Chapter 295 Battle Report
The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and newspaper boys, with their uniquely sharp and high-pitched cries of children, occupied the streets and alleys of the royal city.
"A great victory at Sunset City! The Yankees have finally made it back to Icefang Pass!"
"Latest battle report! A conflict broke out on the border of Barando City! We have captured fifteen enemy soldiers!"
The newsboy weaved through the crowd like a nimble monkey, desperately waving his newspaper, still wet with ink. This was the royal city after all, and there were many wealthy people who could afford newspapers, unlike other places where most of the poor people were "freeloading" on the newspapers.
"Excuse me, are there any reports about the battle in Brafar?" A woman with her hair wrapped in a tattered headscarf squeezed to the front of the crowd. She grasped the newsboy's arm with trembling, calloused fingers and pleaded urgently, "God of Light, please take a look. My husband is serving in Brafar, north of the Frostwhisper Mountains..."
"Ma'am, if everyone is like you, I will starve." The newsboy shook her hand away impatiently, but his expression softened a little when he saw the baby sleeping soundly tied tightly with straps behind her back.
"...Okay, just this once." He pouted and roughly flipped the newspaper in his hand. "There's no battle report from Brafar."
The woman's eyes were dull as she murmured in despair, "Th-that other places near Brafar..."
"Don't ask, ma'am. The north was completely occupied by the Yankees a month ago," said a well-dressed gentleman who was also reading a newspaper sarcastically. "To be precise, it's now 'officially recognized' that it's Yankee territory, and all we can get from the newspapers is news of 'great victory' - may the gods bless Silver Iris."
Seeing the woman's pale face and staggering, the gentleman shook his head as if with pity, turned to look at the newsboy, and said in a low voice: "Hey, boy, give me another copy of... Dawn."
The newsboy looked him up and down, then glanced furtively around him. Then, in a similarly low voice, he said, "It's now called the Red Star, sir—five coppers in total. Thank you for your patronage."
"Damn, why did the price go up again?" The gentleman stared at the newsboy's dark and cunning little face suspiciously.
"I heard it only costs one copper coin in the western part of the empire, sir, but it's this price in the royal city." The newsboy shrugged. "We can't help it. If the sheriff finds us selling 'enemy news', we'll probably be caught, beaten up, and thrown out of the city."
"Okay, okay, for Mr. Nova's sake..." The gentleman muttered, paid the money reluctantly, and then quickly stuffed a stack of newspapers into his coat under the cover of his clothes.
The newsboy had already cleverly left his spot and continued to weave through the crowd, shouting, "Great victory! The Fellowes army has retreated thirty kilometers!"
A remarkably unassuming carriage was parked near the corner. A servant asked a newsboy for a stack of newspapers. A knight in a silver helmet opened the carriage door, glanced cautiously around, and after confirming there were no signs of spells or curses on the newspapers, he respectfully handed them to the woman in the carriage.
Esmerel, the current Queen of the Silver Iris Empire, was sitting in the carriage. This little impulse didn't affect her itinerary much, so she didn't need to say anything. The carriage moved silently again, and the Queen's golden eyes, like the pupils of an animal, swayed in the shadows like two dim candles.
Those ink-stained and ferocious "great victories" were thrown one by one into the corner of the carriage by the carriage owner. Only the "Red Star" was slowly unfolded and spread out. The undried ink left a few stains on the silk gloves embroidered with gold thread.
"An Eyewitness Account of the Icefang Pass Rout: The Death of Lunsbey"
"Warlocks with Imprisoned Talents"
"Why do soldiers on the front lines still not have winter clothes?"
"Another region of the Batalha Plateau has jointly issued a declaration of uprising by workers and peasants"
"The Land Freedom Guerrillas successfully blew up three Imperial military trains and rescued fifty serfs."
“…”
The queen paused for a moment. Suddenly, there was a commotion outside the carriage. She looked out and saw two sheriffs, shouting and brandishing their clubs, chasing a newsboy. The newsboy was incredibly thin and agile. Amid the shouts and screams, he scurried away like a fish, disappearing in a few seconds. Only the two sheriffs, with their bulging bellies, stood breathless in the crowd, looking around in confusion.
"... Ridiculous." She murmured to herself, not knowing who she was targeting.
"Your Majesty?" The silver-helmeted knight beside her looked at her in confusion. Esmerel glanced at him until he became stiff and lowered his eyes, then she slowly looked away.
If her loyal Yialos were here, he would have understood her intentions long ago. However, he was staying in Port Morris, being manipulated by the young Chosen One. Perhaps the Knight Commander himself was unaware, but from the secret letters he passed on to her, Esmerel sensed that her knight's faith was gradually wavering.
"Deal with these loopholes," Esmerel said coldly. "What are the Public Security Bureau and the Inspection Bureau for? If even the Royal City has been thoroughly infiltrated by the People's Party, we might as well just invite Ghost to visit Yuanxin Palace."
Her voice was low, but the atmosphere in the carriage suddenly grew chilly and oppressive. The attendant beside him was trembling and ready to kneel on the ground. The silver-helmeted knight hesitated for a moment, then mustered up the courage to whisper, "Don't be angry. These are just some low-brow tabloids filled with slander and lies..."
"But the people believe them." The Queen whipped her head around, staring expressionlessly at the Silver Helmet's uneasy face. Her voice was soft and hoarse, each word carrying a terrifying pressure. "As long as someone believes in these things, they will naturally lead those around them to yearn for the ridiculous future promised by those rebels... Then they will become increasingly demanding, wondering if they can do something about it—and at that point, the ghost will truly lurk in their minds."
Seeing the fear on the silver-helmeted knight's face, the queen rubbed her brow, leaning back wearily against the carriage seat, and closed her eyes to rest. With foreign enemies at hand, the nobles were greedy and cowardly, only thinking of how to exploit the opportunity to suppress their political opponents and reap their own benefits. The Vatican was busy fighting the academy and eliminating dissidents. And then there was the People's Party, a group of extremely dangerous revolutionaries... She hadn't slept for nearly three days, and the battles ahead were all tough.
"It's clear that the Pope is preparing to launch a holy inquisition?" she asked coldly.
"Yes," the Silver Helmet Knight said quickly, "According to the intelligence, it will probably be in the next few days, no later than the day after tomorrow."
"That old man, Mariono Sablic, has overreached. Find a reason to reprimand them, but don't go too far." The queen tapped her arm for a moment. "I remember that Cardinal Valerian still has some 'evidence' in our hands?"
This time the Knight of the Silver Helmet cleverly pretended not to hear the Queen address the Pope by name, but quickly murmured his response.
"...There's one more thing." As the queen was about to get off the carriage, she suddenly spoke: "Send a message to Jophiel Yialos, tell him that it's time for him to do what he should do."
The Silver Helmet Knight bowed his head respectfully: "Yes."
…
With the Pope signing the Edict of Purification, the Holy Inquisition officially began. The Vatican began to openly announce the arrest of blasphemers who supported the doctrine of "God is man".
In this traditionally conservative diocese, where the Vatican holds strong influence, a white terror, unseen for a century, has once again enveloped the land. People quickly learned to keep silent, turning a blind eye to the sudden disappearance of their neighbors. Street bulletin boards were filled with wanted posters, many of which featured the "ghost's" portrait. Remarkably, over six months later, the reward for his head has tripled.
But in some more liberal and open-minded regions, particularly in the western part of the empire where the People's Democratic Party was more powerful, the situation was quite different. Radicals organized marches and publicly burned portraits of the Pope and cardinals. Scholars who had fled to areas controlled by the People's Democratic Party jointly issued a letter of protest to the Vatican. Among them were ordinary scholars as well as a group of mysterious sorcerers. Students from the St. Bartholomew's School of Sorcerers were surprised to see many familiar faces, those of their teachers.
The effect of the Holy Inquisition was not as good as the Vatican had imagined. Perhaps because it involved the issue of sorcerer cultivation, public opinion was not quickly suppressed, and the voices of opposition became increasingly stronger.
Some sorcerers began to openly question the practice theories taught by the Holy See. Even a few true non-believers bravely stood up, using themselves as examples, and frankly declared that even if they had no faith, they could still become sorcerers by resonating with the ideas on their own.
Of course, without exception, all these people chose to seek refuge in the "safe zone", which is where the People's Democratic Party is located.
"This is sheer treason!" Cardinal Viterbo, who has always strongly supported the "Holy Inquisition," was said to be trembling with anger before the Pope. "We must intensify the punishment of these demons!"
But the very next day after he said this, a very detailed document was anonymously sent to major newspapers, detailing how Viterbo had abused his power to embezzle the property of believers over the years. Even more devastating, it contained the original manuscript of a research paper on "unbelievers" that the cardinal had co-authored while a student at the St. Bartholomew's School of Magic. The paper contained a lot of content that was not so "pious" and could even be called "blasphemous."
These sensational news spread like wildfire, and although the Vatican immediately declared it a "despicable forgery," it was unable to stop the spread of the rumors. Cardinal Viterbo had to resign from his post "due to illness" and go to a remote monastery to "recuperate."
"A gift."
A piece of letter paper with the above content written on it appeared silently on Pavaton Miller's desk. The handwriting was sloppy and there was a sharp hook at the end.
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