly immature.]
[The Saintess only cares for her own reputation; she doesn’t care whether we live or die.]
[Lord Ibisos, please—try persuading the Saintess again!]
[Lord Ibisos, only you truly have the people’s interests at heart. You mustn’t fall!]
[Please, stand your ground.]
[We support Lord Ibisos.]
[That’s right—just say the word, Lord Ibisos, and we’ll go plead with the Saintess alongside you.]
[Lord Ibisos is a loyal subject. One who carries firewood for the masses must not be left to freeze in the wind.]
In the crowd, two Saintesses clad in white veils had long since let cold light flash in their eyes.
The Church might not be perfect, and indeed has many shortcomings, but at least it should not be like this.
The Diligence Saintess Yegeerlinai started to walk toward the graveyard, but was stopped by another Saintess.
“Temperance Elder Sister?”
Lizberu shook her head and said, “Don’t act rashly.”
Yegeerlinai furrowed her brow, troubled. “But they’re already bullying the Chastity Maiden so much, why are you still waiting? I knew some local governments were rotten, but I didn’t think Atester City had decayed this far.”
“Diligence, have you ever considered that your impulsiveness will only drag Chastity into an even worse situation?”
Yegeerlinai drooped her head. “I… I just feel sorry for Chastity Maiden. As her elder sister, what’s wrong with standing up for her?”
Lizberu said softly, “I know you care for Chastity. My care for her is no less than yours. But please trust that Chastity can handle this herself, and in the end, don’t we still have us?”
“Even if the sky falls,”
“We’ll be there to hold it up for Chastity.”
Moreover, Lizberu was very curious as well—how would her dear Chastity Maiden face such a torrent of public opinion?
Would she crush it with thunderous force,
Or choose to compromise?
This was different from the Orcs’ insurrection—after all, this was the overwhelming will of the people!
Already, spies among the crowd had reported the events at the graveyard to Aililan.
In Frezeya Manor, Aililan found it laughable. “Mourning for Orcs? Are they trying to kill me with laughter?”
Renata stepped forward, volunteering, “Saintess, I will gather the Knights at once and move to suppress them.”
Aililan stopped her. “Suppress what? The people? Ibisos is just hoping I’ll do exactly that.”
“Then at least disperse them?”
“No need. Do they really think a bit of manipulated public opinion will let them pin me down?”
Playing public opinion games with someone from the 21st Century 2020s.
What are they thinking?