Fangzhou Xier, starting with failing the art exam

This is the center of power in Letania, the residence of the twin queens.

Helemat Hildergard, known as the Black Queen, stood by the window, her sharply tailored black military uniform making her appear like a drawn sword.

There was no expression on her face.

Not far behind her, on a sofa, sat her twin sister, the White Queen Lizalot Ivignad.

She wore a pure white dress, her posture elegant, holding a cup of black tea in her hand, the rising steam blurring her expression.

“A joke,” Herlinmat finally said.

"A trial turned into a farce involving 100 million cases of 61 cases of 29 cases of arson."

"The dogs kept by the Electors not only failed to kill the rat, but instead turned it into a hero of all Letania. This is their answer sheet!"

“Calm down, Helena,” Liselot said gently, setting down her teacup.

"Getting angry solves nothing, and isn't this an interesting outcome?"

“Interesting?” Herlinmat turned around abruptly, her crimson eyes burning with rage.

"A commoner openly questioned the Three Emperors' Contract and our rule in court!"

"And our judge only sentenced him to three months in prison! This is a provocation! A blatant disregard for authority!"

"He must die! Immediately, right now!"

“Kill him, and then what? Make him a complete martyr as he wished?” Liselotte looked up calmly at her enraged sister.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Herlinmat walked up to her, looking down at her intently. "Watch him swagger out of prison three months from now, becoming a god to all rebels?"

Liselotte picked up her teacup and took a small sip: "As long as you're alive, you have weaknesses and desires, and you can be exploited and controlled."

“Control? Exploitation?” Herlinmat asked as if she had heard something unbelievable.

"Are you crazy, Liselotte? You want to use someone who openly opposes us?"

"Is he against us?" Liselot put down her teacup, a playful smile on her face.

Herlinmat was stunned.

"He accused the nobles, the factory owners, and the local officials."

Liselotte tapped her fingers lightly on the table. "He's clever, Herlinmat. He knows who the real enemies are, and he also knows who might be potential allies."

Helena Mat fell silent.

Although she was violent, she was not stupid.

She recalled the reports and found that Lizzielot had indeed said so.

Lacey's speech seemed more like she was speaking out for the two queens who had been sidelined.

“We were put in this position to end the era of the Witch King,” Liselotte’s voice turned low.

"But what did we get after the Witch King died? An empty throne that was constantly hampered by the Electors."

“We want to reform, but they say the time is not right; we want to take back power, but they say it goes against tradition.”

"We are like beautiful birds in a cage, for the public to admire, but unable to truly fly."

Her gaze drifted out the window, as if she could pierce through the clouds and see the prison far away in Salem.

"And now, outside the cage, there is a person who attacks the enemy we want to attack in a way that we dare not use."

"He shouted out all the things we couldn't say; he was like a sharp blade that suddenly appeared in front of us, without a master."

“You mean…” The anger in Helena’s eyes gradually subsided.

“Why can’t it be us who can grasp this knife?” Liselot stood up, walked to Helena’s side, and stood beside her, looking at the sea of ​​clouds outside the window.

"A war hero, a civilian leader, and an eloquent genius."

"If such a person can be used by us, he can do many things for us that we are not comfortable doing. He can become a sharp blade for us to stab into the hearts of those people."

“But he’s an ordinary citizen; what he wants are the rights of the people.” Herlinmat still had some doubts.

“Then give it to him,” Liselotte said casually. “Give him some bread, give him some dignity, and he will become our most loyal supporter.”

"Because only we can give him everything he wants."

At this point, Liselotte couldn't help but smile.

A long silence fell once again in the room at the top of the Twin Towers.

These two sisters, created by the old lich as "weapons against the Witch King," parted ways for the first time after ascending to the pinnacle of power in Letania.

Helene Marth represents absolute order and repression; she believes that any destabilizing factor should be eliminated.

Liselotte, the seemingly gentle Aries, displays a more ruthless and pragmatic political approach.

Finally, Helena spoke slowly: "I still think that doing this is counterproductive and may even make our situation more dangerous."

“All games of power are dangerous, my dear Helena,” Liselotte turned around, her gentle smile returning. “We have no choice, do we?”

She walked to a desk and picked up a pen.

“Pass on my orders,” she said to an attendant standing in the shadows, “keep a close eye on that prisoner named Lacey in Salem prison.”

“I need to know everything about him, his likes and dislikes, his weaknesses, and his every word and action in prison.”

“In addition…” she paused, her pen gliding across the paper, “and in my name, send a letter of condolence to His Excellency Alistair, the presiding judge in Salem.”

“Tell him that his judgment… was very wise, and I admire it.”

……

Holy Leitanian Empire: Chapter Sixteen: Enlightenment at Dragon Field

Salem No. 3 Prison.

The jailers have been walking with a brisk pace lately.

It wasn't because they had received a pay raise, but because the person they were in charge of guarding was Lacey, the most notorious criminal in all of Letania and the leader of the Workers' Party.

“Mr. Lacey, your Salem Echo today.”

A prison guard respectfully placed a newspaper and a steaming cup of black tea on the table beside Lacey's bed.

Lacey was sitting on a soft sofa, flipping through a book of the Laws of Letania.

Although he was nominally imprisoned, the prison provided him with a fully equipped suite.

It has a private bathroom, a comfortable bed, and even a small bookshelf filled with all kinds of books, from history to philosophy.

“Thank you, John.” Lacey looked up, smiled, and nodded.

"Of course, of course." Prison guard John was flattered, his face crinkling into a wide smile.

“Um… Mr. Lacey, my son is an admirer of yours, and he… he would like to ask if you could sign an autograph for him?”

As he spoke, he somewhat embarrassedly pulled a small notebook out of his pocket.

Lacey chuckled, took the notebook, and wrote a line on it: "For a better Letania."

Then he signed his name.

John was overjoyed, thanked him profusely, and then left with light steps.

For the past three months, Lacey has lived a "simple and unadorned" prison life.

He even suspected that if he wanted, he could get the jailers to bring in the statues of the Twin Queens to use as coat racks.

He knew very well how he had received such exceptional treatment.

It's likely that someone was trying to curry favor with him, perhaps the righteous older judge, a nobleman present, or someone higher up.

He doesn't care.

At least, this environment allowed him to relax his tense nerves and gave him enough time to review and reflect.

Initially, in Lacey's vision, armed revolution was the inevitable final option.

Historically, almost without exception, all instances of subordinates overthrowing their superiors involved armed seizure of power, commonly known as uprisings.

However, this won't work in Terra.

On the land of Terra, the power of the individual is magnified countless times.

A powerful mage and a top-tier knight can truly single-handedly hold off an entire city.

To fight against a nation's violent machinery and powerful individuals who can control natural disasters with just a few hundred sickles and axes from the slums and a group of workers who can't even read properly is like throwing an egg against a rock.

That wasn't an uprising, that was suicide.

He closed his eyes, and another path came to mind.

Make more friends and fewer enemies.

Countess Lenia is the first one we can try to win over.

She was a typical aristocratic woman; she was shrewd and ambitious, but lacked the strength and courage to stir up trouble.

And I could just become the knife in her hand, at least that's how she sees me.

But this is not enough.

At the top of Letania's power pyramid are the two queens and nine electors.

The position of elector was almost hereditary, an insurmountable barrier between commoners and those in power.

He is currently too insignificant to speak directly with the Elector.

"We need to use some of the wisdom of our ancestors," Lacey muttered to herself. "We need to form alliances, win over some, and suppress others."

It is not difficult to establish a united front with nobles, wealthy merchants, and government officials who are willing to cooperate, as long as sufficient benefits are offered.

The Workers' Party is his biggest bargaining chip.

Of course, all of this is predicated on the Workers' Party being able to truly gain a foothold.

"Education, healthcare, employment..." Lacey wrote these words in her notebook.

He wanted everyone in the Salem slums to see that the Workers' Party's promises were not empty slogans.

Rather, it is real and tangible: bread that can fill our stomachs, a roof that can shelter us from the wind and rain, and hope that we can see and touch.

He wanted to transform Salem slums into an indestructible model, a sacred place that all the poorest people in Letania would yearn for.

……

While Lacey was in seclusion, Serafina was working to transform his reputation into tangible organizational power.

The Workers' Party headquarters, formerly a dilapidated warehouse, has now been completely renovated.

The walls are covered with literacy class schedules and the latest job postings.

In the courtyard, dozens of children were loudly reciting the alphabet with a retired teacher, while their parents were working hard at a construction site not far away, building their own clinic and public canteen.

Taylor the blacksmith, a burly man who once only knew how to swing a hammer, now wears a crisp riot police uniform, stands ramrod straight, and directs his men to maintain order and resolve neighborhood disputes.

Serafina, on the other hand, was in charge of the central command.

In her office, maps were marked with different colored pins, indicating factories, mines, and aristocratic estates in Salem and the surrounding cities.

The table was piled high with letters and intelligence from all over the world.

The impact of the public trial was even greater than she had anticipated.

Lacey's name spread like wildfire throughout every corner of Letania.

Countless poor people and workers regarded him as their spokesperson, and they secretly spread Lacey's public trial testimony, spontaneously organizing small mutual aid groups.

Serafina seized this opportunity, spreading the Workers' Party's organizational model and ideology through various channels. At the same time, she began to selectively reach out to local forces that showed goodwill to the Workers' Party after the trial.

There were small factory owners struggling to survive due to the pressure from large factories, grassroots tax officials who resented the exploitation by the nobility, and some opportunistic businessmen hoping to get a share of this emerging political force.

The Workers' Party accepts all offers.

Serafina can use her Originium Arts to identify these people.

She could see through their innermost emotions, whether it was genuine cooperation or malicious exploitation, she knew it all perfectly well.

She would make a list of people with ulterior motives so that she could make arrangements for Lacey after her release from prison.

That afternoon, a young messenger delivered an unsigned letter.

The envelope was sealed with fine wax and bore only the family crest—a gray wolf howling amidst thorns.