On the morning after Prince Colin's departure, the entire Holy City was steeped in a subtle unrest composed of both anticipation and uncertainty.
Not because of Prince Colin.
Not entirely because of the Holy Temple Knight Order.
But because of a suddenly popular novel—"The Odyssey of Baron Kosia."
The citizens of the Holy City had never encountered such an intriguing "farming literature," and it also mixed in the love and hate among nobles that they usually couldn't touch. They eagerly awaited the next chapter, yet feared it would end at the most exciting part, just like before.
When the newsboys delivered the fresh issue of the "New World Newspaper," still slling of ink, to every corner of the Holy City, it was snatched up in an instant by the eagerly awaiting citizens.
Their fervor resembled those suffering a nicotine fit.
Unsurprisingly, the "New World Newspaper" sales hit a new high once again. The content published in the newspaper stirred up a tempestuous wave like a depth charge thrown into a lake!
In the latest chapter of the story, the protagonist, Ticky Cosia, after having set up a makeshift shelter, nostalgically recalled during a stormy night, his ancestral land located in the White Dew District, back in the Imperial holand.
With delicate and emotional strokes, he described details known only to his family: such as the century-old oak tree on the east side of the estate, split by lightning yet still stubbornly growing; or the trio of giant rocks on the farm hill, aligned into a peculiar triangle and used by his ancestors as boundary markers.
On the surface, these words expressed a wanderer's endless longing for his holand, but every Devor Baron faction mber who read these details and knew the inside story couldn't help but break into a cold sweat.
It wasn't just an expression of emotion.
In Baron Cosia's words, there was a quiet yet clear declaration to the Holy City of the Cosia family's indisputable legal ownership of that land.
He was informing those watching his every move, those afraid to stand against him due to Prince Colin's influence.
He had not forgotten.
The reckoning had only just begun.
In this chapter, Baron Cosia concluded with a passionate realization, simultaneously revealing his ambition, unannounced since his return to the Holy City—
"...I don't hate the captain who tricked onboard. That guy is an undeniable fool, a slave captured by money, a pitiable soul devoid of faith. He deserves every insult. But it is Saint Sis who will judge him, not I. When I return to shore, I will forcefully throw gold coins at his chest and tell him we are even."
"Neither do I hate the servant who incited to rise. He took money, true, but if not disappointed in the Cosia family, he, who had worked on the estate for generations, would not have chosen betrayal."
"I want to tell those who still harbor guilt and goodness, Baron Cosia does not hate them. Apart from uncompromising principles, there is nothing that cannot be forgiven."
"On the stormy night, I made a decision—"
"Since the Divine did not let perish at sea, it must be because I carry a mission that must be completed. I will continue along my path, returning whence I ca, to reclaim the honor and land that are rightfully mine, and send those with malicious intent to harm to hell, with the demon they serve."
"In a trance, I heard Her whisper before —"
"'Every penny and every piece of land the devil's minions swindled from you, the Holy Light will retrieve for you.'"
"'This is my promise to you.'"
The 'determination for revenge' and the 'Divine apparition seen in a trance' tugged at the heartstrings of the Holy City citizens.
What was infuriating, however, was that this short and powerless segnt ended there again.
Besides the novel serialized on the second page, this issue of the "New World Newspaper" also published a more sensational news story.
It lay quietly like a ti bomb on the newspaper's third page—
"The Million Gold Coin Predicant: Prince Colin's Goodwill and the Conservatism of the Imperial Bank."
The article, with a compassionate tone, "objectively" reported that the "Dantes Group" had applied for a million-gold coin loan to develop the White Dew District from the Imperial Royal Bank but was ultimately rejected.
It cleverly packaged the event into a tragic tale of a "reforr with a heart for his holand and a spirit of determination" being ruthlessly obstructed by the "rigid rules and conservative thinking of the old financial system."
At the end of the article, the author expressed "benevolent" concerns about the future of White Dew District's investnt prospects, suggesting that if even soone as esteed and generous as Prince Colin could not smoothly secure financing, how could other investors maintain confidence?
"—It is well-known that the banks in the Holy City only loan money to those who need it least, yet are blind to those who truly need financial turnover. Indeed, the lender is not Prince Colin himself, and the Imperial Royal Bank has reasons to decline approval. Yet everyone knows who stands behind Sir Dantes, and everyone knows how optimistic Prince Colin is about White Dew District's developnt."
This heavy news was certainly not unnoticed by other papers.
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