Rain.
It thrives in splendor.
It falls in anxiety.
As if the heavens themselves were manipulating the puppet strings of humanity, stabbing them into the Red Dust Lake of the Qianhe Domain, stirring up spray after spray of blood.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, the downpour struck the clock.
Refugees staggered in droves from the distance, their feet reflecting the sunset.
Beneath the same dark cloud, the newly built “Hope Town” was now brimming with laughter and excitement.
The makeshift tents stretched like snakes across the camp, and beneath their bellies were faces whispering with hope.
In the morning, the working men brought news—twelve villages were being merged, renamed completely, and now called “Hope Town”.
The idle disaster victims gossiped, but few cared; most were indifferent.
After all, whether it was a town or a village, people only gathered if they could scrape together food and earn money.
Without food or money, even neighbors of centuries would scatter as refugees.
The word “survive” was always that arduous.
Later, everyone heard that with the founding of the town, a festival feast would be held, inviting all townspeople to eat a hearty meal, even with dishes fried in oil—everyone erupted with excitement, praising the transformation into a town, saying a town meant real food.
Along with this, the Brave’s Prestige of Jon soared to its peak among the townspeople.
“Killing Demon King Ria was well done! He must have made a fortune in the Demon Realm; only such a generous hero would not just save us, but also feed us!”
…A certain unlucky Demon King became an invisible backdrop of merit.
Jon had no idea how heated the camp’s atmosphere became when the food was distributed.
He was dragging Margaret, who had been caught trying to escape, past the crowded, shabby kitchen when suddenly, a security guard recognized him.
“Brave Sir!”
He called out.
No one knew who knelt first, but by the time Jon reacted, a whole crowd had already dropped to their knees.
Jon first froze, then his face burned red in embarrassment.
He didn’t even know what this feeling was, but the scene made him uncomfortable and confused, as if a cherished treasure was being tossed carelessly to the ground.
Yet he seemed to have no reason to feel disappointed.
An overwhelming sense of confusion welled up from within, leaving him helpless as he reached out, stammering,
“What are you doing, get up, don’t do this.”
The young security guard chuckled.
“Everyone’s just showing respect to you, Sir.”
Jon waved his hands anxiously.
“Before I’m a ‘Brave,’ I’m just an ordinary citizen of the Empire, same as all of you. There is no distinction of status between us.”
[Between every person in this world, there shouldn’t be any difference in rank, either.]
A sentence suddenly rose in his heart, leaving him momentarily dazed.
The young guard smiled brightly, slapping his knees, his brows dancing with amusement.
“Brave Sir, we’ve even knelt to those Dog Officials. What’s wrong with kneeling to you? If a single kneel could guarantee oily meals every day, people would line up all the way to the Imperial Capital just to give up their knees.”
“But I didn’t do this to make you kneel…”
Jon said awkwardly.
He couldn’t express the emotions inside him, and they were so blurred that even he didn’t understand them.
He only knew—this was wrong.
This was something he didn’t want to see.
He could only try his best to stop it.
Fortunately, the young guard finally noticed Jon’s discomfort.
He waved to the villagers behind him.
“Get up, everyone, get up! The Brave Sir doesn’t like this!”
Everyone patted off the mud and stood, busying themselves again, chatting and laughing as they served food.
The relaxed atmosphere finally cleared Jon’s mind.
Margaret kept her face covered the whole time, terrified that these townspeople would recognize her and ruin her lifetime of dignity.
Suddenly, she felt deep regret.
If she’d known things would end up like this, she would never have used the disaster victims as part of her scheme…
She thought she should have used a more cunning plan against the Brave, like Annana’s “Escape Plan” during the first night.
That method seemed much better.
After all, even if such a plan failed, Jon would at most spank her, not leave her so utterly humiliated like today.
To Margaret—though physical pain was hard to endure, spiritual torment was far more devastating.
“Apologizing to disaster victims”—this was without a doubt the darkest, lowest day of her life.
“Can you not trample my dignity like this?”
Margaret looked miserable.
“I’m willing to pay out of my own pocket and compensate each person here with a gold coin.”
“No. You almost got them killed. You must admit your mistake.”
“But I think, compared to an apology, they’d rather have a gold coin.”
Jon was suddenly at a loss for words.
After a long moment, he still shook his head firmly.
If money could offset punishment, then as the richest people in the world, wouldn’t the royal family prove the Princess’s arrogant claim—born noble, entitled to do as they please?
Jon picked up the Princess and left the training ground.
In the distance, the “Stage” was already set, and four or five hundred people had gathered under the tents.
A “trial” like this couldn’t be shown to all three thousand; it was impossible to build such a large tent, and most disaster victims were indifferent to Lord Rossi’s crimes, more interested in grabbing an extra bowl of food.
Those present were mostly families who had resisted with Joey and been beaten or injured when the tax officers came to extort them, or others who had suffered under Lord Rossi’s rule, lost their fortunes, or even lost loved ones.
They harbored real hatred for the lord, sitting in the audience filled with righteous anger, wishing they could tear Lord Rossi apart.
As the focus of this hatred—Lord Rossi himself stood with remarkable composure at the center of the high platform, reviewing the account books one last time.
Glancing sideways at the Brave, the corners of his mouth curled up.
His eyes were colder than warm as he let out a sneer, sweeping the crowd as if carelessly.
“Brave, are you ready?”
Behind the Brave, Yuna, who had been watching with interest, suddenly felt a chill of foreboding.
Lord Rossi’s gaze had paused on her for a moment.
Years of political instinct screamed at her—
This damned dog is about to cause big trouble today!
“Jon,”
Yuna whispered in warning,
“This guy’s clearly up to no good. He’s probably planning to say something to slander everyone. Why don’t we just drag him away and kill him now, let him suffocate without ever getting the words out?”
Jon replied,
“Even if he’s a criminal, we have to give him a chance to defend himself. If he tries to smear others, I’ll investigate and clear their names.”
“Teacher Jonathan once taught me a saying—‘A straight body does not fear a crooked shadow.’ I think this is what it means.”
“Hey…”
Yuna looked helpless.
—Easy for you to say.
There’s no one in the Empire with a straight body!
Everyone is scheming for money, greedily and reluctantly.
For themselves, for those below, for those above.
Those in low positions want to please their betters and climb higher.
Those in high positions must consider their subordinates’ interests and get things done with whatever funds are available.
As husbands and fathers, people hope to provide for wives and children.
As children, they want their parents to be happy.
Everyone tacitly understands this mutual balance.
How could a single phrase, “straight body or not,” possibly judge it all?
But the next second—
The thing Yuna feared most happened anyway.
“Brave, have you ever heard a saying long passed around the Imperial Capital?”
Lord Rossi spoke slowly, a chill in his throat wetter than autumn rain.
“In the Empire, it is said there are three beasts that feed on humans and grow fat.”
“One is the Bear. One is the Eagle. The other is the Deer, which appears harmless but devours people unseen.”
“‘Bear’ refers to the regional military lords, including borderland nobles with private armies and generals whose factions permeate the military.”
“‘Eagle’ is Grandmaster Anthony, also called the Empire’s chief traitor, despised and flattered by all.”
“As for the ‘Deer’…”
“Look, that’s the one standing behind you.”
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