Fangzhou Xier, starting with failing the art exam

Letania, the world has changed.

[Subsequently, the Twin Queens, representing the supreme leader of Letania, traveled to Lingons, the former capital of Gaul, and signed the Treaty of Lingons, also known as the Treaty of the Three Emperors, with diplomatic delegations from Victoria and Ursus.]

The contract mainly consists of two parts: one is the tripartite alliance, stipulating non-aggression; the other concerns how Gaul's property, land, and population should be divided.

[However, in this contract, Letania gained very little. Despite contributing the most and suffering the greatest losses, it received far less population and land than Victoria and Ursus, acquiring only a few insignificant small mobile cities.]

When news of the contract signing reached Letania, it sparked widespread public outrage, with hundreds of people taking to the streets of Triinttelme to protest, but the protests were ultimately suppressed.

……

That day, Lacey was helping her mother trim the flowers and plants in the yard when the town's bells rang out urgently and loudly.

This is not a clock to tell the time, nor a clock to summon citizens, but a warning bell that will only be rung when the most significant events occur.

He and his mother exchanged a glance, both seeing the unease in each other's eyes.

The father rushed out of the house, his face grave.

Soon, earth-shattering news arrived.

"His Majesty the Witch King... has fallen!" A neighbor ran up breathlessly, his face filled with shock and fear.

"With the support of the Electors, the Twin Queens declared His Majesty the Witch King a usurper atop the tower! His Majesty the Witch King... he fell from the tower and died instantly!"

"What?!" The father was struck dumb, his whole body stiffened, and the pipe in his hand fell to the ground with a "thud".

The father, who had been loudly praising the Witch King's achievements every day, was completely unable to accept the fall of his kingdom's king and began to become somewhat melancholy.

You sensed an uneasy feeling, like a storm was brewing.

Soon, with the rise of the Twin Queens, public opinion in Letania shifted at an incredible speed.

Overnight, the sorcerer king, once hailed as the "guardian of the nation" and the "end of Gaul," became a "dictatorial tyrant."

Newspapers in major cities ran front-page headlines praising the Gemini Queens' "restoration of order" in the most impassioned language, while condemning the "darkness and oppression" of the Witch King's reign.

Those poets who once praised the witch king with the most beautiful words now curse him with the most venomous language.

On the wall, the portrait of the Witch King was torn down and replaced with portraits of two young, gentle, and holy queens.

The first decree issued by the Gemini Queens after taking the throne was to purge the remnants of the Witch King's faction.

A massive purge, supported by the Twin Queens and fueled by the Electors, swept across every corner of Letania.

Soon, this frenzy turned sour; it became a speculator's carnival, and the sharpest knife to eliminate dissent.

Whether there is evidence or not is unimportant; whether it's true or not is also unimportant. As long as someone accuses you of being a remnant of the Witch King, you will have no way to defend yourself.

[If we say you are, then you are; if you aren't, then you are too.]

[Neighborly grudges, business competition, and infighting in officialdom all became motives for "exposing" others.]

Yesterday's neighbor, with whom you had a pleasant conversation, might today be labeled a "witch-king sympathizer" and dragged off for trial simply because you glanced at his wife.

The small border town where you live was also not spared.

A so-called "purification committee" was established in the town, headed by the mayor's nephew, a young man named Bach.

You remember him? A lazy, cowardly guy who used to bully the weak and bully the strong, relying on nepotism to lord it over others. Now, he's wearing a brand-new uniform and seems to have become the highest authority in the area.

The father no longer went to the tavern to talk loudly; he sat silently in his rocking chair all day, not uttering a word. He took off the war medal, wrapped it in layers of black cloth, and hid it in a secret compartment under the bed.

Your mother is constantly worried, repeatedly telling you not to go out and not to talk to anyone.

You tried to persuade your parents to leave temporarily and go to the countryside to hide, but your father refused, stubbornly saying, "We haven't broken the law, we haven't done anything wrong, why should we run away? This is our home!"

However, the truth will eventually come out. After you returned home as a war hero, your family's fate was perhaps already sealed.

Bach knows about your family, that you are a war hero who received medals for your service, and that your father makes no secret of his worship of the Witch King.

He was quite jealous of you; now, his chance has come.

[Bach gathered dozens of guards from the "Purification Committee" and stormed to your doorstep, banging on it.]

……

Holy Lytanian Empire: Chapter Four: A Single Spark Can Start a Prairie Fire

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

A heavy, rough banging sound rang out, causing dust to fall from the walls inside the room.

Outside the door, an arrogant and domineering voice rang out.

"Open the door! The Purification Committee is here to handle this!"

"Listen up, you people inside! You've been reported for harboring remnants of the Witch King's faction. Open the door immediately for inspection, or you'll be killed on sight!"

Bach's voice was sharp and smug, as if he could already see the family kneeling and begging for mercy.

The father clenched his fists tightly, and the veins on his forehead bulged with anger.

The mother's face turned deathly pale instantly. She instinctively shielded Lacey behind her, her body trembling slightly.

Lacey immediately realized what was happening and instantly entered a battlefield mindset.

He listened intently; the footsteps outside the door were chaotic and heavy, numbering at least twenty or thirty people, all dressed in armor and carrying weapons.

With his current strength, it's unrealistic to expect him to eliminate them all, but he can still buy time by engaging in prolonged combat.

Lacey immediately lowered her voice and turned to her parents, saying, "Dad, Mom, you two get out of the bedroom window. I'll hold them off."

"no!"

Unexpectedly, his usually mild-mannered father flatly refused him.

“I won’t leave,” the father shook his head.

Upon hearing your father's refusal, you immediately explained to him that you were confident you could hold off the guards and that nothing would happen to you.

The father told you that a family of three was too conspicuous; you could hide for a while, but not forever. He didn't want the family to be chased like stray dogs, living a life of constant hiding and fleeing.

As a teacher in the academy, and as a subject once ruled by His Majesty the Witch King, he only wished to die with dignity.

The mother took the father's hand, clearly indicating her agreement.

[You seem unable to understand why you repeatedly tell your father the principle: "If you save the land but lose the people, you lose both; if you save the people but lose the land, you save both."]

Your father ignored you, took the war medal from under the bed, and handed it to you.

"My son's medals should not be tarnished."

The father said he had lived enough; having such a proud son, it wouldn't matter if he died now.

He told you that no matter what, you shouldn't hate your country, you shouldn't hate Letania; it's just sick, and if there's a chance in the future, please cure it.

Your mother hugged you one last time. She hoped you could forget all this, marry a good girl, and live a peaceful and safe life.

With tears in your eyes, you agreed to her request.

Your father handed you the neatly packed belongings and then led you towards the bedroom.

You took one last look at your father's resolute back and your mother's tear-streaked face, then without hesitation, you turned and jumped out of the bedroom window.

The moment you landed, a loud crash came from behind you as the guards smashed the gate open.

[This was followed by the father's powerful roar, which resounded through the night sky.]

"Long live His Majesty the Witch King!"

"Long live Letania!"

The roar pierced the night sky, then abruptly ceased.

……

You've become a wanted criminal.

The next day, the town's bulletin board was plastered with your portrait, with the words "Lassie, a remnant of the Witch King, resisted arrest and fled after murdering members of the Purification Committee" written in large, blood-red letters. The bounty was so high that it made every idler in town green with envy.

Your parents were charged with "harboring criminals and openly supporting a tyrannical ruler." They were publicly executed, and their bodies were hung high on the gallows in the square to deter any potential threats.

You hid in the slums for three days and three nights.

After the grief comes overwhelming anger.

[You understand, simply killing Bach is meaningless; he's just a dog pushed out by the new regime. Kill him, and there will be another one.]

What you should do is cut off the hand holding the dog's leash, and let everyone see what kind of person its owner is.

[Theoretically, that's how it should be.]

But your inner torment won't allow you to think that way; Bach must die, no matter what.

……

A month later, in a border town, inside a tavern called "Black Rose".

A sallow-faced man with a scruffy beard sat in the corner, silently drinking the cheapest, lowest-quality ale.

He was dressed in rags and looked like a down-on-his-luck mercenary; no one would associate him with the "war hero" on the bounty poster.

This person is, of course, Lacey after her transformation.

For the past month, he has wandered around the town, watching how Bach and his purification committee lord it over everyone.

Bach used the pretext of liquidation to amass wealth.

Almost every merchant in the town with a bit of wealth had been extorted by him using various fabricated charges.

The townspeople, who dared not speak out against him, privately called him "Butcher Ba".

Public resentment had reached a boiling point; it was just a match away from igniting the powder keg.

Lacey knew that her job was to be the match.

His gaze swept across the tavern.

The tavern owner was a middle-aged man named Hans, who had been his father's close friend, and the two often drank and played chess together.

After his father's accident, Hans was the only one who dared to go to the square to collect his parents' remains.

This is a goal that can be achieved.

Lacey, holding a wine glass, sat down at the bar as if by accident.

"Boss, another one." He deliberately lowered his voice.

Hans looked up, his cloudy eyes scanning him up and down. He said nothing, but poured him a full glass of E?r妻榴玖尹厁QVIII sulfur wine.

"The town's been really lively lately," Lacey said slowly, taking a sip of her drink.

Hans froze, glancing at him warily: "Guest, loose lips sink ships."

"I'm just a mercenary passing through. I heard some rumors in town and was just curious." Lacey smiled, took a gold coin from her pocket, and placed it on the bar.

"I heard that Lord Bach just bought himself a brand new land vehicle last month? How extravagant!"

Hans's expression changed, but he neither replied nor touched the gold coin.

"I heard he made his fortune by 'purifying' the remnants of the Witch King's faction?" Lacey continued, her voice not loud, but clearly reaching Hans's ears.

"What a great era, isn't it? You can gain both fame and fortune just by slapping a label on someone."

"What exactly do you want to say?" Hans's voice deepened, and his hand had already quietly reached for the short stick under the counter.

Lacey ignored his little gestures and simply turned her gaze to a painting on the tavern wall.

It was a landscape painting depicting a field of lilies of the valley outside the town. The painting was poorly done, but there was a signature in the corner.

That was his father's work.

“I know someone.” Lacey’s gaze seemed to pierce through the painting and see into the past.

"He was a good man, an honest and upright music teacher. His only sin was that he deeply respected the king who had once protected Letania."

Hans's body jolted, and he loosened his grip on the short stick, staring intently at the disheveled man before him.

"He also had a son who was a soldier who had been to the battlefield, killed Gauls, and shed blood for the country."

"But in the end, their family was destroyed and killed because of such a small sin."

Lacey slowly turned his head, looking directly at Hans.

"Do you think this is fair?"

Hans's lips trembled as he thought of his old friend and the two poor souls hanging on the gallows.