The dozens of Picket Team members who had broken away from the main force did not burst into any homes. They placed bags of black bread and waterskins by the side of the street, after which Markus loudly relayed Lacey's orders:
"Everyone, please stay in your homes, lock your doors and windows, and protect yourselves!"
"Today, the tower will surely fall!"
A daring old woman walked out, trembling, and accepted a piece of black bread.
She squeezed it. It was real.
She took a bite. It was real, too.
"Child… you… are you telling the truth?" the old woman's voice shook.
"Of course it's true, ma'am," Markus smiled, revealing a set of white teeth.
"Mr. Lacey said that we are the people's army; we won't take so much as a single needle or thread from the masses!"
"This food is just a small gesture. The real good days will come after we overthrow that butcher Otto!"
"Overthrow… Otto?"
Claude the miner couldn't hold back any longer. He shoved the door open and rushed out.
He ran up to Markus, tilted his coal-dusted face up, and asked loudly, "Can you really defeat Otto? He has countless soldiers!"
Markus met the miner's eyes. "No matter how many soldiers he has, or how sturdy his tower is, they cannot stand against the will of the people. Look!"
He pointed to the Picket Team, which was almost out of sight in the distance.
"We are not fighting for ourselves, but for the tens of millions of oppressed people. An army like that is invincible!"
After hearing this, the miner suddenly turned, ran back home, and grabbed the pickaxe from the corner that he had used for half his life.
"Claude!" his wife cried out in alarm.
The miner waved to his wife, then shouted to Markus, "I want to go with you!"
Markus was stunned for a moment, then smiled. "Fighting is our job. You…"
"I'm not going to fight!" the miner stubbornly puffed out his chest.
"I'm going to witness it! I want to see that butcher fall with my own eyes!"
On the street, one door after another was pushed open, and men, covered in coal dust and with numb eyes just like him, walked out.
They saw the fire in each other's eyes, and they saw that distant red banner.
"Damn it all!" an old miner with a limp spat on the ground and grabbed a wooden club. "We're dead either way, might as well go down fighting with them!"
"Count me in!"
"Me too! We've had enough!"
"We want to see him die with our own eyes!"
First a few people, then dozens, then hundreds…
They had no weapons, so they carried pickaxes, shovels, and wooden clubs.
They had no armor, only their tattered work clothes.
They spontaneously formed a torrent, following behind that army.
…
…
At the rear of the column, W watched the ever-growing crowd behind them and let out a whistle. "Hey, big guy."
She called out to Taylor, who was walking alongside. "Your leader really has a few tricks up his sleeve. Makes it seem like a god descending from the heavens. With so many people following, aren't you afraid they'll get in the way when the fighting starts?"
Taylor glanced at her and said gruffly, "They are our strength, too."
W scoffed. "A bunch of commoners who can't even hold a blade steady? Don't be ridiculous."
"When the spells from the tower rain down, we'll have to get distracted saving them."
"You wouldn't understand." Taylor couldn't be bothered to say more to her. He quickened his pace and returned to his unit.
W pouted and looked at Hoederer beside her. "Hoederer, tell me, is this Lacey guy playing with fire? Bringing along such a burdensome crowd."
Hoederer stared straight ahead and replied calmly, "Our mission is to breach the tower and get paid. How he fights is his business. However…"
He paused, then said, "This is the first time I've seen an army that civilians would follow voluntarily."
…
An hour later, atop the tower.
Elector Otto Gladstone stood before a monitoring screen, which clearly displayed everything on the plains outside the tower.
He looked at the glaring red banner, at that ragtag army, and a contemptuous expression appeared on his face.
"A disorderly mob," he picked up a wine glass from the table, took a sip, and commented arrogantly.
"Is this all that Lacey has? A ragtag army? Some demon-folk?"
"Does he think he can shake the Gladstone family's rule over the Wasser Fief, which has lasted for hundreds of years, with just this?"
His chief of staff, a pale, thin, and tall middle-aged man, stood behind him, bowing as he advised:
"My lord, we mustn't underestimate the enemy. This man's… methods are treacherous. His actions in Wischeim have already proven that he is no ordinary rebel."
Otto turned around, slamming the wine glass down on the table. "Just a few cheap tricks to delude the masses! True power is this!"
He pointed at the floor beneath his feet, and then to the top of the towering spire.
The tower, in addition to being a noble's residence, was itself a fortress with extremely strong defenses, capable of serving as an Originium Arts amplifier for the casters within.
If the casters themselves were powerful enough, they could even use the tower to unleash spells comparable to Catastrophes.
"There are twelve resident tower casters. Even though I've sent five of them away, the remaining seven are more than enough to vaporize that swarm of ants outside without a trace!"
The chief of staff dared not say more, only burying his head lower.
He knew that the Lord Elector was in a foul mood due to the disastrous defeat in Kazdel, and any advice right now could provoke his thunderous wrath.
Otto paced back to the monitoring screen and ordered, "Activate the tower's communication Arts array. I want to have a talk with this mud-leg."
"Yes, my lord."
A moment later, above the tower's peak, a screen formed from Originium Arts clearly projected the arrogant face of Otto Gladstone.
"Rebel Lacey!"
Otto's voice, amplified by the array, thundered across the plains.
"You, a mud-leg of lowly birth, dare to incite a mob and lead an army to the gates of my Gladstone family's city!"
"This is a desecration of Leithanien's sacred order! A blatant provocation against the dignity of an Elector!"
"I, Otto Gladstone, the rightful ruler of the Wasser Fief, now give you one last chance!"
"Disband your rebel army immediately, and kneel before my tower to repent for your crimes!"
"In consideration of the blood you once shed for the empire, I may be merciful and only take your head, while sparing the fools you have deluded behind you!"
"Otherwise!" Otto's voice suddenly turned cold.
"I will have all of you, along with this very land beneath your feet, turned to scorched earth!"
"Let all of Leithanien see what happens when you offend an Elector!"
The deafening roar echoed across the plains. Some of the more timid commoners trembled in fear, and even some of the young soldiers' faces turned pale.
However, Lacey's expression did not change in the slightest.
"Otto Gladstone."
"Your era is over."
"Now, I will also give you a chance. Open the gates of your tower, lay down your arms, and come out to surrender."
"You will face a public trial with the participation of all the people of the Wasser Fief. Your crimes will be judged by the people."
"This is your only way out."
"Judge me? You think you're worthy!" Otto burst into crazed laughter.
"You dare to threaten me with that livestock? You dare—"
The laughter stopped abruptly.
"You truly do not know death when you see it!"
"Casters! Turn them all to ash for me!"
________________________________________
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