Spellcasting Gods

Especially these past few days, this dangerous and crazy woman in front of me has taken out thousands of gold coins from her own pocket as operating funds. Could there really be a so-called God of Darkness?

It should be noted that although there are all kinds of temples and churches of all sizes on this land, no one has actually seen God. Even the miracles recorded in the books are mostly full of coincidences and chance.

The upper nobility believed in gods for two reasons: firstly, to seek peace of mind, and secondly, to use these churches, large and small, to restrain their thoughts and prevent the long-oppressed serfs and tenants from rebelling.

Putting others aside, Romand, who had committed a great many evil deeds, absolutely did not believe that there were any gods in this world, otherwise he should have been struck dead by lightning long ago.

"Hmph! With your brain, which is barely smarter than a pig's, of course you can't understand how terrifying the power of faith can be. Just imagine, if more than half of the city's lower class became members of the church, and then a few officers or nobles joined in as well, how would you, the master of this city, react?" the woman retorted with a sneer.

"You mean... to gradually corrupt the city from the bottom up, ultimately seizing power?"

Although Romand had not received much education, he was not completely stupid and immediately understood the other party's subtext.

"The right to seize power?" The woman smiled dismissively. "No, I'm not interested in power. What I want is the right to spread my faith openly and honestly, not like this sneaky way. You know, when a religion's cohesion reaches a certain level, the power it unleashes far exceeds your imagination. At that time, even a king will bow his noble head before us and beg me to place his crown on his head. Faith is something that transcends all worldly power."

"To crown the king?!" Romand's eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn't comprehend such an outrageous scene.

“That’s right! One day, I will establish a heavenly kingdom on earth, where everyone will kneel before the dark god Ruva, and even the king will not be an exception.”

As she spoke these words, a fiery light blazed in the woman's eyes, a light that could burn anything.

Undoubtedly, this ongoing project filled her spiritual void and even gave her an unparalleled sense of satisfaction.

Although it's unclear how long this enthusiasm will last, it shows no signs of waning at all.

Just as the God of Darkness was spreading silently among the common people, Kerwin finally received the intelligence from his allies and sat in his study, stroking his chin in deep thought.

Born into a rural noble family, he shared the same flaws as most nobles: he looked down on the people living at the bottom of society and didn't care what they did on a daily basis, as long as they paid their taxes on time.

It must be said that this rough-and-ready management style gives those with ulterior motives too much room to maneuver.

However, so far, the natives of this world have not realized the terrifying chain reaction that would occur if the bottom layer of their pyramid-like power structure were to collapse and rebound.

"So, that prince has taken a liking to Vilia and wants to use this rebellion to force her to relinquish her power and become a puppet for his own amusement?" Kerwin casually tossed the intelligence report into the brazier and burned it to ashes, his tone revealing undisguised sarcasm.

He really didn't know whether he should call the other person stupid, or laugh at their overestimation of their abilities.

After all, Vilia was the agent chosen by the "master," and the steel golems and monster army under his command were enough to sweep across more than 90 percent of the countries on this continent.

But now, someone is ambitious enough to take over before even contacting the "master," a forbidden zone that even he dares not touch.

“Yes, sir. If nothing unexpected happens, the rebellion will have already begun the moment this letter reaches you. What do you think, should we lend them a hand?” a trusted aide cautiously probed.

“No! Don’t! This has nothing to do with us. Besides, I wouldn’t stoop to participating in a conspiracy that’s doomed to fail.” With that, Kerwin picked up a pen and paper, quickly wrote a passionate letter, and handed it to his trusted aide. “Go, give this letter to Vilia, tell her we should put aside our prejudices and hatred and work together to teach that old man who still thinks he’s a lion a lesson.”

Chapter 1122 The Only Way for Life to Evolve

"Interesting! Kerwin actually wants to put aside past grievances and join forces with me."

When he received the letter, Vilia showed a rare look of surprise.

She couldn't believe that the tyrant who had once coveted her beauty and desired to possess her could actually assess the situation and find an opportunity to profit from the complex circumstances.

Especially after news of Kerwin's engagement to the princess spread, he now had a legitimate excuse to acquire more land.

To be precise, if anything were to happen to the elderly Emperor Harrison, the vast territory he had conquered would immediately collapse and descend into an internal power struggle.

Countless ambitious princes and princesses would use this opportunity to win over outsiders, or even collude with foreign powers, willing to betray their own country's interests in order to ascend the throne first.

As the saying goes, "a son sells his father's land without a care in the world," and they did not experience that era known as the darkness before dawn. They do not understand the humiliation their fathers endured before going mad to become the most outstanding monarch in hundreds of years.

In the eyes of these princes and princesses, their fathers were cold machines, cold-blooded animals who would do anything for power, and who had no affection for their fathers whatsoever.

Since they treat their father this way, they naturally won't have any goodwill towards the vast territory he conquered.

A very small number of people, filled with hatred, even wanted to destroy the entire country with their own hands, just so that their fathers would feel pain and despair before they died.

It must be said that Harrison was a successful monarch, but a complete failure as a father.

Appreciating the humble attitude revealed between the lines of the letter, Vilia finally couldn't help but laugh, and while laughing, she couldn't help but tease, "Since he's so sincere, let's join forces for once. But this time, I must take the lead."

"Heh, Kerwin would probably be furious if he heard that." Isolt walked in from outside at some point, his tone revealing undisguised schadenfreude.

No one likes to yell at a tyrant, especially a self-righteous tyrant.

Now, the tyrant has fallen from his high position and even has to write letters to his enemies in a slightly pleading tone; it's quite amusing to even think about.

"What do you think he'll do?" Vilia asked, looking up with interest.

“It’s simple! A skilled assassin, and a vial of poison enough to render someone unconscious. You don’t understand, Harrison’s prestige is so high that none of his sons or daughters have gained the approval of all his vassals. Furthermore, he has consciously instigated his children to fight among themselves over the years, in order to select the most capable successor. This has resulted in each of them having a large number of supporters. They either have power, money, or control of the military. Perhaps nothing serious will happen while Harrison is alive and conscious, but if he loses consciousness even slightly, a war will quickly engulf half the continent,” Isolt said with a playful expression, offering his speculation.

It is common knowledge that the fall of a political strongman will inevitably be accompanied by severe social unrest and may even trigger a large-scale war.

Especially in a feudal system where power is controlled by personal charisma and prestige, if a powerful monarch suddenly dies, his successors will almost certainly fight each other for the throne until a final victor emerges, or the country may split and perish due to the intervention of external forces.

Isolde had read many books on politics and history, so he was very clear about the weaknesses of the so-called "Lion of Oro."

Unfortunately, most people were so impressed by the powerful emperor's methods that they forgot he was just a mortal, and mortals have weaknesses, even fatal ones.

"So, Kerwin would send assassins to achieve ulterior motives through poisoning?" Vilia narrowed her eyes, seemingly plotting something.

But Isolt smiled and shook his head: "Forget it, don't waste your energy. It's impossible to find any dirt on him. A man like him, once he decides to use despicable means, will never leave any clues. Instead of working on that, you might as well take this opportunity to get in touch with his fiancée."

"Fiancée?!" Vilia clearly realized something, and a glint of light appeared in her eyes.

“Yes! As far as I know, this young and beautiful princess seems to harbor resentment about marrying an old and ugly tyrant. If we can get a series of agreements with her first, we can reap the greatest benefits from this turmoil and, incidentally, thwart Kerwin’s plans,” Isolt suggested bluntly.

"Good idea. We should think about it carefully and make that traitor's efforts go to waste."

After saying that, Vilia quickly gathered his most trusted subordinates to discuss the feasibility of the entire plan and how to trick Kerwin one last time.

……

Meanwhile, at the top of the magic tower, Zhang Cheng had already noticed the power struggle between his two war agents through the magic mirror. He couldn't help but laugh and remark, "Indeed, competition and killing are the only way for life to evolve. Look at these two pitiful creatures. Not long ago, one of them was just a nobody from the countryside, and the other was an ignorant princess who only knew how to talk about love and enjoy the flattery and sycophancy of young men. But now, they've actually become adept at playing dirty tricks, both trying to gain the upper hand in this duel."

"Master, are you sure you want to just let them run wild like this?" Allens frowned, his face showing strong dissatisfaction.

"Why not?" Zhang Cheng shrugged indifferently. "Don't you think their progress in the competition is quite obvious? Remember, never let your subordinates become too complacent, as this will breed laziness. Also, don't let them think they are unique and irreplaceable, otherwise you'll have to kill them and replace them with new ones before long. Desire can never be satisfied. What you need to do is learn to control it, use intimidation, violence, and death to restrain the growth of desire."

Allen nodded as if he understood: "So your method is to create conflict, to make two subordinates fight each other in one area, so that they can never be the only one."

“Theoretically, that’s correct, but it’s a bit complicated to do in practice. For example, you have to balance the power between the two sides so that they are not too far apart. Especially when choosing people, you must pay attention to their qualifications, otherwise the situation will quickly become unbalanced. Well, you’d better try it out yourself, and you’ll understand it in no time. Now, go out and keep an eye on that woman’s every move.”

"As you wish..."

Chapter 1123 Delaying Tactics

Tilsburg is a military stronghold located at a crucial waterway transportation hub within the kingdom.

Initially, during the period of national expansion, its main function was to defend against invasions from the water. Later, as the territory expanded, it gradually became a pure logistics transit station, and the huge dock warehouses stored a large amount of goods traded by merchants from the South China Sea to the North China Sea.

In particular, the grain, vegetables, meat, and poultry eggs transported to the capital took several hours to load onto ships each day in order to meet the consumption needs of the large number of urban residents who did not engage in agricultural production.

Therefore, if an army were to suddenly occupy this place, they could not only cut off the food supply to the kingdom's most important city, but also obtain at least six months to a year of free logistical supplies.

In addition, the castle is repaired every year, and it still maintains the strong defensive capabilities unique to military fortresses. It can hold firm even when surrounded by enemies ten times its size.

Baron Marais, the military commander who launched the rebellion, saw this and thus launched a surprise attack at night, capturing all the few remaining garrison soldiers in one fell swoop.

Looking at the mountains of food and goods piled up in the dock warehouses, ready to be shipped to the capital, he couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth slightly and said sarcastically in a mocking tone, "Without enough food, let's see how you deal with those starving commoners, dear princess."

Clearly, as a staunch supporter of the conservatives, he never acknowledged Vilia as his queen, but only that she possessed royal blood, that is, the status of a princess.

"What do you think her reaction will be when she finds out that we've taken this place?"

The court nobles stood atop the towering castle, looking down at the merchants below who were crying and shouting after their goods were confiscated, showing not a shred of sympathy.

Because most of these merchants were low-level itinerant traders who made their living by reselling cheap daily necessities, they had neither the support of powerful noble families nor any formidable forces behind them. Therefore, almost every time a war broke out, these were the first to suffer.

The luckiest might lose their goods and a large sum of money, while the unluckiest might even lose their lives.

After all, weakness is the original sin, and the weak are destined to be exploited and enslaved by the strong. No matter the era or the system, the essence will not change.

The only change was in the definition of exploitation and oppression, which became propaganda by the ruling class to eliminate the resistance consciousness of the lower classes to the greatest extent possible.

As the saying goes, a lie repeated a thousand times becomes the truth!

From birth, if you are constantly surrounded by various explicit and implicit statements promoting a theory, you will naturally accept it and even regard it as the supreme truth. Even if someone presents the facts to you, you will probably not be willing to believe it.

The influence of preconceived notions is so enormous that, since the advent of the information age, almost every country on Earth has strengthened its control over the dissemination of information.

The freedom of speech that many people believe in has never truly existed; it did not exist before, it does not exist now, and it never will.

As long as intelligent life exists with social classes, wealth disparities, inequalities in access to education, and differences in genes and intelligence, the exploitation and domination of the weak by the strong will always exist, even if material civilization develops to the point where distribution can be based on demand.

In fact, what the lower classes demand is never equality or freedom of speech, but rather an upward mobility channel to change their social class.

It doesn't need to be much; as long as this passage can accommodate 10 to 15 percent of the lower classes, then the whole society will present a positive, hopeful, and striving environment.

But if it's the other way around, when too many talented people are suppressed, it won't be long before a bottom-up rebellious sentiment forms.

When the critical point is reached, this contradiction will suddenly erupt, and the transfer of power will be completed in the most intense and bloody way.

If the existing ruling class wins, the rebels will undoubtedly face a brutal purge, which will wipe out the talented people at the bottom and leave them without enough strength to launch another rebellion in a short period of time.

But if the rebels win, they will also massacre existing vested interest groups, completely destroy the original political structure, make room for their own people, and then transform themselves into the new ruling class.

As for the slogan of launching a rebellion to win over the support of the lower classes, it is highly unlikely that it will be fulfilled.

Regardless of who ultimately wins, the weak will always be the weak, forever remaining at the bottom of the social hierarchy, exploited and oppressed.

Unless one day a very small minority of them suddenly realizes the truth and begins to think from the perspective of the strong, and learns from their way of doing things, they may not have the opportunity to change their fate.

Unfortunately, most of the natives on this planet did not have this understanding, and most merchants, after being robbed of everything, did not even dare to protest and chose to leave, accepting their bad luck.

After all, this is a country ruled by nobles!

From a young age, they were taught that nobles were born superior and were there to rule over lowly commoners like themselves. Any form of resistance was seen as a challenge to traditional power and would result in the most brutal suppression.

Over time, they became accustomed to the nobles' wanton behavior and to having to pay a toll every time they passed through a noble's territory.

However, these small merchants were not truly foolish. After secretly finding out why the army had suddenly occupied Tilsburg, they immediately set sail overnight towards the kingdom's capital, intending to quickly inform the young Queen.

Of course, this entire phase is part of Baron Marais's plan.

Watching the small merchants scramble to board their small boats and drift downstream, he immediately gave a cold laugh and ordered, "Fill all the ships we've captured with stones and sink them all forty kilometers downstream. Remember, at all costs, ensure that the warships anchored in the capital's harbor cannot pass."

“Understood! I guarantee that even if Vilia brings her steel golems, they will all be trapped in the bottomless black swamp.” Another noble officer patted his chest forcefully, a smug smile on his face.

Forty kilometers from the dock lies a vast swamp teeming with aquatic plants. Leaving aside the monsters lurking within, the black silt alone would give any invading enemy troops a hard time.

Having lost the advantage of waterways, it would be virtually impossible to bring a well-equipped army to Tilsburg.

Baron Marais's strategy was very simple: to stall until the residents of the capital could no longer endure the hunger and revolted. In that case, his political and military objectives would be achieved.