When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

The colorful fragments shot from the starter pistol had not yet hit the ground when Heber’s racing carriage shot forward like an arrow.

While the spring machine was still buzzing like a breathing monster, the horses’ whinnying had already traveled almost ten meters away.

"Maintain speed, children!"

Heber shook the reins, and eight identical chestnut Falan warhorses broke through the stagnant air, galloping forward relentlessly.

The racing carriage had no rearview mirrors, but Heber could still feel that he had left the spring machine far behind.

The breathing sound of the beast had already faded into the distance.

No way, no way, could it have possibly broken down at the crucial moment, unable to even start?

Heber couldn’t help but shout out joyfully: "Yi-Ha!"

The sound of hoofbeats was quick and dense, kicking up pebbles that hit the wooden fences on the roadside with a crackling sound.

On either side, the audience gasped, either turning sideways or using their arms to block the stones and dust.

By the time they lowered their arms, they couldn’t even see the shadow of Heber’s carriage anymore.

Only then, amidst the clanking noise, did the spring machine slowly pass by like an iron giant.

"What’s going on?"

"Hurry up, big guy, they’ve overtaken you by so much!"

"It’s over, it’s over, my Falan betting ticket!"

"Faster, faster."

The passengers waved their betting tickets at the spring machine and cursed angrily, wishing they could personally go up and push the machine.

As for those who bet on the carriage winning, they burst out laughing loudly.

Such betting tickets were not allowed in the Holy Alliance, considered illegal, only lotteries were permissible.

These passengers or devout followers of the Holy Alliance either bought their bets in Falan or Leia, or entrusted someone to make the purchase.

"Bravo!" Unable to contain himself after witnessing Heber’s impressive carriage maneuvers, Sibangqi stood up and applauded vigorously.

As for the spring machine on the other side, its speed was much faster than initially, but the question remained: how to catch up with such a huge gap in between?

Hidden among the crowd, the secret knights of Falan heaved a sigh of relief.

After all, the blueprints were burned, the lathes destroyed, and the last machine-carriage experiment remained incomplete. Ten days was insufficient for the Holy Alliance’s spring machine to conduct another test.

Merely getting on the road this time was thanks to the Holy Father’s grace; how could a truly foolproof solution exist?

The Falan spies were elated, whereas the devotees of the Holy Alliance were downtrodden.

The little flags they held saying "The machine is certain to win," now drooped listlessly, along with their lips, eyebrows, and eyes.

Most followers dared not even look; they covered their eyes, occasionally peeking through their fingers only to close up again quickly.

Afraid to witness the machine’s disastrous defeat and let "Crisson and Eugenie" meet a tragic end.

One young monk bit his lips, mumbling softly, "Why so slow... didn’t Master Leonardo say it would be fast?"

Someone nearby grumbled in response, "Could it be the parts weren’t installed properly? Earlier Axent said..."

The conversation was interrupted by yet another cheer, because everyone could see a blue streak of smoke rising into the sky like a meteor.

Given that the five-mile distance wasn’t short, signal pistols were placed along the road every mile at both sides.

Whoever passes first, for instance, a carriage crosses first, triggers blue smoke, and vice versa, triggers red smoke, so that even when visibility is blocked, it’s clear who’s leading.

So it’s indeed the carriage leading? Many monks stood on tiptoe, irritated, trying to get a clearer view.

On the contrary, a small monk pointed at the smoke rising after the blue one and said, "No, the timing of these two smoke signals is closer than expected?"

Several veteran merchants in Norn dealing horses gradually changed their expressions.

"Look, look at Heber’s horses!"

Everyone followed his gaze and saw Heber’s warhorses exhaling white steam fiercely through their nostrils.

The rhythm of their hooves, though still quick, lacked the initial power, even the mane on their backs drooped a bit.

In contrast, the spring machine’s originally slow "bang clank" rhythm was getting tighter, like raindrops hitting metal.

The spring compartment at the front of the machine started emitting faint white steam, vaporized moon mercury damping liquid.

The triangular pointed front cut through silky air, the sound of wheels grinding over iron tracks changed from "sh-sh" to "ch-ch," occasionally bursting out a series of sparks.

"Holy Father, why is the spring machine still applying brakes?" a carriage driver couldn’t help but complain.

Horse-drawn trains weren’t rare in the Holy Alliance, and those carriage drivers were familiar with what caused sparks to fly from wheels.

At this moment, why apply brakes? Shouldn’t it continue to accelerate?

This question hadn’t yet been voiced when a gust of wind swept through.

For some reason, this gust blew from the side and behind, as though someone was pulling at their collars.

Even the spectators’ straw hats were swept by the wind and flew into the sky.

"Wait a second, how could it be so fast?"

"The machine’s accelerating!" someone shouted.

Unknowingly, the spring machine that had been moving leisurely was gradually nearing the carriage ahead.

What kind of joke is this?

Sibangqi had just lowered himself back into his seat when he sprang back up, wasn’t the victory just assured? How did things go awry again?

Can’t it end swiftly, either with a quick defeat or victory, this is too excruciating!

"Bang bang!"

The signal smoke shot up again, with intervals less than a second apart.

"Give me the spyglass, quickly!"

Snatching the spyglass from the steward’s hand, the Great Monarch squinted his somewhat clouded eyes and stared at the road track.