Arturia paused for a moment, then understood what Lacey meant.
She smiled faintly. "You want me to... play on the street?"
Lacey nodded. "Go to the most crowded place, the Municipal Plaza. Play whatever you like. You don't have to say a thing."
Serafina and Taylor both wore confused expressions.
They couldn't understand what use a street performance could possibly be at such a tense moment.
But Arturia stood up. Without asking why, she simply agreed, "Alright."
...
The next day, at the Municipal Plaza.
The Workers' Party announced that to celebrate the rebirth of Wischeim, a concert would be held that evening, and all citizens were welcome to attend.
This news gave the rumor-mongers a new angle of attack.
"See! I told you there was something wrong with them! Who in their right mind would hold a concert at a time like this? They must be planning to use some kind of spell to control everyone!"
However, curiosity ultimately triumphed over fear.
By dusk, a dense crowd had gathered in the plaza.
They whispered among themselves, buzzing with discussion.
Several spies sent by Viscount Stalenf had also blended into the crowd.
Their orders were to start heckling as soon as the concert began and throw the scene into complete chaos.
As night fell, Arturia, dressed in a black gown, walked onto the stage alone.
After sitting, she positioned her cello, bowed to the audience, and then closed her eyes.
The bow met the strings, and as the first note sounded, the din of the entire plaza was instantly silenced as if by an invisible hand.
It was a melody of immense sorrow, yet it held a mysterious power.
The music at times wept and pleaded, at others soared with passion.
This was not a piece meant to lift one's spirits.
Memories of struggling through hardship, suppressed anger, and the faint hope for the future were all stirred up by the cello's voice.
The people forgot to talk, forgot the rumors swirling around them.
An old woman with a face full of wrinkles was, without realizing it, streaming with tears.
A stoic-looking man bit his lip hard, his eyes bloodshot.
One of the spies in the crowd, a man named Troy, was a thorough scoundrel who did anything for money, completely without a moral compass.
He was about to follow his orders and start shouting, but when the music entered his ears, a shudder ran through his entire body.
He remembered his younger sister, whose leg was broken for stealing a loaf of bread.
He remembered the degrading way he had bowed and scraped for a few silver coins.
An intense feeling of shame and disgust surged up from the depths of his heart.
He opened his mouth but couldn't utter a single word. He just covered his face and squatted down.
His companions fared even worse; some even began to dry heave.
At Lacey's instruction, Arturia's performance was not augmented with any Originium Arts. It merely amplified the truths that already existed in people's hearts.
For those with light in their hearts, it kindled a flame; for those with guilt, it guided them to the truth.
When the piece ended, Arturia stood, bowed again, and then, holding her cello, quietly departed under the gaze of everyone present.
In the plaza, after a long silence, someone was the first to start clapping.
Immediately, thunderous applause filled the night sky, lasting for a long, long time.
But just then, the unexpected happened.
"BOOM!"
A massive explosion echoed from nearby. A ball of fire shot into the sky, painting half the night crimson.
It was the newly built Workers' Party warehouse, used for storing grain and supplies!
The crowd instantly descended into chaos.
Standing beside the plaza, Lacey and Serafina exchanged a look, their faces instantly darkening.
Both immediately thought of Viscount Stalenf, who had been spreading rumors in Wischeim.
The warehouse contained not only the grain collected by the Workers' Party but also lumber and tools spontaneously donated by many citizens—it was their hope for building a new home.
Panic and anger drove the crowd to surge toward the fire.
"Everyone, halt!"
A furious roar cut through the noise.
Lacey stood at the edge of the plaza, his voice carrying across the entire square without needing any amplification.
"Panicking won't solve anything! It will only cause us greater losses!"
"Taylor! Immediately organize the Action Team and all party members to fight the fire! Evacuate the surrounding residents!"
"Yes, sir!" Taylor roared, leading his men against the flow of the crowd.
"Serafina!" Lacey turned to her. "Contact Miss Gertrude, notify the City Guard, and lock down all city gates! Don't let a single bird fly out! I want to know who started this fire!"
Serafina nodded, her figure quickly vanishing into the night.
Lacey's gaze swept over the terrified crowd. He knew that if he didn't handle this properly, everything the Workers' Party had built in Wischeim would turn to ash in this fire.
"I know what you're all thinking," Lacey's voice rang out again.
"Someone wants to destroy everything we now have! They're afraid of us living good lives, afraid that we'll no longer be slaves they can order around!"
"They think that by burning down one warehouse, they can make us afraid, make us back down!"
He paused, raising his fist.
"But I'm telling them now! They are wrong! The people of Wischeim cannot be burned down!"
"They burn one warehouse, and tomorrow we will build two! They destroy our grain, and we will tighten our belts and rebuild our home all the same!"
"We will find the coward who set this fire and make them pay the price! But right now, I need your strength!"
"Men, follow me to fight the fire! Women and children, go home, lock your doors and windows, and don't give the enemy a chance to create more chaos!"
The crowd's emotions were roused.
After the initial panic, a sense of shared outrage began to spread.
Many able-bodied young men spontaneously joined the Workers' Party teams, carrying buckets of water as they charged toward the fire.
The fire was eventually extinguished, but over seventy percent of the supplies in the warehouse were destroyed.
The results of the on-site investigation came quickly. It was arson, and there was more than one point of origin.
News also came from Serafina's side.
At the east gate, a squad of guards had stopped a carriage attempting to force its way through.
The driver committed suicide by poison before he could be captured. Inside the carriage were two men with burn marks on their bodies, carrying the crest of Viscount Stalenf.
They were caught red-handed.
The next morning, two gallows were erected in Wischeim's Municipal Plaza.
The two captured arsonists were publicly executed under the furious glare of several thousand citizens.
Lacey personally read out their crimes and named the mastermind behind them—the lord of Fink County, Viscount Stalenf.
The crowd was incensed.
"Revenge! Revenge!"
"Attack Fink County! Hang that fat pig of a viscount!"
The public's fury was completely ignited. Even the soldiers of Gertrude's guard showed a thirst for battle.
However, at this very moment, Lacey made a decision that stunned everyone, including Gertrude.
He announced that the Workers' Party would send a representative to Fink County for "peaceful negotiations" with Viscount Stalenf.
"Negotiations?" In the study of the countess's manor, Gertrude could hardly believe her ears.
"Lacey, have you gone mad? The people's will is with us, morale is high—this is the perfect time for us to send troops! And you want to negotiate with that fat pig?"
"Send troops?" Lacey countered. "Under what pretext?"
"A private feud between nobles? Gertrude, you need to understand, we no longer represent just ourselves."
"The moment we declare war, we give other nobles an excuse to interfere. At that point, we might be facing more than just one Stalenf."
"But we can't just let it go!" Gertrude couldn't accept it. "This will make us look weak and easy to bully!"
"Who said anything about letting it go?" Lacey smiled.
"In the art of war, attacking the heart is superior to attacking the city; psychological warfare is superior to armed warfare."
He laid out his entire plan.
After hearing it, the anger on Gertrude's face gradually faded, replaced by a complex expression of shock mixed with admiration.
She realized that her ally's way of thinking could always effortlessly transcend the rigid, black-and-white logic of the nobility.
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