When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

Late November 1459.

Although it was already November, the late autumn expansion area was not cold; instead, it was as cool as early autumn.

The sea breeze carried moisture, blowing against the stone walls.

Emerald ivy, covered in silvery morning dew, and the sun of Cape City still streamed through the stained glass as always.

In front of the altar, it cast her colorful light.

But today, the priest could not stand at the altar to preach and receive the offerings of the faithful.

Instead, he huddled behind the Holy Image, holding the cross to his chest, repeatedly murmuring prayers.

Beyond a long path covered by a red carpet lay the oaken doors of the church.

At this moment, the doors made sharp cracking and impact noises, becoming increasingly intense and more violent.

With a creak, the cold gleam of an axe blade shot through the door, causing countless nuns and monks to scream.

Moments later, as wood chips scattered, the church doors burst open.

Leading the charge was Yan Yono, a tobacco farmer, clutching a polished axe.

His eyes were red, veins bulging, yet his gaze stayed fixed on the Holy Master behind the altar.

Gilded Holy Master, compassionate and smiling at Yan Yono, which made him feel particularly nauseous.

"Smash that deceitful thing!"

The axe swung, with a whoosh smashed into the Holy Master, sending gold flecks flying, and the image collapsed immediately.

"You, you will be punished." The priest of the church, with a large belly but cowardly inside, shouted loudly.

"This is not the Holy Master’s statue; it’s the devil’s. The Holy Master doesn’t need offerings of wealth; it’s you devils who do!"

Yan Yono again swung his axe, and the priest immediately clutched his head, screamed like a lady, and hid in a corner.

However, this time Yan Yono did not swing the axe at him but continued to smash the holy image.

Once, twice, thrice, until the statue turned into a pile of oak splinters, tin, copper nails, and gold leaf.

The shouting in the church grew louder, and more people poured in.

Saws, hammers, stones, grabbing whatever they could find, they smashed directly at the holy figure murals on the walls, venting their dissatisfaction.

"Die!"

"You devils who flay and extract tendons!"

"The Holy Sect is the true sect chosen by the Holy Master; why ban our faith?"

"Not even allowing us to attend the Three Estates Meeting, France no longer considers the expansion area as French territory, so why should we acknowledge the King of France?"

The second week after the Black Mud Castle treaty, Charles VIII announced the Three Estates Meeting, inviting subjects from all over the kingdom to discuss state affairs.

The advice Horn gave to Charles was to "use the power of the people to suppress the aristocracy."

With the development of commerce and industry, the bourgeoisie rose, and the middle class also nurtured enormous power.

Using these middle-class citizens can also suppress the nobles.

Hearing the news, the pioneers were naturally jubilant and prepared to participate.

However, when they had packed their bags, they were informed by the governor they were not allowed to attend.

Not being allowed to participate was one thing, but when it came time to issue national bonds, they still required a share!

This was obviously too unfair, clearly stating that the expansion area was not part of France’s territory.

In the past, this would be a trivial matter, and just a few politically inclined people would lament about it.

But now, it was different; the Pioneer Daily promptly covered the news extensively, spreading the message.

The long-standing national pride of the pioneers was provoked, insisting on standing for what is right.

They elected nine representatives to reason with the new governor, but they were arrested.

Even worse, the new governor, in order to expel these "troublemakers," deliberately released false information.

Saying there was a plan to implement the "Expulsion of the Holy Sect Believers Act," and starting by hanging these nine Holy Sect believers, trying to scare them away.

According to the former governor Randy Duke, as soon as the news was heard, the local elites would immediately be "scared out of their wits."

Soon, they would elect representatives to plead for mercy.

Then, he pretended to forgive, and everything went back to normal, the trump card Randy Duke left him.

But he forgot, Randy could do this because the port was garrisoned by the Falan Legion and warships.

But now, these soldiers had returned to France due to Lorenzo’s strategic retreat.

All that was left was merely the governor’s guard squad of a few hundred people and a militia of less than a thousand composed of pioneers.

Thus, the Iconoclasm movement erupted.

The long-standing grievances, religious beliefs, and legal disputes, combined with the encouragement from the Thousand River Valley Independence War and the Dawn Island Independence War.

The pioneers and local middle-class elites unanimously believed that the time for independence had come.

"Go! To the next church!" Jan Horn shouldered his axe and headed for the door, "Contact the Holy Alliance and Norn’s merchant ships, we need armor and weapons!"

The Iconoclasm movement in Cape City spread rapidly in just a few weeks.

Meanwhile, the governor and the king were powerless and could only watch from the sidelines.

However, the major events were not only happening in the devleopment lands; another notable event was happening in Norn as well.

Compared to the Holy Alliance’s late autumn coldness and the development land’s late autumn coolness, in Norn Kingdom’s Mai Xiang Castle, it was already early winter.

Thick snow pellets struck the stone walls of Mai Xiang Castle, rustling into the muddy square.

Mixed with hoofprints and campfire ashes, it turned the square into a dirty brown mess.

Despite the cold, Great Monarchs of Norn, wrapped in various fur coats, still stood in the square with their hands folded.

The cold wind reddened their noses, but they just took a few sips of the Holy Alliance’s strong wine to fend off the cold.

Picking up the silver flask and taking another sip, the Crab Roe Castle Monarch couldn’t help but mumble, "Who researched this Holy Alliance wine?"

One sip warms you up, three sips make you drunk, usually, they drink pine nut wine, and it takes a pot to get drunk.

The Holy Alliance’s strong wine only takes three or five sips, it’s not too expensive, and it’s quite cost-effective.

But at this moment, the wine-loving monarchs didn’t drink too much, after all, they were here for serious business today.

They occasionally chatted, but their eyes were focused on the high platform in the center of the square.

Surrounding the high platform were nobles, both in mink coats and gemstone rings, as well as rough cloth cloaks with longswords at their waists.

"The current vote count is Chicken Leg Castle 162 votes, Codfish Castle 160 votes, only two votes left!" The secretary behind the platform shouted.

The Crab Roe Castle Monarch followed with a shout: "Who hasn’t voted yet, hurry up and vote, don’t delay everyone’s return to drink and sleep."

"Yes, hurry up and vote."

"Stop dawdling like a woman."

"Hey, what do you mean by that?"

In an instant, the crowd of burly or pig-like fat monarchs and lady monarchs all agreed.

Saying there are two votes left, but actually, it might just be the last one.

Because with this voting pattern, if the penultimate person votes for Codfish Castle, there’s more to discuss.

If they vote for Chicken Leg Castle, then Chicken Leg Castle will surely win.

Sitting at the voting table, the two monarchs wore sullen faces, rubbing their knuckles, trying their best to act calm.

But their slightly trembling legs betrayed their inner turmoil.

This is the most crucial vote!

"Here he comes, here he comes." Someone shouted.

In the commotion, Cheese Castle Monarch Raziwius pushed through the crowd, walking towards the platform under the gazes of the many armies.

The two monarchs immediately sweated like rain, their hearts lifting to their throats.

Raziwius’s mink coat had a long white fur hem, sweeping over the snow on the ground, leaving a dark snow furrow.

In front of the platform, looking guilty, he first bowed to the Codfish Castle Monarch: "Sorry, we must quickly decide on someone who can lead us against the vampire threat."

Hearing this, the Codfish Castle Monarch’s face immediately fell, he forced a smile: "No need to apologize, it’s your freedom."

Raziwius raised his large finger, showing the gemstone ring on his knuckle, he shouted, "My vote goes to Chicken Leg Castle Monarch Yekas Hausen!"

Not long after, the last border monarch added the final vote for Yekas Hausen.

Although everyone knew in their hearts, they still had to count.

Consolidating all the votes, the secretary counted them one by one.

The square was eerily silent, apart from the vote counting, only the sound of snow particles hitting cloaks could be heard.

"Counting finished!" The secretary suddenly stood up, raising the parchment in his hand, "Holy Father bear witness, Chicken Leg Castle Monarch candidate Yekas Hausen has received 164 votes, Codfish Castle Monarch candidate Desen has received 160 votes! Yekas Hausen is elected King Norn!"

On November 20, 1459, due to the absence of the Falan navy’s suppression, the development land chose to revolt for independence.

In early December 1459, with 164 votes to 160, only a 4-vote difference, Chicken Leg Castle Monarch ascended as king.

The first decree from the Chicken Leg Castle Monarch after taking office was to organize the national army and form a War Council to combat the formidable vampire threat.

The first three War Ministers appointed were Codfish Castle Monarch Desen, Crab Yellow Castle Monarch Sibangqi, and Cheese Castle Monarch Raziwius.

"Tsk tsk." A Pope sitting inside the Holy Seat Mansion put down the newspaper, rubbing his temples, "Truly a troubled autumn."