"Revolt! We must revolt! Overthrow the nobles and the Eternal Church, and establish a fair and beautiful nation like the Fengyue Free Territory!"

In a small tavern in Maniya City, a clearly intoxicated man shouted angrily.

His voice was very loud, echoing throughout the small tavern, drawing fearful, admiring, yet slightly distant and pitying glances from those around.

Almost instantly, the area around him emptied considerably, leaving only his companion, who, with a fearful expression, nervously tugged at his sleeve, glanced worriedly towards a certain direction in the tavern, and couldn’t help but anxiously whisper:

"Are you crazy!? The guards are drinking over there, if they hear your complaints, they’ll come over and arrest you!"

Upon hearing his companion’s words, the drunkard hiccupped.

His eyes, either reddened from drinking too much or from his overwhelming anger, glared fiercely at a Silver-armored Guard on the other side of the tavern, whose surrounding seats were equally vacated, with flames seeming to shoot from deep within his gaze.

"What if they arrest me? At worst, I’ll just die! It’s better to stand up and revolt than be forced to death by the new tax law and conscription decree! If I’m going to die, dying in Dorolia Castle might even be remembered by the world like Lord Saint John!"

The drunkard pounded the table with his fist, roaring in anger.

After hearing his words, the people in the tavern had complex expressions.

It seemed that recalling a series of recent events in the nation, an emotion of mourning for a fellow creature’s death spread through the tavern.

The drunkard continued his complaints, drinking, roaring, and crying all the while.

His influence was palpable as the patrons’ mood visibly turned despondent and sorrowful, suppressing dissatisfaction and anger beneath the sadness...

Murmuring discussions started to emerge:

"But... what can we even do? The nobles are too powerful, and we have nothing..."

"Indeed, a single spell from the noble lords could level this entire tavern. How can we revolt?"

"No! Being weak doesn’t mean we can’t rebel! I think he’s right, even if we’re weak, we have to bite a chunk out of these damned noble pigs and church dogs!"

"The Life Church was right, we’re all citizens of the empire, why should they hold themselves above us, why should they oppress us?"

"Exactly! The greed of the nobles and the Eternal Church is limitless, and if we don’t resist, our situation will only get worse!"

"We must revolt! We must overthrow this rotten nation!"

As people spoke, they grew more agitated and angrier, until finally, the entire tavern seemed to ignite with the fury of the commoners.

Until the guard sitting inside stood up, and the tavern immediately fell silent.

Guards can only be Transcendents, and as Mania Guards loyal to the empire, they’re also hounds kept by the royal family, nobles, and churches.

For a moment, all eyes focused on the guard, filled with intense hostility, dissatisfaction, and fear buried deep within.

The guard didn’t pay attention to these civilians’ stares.

He stared at the drunkard who first complained, his gaze profound.

Feeling the guard’s gaze, the drunkard glared back angrily, shouting:

"What are you looking at? Aren’t you here to arrest followers of the Life Church? Aren’t you here to arrest rebels? Come arrest me, church and empire’s lapdog! Pah!"

The guard frowned and walked toward him, but he was quickly stopped by the obsequious tavern owner:

"Knight, knight, calm down, calm down, don’t mind this fool. I know this guy, he’s usually very honest, he’s definitely drunk too much today! Don’t take him seriously..."

Meanwhile, several young citizens, who had just voiced their strong aversion to the nobles and church, stood up, some blocking the drunkard, others standing with him.

The guard raised his brows and walked past the tavern owner.

The civilians around the drunkard silently picked up bottles and fruit knives from the table, someone even grabbed a stool.

They glared fiercely at the guard, like facing a formidable enemy.

A tense atmosphere began to spread throughout the tavern.

"Come on! Noble lapdogs! Let me see if you bastards from the guards are really as formidable as the legends say!"

The drunkard cursed with bloodshot eyes.

In an instant, the tavern’s tension escalated significantly, as if a fight could break out at any moment.

The tavern owner looked around anxiously, quickly called over a waiter, and instructed something, as the waiter hurriedly ran out.

However, just when everyone thought a battle was about to break out, the guard merely reached out and lightly patted the drunkard’s shoulder:

"Calm down, friend, mere hot-bloodedness is meaningless."

When finished, he turned his head and walked out of the tavern, but upon reaching the door, he suddenly stopped and said:

"Moreover, I’m just a guard, not a noble, nor a monk."

His figure soon disappeared from people’s sight.

Leaving only a bewildered drunkard and other commoners, and a tavern owner who breathed a sigh of relief.

A while later, a warrior dressed evidently like a mercenary entered led by a waiter, his gaze swept around the tavern, frowning: