The bard fantasized again.

Chapter 61 How Dared He? (Bonus chapter tonight, please read on)
College Office.

Ulasang's quill pen trembled incessantly.

He is writing his second masterpiece—

"Ulasang's 1001 Apologies"

As his masterpiece, "Praise" had already collected the tax on the path of "flattery" a thousand years later. Writing a second part would only ruin his reputation and cause him to lose the favor of the nobility.

To solidify his position as dean, he needs to start from a completely new track.

Even noble gentlemen need to vent their frustrations, and how to make them "curse with satisfaction and pleasure" has become a current issue.

Once he had an inspiration, Ulasang felt that he had entered a state of extreme energy, which made his desire to express himself pour out like a flood.

"Boom boom boom——"

But a series of urgent knocks on the door instantly interrupted his train of thought.

He was so angry he was jumping up and down, his wig even tilting to one side.

"Who's bothering me!?"

"Mentor, mentor!"

Outside the door, Goya's anxious calls could be heard.

"I have something very important to report to you!"

"I'm currently focused on my creative work; we can talk about it tomorrow!"

"It's about the Forgotten Stone!"

"He updated again!?"

Ulasang frowned, took a breath, and sat back down.
"come in."

In comparison, forgetting the stone tablet is more important.

Goya burst into the room, forgetting to close the door, and slammed the few pages of manuscript she was holding onto Ulasang's front:
"Professor, please take a look at this..."

As Ulasang took it, he asked:

"Didn't I send you to visit Tang Qi today? How is that child doing now?"

"He didn't go home."

Goya had clearly run all the way here and was still out of breath.

"but--"

Before she could finish speaking, Ulasang hurriedly interrupted her:
"Still didn't understand? This child is very dull, not very good, and will never understand what others are saying."

We can only hope that he didn't die in some unknown corner.

Come, let me see what's been newly recorded on the stone tablet..."

He only felt regret about Tang Qi's situation, but he had no intention of taking the blame upon himself.

But the more I looked, the more unnatural his expression became:

The renowned bard Ulasang devoted an entire chapter in his work, "One Thousand and One Praises," to a detailed explanation of "how to conduct oneself in the presence of noblemen."

What? You're asking me what makes this bald, half-man famous?

Well, if even the headmaster of 'Bard's Song' is so obscure, I think the bard profession probably has no future.

"Who's bald?!"

Ulasang angrily straightened his wig.
"His knowledge of the Poets' Academy is so thorough; he must be a graduate."

"Investigate! We must investigate thoroughly and drag out this black sheep of the poets' world, lest we lose the sponsorship from the bigwigs in the future!"

"Please continue reading!"

"What's the hurry?"

But that's not important; at least the methodology he mentioned in the book is indeed effective.

When facing nobles, you must learn to show weakness.

'You should demonstrate your abilities to the nobles and prove your worth, but be careful not to overdo it.'

'What noble gentlemen need most is dignity. If you do everything for them, where will their face be?'
'You must learn to show weakness and give the nobles room to maneuver. For example, you can deliberately include a few typos in a manuscript and then ask the nobles to correct them…'

The same applies to this gladiatorial contest—

You can't win, but you have to lose gracefully.

Since it was based on his own famous work, although Ulasang didn't like the content or style of this blog post, he couldn't help but feel happy:

"She's quite bright and knows how to apply what she's learned. If all the students in the college were like this, there would be no shortage of sponsorship fees..."

It's a pity that such a promising talent went astray!

But as it turns out, you can't expect a divided tribe to keep its promises.

Of course, I anticipated that the old goblin might suddenly launch an attack.

But what else could I do? Kill her in front of hundreds of her people?

I've done everything within my power, and if things still don't go as planned, then I can only accept the outcome. So, the moment I saw the 'Magic Explosion,' I truly resigned myself to my fate.

Until the black snake stood in front of me.

"..."

How should I describe our relationship?
Fellow inmate, teammate, or friend?
We're not that close; we've only known each other for three days.

He saved me only because 'seeing through illusions' was very important to him.

But we've argued and quarreled.

We've argued, and we've cooperated...

So I understand perfectly well what it was like when I was stopping his bleeding, when I was carrying him on my back, even with my feet blistered, I wanted to take him back to Catherine.

I never thought, 'He saved me, so I should save him.'

Instead, it was 'I want him to live'.

Even if he condones the jackals and uses force to coerce everyone in Xingmei Town.

Even if he can't be called a good person.

I still want him to live.

However, I failed.

"Alas... if wishes could be fulfilled, how could the Poet Academy have fallen into such a state?"

Only at times like these does the writing in the diary appear so sincere.

Even Ulasang couldn't help but put aside his opinions about the author and immediately began to sigh with emotion.

So I promised him and swore to take Catherine away from the orcs' iron hooves and get her safely to Dragongold City.

That's not difficult, as long as she agrees to abandon Ambi and elope back to Longjin City with Merard—

But she was a conscious girl and never thought of abandoning her family.

And I, too, am unwilling to leave so easily.

So I came up with a plan.

A plan that could lead three hundred civilians to flee the entire town.

"This is impossible!"

Through the author's diary, Ulasang also saw the biggest obstacle in the entire incident.
How could their lord possibly agree?

He would never dare to claim that he knew anything about orcs or Starplum Town.

But he would certainly dare to say that he understands the aristocracy.

When the situation is unclear, few nobles would be willing to 'cut off the gecko's tail'.

Moreover, how could commoners, who have been oppressed for so long, dare to disobey the orders of the nobles?
Therefore, I need to shatter their servility.

Let them realize that no one cares about their lives except themselves.

"Does he intend to?!"

As I gradually dismantled their defenses and sang that tavern ballad...

I know I've succeeded.

But this is far from enough.

Everything done before was just adding fuel to the raging fire, but the flames could not burn away the iron chains of 'oppression'.

The most important, and final, step to escape from here—

Or murder.

Kill the shrewd nobleman's proxy, coerce the real but incompetent nobleman, and order his servants to drop their weapons...

So I hooked the steward's neck with my curved knife.

If I didn't need that little white pig's construct, I would have killed him without hesitation.

This will make these ordinary people truly understand that the lives of those important figures in their eyes are actually just as worthless as their own.

"How is this possible?! How could he, how dare he do this—"

Ulasang was so frightened that she fell to the ground, not even having time to pick up her fallen wig.
"Geya, quickly close the door, close it!"
We absolutely cannot let anyone know that this document was leaked from our college!

Goya quickly closed the door and gently comforted her:
“You need not worry, that is, after all, Dragon Gold City. I have heard that the nobles of the Lord Alliance do not have as much power as those in our empire.”

"But nobility itself represents a class, a status, a type of people! From this point of view alone, they are not fundamentally different!"

Ulasang felt his heart pounding wildly.
"A poet who graduated from our academy led the common people in rebellion against a nobleman on the other side of the continent!"
Do you understand how much impact this would have on our college if it got out?

Goya opened her mouth, looking at him with a strange expression.

After a long silence, she suddenly said:
"Perhaps he is more than just a poet in our college..."

(End of this chapter)