Chapter 100 Truce
Time is endless, and it does not pause for the chaotic joys and sorrows of any life. The shortcomings of the new energy tax law erupted completely across the land of the Silver Iris Empire as the first snowflakes fell.
This winter was colder than usual, colder than anyone could imagine, but the prices of kerosene, coal, and firewood were alarmingly high, more than three times higher than in previous winters, not to mention coal, which was unaffordable even for ordinary people.
Coal prices soared, the transportation industry was frustrated, and then came the crazy rise in food prices. Gradually, the situation became worse and worse. Every morning, you could see ragged people waiting at the door of the coal shop, freezing to death. All the trees on the street, big and small, had been cut down.
At first, brave people flocked into the dangerous forest on the edge of the town, where wild beasts and monsters often roamed. The less timid ones picked up fallen branches and dead leaves at the edge of the forest. However, the local lords arrested all civilians who entered the forest, hung them up and whipped them as a warning to others - the forest was also the private property of the nobles.
Students from White Tower University took to the streets, gave public speeches, and distributed leaflets to passers-by, encouraging citizens to jointly request the Empire to convene a Blooming Conference and speak for the Third Parliament.
The priests of the Glorious Church began to open the church doors to allow the shivering victims to enter the church to keep warm - but this was just a drop in the bucket. The churches for civilians in each parish were only so big, and the daily coal quota was also limited. Soon, many vicious incidents of victims stealing from churches occurred in various places.
The Glorious Church severely condemned this blasphemous act, and civilians who dared to steal property in the church had their hands chopped off. However, many priests were horrified to find that the civilians who had always been obedient and docile like sheep were now looking at them with eyes that looked more and more like wild beasts, nearly maddened by hunger, cold, and injuries.
In Black County, the coal workers' union announced a takeover of the coal yards, vowing to move "our own coal" out of the mines and distribute the coal needed for heating evenly among the county's poor.
This led to the largest direct conflict to date between the union and the soldiers guarding the yard. More than 150 workers were killed, injured or missing in the conflict, and 43 soldiers were killed or injured.
The situation was unprecedentedly tense. Rumors circulated that a small contingent of the Royal City Army was ready to march towards Borak County at any moment. These Royal City troops were all sorcerers or warriors above the level of mid-level apostles, and a single force could easily massacre an entire town.
At this critical moment, one of the five cardinals of the Glowing Church, "Dustless Light" Pavaton Miller, entered the mining area in Black County.
"Sir, please watch your step."
Reporters and soldiers were busy running around not far away, and the few officials were closely surrounding the cardinal. Almost every face was gloomy, and it was obvious that no one had been able to sleep in recent days.
"Is this the mining village where the coal miners live?" Pavaton Miller stopped and looked carefully at this small village growing in the crevices of the snow-covered black mountains - it can't even be called a village, it's just some shacks that can barely shelter from the wind and rain, coal dust has stained the wood black, and the gaps in the leaky boards are blocked with coarse cloth - and there are actually sentry towers and fences built around these shacks that are about to collapse.
"Get lost! We have nothing to discuss with you!"
Sensing the arrival of outsiders, accompanied by a shrill and noisy ringing of bells, dark, hostile faces emerged from the shadows. There were no women or children, only strong men. They held homemade rifles tightly in their hands and stared at the outsiders with vigilance and coldness. Only when they saw the religious robes on Pawadon Miller did they show surprise.
"Please don't follow me. I want to go alone." Ignoring the officials' hesitation to speak, Bishop Miller calmly nodded to the people around him.
He stepped forward, spread his hands toward the guns that were subconsciously lowered, baring his chest. He raised his voice and said, "People of Zephyr, the God of Light and Glory, may the light continue to shine upon you. Please let down your guard and do not be afraid. I am Pavaton Miller, from the Diocese of Amarkatio. I have come here alone by the order of His Holiness Pope Mariono Sablic."
The reputation of the Glowing Church's "Dustless Light" was loud enough to cause a slight commotion among the crowd, with more and more people putting down their guns.
"Cold, hunger, and suffering enveloped our land. Countless brothers and sisters wept, curled up in agony and died without dignity. His Holiness the Pope could not sleep. He said that every time a charcoal fire burned out in the hearth of the rich, the light of life of a poor compatriot was dimmed. Those who survived were tormented by the evil whispers of the devil who took advantage of their situation. Things must not continue like this."
The handsome cardinal slammed his scepter, and suddenly a bright light burst out from his body. His voice suddenly became extremely loud, like the rumbling thunder from deep in the clouds, majestically enveloping the entire mining village.
"My compatriots, my God has seen your labor and is fully aware of the humiliation you have suffered. Now my God has sent me to listen to your humiliation and pain, and to forgive your recklessness and impulsiveness. I, Pavaton Miller, swear in the name of the Glorious Church that the workers of Black County will get what they deserve through their labor..."
He glanced seriously at everyone present, and everyone he saw lowered their heads.
"—But you must first let me in and listen to the will from the light."
After a brief commotion, a man emerged from the crowd of workers. He had sunken cheeks, a scraggly beard, a limp, a thin but unusually tall build, and eyes like a hawk.
"...Please come in, Mr. Miller, we would like to talk to you." Ged Mavro, the current chairman of the Black County Coal Union, nodded to the people around him, and the workers beside him finally made way in silence.
According to the later description of the reporters who were present, no coal dust could get close to the cardinal's body. He was a pure light that was incompatible with the polluted air and land of the mining area. The light then walked towards the dirty and chaotic village until it was swallowed up by those simple shacks.
Pavard Miller once again became famous, appearing on the front pages of major newspapers. Especially with his facilitation and guarantee, the coal union finally agreed to openly discuss the conditions for ending the strike with the local government. The dawn of peace and hope seemed to appear on the horizon.
"Coal concentrate."
In the teacher's office of Baita University, Owl was stunned for a moment. The young editor-in-chief of "Limin Daily" stared at several newspapers from different sources spread out on the table. After looking for a while, he suddenly blurted out a seemingly unrelated word.
"Pavardon Miller, or the Glorious Church behind him, wants coal concentrate." Seeing the owl's jeweled eyes trained on him, the black-haired young man coldly tapped the newspaper with his knuckles. "The royal family strictly controls the mining of coal concentrate. The auction is just a cover for trying to get a high price. The queen would rather sell the mining rights to a large company than let the nobility and the Church get involved. This is because this energy source is the only natural mineral that can potentially replace warlocks."
He sneered with a hint of sarcasm, "As everyone knows, with the gods' slumber, the birth of sorcerers has become increasingly difficult, and high-level sorcerers and warriors are even rarer. In the past twenty years, no new saints have been born. Once the powerful old ones die, the Glorious Church, unable to teach the new generation and lacking the protection of the powerful, will inevitably become weaker. So they have to consider their future."
A powerful old man who was ready to die: "..."
Don’t be angry, don’t be angry!
The powerful "new generation" was peeling an apple, his fingers were long, white, and the joints were distinct. The apple skin fell off from his knife in silky strips, which looked quite pleasing to the eye. Then the man used the tip of the knife to cut off a small piece of apple that was just right for eating, and stuffed it into the mouth of the black-haired young man very naturally. The other person bit it without even looking up. Neither of them seemed to notice anything was wrong, which made Owl's teeth ache.
"What are you going to do? Do you need me to do anything?" Azuka asked softly.
The professor was pulling out some sheets of letter paper. "I need to write a few letters. Please help me send them to the post office in town. Don't touch that. It's very troublesome to re-weight it."
He suddenly raised his head and stared sternly at the owl, which was about to touch a particularly sophisticated brass scale placed in a glass case.
The other party withdrew his hand in dismay, snorting grudgingly, "Stingy guy, you act like you've seen this before—by the way, why does your scale feel different from the ones on the market?"
"I have improved it myself." The black-haired young man stared at him expressionlessly: "So what do you want?"
Owl said unhappily, "Last month's financial statistics are out. Don't you want to know how many copies of Limin Bao sold and how much money they made?"
"I know what I'm doing. There's no need to occupy my precious brain with such boring numbers." Seeing that everyone had finally moved away from his treasure, Nova lowered his head in disinterest. "Increasing the society's income was my promise, and it seems I've exceeded it. Now, providing financial support for the newspaper is the society's responsibility. You only need to provide me with the gold coins I need on time. Ask Azuka for the rest; he's in charge of the finances."
"Just give me back the money. Are you two bandits?" Owl couldn't help but feel a pain in his teeth when he thought of the amount the other party applied for. It was really an exorbitant amount, but each amount had a clear and sufficient purpose of expenditure, so he couldn't refuse it.
"If you don't have anything important to do, please leave my office. I don't have time to argue with you right now." The bandit leader, who was furiously writing, took the time to roll his eyes at him and said protectively, "By the way, it's my teaching assistant who funds your valuable employees and indirectly supports the society's cause. Otherwise, what do you really think a theology professor at Baita University could accomplish with that pitiful salary?"
A certain savior is almost becoming a master of unspeakable mysterious magic arrays, famous in the black market for his high productivity, efficiency and high quality.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
