A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 553 Bullying the King

boom!

The cannons from the Valois National Guard fired a muffled thud; instead of solid or explosive shells, they were firing special hollow shells.

After flying to a certain altitude, the two tin shells disintegrated, and colorful leaflets floated out from inside.

The leaflets primarily urged surrender, resignation, and a republic, and were anti-imperialist, anti-war, and anti-deity. The National Guard's stance was clear: it's not that our army won't retreat, it's that your emperor refuses to negotiate.

On the one hand, the National Guard was under pressure from its supply lines, and on the other hand, it wanted to show its sincerity. It gradually retreated and basically returned to the front line at the beginning of the autumn offensive, only stationing itself in the northwest of the Black Forest, digging trenches and confronting the Imperial Army.

Of course, the standoff was still painful. Both sides temporarily lost the ability to break through each other's defenses and suffered from dampness, injuries, and severe cold in the trenches.

By January, there was no war between the three major powers on the continent; it was just two hypoglycemic patients holding on, with a schizophrenic patient lending a fist to each side.

During the stalemate, someone came up with a terrible idea: the National Guard began to wage psychological warfare against the Imperial Army. In fact, the Republic had always prided itself on its advanced system and frantically promoted its own slogans, with some success. However, after conquering the Low Countries and making it a sister republic, the whole world scoffed: "Is that all?"

Recently, Valois's propaganda machine seems to have suddenly had a breakthrough, changing its slogan to urging peace and confronting the evil god together, and even resorting to the most ruthless tactic:

That damned Southerner somehow got hold of some inside information about the Imperial Palace, discovering that the beautiful, naive Empress was actually maintaining a good friendship with a wicked monk, who was even allowed by the Emperor to enter and leave the palace.

They immediately put their Valois talents to use to fabricate stories, such as how the sorcerer monk was gifted with extraordinary abilities, able to pass cannons through his own body, or how the sorcerer monk had the ability to transform into a stallion to comfort the queen whenever she was in a bad mood. In short, they made Wilhelm II's hat greener and greener.

There's no need to mention other slogans; the soldiers on the front lines love these. They don't care if they're wild or not, they just care if they're energetic or not.

It's so powerful that some unscrupulous Istani guys are printing pirated copies and selling them all over the world.

Once these imperial soldiers entered a state of sanity, they started to wonder if this thing was real. If it was, then I was stuck in this ditch, flirting with the girls around me, while the emperor of the empire was out there having some kind of special play.

Can this be tolerated?

Discontent and unrest were already brewing, and even poorly printed popular novels could fuel the fire.

Realizing something was amiss, the Imperial Army issued a temporary decree: anyone still possessing leaflets distributed by the enemy or publications from Valois would be guilty of a serious crime, punishable by multiple offenses, including immediate execution by firing squad. The combined charges included cowardice, treason, and leaking secrets.

As for the empire's top brass, it's impossible to say they've done a good job. At this moment, they are beset by internal and external troubles. If former Chancellor Otto hadn't retired, he would have been so angry that he would have had a heart attack. And before he died, he would have to carry a gun in his left hand and a knife in his right hand from the Imperial Diet Building to the Imperial Army General Staff before he could close his eyes in peace.

But can we say they did a bad job? We can't wrong these people. Together, they built a near-perfect information system for the inexperienced new emperor. No matter how many great works like "Palace Secrets" and "Under the Empress's Skirt" were about to dominate the international bestseller lists, this wise and intelligent emperor didn't hear a word of it.

Perhaps he still had loyal and patriotic ministers around him, but that gentleman could not tolerate the emperor's actions at the time and resigned in anger:

The machines roared as the emperor and empress were in the palace's basement, where the long-term anti-magic device was operating.

They were watching Gregory's "witchcraft performance".

Gregory was to prepare a secret medicine for His Majesty in front of him, to make up for His Majesty's regret.

For safety reasons, he could only verbally state what materials he needed, which would then be collected by the palace guards and delivered to him. The materials would then be prepared on the spot in front of the anti-magic device and the emperor and empress. In addition to the two emperors, the onlookers included many guards and imperial spellcasters who were unable to cast spells.

This is a secret, enclosed underground space. Fortunately, the machines provide heat, preventing the space from being as cold and biting as the outside.

With machine interference, even ordinary magic potions are unlikely to succeed; chaotic environmental magic means the entire alchemy process is out of control.

However, the demonic monk was at ease, patiently waiting for the materials to be prepared—nothing more than various plants, some blood, and rare mineral powder.

The Queen held tightly to the Emperor's right hand—William never allowed anyone to touch his left arm. Perhaps not again, the Queen thought hopefully, then looked with the same gaze at Gregory, who was diligently preparing the medicine.

The monk remained calm and composed, slowly grinding the herbs and beginning the brewing process.

The brass ladle stirred the swirls in the crucible, the spiral of the medicinal soup making the audience feel somewhat weary. Especially when Gregory poured the ground crystal powder into the pot, the shimmering traces on the surface of the solution made the emperor's eyelids begin to droop.

Gregory's long, slender fingers stirred and stirred, until finally stopping sometime later.

At this moment, everyone except him had fallen into a deep sleep, and the Empress and Emperor lay slumped on the soft chairs behind them.

The monk smiled with satisfaction, took out a small bottle of smelling salts, and held it under the guard captain's nostrils. A closer look would reveal that the man was the same Mother Goddess follower who had met Gregory earlier.

"She's really asleep."

"There are many hypnotic drugs available, and not all of them require supernatural powers to achieve the desired effect; many people forget this."

"Then why can't you be hypnotized?"

"The question should be why you're still hypnotized?" Gregory's deep, dark eyes stared intently at the captain, making him feel unprecedented pressure. The monk's thin, bloodless lips parted: "It means you're not devout enough, and you haven't received enough of your mother's grace."

Fortunately, he didn't pursue the matter further: "Alright, get to work quickly."

"Do we really have to do this? But only the technicians know how to start the machine; the best I can do is try to stop it."

"Go for it! Hurry up, we don't have much time."

Within the dream-filled space, all the clocks on the anti-magic device began to stop, and the core's rotation slowed more and more. Before it had completely stopped, Gregory was already able to unleash his power.

He began the ritual, not with the prepared materials, but by opening his thin monk's robe and plunging a knife into his abdomen. He vomited a thick, dark liquid, which dripped into a crucible.

After doing all this, he slowly walked to the device. He didn't study its structure; he simply placed his hand on it, and the core slowly began to resume its rotation speed.

After doing all this, he reached out his long, pale hand to the Empress.

"Am I asleep?" William felt that he had closed his eyes completely for a moment. But now he was standing, in the same posture as everyone else.

Her questioning gaze shifted to the face of the person beside her, and the Empress smiled sweetly: "No, Your Majesty. You must be a little tired, but you have stood here so steadfastly."

"That's good." William was pleased to find that he hadn't lost his composure.

"Your Majesty, the medicine has been prepared."

"Isn't it just mixing together a bunch of random ingredients? Does it really work?" The emperor waved his hand skeptically, and the guards brought out two cages, one containing a rabbit and the other a dog.

(End of this chapter)