Bach's body grew cold in a pool of blood in the center of the square. After the initial frenzy and fury, the spectating crowd gradually calmed. The people began to disperse until only a few stragglers remained, pointing at the mess and whispering amongst themselves.
The town mayor arrived late with his guards.
His face was ashen as he looked at his nephew's mangled corpse.
But when his gaze swept across the townsfolk in the square, seeing the ferocity that had not yet faded from their eyes, he wisely chose to remain silent.
The law does not punish the masses.
In this trial, ignited by Lacey and carried out by all the town's citizens, not a single person could be singled out and convicted.
Bach's ledgers and the proof of his crimes were ironclad evidence; he more than deserved his fate.
In the end, the mayor could only lead his guards away resentfully.
...
Half a month later, in another of Leithanien's border cities, Salem.
The city was famous for its spice and textile trade, and its central district was prosperous and wealthy. However, separated by just a wall from this splendor was the slum district in the west of the city.
This place was the city's sewer, where all its filth and squalor converged.
The narrow streets were muddy and overflowing with sewage, emitting a nauseatingly sour stench.
Dilapidated wooden huts were crammed together haphazardly. Ragged children rummaged through garbage heaps for anything still edible, their eyes numb.
The adults were mostly sallow-faced, either toiling in sweatshops for a meager wage or gathering at street corners, numbing themselves with cheap beer.
Lacey had been here for three days.
He had rented an attic room that could barely shelter him from the elements for a pittance.
He had also changed into a shabbier set of clothes, sallowed his face with dirt and pigment, and grown out his stubble to make himself look like a common slum dweller.
Lacey's status as a "war hero" and the tale of him leading the townsfolk to execute Bach had long since spread here.
But he did not use this identity. It would attract unnecessary trouble, and he needed to keep a low profile.
Every day, Lacey would wander through every corner of the slum. He would go to the beer halls to listen to people boast and complain, to the bakery entrance to watch people fight over half a moldy loaf of bread, and to the back-alley clinics to see patients unable to afford medical fees get roughly thrown out.
He saw too much human suffering.
A man who had lost a hand in a factory, unable to get compensation, could only watch as his child starved to death.
A young girl, desperate to buy medicine for her gravely ill mother, had no choice but to sell herself to a portly merchant.
An old veteran who had fought on the same battlefields as him had his legs broken by patrolling guards for muttering a few complaints about the nobles' extravagance after a drink, and now he could only survive by begging.
The people here had no hope in their hearts, only despair. They were numb to everything.
[Having avenged your parents, you have found a direction for your heart. You now turn your gaze to the whole of Leithanien.]
[You decide you want to change this country.]
[You begin to analyze the situation: the Twin Empresses, the Electors, the Tower Nobles... Facing these behemoths with your current strength is like a mantis trying to stop a chariot.]
[You recall your father's words, the experience of having your position usurped, and the crimes of Bach.]
[You realize that the greatest conflict in this country lies between the high-and-mighty nobility and the oppressed common folk at the bottom.]
[A single spark can start a prairie fire. What you must do is find those sparks.]
[And so, you came to the border town of Salem, where the conflict between nobles and commoners is more pronounced. You witness commoners suffer injustice almost every day.]
['Then let the change begin here.']
[As you were thinking this, you encountered an unusual young woman.]
She was a girl who looked quite young, with beautiful, short, silvery-gray hair, dressed in a simple but clean long dress.
Every day, at a fixed time, she would come to the slum carrying a basket filled with clean bandages, some basic medicines, and some dark bread.
She would gently dress the wounds of the injured and distribute the bread to hungry children, always with a gentle and kind smile on her face.
In this filthy and chaotic slum, she was like a lily blooming in silence, seeming utterly out of place.
The residents of the slum all seemed to know her. The children would gather around her affectionately, and the adults looked at her with gazes full of sincere gratitude and respect.
Lacey noticed that she did all this quietly, never seeking publicity or asking for anything in return.
On this day, Lacey saw the girl cleaning a wound on the leg of a child who had been cut by rubble.
Her movements were gentle, and she hummed an unknown tune to soothe the child's crying.
Just then, two sleazy-looking ruffians sauntered over. They were notorious local thugs who lived by extortion.
"Well, well, if it isn't our kind Miss Serafina? Here to save the masses again?" one of them, a blond ruffian, jeered, his lecherous gaze sweeping over the girl.
The other ruffian reached directly for the bread in the girl's basket. "My brother and I haven't eaten today. Lend us a few loaves."
The girl, Serafina, frowned and pulled the basket behind her, saying softly, "These are for the children. Please, don't do this."
"For the children?" the blond ruffian sneered. "What's the use of giving it to them? A bunch of money-sucking burdens who won't survive anyway. Better to give it to us. We might even remember your kindness."
With that, he moved to get handsy.
The surrounding residents saw this, and expressions of anger appeared on their faces, yet no one dared to step forward and stop them.
They all feared the power behind these two thugs.
Serafina's face paled, but she stood stubbornly in front of the child.
Lacey sighed, stepped out of the shadows, and stood between Serafina and the two ruffians.
He hadn't expected to encounter such a cliché hero-saves-the-damsel scenario, but he couldn't just stand by and watch.
The blond ruffian looked the suddenly-appeared Lacey up and down. Seeing his shabby clothes and not particularly imposing figure, a disdainful smile spread across his face.
"Where'd this beggar come from? Trying to play the hero? Why don't you take a piss and look at yourself! Get lost, or I'll beat you too!"
As he spoke, he threw a punch at Lacey's face.
But in the next second, his fist was easily intercepted in mid-air by a single hand.
"Ah!" the blond ruffian cried out in pain, feeling as if his wrist was about to be crushed.
Lacey gave his wrist a slight flick, sending a burst of skillful force. The blond ruffian immediately spun like a top twice before falling on his rear into the muddy water, splashing filth everywhere.
Seeing this, the other ruffian took two steps back in fear. He tried to pull a dagger from his waist but was frozen in place by Lacey's cold stare.
"Get lost."
Lacey said only one word. As if granted amnesty, the two ruffians scrambled up from the ground.
The uninjured ruffian could see that Lacey's movements were swift and efficient; he was clearly not someone to be trifled with.
He quickly helped up the still-wailing blond, and they ran off without looking back, not daring to utter a single threat.
The minor disturbance was thus quelled.
The gazes of the surrounding residents toward Lacey changed from their initial indifference to something more of surprise and awe.
In this land where the strong prey on the weak, strength was always the most direct pass.
Lacey paid no mind to the stares around him. He turned to face the girl named Serafina.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, thank you." Serafina gave him a grateful smile, so clean and pure it was like sunshine after rain, warming one's heart.
She knelt down, finished bandaging the child's wound, and took a piece of bread from her basket to give to him.
After doing all this, she stood up and thanked Lacey again, "Thank you so much. My name is Serafina. And you are?"
"Lacey."
"Mr. Lacey, do you live here too? I don't think I've seen you before," Serafina asked, looking at him curiously.
"Just arrived." Lacey was concise.
Serafina seemed to notice his aloofness but didn't mind, still smiling as she said, "Those two are the local bullies. You've offended them today, so they'll definitely come looking for trouble. You must be careful."
"I know," Lacey nodded.
"If you don't mind..." Serafina took another piece of bread from her basket and held it out to him, saying a bit shyly, "This... please take it as my thanks. I know it's not much, but..."
Lacey looked at the dark, somewhat hard bread, remained silent for a moment, then reached out and took it.
"Thanks."
He could feel that the girl's kindness was genuine, without any impurities.
Serafina seemed pleased that he accepted it. After reminding him again to be careful, she picked up her basket and continued deeper into the slum, her figure quickly disappearing around a corner.
Lacey looked at the bread in his hand, then in the direction she had gone, lost in thought.
What he didn't know was that after he turned to leave, the girl named Serafina had stopped at the corner.
She leaned against the wall, the smile on her face gradually fading, replaced by a complex expression.
Serafina Ivanovna Petrova, a former interrogator who had escaped a special department in Ursus—this was her true identity.
Her Originium Arts allowed her to clearly perceive the electrical signals within living organisms, and through this, judge their emotional fluctuations.
This had made her an infallible "human lie detector."
But in Ursus, the Infected whose lies she exposed would often suffer inhuman abuse.
The daily torment became too much for her kind heart to bear. In the end, she exchanged a confidential list with one of Leithanien's Electors for her freedom.
She thought escaping to Leithanien would allow her to live a peaceful life.
But what she saw was another kind of hell.
The "Great Purge" after the Twin Empresses took the throne had shattered countless innocent families, its methods even more brutal than those in Ursus.
She had witnessed too many tragedies and was filled with a sense of powerlessness.
Her daily charity in the slum was merely a way to seek some psychological comfort, to prove to herself that she was different from the tormentors.
But she knew very well that it changed nothing.
She had even started to entertain the idea of leaving Leithanien for a more distant, more peaceful place.
Until today, when she met Lacey.
Just now, as Lacey confronted the ruffians, she had "seen" the emotions within him.
It was an extraordinary calm. And beneath that calm, she sensed another, searing emotion.
An emotion she had never sensed in anyone before.
Even those nobles who spoke of benevolence and righteousness, or the rebels who shouted slogans of "righting wrongs"—their hearts were all tainted with greed, ambition, and desire.
But this man had none of that.
His heart was like fine steel tempered in blood and fire.
For the first time, a strong sense of curiosity stirred in Serafina's heart.
She wanted to know: Who was this man? What had he been through? Why did he come to the slum, and what did he intend to do?
________________________________________
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