"The will of the Radiant Cross shines in the starry sky, the curtain of rain falling from heaven washes away the sins of all, the departed sages cannot sleep, and the crisis of the kingdom is at hand—it is now, it is now! Let His Majesty Horace, surrounded by mediocrity and treachery, truly see the will of the gods, the will of the kingdom, and let the Duke of Berion Marcherus bring us a truly powerful kingdom!"

Sir Anderson, the Flag Commander of the Garrison Regiment, standing in the rain, recited aloud the verses written on the parchment in his hand word by word - although he was not sure whether it was a poem or not, but he was still full of enthusiasm and excitement - he had never imagined that he, a small flag commander, would have the opportunity to become the most crucial figure in such a momentous event!

When the Lord found him, those touching words still surround his ears - he will make a piece of history, his name will be remembered by future generations, and even Lord Berion will become the future supreme of the kingdom because of his "righteous deeds", all of which are forged by his own hands!

“...... The will of the Radiant Cross shines on you, and this is definitely not a rebellion or anything like that, but a feat recognized by the Radiant Cross!"

“...... Raise your sword, knight of Turin, the future of the kingdom needs to be forged together, and the throne of kings is forged by the swords of all of us!"

“...... This is just the beginning, and when Lord Berion truly becomes the supreme of the kingdom, we will completely change the world - Dominica, the heretics of the East, the monsters of the Vast Lands, the snow-capped mountains of the north, the islands of Lund...... The whole world will become the territory of the Kingdom of Turin, and the World Sea will be our inner lake!"

Crazy slogans called all these low-born low-ranking nobles - like Anderson, the only ones who were willing to seek a position in the garrison were the last sons and illegitimate children, or the children of declining families. He failed to enter the House of Representatives, nor did he enter the army, and became a knight of the royal family. Not to mention the Knights of the Sacred Tree, the Garrison Legion is their only option.

Poverty makes them lose their dignity, family backgrounds make them unwilling to bow their heads - these strong and fragile guys need only a little respect, someone they can be convinced to follow. They are willing to put that man in the supreme position!

They don't know that they're just being used, or that they don't care too much if they do—all they need is a sense of their presence, a sense of respect.

Dozens of low-ranking nobles, a whole half of the garrison legion, such a huge number of thousands, shouted excitedly in the direction of the palace, and did not even meet decent resistance.

The nobles hiding in their homes did not dare to provoke these fellows, and the soldiers of the Legion, who were supposed to stop the resistance, were not willing to do anything to their original brethren. In this way, the overwhelming "rebel army" arrived at the square outside the gate of the palace unimpeded, and still did not change its incomparable joy!

All the nobles of the whole hill of Marcherus watched this riot that could be called a "rebellion", and the fanatical thugs marched to the top of the hill in a neat procession, in a drizzle, as if they were waiting for a guard of honor, without the tension and fear of a traitor.

Standing in the square, Green Turn, looked coldly at the marching army at the foot of the mountain, his sharp knight's sword in his hand. The icy rain kept falling on his body, soaking his whole body, but it still couldn't make the commander's expression tremble for half a minute.

The guards around him weren't in such a good mood. One by one, their faces were unbearable, and even the right hand holding the spear was trembling slightly, and they turned to the commander behind him with a hesitant expression: "Lord Greene Turn, we really, really want to ...... the brethren."

"Brother, what brother?" Green sneered, his eyes without even the slightest emotion. Reflecting the half of the soldiers of the "Garrison Legion" who were still chanting slogans: "They are now rebels, they are people who have betrayed their oath, they want to hold His Majesty Horace hostage and force His Majesty to make the decisions they want to see - isn't that enough?!"

Roaring loudly, Green Turney got on his horse and galloped back and forth in front of the rainy square. Angry eyes looked at each of the soldiers who came with him, looking at their hesitant eyes: "I know what you are thinking, because I don't want to see this happen - all of you are my brothers, and killing your own brother is one of the least tolerated things in the world by the Radiant Cross, but today, we have no choice!"

"Many of you are from Dongcheng - beggars, vagabonds, strangers, illegitimate children...... We need not shy away from these things today, we are from ordinary backgrounds, we are from humble backgrounds! Our existence is ignored by men, just like the brethren who have betrayed their oath at the foot of the mountain, but today, we lowly people will become the first wall of His Majesty Horace, and if there is no noble lord of illustrious birth willing to stand up, let us, the untouchables whom they despise, defend our beloved Majesty!"

"Legion, remember the oath you took to defend His Majesty King Horace!" the blade of the sword rose in the rain, and Greene Turn, almost with all his might, shouted: "Legion array, long live the King!"

"Long Live the King - !!!"

Hesitation, hesitation, hesitation...... But when the slogan was shouted, the guards, led by the centurions, raised the swallowtail flags and formed a horizontal array to block the stairs behind the square, and behind the fish-scale shield wall, rows of spears were erected, and the cold tips of the spears swayed slightly in the rain curtain.

Grimm, who was finally relieved, was not in the mood to be idle, and dragged Edward to a place where no one was around: "The Knights of the Sacred Tree are rushing towards this side, but they need time, and I have heard that there seem to be signs of riots in the East City area, so I am afraid that they cannot be expected to arrive in time." ”

"Then retreat to the palace, there is no way that these rebels will break the palace - there are not enough of them, and there are no siege weapons. Edward shook his head: "Only five or six hundred-man teams can't stop them at all, as long as the first person falls here, the entire square will be washed in blood!"

"I won't be a coward who escaped, there has never been a soldier in three hundred years who has broken into front of the palace gates, I will not set this precedent!" Green, who flatly refused, sighed slightly: "But I can't watch all the brothers die here, I want you to do me a favor." ”

"You want me to find out, who is behind this?" Edward laughed helplessly, "Even if I find it, what can I do, can these crazy things stop?"

"I want you to stop him - it's difficult, but you should be the best person. Greene Turn, too, was helpless: "You can stop the Brotherhood of Blood Banners from destroying Pipe Town, and maybe this time you can save the entire city of Turin from going to hell - if you're really willing to sacrifice yourself." ”

"I'm not going to sacrifice myself. Edward shook his head slightly, a confident smile already on his lips: "I'll take that damn guy and let him suffer what he deserves!"

After a little goodbye, the black-haired knight turned the corner alone and galloped towards the empty alley - to avoid being noticed that he was not even riding. Before he could go far, he saw a carriage that had stopped there early, and a squire in a solemn robe stood next to the door of the carriage, and when he saw Edward's figure, he took the initiative to open the door.

"Lord Duke awaits your arrival, Viscount Edward Witwood. The attendant said expressionlessly, "Please come with us." (To be continued.) )