"Recently, it seems those farmers are making some moves." Oligarch Mossley from Le Bi stopped reading the newspaper suddenly.

In the wobbling carriage, the leather merchant and Silver Castle councilor Gatz, sitting across from him, stopped wiping his eyes.

He lifted his head, squinting at Mossley through the light from the window: "What have you heard?"

"Nothing, but that’s exactly why I’m scared; they’ve barely made any noise."

"That’s a good thing," Gatz put his glasses on, "you don’t understand, farmers don’t know about these things, and they don’t care."

"Do they really not care?"

Unlike Gatz, a new oligarch self-made from the guild head family, Mossley came from a hereditary oligarch family.

Compared to Gatz, his understanding of the lower classes is too limited, so he often has to consult with Gatz, the older generation’s bourgeois counter-revolutionary fighter.

"Of course. Look at the history of the Empire, when have farmers ever willingly engaged in politics, except for the Holy Alliance?

Even with the Holy Alliance, it was the workers and citizens of Joan of Arc Castle who acted first, and then the Saint’s Grandson pressured surrounding farmers to join the rebellion.

If the house doesn’t leak and there is bread in the box, they’re grateful to the Holy Father. Do they have any concept of Dawn Island and the country?

Let alone politics, can ants understand the ocean?"

Mossley still felt something was off: "Didn’t we once promise the farmers the right to send representatives..."

"We also promised eternal allegiance to the Leia Royal Family!" Gatz gripped Mossley’s shoulder, "As for those representatives, haven’t they been selected?

They are all polite gentlemanly armed farmers, and they will side with us."

"But in my heart..."

"Wasn’t it all agreed upon from the start? Are you thinking of reneging now?" Gatz’s eyelids trembled slightly.

Feeling a faint threat in Gatz’s words, Mossley knitted his brows: "What are you saying, isn’t my name on that manifesto?"

He had signed with conviction back then, but now that the time had come, he was wavering and regretting.

It seems the bet was placed too early.

"So what are you worried about?" Gatz sighed and withdrew his hand, looking at him.

Mossley tugged irritably at his high collar: "I don’t know... Do you think we can really win this time? And what about after we win?

This time the Holy Alliance put in significant effort, yet we teamed up with the Falan to take the fruit.

If the Holy Alliance retaliates, not to mention anything else, just blocking our ships from entering the Thousand River Valley, that would be a gut-wrenching pain."

Gatz suddenly slapped Mossley’s thigh, startling him: "Why wouldn’t we win?

You have to know, the Saint Father’s Association has only operated here for two or three years, while the Falan have been managing on Dawn Island for decades.

They have connections everywhere, trump cards everywhere, why are you scared?

Look at the recent temporary parliamentarians from other cities on Dawn Island, which one isn’t Falan-affiliated?

In this region of Dawn Island, apart from a few cities whose industries complement the Holy Alliance, who else is aligned with them?

They’re all our people, how could they win?"

Seeing Mossley’s worried expression, Gatz pressed further: "If you ask me, being ostracized by the Holy Alliance would be a good thing for you!"

"Why?"

"The deeper the Holy Alliance harms you, the more welcome you’ll be to the Falan," Gatz smugly adjusted his glasses, "Ask yourself who will contend with whom in the Empire’s future? It’s nothing but Falan vs. the Holy Alliance.

If the Holy Alliance rejects and excludes you, then the Falan will certainly want you, and they will definitely want to employ you heavily, otherwise, how can the King of France display his wide-reaching magnanimity?"

There was actually one more point that Gatz didn’t voice, but both of them were well aware.

Compared to Falan, the Holy Alliance’s regulation of merchants is overly stringent.

What are standard speculative behaviors in their view are illegal, considered profiteering in the Holy Alliance.

The Holy Alliance demands the liberation of workshop laborers and contract slaves, which will inevitably cause a significant cost increase.

Plus, with all the other rules and barriers, the path to advancement is obscure and power cannot be gained quickly.

The Falan’s side is much more straightforward.

If you want power, simply buy it.

Comparing the environments between the Falan and the Holy Alliance, they find the Falan’s side more favorable.

After hearing Gatz’s reassurance, some of Mossley’s anxiety subsided, but an inexplicable tightness in his chest remained.

He opened the carriage window to get a breath of fresh air, watching the street scenes fly by rapidly.

The weather in October had turned cool.

The ominously overcast sky drizzled rain, and the passersby wore felt hats and hooded caps, hurrying to taverns or workshops.

From the speeding red brick walls and arrow marks on the ground, it was clear they were in Longbow Castle.

As a citizen of Le Bi, Mossley dearly hoped the first state affairs meeting on Dawn Island could be held in Le Bi.

But in reality, due to its long-standing role as a logistics hub in wars, coupled with some outstanding performances, Longbow Castle had genuinely become the political center of Dawn Island.

The previous Knight Hall had been renovated and expanded over these months, becoming the present Parliament Hill.

The earlier rebellion instigated by Leia left marks on the ground and the iron fences.

Those glaring scorch marks on the arrow tower were left by Jeanne’s lightning back then.

Staring at the arrow tower’s scorch marks, Mossley was lost in thought, silently pondering for a long time.

Noticing Mossley’s gaze, Gatz sneered.

"Are you afraid of that Saintess?"

"After all, her identity is Saint Jeanne of the Holy Alliance, and as to what the Saintess is, we are all quite clear.

If she gets upset and goes on a rampage, what should we do?"

"What are you afraid of?" he snorted, confidently crossing his legs, "If we scatter, she can’t possibly kill all the island’s councilors before exhausting her mana!

Moreover, if she starts killing, both Falan and Leia would have excuses to intervene."

Having said that, Gatz seemed somewhat uncertain himself, he straightened up, mumbled for a while before finally making some decision.

"Let’s leave more council seats for the Holy Alliance in the Dawn Island parliament, we mustn’t push things to extremes."

In front of the brown wooden gates of Parliament Hill, the two got off the carriage one after another and saw several groups of city councilors gathering and chatting.

In the shadows of the outdoor gallery, they clearly divided into two sides.

To the left of the main entrance were mostly councilors of the Holy Alliance faction, Mossley glanced briefly and saw there were only about a third as many as the Falan faction councilors.

As for the independent faction councilors, some mingled with the Falan faction, some with the Holy Alliance, but they made up only about a tenth.

This national affairs meeting is like three against one; the advantage is ours!

We will win.

Nervously fidgeting with the buttons on his garment, Mossley donned a businesslike smile and walked toward the crowd.

"Councilor Mossley, come, come, let me introduce you to some new friends."

"And who is this?"

"Ah, this one has just switched over from the independent faction and now supports our joining the Falan!"

"Oh, hahaha, welcome, welcome..."

Compared to the lively chatter and laughter from the Falan faction councilors, the Holy Alliance side was much quieter.

Faces filled with worry looked around at each other, occasionally someone would murmur a few words, then everyone would sigh together.

The current situation was indeed not looking good.

This national affairs meeting would decide the fate of several measures and the future of Dawn Island.

It had a distinct resemblance to the Constitutional Assembly of the Thousand River Valley from back in the day, in fact, it was a direct copy of that assembly.

Most of the councilors were not elected by universal suffrage, but self-nominated, with seats left for each group.

Compared to the intense atmosphere of that Constitutional Assembly, Dawn Island’s national affairs meeting was considerably calmer.

This demonstrated a one-sided overwhelming advantage over the other.

A one-to-three vote ratio, can it be won? Do they really have to hand over their war fruits?

Taking a puff from his pipe and shaking off its ashes, Bradak said: "Let’s go, it’s about time to head inside."

But a councilor next to him grabbed his arm: "What about Saint Joan, ma’am?"

"Chairman Joan, she hasn’t arrived yet," Bradak hesitated briefly but replied truthfully, "She only said there’s something, asks us to rest assured and to adapt accordingly."

"How are we supposed to adapt accordingly?"

As the bell tolled, coreless as they felt, the councilors still filed into the venue.

As the doors closed with a boom, everyone around knew that a fate-deciding meeting had begun.