When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1120: The October 10.6th Parliament Hill Riot (Two Chapters Combined)

Rewind the time by two hours.

Longbow Fort Craftsmen's Street.

Dusk, like a soaked rag, pressed heavily on the workshop square, where a crowd had gathered around the guild church in the center of the square.

Helpers, apprentices, and hired laborers—although the first two were considered to be employed, they still stood together with the hired laborers.

At this moment, what they are most concerned about is the situation on Parliament Hill.

They have all clearly sided with the Holy Alliance. If the Holy Alliance loses, won't they be purged?

"What's going on on Parliament Hill?" A helper in a patched apron asked, rubbing his hands together, his voice trembling as if from the cold or fear.

"I don't know, but neither we nor the farmers are a match for those armies."

These words were like a pebble thrown into water, immediately drawing a chorus of agreement.

Seemingly sensing something, several people in the crowd suddenly looked at each other.

One of the lame old helpers stood in the crowd and muttered in a voice that everyone around could hear: "I just saw some oligarch's steward writing down names. When the time comes, won't we all be dragged to fill the river?"

The alleyway fell silent, save for the creaking sound of the wind blowing past the blacksmith's shop sign.

Whether they were helpers or laborers, they all knew that they were no longer neutral parties.

When the Holy Alliance implemented lunch breaks, raised wages, and banned child labor, they were the first to cheer, waving black and red flags.

When the Common Piety Committee helps them claim workers' compensation, they also help each other prove their injuries.

The Holy Alliance and the Franco faction are now deadlocked; they are like standing on the edge of a cliff.

Ahead lies the path to survival offered by the Holy Alliance; behind lies the purge by the oligarchs.

The former is full of hope, while the latter is relieved to have given up.

The fact that there's been no result for so long is agonizing.

"Wait a little longer, maybe the Holy Alliance will win..." someone whispered to comfort, but there was no confidence in their voice.

Just then, a clear gunshot rang out from afar.

"boom!"

Then came the smell of blood carried on the wind, the smell of torches and pine resin, and faint shouts.

Although the sound was muffled, it startled all the laborers present, who craned their necks to look.

"Where did the gunfire come from? Did something happen on Parliament Hill? Are farmers being killed?"

"I don't know, it seems to be the south gate..."

Before the crowd could finish their discussion, a burly craftsman in a gray robe suddenly rushed into the alley.

His face was filled with horror as he ran, shouting, "It's terrible! The Franz faction is going to settle scores with us!"

Gatz's butler said, "If the bill passes, we'll arrest all the Father Worshippers' helpers and make them indentured servants!"

"what?!"

"I knew those bastards meant no good!"

"Don't get excited, it might just be a rumor."

But before everyone's anger could fully ignite, another drunkard stumbled in.

He held up an empty wine bottle: "We won! The Holy Alliance won! The Common Piety Committee won't ban it! The farmers have stormed Parliament Hill!"

Just as the workers' anger subsided and they were still confused, another woman came running over crying.

"Don't believe it! My husband works on Parliament Hill. He said the Holy Alliance has yielded and wants to share power with the French! Our benefits are all going to be gone!"

Seeing the bewildered and tormented expressions on the faces of the citizens, the Cheka agents in the shadows smiled knowingly.

Both the Secret Service and Horn himself provided them with a wealth of experience in stirring up emotions.

In summary, it's about constantly manipulating emotions.

The market rallies and then breaks down, then rallies again after hitting rock bottom, repeating this cycle to alternate between good and bad news.

In the process of constant alternation, the public's psychological defenses will gradually collapse.

They will lose their balance, they will act impulsively, and then an idea will appear in everyone's mind.

"Whatever the outcome, please release the results as soon as possible!"

The unknown is the greatest fear, and fear to the extreme can either numb you or drive you mad!
People ran along the alleys and streets, embellishing the news they heard.

Rumors, like wild grass, sprawled through several artisan neighborhoods.

The fear of a stalemate, like the Sword of Damocles hanging overhead, made everyone restless and unable to eat or sleep properly.

However, none of them noticed that the drunkards and women had quietly disappeared from sight.

Finally, someone couldn't take it anymore and went berserk.

"Enough!" someone in the crowd suddenly shouted. "Whether we win or lose, let's go to Parliament Hill and find out! We can't just sit here and get ripped off!"

"Yes! To Parliament Hill!" someone immediately responded, grabbing hammers, chisels, and even saws from the ground and rushing out of the alley.

Torches lit up the night sky above Longbow Keep, illuminating the stars and waking the guild masters and citizens from their sweet dreams.

More and more helpers followed, and the alleyways converged into the streets, and the streets converged into the main road.

The crowd surged like a turbid flood along the street toward Parliament Hill.

Some of the helpers were pushed and shoved to the ground, but got up and kept running. Others had their shoes trampled off and ran barefoot on the stone road.

No matter how disheveled they were, their goal remained crystal clear—Capitol Hill!

Before long, a crowd of people carrying torches surged into the vicinity of Parliament Hill.

They were ragged and emaciated, yet they caused panic among the citizens outside Parliament Hill and the members of parliament inside.

However, they quickly calmed down, after all, the laborers had caused trouble more than once or twice.

The methods are nothing more than bribing them with money, beheading the ringleaders, and taking the rest of the troublemakers under their wing.

Before long, an old priest who used to mediate labor disputes came out.

"What do you want? We can discuss it. The councilors are discussing it now. Let's go back first." The old priest, dressed in pajamas, looked at them with a helpless expression.

"No, we want to meet them in person and explain the serious consequences!"

“Explaining the pros and cons may not yield any results.”

"If there's no result, keep arguing until there is a result!"

"Why bother?"

“They have the guts to kill us; we just want an answer.”

Upon seeing this, a guild leader dressed in a silk robe could no longer contain himself and rushed out, brandishing his riding whip: "You bunch of peasants dare to storm Parliament Hill? Don't you want to live?"

Upon seeing this leader, many helpers and laborers instinctively stopped in their tracks.

After all, they had all suffered from his whipping before, and it had long since become an unconscious reaction.

This is an extremely dangerous moment. If their momentum is truly broken, all their efforts will be wasted.

Farabour will not tolerate this situation.

He pushed through the crowd with his shoulder and snatched the riding whip from the leader as he arrogantly cursed.

"Hey, are you trying to fly to the heavens?!"

"Live? You've driven us to this point, how can we possibly survive?"

Raising his riding crop high, Farabour gritted his teeth and slammed his arm down, the crop instantly striking the leader's face.

"Snapped--"

"Ouch, you dare hit me? Fine, I'll remember this!"

The leader's lip was slapped so hard it cracked, and his lips trembled with anger.

He pointed at Farabauer's nose, about to call for help, when he was hurriedly tackled to the ground by the helpers who rushed over.

"I'll remember you, I'll remember you, I'll remember all of you!"

In the chaos, someone, blinded by rage, grabbed a stone from the roadside and smashed it on the leader's head with a "bang."

A pool of bright red blood instantly appeared on the ground. The leader scratched his head in bewilderment, not quite understanding what was happening. There really was blood!
The blood seemed to awaken the malice within the helpers, who immediately realized that if the foreman lived, it would mean endless trouble in the future.

The next second, the pushing and restraint turned into punches and kicks.

The once numb and cowardly laborers seemed to unleash all their anger at this moment.

We had to start work before dawn and weren't allowed to leave until the moon was high in the sky.

They work from morning till night without a moment's rest, and when they get sick from exhaustion, they are even fined.

The Holy Alliance has arrived. We finally had a lunch break and sick leave, but they still want to drive the Holy Alliance away.

You guys deserve to die!
Fists and feet rained down on the leader. At first, he could still shout, but later his shouts turned into begging for mercy.

Immediately afterwards, the pleas for mercy grew weaker and weaker, and when Farabour pulled the crowd away, all that remained on the ground was a mangled corpse.

"Who else dares to stop us?!" Farabour raised his blood-stained riding crop, his voice hoarse.

The elderly priest, along with a group of local scholars and elders, who had initially been about to step forward to dissuade them, all kept their mouths shut.

The crowd went even crazier.

An oligarch's son rode by on horseback. Just as he was about to reprimand him, the henchmen dragged him off his horse and beat him to death with their bare hands by the roadside.

Several citizens who tried to stop them were either pushed to the ground or hit on the head with a hammer and rendered unconscious.

Within fifteen minutes, seven or eight bodies lay on the outskirts of Parliament Hill.

There are stewards, guild leaders, and even relatives and friends of oligarchs.

Blood flowed down the stone pavement, staining the roadside weeds red, making the citizens hiding in the distance tremble.

They've gone mad, these lowly vagrant laborers have gone mad.

The stench of blood wafted in through the cracks in the door of the parliament chamber on Parliament Hill, and the members of parliament were deathly pale.

Valeris, who had been pacing back and forth, now shouted frantically, "It's out of control! Quickly send in the army to quell the unrest!"

“An army?” Tora sneered, leaning back in his chair. “The Guardians of the Faith are either farmers or laborers.”

They're all on strike outside the city with the farmers. Are you going to go and ask them to come?"

"Then, then please, nobles, send troops!" Gatz exclaimed anxiously. "There are still many old nobles on Dawn Island; they will surely be willing to help us!"

Bradak raised his eyes, his gaze icy: "Nobles? You dare let them bring troops into the city?"
If they seize power under the guise of suppressing mobs and then side with Leia, can you bear that responsibility?

"At that point, the Holy Alliance's regular army will really have to move. Do you want Dawn Island to fight another civil war?"

Valeris was trembling with rage, pointing his finger at Bradak and yelling, "You're being unreasonable! You're trying to drag us all to our deaths here!"

"You chose this yourselves, Speaker!"

Gatz flipped over the table, came to Bradak, and whispered, "Brother, we were a bit too harsh before."

But those are all things we do behind closed doors, things that are internal to us.

The situation is so urgent now that if the mob storms in, we're all doomed if anything doesn't go their way.

We're all on the same side. The councilor is wrong. We need to unite against outsiders.

"So, how about you take the position of future Speaker of the Federal Parliament on the Isle of Dawn in France?"

Bradak glanced at him sideways, said nothing, and simply looked out the window.

The shouts outside grew louder and louder, mixed with the sound of banging on the door.

He knew that the henchmen had begun attacking the oligarch's properties and mansions.

Seeing that Bradak remained silent, Gatz couldn't help but say, "Give me a word."

“Who’s on your side? Who’s one of your own?” Bradak glared at him. “If you vote to join Fran, fine, I’ll wait to die with you.”

"When the time comes, Lady Joan of Arc will arrive with her army to clean up the mess."

The air in the chamber of Parliament Hill seemed to freeze for a moment.

The councilors began to frequently leave their seats, gathering in small groups to discuss the matter quietly.

Mosley wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes constantly glancing at Valeris and Gatz.

Even within the Holy Alliance faction, there were whispers of concern.

A workshop owner councilor tugged at Bradak's sleeve: "If this continues, what if ambitious people infiltrate, or the Leias take the opportunity to attack? Wouldn't all our previous battles have been for nothing?"

We'll be doing business with them (the oligarchic congressmen) again in the future.

Bradak patted his hand, said nothing, and just stared at the sky outside the window.

The moon had climbed high, its silvery light spilling onto the roof of Parliament Hill, dispelling the anxiety within the chambers.

Footsteps rippled in the dappled moonlight. The councilors tried several times to find Bradak, but were stopped each time.

Everyone is waiting, waiting for a turning point.

Either someone has to compromise first, or an external force has to break the deadlock.

"Look! Outside!" the councilor suddenly shouted from the window, pointing outside.

Members of parliament rushed to the windows and saw a black and red flag slowly moving toward Parliament Hill in the distance.

Beneath the banner stood a troop of cavalry clad in silver armor.

The rhythmic sound of hooves stood out clearly amidst the chaotic shouts.

"It's the Saintess! Lady Joan of Arc has arrived!" Someone recognized the flag, their voice filled with excitement.

The helpers outside the window also saw the flag, and their shouts gradually subsided.

As if possessing some kind of innate magic, the workers immediately fell silent when Jeanne arrived on her chestnut warhorse.

Walking at the head of the procession, she reined in her horse, her voice clear and resonant, echoing throughout Parliament Hill.

"Believers of Dawn Island, I know your concerns and your demands."

I assure you that I will give you a satisfactory answer. I can even tell you right now that it is the right to vote and seats in parliament!

At state conferences, you are also able to make decisions on behalf of your groups.

This is a promise I'm making to you, but it will take time.

Therefore, please step outside the courtyard, restrain your behavior, and refrain from harming innocent people!

The cavalrymen immediately dispersed and faced the crowd.

The workers exchanged glances, and Farabour hesitated for a moment before stepping back first: "The Saintess has arrived, let's listen to her!"

The crowd gradually backed away, and the chaotic street slowly returned to order.

The citizens who had been hiding in the distance breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed to the ground.

The members of parliament in the chamber also sat down, their tense shoulders finally relaxing.

But they all knew in their hearts that this was only temporary, especially since Her Highness had already promised out the voting rights.

Many Franz supporters, especially those deeply affiliated Franz supporters in parliament, looked quite displeased.

It should be understood that the saintess alone could not persuade the councilors, nor could a riot alone subdue them.

But with Joan of Arc's name, the riots, and the current situation, many Francoist members of parliament will have no other choice.

The laborers and workers blocked the inner city's Parliament Hill, while the farmers blocked the outer city's walls and gates.

If we don't agree to their conditions, we won't be able to leave Longbow Keep, let alone get out of Parliament Hill.

Many staunch French-affiliated members of parliament are even considering whether they should just play along for now.

After returning to their own cities, they then seceded from the Dawn Island Federation and became part of the New Dawn Island Federation.

It's just another war, but they don't have to go to the battlefield anyway.

As for the members of the Holy Alliance, they were all smiles, and some even stood at the window cheering for the helpers.

With the arrival of the saintess, fairness will prevail.

When the Holy Maiden arrived, the Holy Alliance and the Holy Path Sect followed.

Just as everyone in the council chamber was displaying various expressions, the saint "Joan of Arc" finally arrived late.

(End of this chapter)