Fangzhou Xier, starting with failing the art exam

"Disappeared?" Viscount Stalenf tapped the oak tabletop with his thick fingers, each tap causing the silver ink bottle on the table to bounce.

"Can a bunch of rats with legs just disappear into thin air?"

"Go investigate! Catch them and hang them at the mine entrance, so the rest of the rats can see them!"

The butler reported nervously, "Master, we...we've checked."

"They...they all went to Viseheim."

“Vescherheim?” The Viscount squinted his eyes, which were squeezed into slits by his fat.

He certainly knew that place; Gertrude, that blond girl, had fawned over him after her father was assassinated.

"Yes, sir." The butler handed over a prepared intelligence report.

"It is said that in Viseheim now... now workers only need to work eight hours a day to earn 30% more than we do here."

"Moreover, their children can go to school for free, and if they get sick... there are free clinics."

"Bullshit!" Viscount Stalenf slammed his hand on the table, and the ink bottle finally gave way, tipping over and spreading dark blue ink across the carpet.

"Free? There's no such thing as a free lunch! That Gertrude, is she insane? She's digging her own grave!"

“No, sir.” The butler swallowed hard, his voice even lower. “The one who orchestrated all of this is not Count Gertrude, but an organization called the ‘Leytanian Workers’ Party,’ whose leader is named Lacey.”

The butler placed the gazette from Salem, which contained information about the famous trial, before the Viscount.

The more Viscount Stalenf looked, the more gloomy his face became.

Although he despised politics, he was not stupid.

He immediately understood Lacey's intention.

This is not some madman's act of kindness; it is a more sophisticated means of control, a means he cannot understand at all and is absolutely unwilling to accept.

Viseheim was like a brothel next door to him, and it was free. How could his energetic young workforce not be attracted there?

If this continues, his Finkshire will be drained dry.

"Is this a declaration of war against me?!" the Viscount roared.

"We absolutely cannot allow this situation to spread!"

He cannot directly send troops to attack Viseheim.

Gertrude is now a favorite of the Twin Queens and the Electors. With the politically correct halo of "purging the remnants of the Witch King's party," rashly starting a war would anger those important figures and be tantamount to courting death.

“Since we can’t use the army, let’s use another method.” Viscount S-Yueyi Yinqi Liuyin Saner Er Tarenfu’s face revealed a sinister smile.

"Go, find me a few clever people to infiltrate Viseheim."

"I want to see if that so-called workers' paradise is truly flawless!"

He decided to solve the problem in the way he was best at—spreading rumors, creating chaos, and letting Viseheim rot from within.

……

A few days later, strange rumors began to circulate in the streets and alleys of Viseheim.

"Have you heard? That Workers' Party is actually just the remnants of the Witch King's faction under a different name! Otherwise, where would they get so much money to do all this?"

"Yes, my neighbor's cousin said he saw this guy named Lacey meeting with some people in black robes in the middle of the night."

"And that clinic, do you dare go there? I heard they use some shady stuff that you'll have to obey them after taking it!"

These rumors have silently seeped into every corner of the city.

Initially, most people scoffed at it.

They have personally experienced the benefits of the new policy and do not believe these slanders.

But if a lie is repeated a thousand times, someone will eventually waver.

In particular, some old forces whose interests have been harmed, such as small workshop owners whose exploitative methods have been restricted by the new law, have begun to fuel the flames and spread rumors in a very convincing manner.

……

Workers' Party Viseheim branch.

"Oh!"

Taylor slammed his fist on the table, his face turning purple with rage: "These bastards! Boss, let me take a team and bring these gossipy people back!"

Serafina ignored the enraged Taylor and placed a piece of intelligence in front of Lacey, her brow furrowed slightly.

“Our people in Finkshire have reported that the Lord of Finkshire, Viscount Stalenf, has recently recruited a group of thugs and ruffians, and their destination is Viseheim.”

"These rumors were most likely spread by them."

Taylor the blacksmith was furious: "I'm going to twist his pig's head off!"

"And then?" Lacey looked up at him.

"Then let all the nobles in western Letania unite, accuse us of assassinating the lord, and use that as a pretext to send troops to wipe us out?"

Taylor was speechless and could only sit down sullenly.

“Rumors stop with the wise, but most of our people are not wise.” Lacey tapped her fingers lightly on the table.

“They have only just awakened from their numbness; we cannot expect them to distinguish truth from falsehood on their own.”

“Then what should we do?” Serafina asked.

Lacey's gaze shifted to the corner.

Arturo was holding her cello, idly poking an ant hole in the floor with the end of the bow.

She seemed to have no interest in the meeting.

“Arturo,” Lacey suddenly spoke.

"Hmm?" The Sakota girl looked up, her ethereal eyes revealing no emotion.

"Isn't your music supposed to reveal the hidden truth?"

……

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Holy Lytania Empire: Chapter Twenty-Eight: Winning Hearts and Minds is the Best Approach, Conquering Cities is the Second Best.

Arturo paused for a moment, then understood what Lacey meant.

She smiled slightly: "You want me... to perform on the street?"

Lacey nodded: "Go to the most crowded place, the city square, play your favorite tune, and don't say anything."

Serafina and Taylor both looked confused.

They didn't understand what use a street performance could be in such a tense moment.

Arturo stood up, without asking why, and simply replied, "Okay."

……

The next day, at the city square.

The Workers' Party announced that a concert will be held tonight to celebrate the new life of Viseheim, and all citizens are welcome to attend.

This news gave those spreading rumors a new target to attack.

"See! I told you they were up to something! What decent person would hold a concert at this time? They're definitely trying to use some kind of magic to control everyone!"

However, curiosity ultimately triumphed over fear.

Even at dusk, the square was still packed with a large crowd.

They were whispering to each other and discussing.

Several spies sent by Viscount Stalenf were also mixed in with the crowd.

Their orders were to lead the commotion and completely disrupt the event once the concert began.

As night fell, Arturo, dressed in a black dress, walked onto the stage alone.

After sitting down, he set up his cello, bowed to those around him, and then closed his eyes.

As the bow touched the strings and the first note rang out, the noise of the entire square seemed to be instantly cut off by an invisible hand.

It was a melody of immense sadness, yet containing a mysterious power.

The music sometimes sounded plaintive and sorrowful, and at other times it was passionate and soaring.

This is not a piece of music that can make you feel happy.

The memories of struggling through hardship, the suppressed anger, and the faint hope for the future were all stirred up by the music.

People forgot to talk, forgot the rumors around them.

An old woman with a face full of wrinkles was already in tears without realizing it.

A resolute man bit his lip hard, his eyes red-rimmed.

One of the spies mingling in the crowd was named Troy.

He's a complete scoundrel, doing things for money without any moral compass.

He was about to shout at the top of his lungs as planned, but the sound of the piano entered his ears and made him tremble.

He remembered his sister, whose leg was broken for stealing a piece of bread.

He recalled the shameful way he had bowed and scraped for a few silver coins.

A strong sense of shame and disgust welled up from the bottom of my heart.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word. He just covered his face and squatted down.

His companions were in even worse shape; some even began to vomit.

Arturo's performance, at Lacey's behest, did not incorporate any Originium Arts; it simply amplified the reality that already existed in people's hearts.

It ignites a flame for those with light in their hearts; it guides them to truth for those with guilt in their hearts.

When the piece ended, Arturo rose, bowed again, and then, holding his violin, quietly left under everyone's gaze.

After a long silence in the square, someone started clapping.

Immediately, thunderous applause resounded through the night sky and lasted for a long time.

However, at that moment, an accident occurred.

"boom!"

A loud bang came from not far away, and a ball of fire shot into the sky, illuminating half of the night sky.

Those were newly built warehouses by the Workers' Party to store food and supplies!

The crowd suddenly became chaotic.

Lacey and Serafina, standing by the square, exchanged a glance, their expressions instantly darkening.

The two immediately thought of Viscount Stalenf, who was spreading rumors in Viseheim.

The warehouse contained not only food collected by the Workers' Party, but also timber and tools donated by citizens, representing their hope for building a new home.

Panic and anger drove the crowd toward the fire.

"Stop!"

A furious shout drowned out all the noise.

Lacey stood by the square, and his voice carried throughout the entire square without needing an amplifier.

Panic won't solve anything! It will only cause us to lose more!

"Taylor! Immediately organize the action team and all party members to fight the fire! Evacuate the surrounding residents!"

"Yes!" Taylor roared, leading his men against the flow of people.

“Seraphina!” Lacey turned to her. “Contact Miss Gertrude and order the city guards to seal all the city gates! Not a single bird should be allowed to fly out! I want to know who started this fire!”

Serafina nodded, and her figure quickly disappeared into the night.

Lacey's gaze swept over the still-shaken crowd below the stage. He knew that if he didn't handle the situation well, everything the Workers' Party had built in Viseheim would be reduced to ashes in this fire.

“I know what everyone is thinking,” Lacey’s voice rang out again.

“Some people want to destroy everything we have now. They are afraid that we will live a good life and that we will no longer be at their beck and call like slaves!”