When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1159 The Runaway Horses: The Runaway Horses (Two Chapters Combined)

Before the confetti from the starting gun even hit the ground, Heberle's racing chariot had already shot off like an arrow.

While the clockwork locomotive was still humming like a giant beast, the sound of the horse neighing had already gone nearly ten meters away.

"Keep going, kids!"

Heberle shook the reins, and eight identical brown-haired Franzian warhorses broke through the stagnant air and galloped forward.

The racing carriage didn't have rearview mirrors, but Heberle could still feel that he had already left the clockwork motorcycle far behind.

The giant beast's panting had already faded into the distance.

No way, no way, it can't have failed at the crucial moment and not even be able to start up, can it?

Hiberle couldn't help but shout joyfully, "Ee! Ha!"

The sound of horses' hooves clattering quickly and frequently, and the pebbles they kicked up hit the wooden fence by the roadside with a soft crackling sound.

The audience on both sides gasped, some turning to the side, others using their arms to block the stones and dust.

By the time they lowered their hands, the audience could no longer see the shadow of the Hebrew carriage.

Only then, amidst a clanging and rattling sound, did the steel giant, the clockwork locomotive, slowly and steadily pass by.

"What are you doing?"

"Hurry up, everyone! They've overtaken you by so much!"

"Oh no, oh no, I bought a ticket to gamble in France!"

"Hurry up, hurry up."

The passengers, waving their betting tickets, cursed at the wind-up locomotive, wishing they could push it themselves.

Those who bet on the chariot to win laughed loudly.

This kind of betting is not allowed in the Holy Alliance; it is illegal. Only lotteries are permitted.

These travelers or believers either bought their tickets themselves in Fran or Leia, or they asked someone else to buy them for them.

"Bravo!" Watching Heberle's superb carriage skills, Spongi couldn't help but stand up and applaud loudly.

As for the clockwork motorcycle on the other side, it is much faster than at the beginning, but the problem is how to catch up with such a big gap in the middle?

The secret knights of Fran, hidden among the crowd, breathed a sigh of relief.

Originally, the blueprints were burned, the lathe was destroyed, and the final locomotive and carriage experiment could not be completed. Ten days would not give the Holy Alliance's clockwork locomotive another chance to be tested.

Being able to embark on this journey is already a blessing from the Holy Father; where is there a truly foolproof method?

The Fran spies were delighted, but the believers of the Holy Alliance were dejected.

He was just holding up a little flag that said "Motorcycles will win," but now the flag is drooping in his hand, and his mouth, eyebrows, and eyes are all drooping.

Many believers dared not even look. They covered their eyes, peeking through their fingers from time to time, then immediately closing them again.

They were afraid that the motorcycle would fail miserably, leading "Criston and Eugénie" down a tragic path.

A young monk bit his lip and muttered under his breath, "Why is it so slow... Didn't Master Leonardo say it would be fast?"

Someone nearby muttered, "Could it be that the parts weren't installed correctly? Axent just said..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by another burst of cheers, because everyone could see a blue, meteor-like column of smoke rising into the sky first.

Since five li is not a short distance, there were signal guns on both sides of the road every li.

Whoever passes by first, for example, a carriage, will raise a blue smoke column, and vice versa, a red smoke column will be raised. This way, even if the view is obstructed, you can still tell who is in the lead.

So the carriage was indeed leading? Many monks impatiently stood on tiptoe, trying to get a better look.

Instead, a young monk suddenly pointed to the column of smoke rising after the blue one and said, "That's not right, these two columns of smoke are rising at a closer time than I expected?"

The eyes of the merchants who regularly traded horses in Norn gradually changed.

"Look, look at Heberle's horses!"

The crowd looked in the direction he pointed and saw that Heberle's warhorse was violently spewing white steam from its nostrils.

The hooves were still moving quickly, but with less force than before, and even the mane on the horse's back drooped a little.

On the other hand, the motorcycle's originally slow "clanging" rhythm became increasingly frequent, like raindrops hitting sheet metal.

A faint white vapor began to emerge from the spring chamber at the front of the car; it was the evaporating mercury damping fluid.

The triangular, cone-shaped locomotive cut through the silky air, and the sound of the wheels rolling over the rails changed from a "rustling" to a "squeaking," occasionally bursting into a series of sparks.

"Holy Father, why is this wind-up locomotive still braking?" a coachman couldn't help but complain.

Horse-drawn trains were not uncommon in the Holy Union, and the coachmen were well aware of what it meant when the wheels sparked.

At this point, why are you still applying the brakes? Shouldn't you continue accelerating?

Before the question could be uttered, a gust of wind swept by.

For some reason, the gust of wind suddenly started blowing from their sides and behind, as if someone was grabbing their collars and pulling them inwards.

Even the straw hats of the audience were swept up by the strong wind and flew into the sky.

"Wait a minute, how could it be so fast?"

"The locomotive is accelerating!" someone shouted.

Before anyone knew it, the wind-up locomotive, moving at a leisurely pace, had gradually approached the carriage in front.

Are you kidding me?
Spongi, who had just sat down, sat up again. Hadn't he just secured the victory? How did things go wrong again?
Is it possible to die quickly or live a quick death in one go? This is just too agonizing!

"Boom!"

The signal smoke grenade rose again, less than a second later.

"Give me the binoculars, quick!"

He snatched the binoculars from the steward's hand, and the Great King, his eyes somewhat cloudy, peered out at the racetrack.

The locomotive's shadow was gradually drawing closer to that of the horse-drawn carriage.

From lagging behind by two car lengths, to one car length, and then to half a car length, Hiberle's body visibly stiffened and trembled.

"What's going on? How can this iron lump accelerate?!" Spongi gripped the binoculars tightly. "Isn't he supposed to be the Empire's number one driver? How can this big iron lump lose?"

The engineers and dwarf craftsmen on the observation deck had already stood up, even risking falling, and stood on the railing.

Leonardo's face was sallow, yet tinged with a slight blush.

How beautiful! Chaotic forces transform into orderly forces, and scrap metal becomes hard steel and flesh.

The dwarf craftsmen nearby muttered, "Faster...faster...don't let us down!"

As the carriage and the locomotive drew closer, the crowd beside the track quieted down.

The earlier jeers had subsided, leaving only the sound of horses' hooves and the clanging of motorcycles.

Suddenly, a gambler who had bet on a motorcycle couldn't help but shout, "Hurry! Catch it!"

I don't know if he was shouting to the motorcycle or to the warhorse.

This shout was like lighting a fuse. The people escorting the locomotive shouted back, "Locomotive, go faster!" The people escorting the horse-drawn carriages got anxious and yelled at the top of their lungs, "Heberle, be more spirited! Don't embarrass yourselves!"

The shouts from both sides mingled together, louder than the earlier jeering, shaking the leaves of the trees.

Sweat streamed down his face, and Hibernate realized something was wrong.

He could feel the wind behind him getting stronger and stronger, and the clanging of the motorcycle was almost catching up with the sound of the horses' hooves.

In his spare time, he glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that the brass-colored locomotive was almost touching the rear wheel of the carriage.

Heber was so terrified he almost fell off the carriage on the spot, and instinctively lashed out with his whip.

"drive!"

The warhorse neighed and picked up speed a bit more, but after only a few steps, it was clearly panting more heavily, and the rhythm of its hooves began to become erratic.

Hiberre immediately regretted it. If this were a normal confrontation with other pilots, this small mistake wouldn't be a big deal.

After all, people make mistakes, and so do horses. If everyone makes mistakes, it's as if no one makes any mistakes.

But now he is facing off against a clockwork motorcycle that makes almost no mistakes!
The consequences of his lash soon became apparent.

"They're advancing side by side!" someone shouted.

With his eyes glued to the track, Sponge squeezed the lookout door so hard it creaked.

Locomotives and horse-drawn carriages ran side by side on the track, the locomotives' drive shafts spinning rapidly, showing no sign of stopping or getting tired.

Looking at the carriage again, the previously stable position began to sway, and Heberle's body also tilted to one side.

Having ridden horses for many years, Heberle naturally knew that the warhorse was about to give out.

In a normal match, he would probably slow down to look for opportunities.

But faced with a clockwork locomotive that leaves no room for error, he absolutely could not do that.

We need to speed things up; we have no choice but to keep pushing forward!

Cold sweat beaded on Sibangqi's forehead.

He thought of the pocket money he had pawned, and the scene of his daughter being with Harkin. He was anxious and panicked, wishing he could rush up and help Heberle crack the whip.

But it didn't work.

In the final stretch, the locomotive gradually overtook the horse-drawn carriage, from half a carriage length, to a full carriage length, and then to two carriage lengths.

The warhorse was completely exhausted; the sound of its hooves pounding the ground grew slower and slower, and even its tail drooped down. Fifty meters!
Twenty meters!
Five meters!

Three meters!

Wails and cheers are both part of the finish line in this race.

Crushing over SpongeBridge, crushing over Axent, crushing over Secret Knights, crushing over the clockwork motorcycles of countless naysayers—

Laden with flowers and waving banners bearing the five slogans of the Holy Alliance, the wind-up motorcycle, with the force of thunder and lightning, crossed the finish line with dignity.

"Drip-"

With the horn blaring, the motorcycle glided forward for quite a distance before gradually coming to a stop.

Judging from his effortless manner, it was as if he had just finished some trivial stroll.

The entire park fell silent; even the birds had stopped chirping.

However, the next moment, a cacophony of sounds like the ocean waves filled people's ears.

"My entire fortune!"

"Hiblay, how are you going to pay back what you owe me with your purse?"

"We won! The motorcycles won!"

"Alas--"

Loud laughter and sobbing instantly ripped the roof off.

Countless hats were thrown into the air, and they hugged each other and spun around.

This time, the passengers who had previously egged them on were quiet. Some lowered their heads and shrank back into the crowd, while others pretended to admire the scenery, not daring to utter a sound.

Leonardo breathed a long sigh of relief. His companions shook his shoulders, laughing uncontrollably, "It worked! It really worked!"

The motorcycle sped across the finish line amidst a shower of colorful ribbons and flowers. Streamers hung from the wind-up spring on the front of the motorcycle, and gold dust fell on the windows, like a layer of scattered gold.

Almost two seconds later, Heberle's carriage finally crossed the finish line, panting heavily.

The moment the warhorse stopped, Hiberrell nearly collapsed to his knees. He quickly jumped off the chariot, grabbed the horse's neck, and turned as pale as a sheet.

On the observation deck, Spencer stepped back and tried to sit down in a seat.

But before he could take two steps back, his legs buckled and he almost fell to the ground.

Fortunately, a pair of warm, large hands supported his arm and helped him up.

"Thank you...Chief Madeleine?"

"Hehehe, Your Majesty, you're getting old. You need to stand and sit up straight, or you might accidentally fall down and have a hard time getting up."

He understood what Madeleine meant. His Majesty Spencer sat in his chair, his face shifting between sorrow and laughter, for a long time.

When he looked up again, he found that not only on the observation deck, but also in the audience seats, everyone's eyes were fixed on him.

He stood there stunned for a long time before letting out a bitter laugh, his voice a little hoarse: "I admit defeat."

The words weren't loud, but by sheer coincidence, a monk with a megaphone nearby happened to pass by, and so—

"You have to accept the consequences of your bet!"

The sound traveled on the wind, reaching every corner of the observation deck and the racetrack.

The tourists watching the show immediately cheered, some whistling, some clapping, making it even more lively than before.

But Theodora and Halkin only found it noisy.

They were still hiding in the shadow of Elju, and Madeleine had already signaled to them twice.

The first time was when the motorcycle crossed the finish line, and the second time was when Sibangqi said "I admit defeat," but neither of them moved.

Theodora clutched her skirt, her toes digging into the ground: "Does it have to be now? There are so many people..."

Halkin touched the back of his neck, a little flustered: "Wait a little longer? Maybe Madeleine will forget..."

Unfortunately, Madeleine didn't forget.

He had already guessed that the two would dawdle, so he simply waved his hand, and dozens of monks in plain clothes on both sides immediately mingled into the cheering crowd and squeezed towards Elju.

They pretended to be excited spectators, pushing and shoving forward, unknowingly squeezing Theodora and Halkin into the middle.

"Hey, hey, hey."

Harkin wanted to back away, but someone behind him was pushing him forward. Like a small boat in the waves, he was involuntarily drawn towards Theodora.

Theodora was also jostled and almost bumped into Halkin. She tried to grab onto a nearby pillar, but was pushed forward by others.

"Stop crowding!"

Someone in the crowd, with sharp eyes, pointed at them and shouted, "Isn't that Christon and Eugénie?!"

These words spread like wildfire.

Although they had never seen each other's faces, who else could it be but Crizon and Eugénie, a noblewoman and a burly young dwarf?

"It's them! It's really them!"

Those who were interested immediately raised their hands and waved in their direction, while the tourists who had come for Christon and Eugénie all crowded into the stands on their side.

At this point, a kiss was out of the question.

Theodora closed her eyes resignedly and squatted down.

As Theodora drew closer, Halkin took a deep breath and reached out to support her shoulder.

He brought his face close, and their lips touched briefly before parting, just a fleeting moment, as quick as a dragonfly skimming the water.

The cheers from the crowd grew louder; people blew hoops and banged on the railings, shouting, "One more!"

Theodora's face instantly turned bright red. Just as she was about to back away, she suddenly heard a scream from the observation deck: "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, what's wrong? What are you doing, Your Majesty?"

Her heart tightened, and she looked up abruptly.

Spongi clutched his chest and slumped into a chair.

The butler was in a panic, while the doctor had already rushed over with his medicine kit.

"Papa!" Theodora shouted, breaking free from the crowd and running towards the observation deck, with Harkin quickly following behind.

This dramatic scene was being witnessed by several painters from the Holy Alliance.

They immediately set up their drawing boards and began to jot down notes with lightning speed.

The fallen king, the kissing noblewoman and dwarf, and the cheering crowd, all against a backdrop of brass-colored motorcycles.

"Let's call it 'Lord Spongi at the Holy Alliance Motorcycle Park,' it's sure to be a hit in the empire!"

Before the chaos on the observation deck had subsided, Horn suddenly coughed.

The sound wasn't loud, but it traveled far thanks to the amplified voice of the monks. The noisy crowd gradually quieted down, and everyone looked at him.

Even the butler who was frantically supporting Si Bangqi couldn't help but look up.

Horn walked to the center of the observation deck, his gaze sweeping over the entire area, and said in a steady voice: "Ladies and gentlemen, the outcome of today's Galloping Horse Challenge is already obvious."

But what I want to say is—this is not the end, nor even the beginning, much less the beginning of the end, but the beginning of the beginning.

Standing on the high platform, he pointed to the locomotive: "You all can see the speed of this locomotive. It can travel 400 li a day and carry 20 tons of goods, which is more than ten horse-drawn carriages."

It doesn't need to be fed or rested; as long as it's wound up, it can run indefinitely.

People in the crowd nodded in agreement, especially the traveling merchants, whose eyes had already lit up.

No need to feed the horses or let them rest, which means transportation costs can be reduced by half!
Horn continued, "We plan to carve out Vicente Road and use wind-up locomotives to connect the Norn Castles on the east side of the Dragonsleigh Mountains."

It used to take two months by sea, but now it will only take two weeks by motorcycle!

From two months to two weeks, even someone who doesn't understand business can see how much profit is involved.

"Two weeks?" These words immediately caused an uproar among the merchants. "Your Majesty! You didn't slip up, did you?"

Instead of answering directly, Horn smiled and said, "To give everyone a clearer picture of the locomotive's value, we've decided to issue railway stock."

Specific details will be published in Pravda later.

The businessmen became even more anxious, constantly asking "How do I buy stocks?" and "How many can I buy?"

Horn waved his hand and raised his voice: "Everyone, no need to rush, we can discuss this issue later."

The first official trip of the Father's Hand No. 5 was from here to the exhibition area.

Those who want to experience it can hop on board now!

The crowd immediately surged toward the locomotive, with the merchants running the fastest, eager to experience this iron behemoth that could outrun a horse-drawn carriage.

This is a deal worth millions of pounds!
On the other side, after being rescued, Si Bangqi was helped to sit up by the doctor, his face still a little pale.

He watched the crowd surge towards the motorcycles, then glanced at Theodora running towards him, and gave a wry smile: "Never mind..."

Theodora supported his arm: "Papa, are you alright?"

Sibangqi shook his head, looked at the motorcycle in the distance, and said with a touch of emotion, "It's nothing... I just didn't expect this..."

He paused, then glanced at Halkin: "You two... don't scare me like that again."

The sun was shining brightly on the viewing platform, and the colorful ribbons were still fluttering in the wind.

The clanging of the locomotives rang out again, carrying the first group of curious tourists toward the exhibition area.

(End of this chapter)