When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 817 - 768: So It Was You, Sir

Moliat's policy took effect.

The taxes used to pay Norn's debts were turned into funds for Shattered Stone Plain war bonds.

Either buy them back at a 20% discount or hold onto them and wait for the full amount plus interest to be repaid next year.

Most of those eligible chose to buy back their bonds.

After all, with this disastrous defeat, who knows how long it will take for Moliat to recover.

However, most of the buyback eligibility was given to the Mountain Faction nobles and their allied wealthy merchants and citizens.

Those Noble Knights of the Plain Faction, as well as ordinary citizens or those who made small purchases, received nothing.

This instead ignited the anger of the common people. Why can they buy back the bonds while we are forced to let them hold us back?

Thus, as Herman had predicted, larger-scale riots broke out.

...

Rotten leaves made a subtle, sorrowful sound underfoot as Matthias ascended the century-old stone steps to the monastery's ruined terrace.

Moonlight pierced through the collapsed dome, illuminating 768 faces below, covered in rough burlap.

Seven hundred and sixty-eight war bondholders, at this moment, were caressing the iris bonds hidden in their arms, the paper's intricate patterns long blackened by sweat.

"They call these bonds, call them IOUs." This small liquor merchant raised the yellowing bond, fluttering in the autumn wind, "Repaying debts is a matter of course; we don't even want interest, just half the principal.

Yet Moliat's signature refuses to repay; is this really borrowing? It's robbery!"

A suppressed sob erupted from the crowd, resonating through the empty monastery in layers of echoes.

They had already been drained of their savings by war bonds, and now they had to labor on flood diversion canals and flood defense embankments.

What kind of place was the Civilian Camp?

It's no exaggeration to call it hell!

Matthias pointed to the faint lights in the east: "They have driven us to our deaths, yet they continue to enjoy their fine banquets and nights. We, we..."

His voice choked with sobs, which stirred a chorus of desperate cries.

"In the King's era, though life was tough, deception wasn't part of it." Wrapped in bear fur, the old Hunter suddenly roared, pounding his fist heavily on the stone slab.

"First, they took our money, and now they force us to build canals," a destitute Knight shouted in the crowd.

"Now, we even have to pay them taxes to buy a burial plot!"

"I said that woman didn't seem like a good person!"

The crowd began to agitate, with a few young tenant farmers drawing hay forks, blacksmiths wielding forging hammers, and citizens raising their dirk swords.

Seeing the atmosphere heat up, Matthias cried out tearfully: "Oranbo Town, the basement of the Town Hall, holds the last batch of unpaid silver!

If Moliat won't give it to us, then we'll take it ourselves! It's our hard-earned money."

"Yes, take it ourselves!"

"Our hard-earned money!!!"

"Roar—"

"Let's go!"

A long procession of torches set out for Oranbo Town in the pre-dawn moonlight.

While the crowd shouted with rage, Matthias quietly descended from the terrace.

He bent over, rubbing his hands: "Baron, how did I do?"

"Very well, that choking moment even made me believe it was real." A voice from the shadows laughed.

"Baron, did you also fail to buy back bonds? Why would you..."

"Don't ask questions you shouldn't." The Baron's cold voice cut Matthias off, "Once you're ready, set off."

...

As the first rays of sunlight pierced the morning mist, the Night Watcher Colby had just stepped onto the street with his gong, only to see a field of sparks.

Countless masked figures surged out from seven street entrances simultaneously, and before he could shout, the leader's flail came crashing down.

"In the name of Lanfeng!"

The young Colby, mouth agape, fell into a pool of blood.

The shrieks shattered the dew off the eaves, awakening the town's slumbering residents.

They cautiously peered outside from their windows, observing as over seven hundred rioters rampaged, destroying everything in sight.

The jewelry store's iron gate was torn down by a carriage, with dozens of masked figures vying for the sapphire necklace in the velvet box.

The bakery emitted a burnt odor, and the rioters dragging the baker's body gnawed on bread as they dashed out of the shop.

A select group of elite individuals, led by destitute Knights and bankrupt lesser nobles, headed straight for the Town Hall.

"Who are you?"

The sentry mustered his courage to utter this question, just as a short sword plunged into his chest with a squelch.

The white-haired old gatekeeper lay in a pool of blood, countless feet trampling past his side.

Before long, the iron-bound oak door of the Town Hall crashed down under the battering ram.

Entering the Town Hall, everyone's heart relaxed from slaughtering the high and mighty.

But upon seeing another iron door to the treasury, Matthias cursed in anger: "Damn it! Keep smashing!"

This time, before they could strike a few blows, a lookout from the bell tower screamed as he fell: "Stop smashing, the army, the army is here!"

"The army?!" Matthias's shrill voice quivered, "It's only been less than two hours!"

He thought this trip had been very secretive, merely intending to seize some money amid the chaos.

Why, why did they arrive so quickly?

...

The six-sided iron club whistled through the air like a swarm of bees, as the first wave of transport soldiers leapt down from the ship's side, advancing in precise formation.

Any rioter who came into contact with them seemed to collapse like melted ice.

These leather-armored soldiers aimed directly at joints.

Broken knees, fractured elbows, shattered shoulders, and the sound of bone-cracking spread with cries of agony.

"Ah, help, help—" 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

One rioter with a crushed ankle tried to crawl away, only to be struck on the back of the head with a roundhouse kick.

These "mountaineers" had been trained in martial skills from a young age. While they might not fare well against a regular army in battle, for small-scale skirmishes involving dozens of people, they were exceedingly familiar.

Especially in a small-town setting, this was even more to their advantage.

"Wedge formation!" The squad leader tore off the obstructive sash, and the ten men behind him suddenly tightened their formation, creating a vortex of iron clubs.

Two rioters wielding wooden doors were flipped to the ground as soon as they charged out.

The doors were kicked away, as multiple feet pressed down simultaneously, and blood, along with shattered teeth, spurted from their mouths.

"Ahhhh—"

From behind a window, a third rioter joined the attack.

However, before his hay fork could strike, it was tangled and flung away by an iron club. The next second, six iron clubs swung in unison against his body.

The successive sounds of bones shattering caused the rioter, a farmer by profession, to collapse to the ground instantly.

But then, a knight's sword suddenly thrust out from the shadows, forcing the squad leader to sidestep, though still slicing off half of his shoulder armor.

"It's a Thrust from the Langdoc school!" Before the deputy's words were finished, the "rioter" in tattered chainmail had already plunged into the formation, his sword tip striking down three men like a venomous snake.

More impoverished Knights hidden among the crowd revealed themselves, targeting the transport soldiers' visor gaps.

Only at this moment did a few commanders react, grabbing their spears and bows in shock and fury.

Tremblingly climbing up the bell tower, Matthias beheld a hellish street scene:

The iron clubs of the transport soldiers smashed the farmers' heads into their chests, while Knights withdrew their blood-soaked swords from the soldiers' armpit armor seams.

The apothecary's wife used a pestle to smash the teeth of a robber, but even before she could revel in her success, a stray arrow pierced her throat.

A man hugged a child beneath the tailor's counter, trembling as they listened to the beam above them creaking.

"Saints above..." The wine merchant's bewildered prayer was interrupted by the roaring sound of vibrations.

It was the sound of a Spring Cannon striking the wooden bell tower, and with the brass bell, Matthias plummeted from above.

In his moment of descent, he saw the people in the square clearly.

Baron Raymond, the noble who directed him to incite the attack on Oranbo Town.

He was righteously commanding the transport soldiers to put out fires, with the ring symbolizing Lanfeng on his hand glowing red in the firelight.