Chapter 599: Roland City Is Packed with Gunpowder

As the Campbellers and Leiners clasped hands, the ancient land of knights ignited the spark of republicanism.

Meanwhile, the greedy Theoden and his nobles were discussing twenty "cooking" techniques of the Leiners at the Third Assembly.

The citizens' delegates, holding only 3% of the seats, acted as witnesses to the loot-sharing banquet, pondering how to slice the squab and what garnishes to arrange as decoration on the plate.

Yet at this very moment, neither Theoden nor the nobles of Roland City, nor even the guildmasters of the stonemasons, knew that Edward, who had never forgotten his vow of vengeance, had quietly planted detonators beneath their chairs.

The blood of the Campbellers cannot be spilled in vain!

In truth, whether Edward existed or not no longer mattered.

Roland City was like a massive powder keg, its lock a manacle burned red by flame.

Outside Roland City, a fierce argument erupted before a market stall.

The olive oil vendor angrily hurled the rusted copper coin in his hand onto the ground and cursed the nobleman's servant towering above him.

"By Saint Cis, what kind of trash are you giving me!"

In the past, if someone came with a rusted copper coin, he would have tolerated it for the sake of good business.

But this fellow had gone too far—he dared to insult him by confusing iron rust with copper rust!

Do I look like a serf from some estate?

Notably, the kingdom's barons lacked the moral restraint of earls; long ago, they began using iron scraps to deceive their estate serfs.

But generally, they had some sense—they only deceived their own people and never let these inferior coins circulate into the king's cities.

After all, citizens were the king's property; without the king's tacit approval and the backing of his swords, commoners would never recognize their authority.

But now things were different.

The king and the nobles had joined forces.

Once local barons began seeking their own solutions to help the king resolve fiscal issues, they would inevitably descend upon the flock like ravenous wolves.

It was merely a question of which tool they used.

After gaining the king's tacit approval, the restricted inferior coins from the estates flooded the Lein Kingdom's markets like a deluge, plundering the hardworking citizens of Lein.

To be fair, "Lein iron scraps" weren't even the most shameless.

The ceramic shards that shattered at a touch, and the wooden slivers that floated on the Eternal River, were outright robbery.

He hadn't encountered them merely because he was uneducated—he'd never seen the nobles' methods.

The well-dressed, stiff-backed servant's lips twitched as he stared at the furious vendor.

Especially with the growing crowd around him, his forced arrogance began to crack.

He represented not himself, but Baron Emanbela. If the steward learned he had shamed the baron, his entire family would suffer.

"This is Baron Emanbela's crest—you are challenging noble dignity, commoner!"

The servant's tone grew harsh, his face twisted with vicious fury, trying to force the short man into submission.

"I give you ten seconds to pick it up—I'll pretend I didn't see it and spare your dog's life! Otherwise, even Saint Cis cannot save you!"

In the past, the onlooker merchants would have rushed to mediate—after all, everyone needed to do business.

But unluckily, the market was now sparse with people; they weren't busy at all.

The short oil vendor was no exception.

He had previously dealt with both citizens and nobles, usually enduring noble servants' bullying.

But lately, life had grown harder—his customers dwindled, and even the few remaining ones came with blackened iron scraps to humiliate him.

He could no longer endure it!

"Then let us go before Saint Cis together! Let Him judge between us!"

The suppressed fury erupted suddenly, surprising everyone—including the noble servant.

He saw only the short man pull a knife from beneath the table, and before he could react, the man lunged into his chest.

"You—you're going to—!"

A pig-like scream pierced the air; the gushing blood stunned those who had moved to intervene, and the onlooker merchants turned and fled.

The man standing in the pool of blood did not run.

Calmly, he wiped the blood from his blade, then laid the knife against his own throat.

He was going to meet Saint Cis.

The commotion drew the guards; lately, they had been on high-alert patrols, arriving just in time.

But when the kingdom's guards arrived, two corpses lay on the filthy stall.

The perpetrator was already dead.

Looking at the grisly scene, the patrol captain swallowed hard and made the sign of the cross over his chest.

"By Saint Cis…"

The oil vendor had stabbed the noble servant through the heart, then slit his own throat.

His blade work was clearly slow—he left half his neck hanging from his shoulder, blood flooding back into his trachea, his bulging eyes seeming ready to burst, and he clearly suffered greatly before dying.

The patrol captain turned to his deputy and whispered.

"Go get the nearby priest—quickly."

Those who depart with resentment become undead.

Though dealing with an undead lacking awakened supernatural power isn't difficult, it's still a nuisance.

Under the guards' escort, the priest arrived swiftly, murmuring prayers to summon the holy light that calmed hatred.

The crowd reassembled around the bloodstained shelves, watching the light descend from above, whispering in hushed tones, discussing the event, mourning the two pitiful souls.

Yet even in this tragic sorrow, there was a faint, pitiful comfort.

Noble servants were usually arranged from birth to death, so they never lacked priestly rites; some serfs with kind masters even had peaceful deaths.

But free citizens rarely had such chances—especially the king's citizens. The farther they were from nobles, the more hasty and crude both their lives and deaths became, left to hope for guild aid or a kind priest.

Unfortunately, Roland City had no compassionate priests.

The foundation of feudalism lies in making nobles greedy, priests cold, and commoners foolish…

With one slash, he could now meet Saint Cis.

…

In the study of Collin Estate, bright sunlight streamed through the glass window, falling upon a listless vampire.

Though vampires in this world feared neither sunlight nor sunburn, being sealed off from supernatural power and exposed to direct sun was, for a mischievous little devil, a relatively dignified and effective punishment.

This was Lady Padrich's idea, allegedly learned from the Padrich family library.

At this moment, Vivian resembled a kitten with its neck gripped by fate. A silver collar hung around her throat, suspended by invisible source-force hands from the bookshelf directly opposite the window.

Beneath her deep purple skirt, two legs wrapped in black thigh-high socks swayed like restless black cat tails, trying to kick at something they could not reach.

For the restless Vivian, the hardship wasn't the spring sunlight outside the window.

It was the inability to run about—it was more painful than death.

The only comfort was that her revered elder brother hadn't left her hanging alone in a dark room.

Was this, then, the legendary technique of offering a carrot before wielding the stick?

No wonder he's the Demon King—

His power was terrifyingly immense!

Watching the Demon King read, Vivian swallowed hard and whispered in a plaintive voice.

"Brother… I can't reach the floor like this."

Luo Yan, seated by the window reading, turned a page and replied in a slow, deliberate tone.

"That means the height is perfect."

"…Too… too cruel."

"Don't you think wearing shoes and jumping on someone's bedding to dance is more cruel?"

Dance?

Vivian didn't understand the word, but her eyes flickered slightly, and a clever idea surfaced in her mind.

"So… if I take off my shoes, it's okay?"

Luo Yan sighed.

"It seems your repentance is insufficient—add two more hours."

Unfortunately, letters arriving at the estate had grown scarce, and all the accumulated letters had already been organized by Vivian—otherwise, making her write essays would have been a good punishment.

Luo Yan had also considered sending her to study at Lei Ming University, to keep an eye on Nanfu for him.

Though this girl had an odd personality, she was intelligent, bold, and decisive; by contrast, Nanfu was more likely to expose himself.

But the problem lay precisely in Vivian's nature.

Recalling the thank-you letters from demon Erdai, Luo Yan pondered a moment, then decided not to add more trouble for Edward.

Let Mia be her opponent instead.

He would find a way soon to raise Mia to Platinum rank—then the two should be evenly matched.

"Mmm…"

Gazing at her cold, heartless brother, Vivian's face took on the expression of having been shot through the chest. She shut her trembling eyelids tightly, a faint flush rising on her pale cheeks.

Damn it…

Is this the Demon King's power?

I want it so badly…

At that moment, a knock came at the study door, and a wisp of pink-scented wind drifted in.

"Hehehe… isn't this the beloved Miss Collin? How did you end up hanging from the bookshelf?"

Vivian, who had been enjoying herself, twitched her eyebrows slightly and glared fiercely at the door.

As expected, the fox spirit from the Padrich family stood there, clutching a manuscript in her arms, her left hand lightly covering her lips, a mocking smile on her face.

"What are you here for?"

The two "black cat tails" swaying beside the bookshelf curled up, as if entering battle mode.

Mia remained calm, gently brushing a strand of her bangs off her shoulder with the back of her hand, speaking in a languid tone.

"What am I here for? Who are you to ask? Adults are conducting business—children should just watch."

Hearing this, Vivian finally panicked, squirming violently in the giant force of source magic, tears welling up in her eyes.

"W-wait… are you serious?! The Corlin family will never tolerate such humiliation… you you you you…"

Mia frowned in suspicion at the bookshelf, which looked as if it had been hit by an earthquake.

"Humiliation?"

Luo Yan was truly afraid she'd say something even more misleading, and cleared his throat softly.

"Mia, hand me the manuscript in your arms."

"Okay!"

Hearing Luo Yan's voice, Mia walked over cheerfully and handed him the second volume of the *Encyclopedia* manuscript with a beaming smile.

Seeing it was only about this, the little bat wriggling on the bookshelf instantly stopped struggling—but the killing intent in her eyes grew even sharper.

"Thank you."

Taking the manuscript from Mia, Luo Yan opened the front page and found several thunderously famous names added to the author field.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

The "Encyclopedia School" was growing stronger; soon, this force would ignite a flame sweeping across the entire Os Continent!

His vision extended far beyond the Kingdom of Rayne.

The dominoes would begin to fall from here!

"Supernatural beings?"

"Correct. This was my suggestion to Luokeer —he initially wanted to name this volume after monsters or beasts, but I felt that lacked comprehensiveness. For instance, dragons aren't included in those categories; 'supernatural beings' is far more universal."

Not only that—

He planned to include entries on human supernatural beings and deconstruct the origins of supernatural power.

He would clearly define that supernatural power is granted by deities, why deities grant it, how it ought to be used, and how it ought not to be used.

These concepts were not his own inventions—they were the widespread "public consensus" of the Second Era.

Now, this unwritten consensus would become a written contract, etched into the *Encyclopedia*!

Gant Steingrabe became a demigod precisely because of this—and "proving the Dao through the sword" was his own misunderstanding.

The true reason was that he used his sword to rid the people of tyranny, embodying the "rogue knight spirit," or "chivalric knight spirit," held in the hearts of the common folk of the Os Continent.

If Gant could see this book, he would gain a deeper understanding of his own power—and realize why it had begun to fade.

As Luo Yan spoke these difficult concepts, Mia nodded slowly, half-understanding.

"... I see."

A thought stirred in her mind, and she suddenly asked curiously.

"Are succubi included in this book?"

Her heart-shaped tail flicked behind her, and her eyes brimmed with intense curiosity.

She wanted to know how humans viewed succubi!

Especially *him*!

Seeing the anticipation written in her heart-shaped pupils, Luo Yan's gaze shifted slightly.

"I think you'd be better off not expecting too much."

"Let me see! Just one glance!"

"... It's not exactly forbidden material, but I advise you to view human prejudices toward Hell objectively."

After giving the Padrich family's young lady a thorough warning, Luo Yan returned the newly acquired manuscript to her.

Snatching up the second volume of the *Encyclopedia*, Mia eagerly pounced on the table and flipped it open; soon, she found the entry on succubi under "Hellish Beings."

The succubi entry was not short—it included an overview and two subdivisions: "Lower Succubi" and "Higher Succubi."