Chapter 533: But Still Lost to True Arrogance

The capital of the Ryan Kingdom, Roland City.

Ever since spring arrived, the sky here had always been gray, as if it were holding back a storm that refused to fall.

Newcas dragged his drunken body back to his apartment in the central city district.

He tossed the top hat that symbolized respectability onto the coat rack, loosened the collar that was choking him, and slumped into the leather sofa.

A few days ago, the Xia Gong held another meeting. It seemed that in order to highlight the power of the citizens, Baron Wickton had expanded the 6-seat quota to 12.

However, he didn't think much of Baron Wickton's reforms.

Because the only sensible person had resigned; Professor Ferguson, who had quite a reputation in the cultural circles, had completely left the city. The ones left were either people like him who were just watching the fun, or clowns who were trying very hard to perform.

While the commoners were fighting tooth and nail for a piece of moldy black bread, these so-called citizens spent an entire afternoon arguing over whether squab should be stewed in thick soup or clear soup.

Some even cited ancient texts, trying to prove that "roast squab" was the only cooking method that conformed to the spirit of chivalry, and all other methods were blasphemy.

Newcas had to declare that this was not his topic. Although the Campbells were humorous, that humor was private; he wouldn't bring such ridiculous things into the Xia Gong.

Recalling what he had just seen, he couldn't help but feel that Professor Ferguson had still hurt this city too much.

On the surface, his departure hadn't brought any impact to the city; after all, that gentleman didn't have a single soldier under his command.

However, ever since his scolding had ceased, the moral level of the twelve councilors had almost immediately taken a huge slide.

Including his own.

Although he didn't speak, he couldn't help but laugh.

But laughing aside, Newcas still felt from the bottom of his heart that these people were probably crazy.

Even someone like him could see that Roland City had become a giant powder keg. If it weren't for the need to make money and pay off loans... he probably would have slipped away long ago.

Just as he was rubbing his throbbing temples, thinking about how to deal with the social engagements tonight, the manservant walked in lightly, holding a silver tray with an exquisite letter on it.

That envelope not only had a wax seal with dark patterns, but also emitted a rich rose fragrance, which was completely out of place with the stale smell of tobacco in the room.

"Sir, your letter."

"Put it in my drawer."

"But... this is a letter sent by Miss Marie Lambane." The manservant reminded him very subtly, implying that this letter was not written by those citizens, nor by the mud-legged commoners.

"Lambane?"

Newcas raised an eyebrow, quickly searching his memory for this surname.

Soon, a family with the title of Baron, whose estate was not far from the outskirts of Roland City, surfaced in his memory—

It was the very treasure he had been seeking but couldn't obtain!

Thinking of this, Newcas was instantly energized. The decadent air about him vanished, he sat up straight, and carefully opened the letter.

A breeze of fragrance hit his face, and then the delicate handwriting came into view.

"Respected Mr. Newcas:

Please forgive my presumption in writing to you. I have just returned to Roland City after a trip to Thunder City, and it was truly an unforgettable experience. Especially that night at the Prince Prince Kelin Grand Theater watching 'The Bell Tolls,' I was deeply moved by that heart-wrenching story..."

Councilor Newcas read the letter line by line, without the slightest impatience.

Unlike those poor people who were sparing with their words, this letter had no main point at the beginning; it was almost entirely Miss Marie Lambane's travelogue of Thunder City, as well as a summary of the story of "The Bell Tolls."

Although he had been too busy lately to return to Thunder City and hadn't seen the play, thanks to the generous Miss Lambane, he had finished the play in one minute.

Simply put, it was just a love story; there were plenty of similar things at the Roland Grand Theater, although he hadn't had time to watch those either.

Having swallowed the whole story, Newcas finally found that "but" he had been seeking behind the long opening.

Usually, this was the period at the end of the nonsense.

"... but! I still have to say, compared to the bell tolling on the stage, what moved me more was the demeanor of the Campbell gentlemen. They are not only punctual, but also refined, and very, very polite."

"I didn't know that one had to make an appointment to go to a noble's box. When the servants at the Prince Prince Kelin Grand Theater made me feel embarrassed, a Campbell councilor like you kindly invited me to watch with him in his box. And when I shed tears because of the heart-wrenching love on the stage, he thoughtfully handed me a soft, white tissue. Oh, by Saint Siss... no wonder the Campbell Duchy is the model of the land of knights."

"For a moment, I almost fell in love. His eyes seemed to hold the entire starry sea, and I could even ignore that he didn't have a noble title. Unfortunately, he told me he was already married; it was truly regrettable. I envy his wife. Why does a commoner get to have such an enviable love?"

"After returning to Roland City, I felt like I had returned to a primeval forest. This contrast made me weep. The actors at the Saint Roland Grand Theater don't know how to perform at all, and our gentlemen are even more rude. I don't want to criticize them for holding back their snot, but... one can't just blow their nose on their sleeve, right? How is that any different from a goblin?"

"I heard you are a councilor of the Third Estate; I have an immature suggestion. Could you propose a bill in the council requiring all Ryan gentlemen to carry a refined tissue or handkerchief in their pockets? This is not only a need for hygiene, but also the bottom line for maintaining our social etiquette, and the dignity of our Ryan Kingdom..."

Newcas almost laughed out loud when he saw this.

"Haha."

By Saint Siss, he had originally thought that the funniest actors in all of Ryan were sitting in His Majesty's Xia Gong, but he hadn't expected there to be another fish that slipped through the net.

In this era where one had to haggle over a piece of bread, this noble lady was actually concerned about the tissues in their pockets.

She should be thankful that the gunsmiths of Roland City couldn't make firearms that could fit into pockets, otherwise the irritable citizens would definitely stuff them into their pockets.

Sure enough, as he had expected, the knights of the land of knights were all very seriously trying to be funny.

Of course, he, the "model of the land of knights," wasn't bad either.

"Give me some letter paper and a pen," Newcas said to his manservant, handing him the letter.

"Also, help me put this letter in a frame and place it in the living room. Especially the wax seal on the envelope; it must face forward so that guests can see it without it feeling deliberate."

The manservant bowed slightly and soon brought paper and pen.

Newcas picked up the quill, pondered for a moment, and soon wrote down lines of elegant and proper copperplate script.

"Respected Miss Marie Lambane—"

"Your letter is like a breeze of spring, blowing away the dull smog of Roland City. Your suggestion is full of delicacy and compassion, making me think of our respected Princess Ailin; you have much of her elegance, and also a sense of humor she lacks. Although we have never met, I think you must be a princess no less than her; you are the most ladylike Ryan lady I have ever seen..."

Newcas paused here, a playful smile appearing at the corner of his mouth, and continued to write fluently.

"I believe you are very serious about this proposal, but please allow me to explain a small dilemma. His Majesty's subjects have been dieting lately; I fear they don't have the energy to appreciate the beauty of art."

"However, I don't think this is a loss of dignity; there are many kinds of dignity in this world. For example, Thunder City doesn't have as many magnificent churches and palaces as Roland City, nor does it have as many fire extinguishers and gardens."

"And His Majesty's subjects are the true gentlemen; they are willing to turn themselves into firewood, using their meager wallets to guard our nights."

He tactfully persuaded Miss Lambane to give up that whimsical petition; the timing was too terrible.

Although he wasn't a good person, he had to look after his own windows, lest a stone fly in while he was sleeping soundly one day.

Then he changed the subject, placing his true intent behind the "also" of that transition.

"Also, I didn't expect you to be a fan of drama. What a coincidence, the place I go to most often in Thunder City is the Prince Prince Kelin Grand Theater at my doorstep! We must have many common topics to explore."

"I heard that the Saint Roland Grand Theater has a new play on; if you don't mind, we could appreciate it together. There isn't only drama in Thunder City; I mean, we don't have to look far for what we need; perhaps beautiful things are right by our side."

Praise that Thunder City councilor he had never met! Praise the bell tolling of Mr. Prince Prince Kelin!

And those refined Thunder City citizens!

Mr. Newcas, who had never loved them for a minute, had never been so excited to be a Campbell as he was today!

After all, in the past, someone like him, no matter how much money he had, wouldn't have had the chance to connect with a lady who didn't belong to his social stratum.

But now, he might actually be able to mix in a noble title!

Doing business in Roland City nowadays was truly too difficult; even if he had backing, he had to handle every aspect perfectly.

And a noble title with enough weight could greatly increase his sense of security, and his wife's surname could become his backing.

This was much more useful than a councilor's title.

Those guys were almost becoming food critics.

Signing his name, Newcas blew on the ink and carefully sprayed a bit of his own perfume on the envelope.

Looking at the delicate handwriting, he suddenly had other inspiration in his pleasant mood.

Miss Lambane had provided him with a line of thought; instead of discussing Ryan people—no, the cooking methods of squab—in the council, he could be the friend of the ladies of the Ryan Kingdom.

Regardless, this title sounded much better than "chef."

And this could also be considered using his title, which couldn't do anything, to make a small, meager contribution to Roland City.

Newcas hummed an off-key tune, tucked the letter sprayed with perfume into the inner pocket of his coat, and picked up the cane hanging on the coat rack.

When he was writing the letter just now, the manservant at home had gone to the market to shop.

Since there was no one to run errands, he had to go to the post office himself.

However, just as he pulled open the heavy oak door of the apartment and was about to step out, two shadows like two walls blocked the doorway.

Before Newcas could see their faces clearly, two rough hands pressed against his chest, and a huge force pushed him back into the entryway.

With a "bang," the door slammed shut behind him.

The model of chivalry, who had been at ease a second before, was immediately scared to the point of almost wetting his pants, letting out a pig-like squeal.

"Don't kill me! The money is in the drawer in the study, there's probably about two hundred silver pounds, take it all!"

A hand in a leather glove covered his mouth, blocking the plea that was about to spill out.

"Quiet, Mr. Newcas, we're begging you."

The man on the left lowered his voice, took off the felt hat that was pressed low on his head, revealing a face that was weathered but had determined eyes.

"We aren't robbers, and we aren't thugs. My name is Baal, a stonemason. This is Nat, also a stonemason."

Newcas's terrified eyes darted around, confirming that the other party didn't have any intention of pulling out a knife, and then he signaled for them to let go.

He straightened his wrinkled collar, his heart still pounding wildly, but the merchant's rationality had quickly returned.

He sized up the two men in heavy old coats; their clothes still carried the cold air and a lingering smell of coal smoke, looking like foremen from any factory or teachers from a middle school.

"You... are Roland citizens?"

"Yes!"

"Then you should write to the president of the Stonemason Guild, Shalt; I remember he is your councilor, he has an obligation to reply to your letters... You found the wrong person!"

"Obligation..."

Nat sneered, as if he had heard some joke.

However, this time Newcas couldn't laugh, because this rude Ryan man was simply ruder than what Miss Lambane had written in her letter.

He swallowed, trying to negotiate.

"Listen, gentlemen, no matter what kind of grievance there is, I am just a councilor, I really can't help you with anything. But since you've found your way here, I can give you some money, at least enough to solve your immediate difficulties... I swear by Saint Siss, I will never report you to the guards."

The man who spoke first, Baal, coughed, interrupting him.

Seeing that he looked easier to communicate with than the guy named Nat, Newcas hurriedly cast a pleading look at him.

However, this Mr. Baal ultimately disappointed Newcas.

"Mr. Newcas, we know you have money, but money can't solve our problems."

Newcas groaned in pain.

By Saint Siss...

Sure enough, had this day finally arrived?

The angry souls had boiled to the point where even money couldn't bribe them; they just wanted to set a bigger fire.

Sure enough, as he had expected, this man who looked the most rational was saying things that even a demon would probably find blasphemous.

"The King treats us like livestock, the nobles treat us like air. At first it was Ryan iron sheets, now it's using bits of dirt and dregs to fool us—you know what I'm talking about, those copper coins. I tried to petition at the Xia Gong, but they almost broke my legs. Later I learned they were discussing the cooking methods of squab inside; that wasn't cooking squab, it was clearly wanting to boil us all!"

"Who... leaked it to you?"

"A cook."

Newcas closed his eyes in despair, regretting having joked around in the banquet hall, wishing he could slap himself.

That wasn't his proposal; he had just said it casually in the banquet hall, but who would have thought there were crazier people than him who actually moved that thing to the conference table.

However, those big-mouthed cooks didn't seem to have leaked his name, just told the people outside in a joking tone.

And that man named Baal didn't laugh either, just said seriously.

"I went to the Saint Roland Fitz Church School to find Professor Ferguson, but I learned that he had been invited to Thunder City University to compile the 'Encyclopedia' and was no longer in this city. You are the only good person we can trust; that cook told us you treat us like humans."

Newcas wanted to say this must be a misunderstanding; rather than saying he treated Ryan people like humans, it was more that Ryan people were humans to begin with.

He was just saying what a human should say from a human perspective; how did he get tied to the flagpole by this group of lunatics??

Did they know who his backing was!?

As long as he mentioned it to Sir Skedkin, the Royal Guard would hang this group of criminals who trespassed into a councilor's home the next day.

But looking at the appearance of these two brothers, they seemed to no longer care whether they died today or tomorrow... he'd better shut up.

Looking at the silent Councilor Newcas, Baal didn't get discouraged, but took a small booklet from his bosom; it was the first volume of the "Encyclopedia."

It clearly wrote about the King's entry. He flipped to that page, and Newcas clearly saw that page had many highlighted marks.

Alright, His Majesty Westeon was a genius; he actually forced a group of guys who should have been sitting in a tavern drinking beer and singing songs to learn things that had nothing to do with them.

"... This is the Encyclopedia compiled with the participation of Professor Ferguson; after reading what he said, we finally realized what the nobles had stolen from our hands."

Newcas: "The first volume doesn't have Professor Ferguson's signature; strictly speaking, this doesn't count as what he said—"

"What's important isn't the signature, but the content inside; we finally know where our pain comes from."

Nat, who had been silent, interrupted the dumbfounded Newcas. He didn't care about the latter's surprise at all, continuing to speak his own words in a low, hoarse voice.

"Professor Ferguson is right; when the old roof no longer keeps out the wind and rain, we should build a house ourselves. Since they won't let the Third Estate play, we'll play by ourselves!"

A fire burned in the man's eyes, a raging fire that made Newcas feel terrified, although it wasn't burning his own backside.

Baal continued his words.

"That's right! Just as Nat said, we are going to form our own 'National Assembly'! Mr. Newcas, you are a councilor of the Third Estate, and you are the only good person we can trust. We need your support, and we need your wisdom, please... give everyone a chance to live!"