In the canyon, the crowd of prisoners suddenly grew noisy.
Ansu scanned the group; a new batch of people was brought into the secret prison every hour, so there were many prisoners, a dark mass that seemed to stretch on forever.
Though many of the resisting mages had been killed, the number of demihumans captured alongside them was significant, including many with sturdy builds and defiant gazes.
If this batch of alchemical firearms were distributed to them, it would be enough to cause considerable chaos for the city guard.
"Unshackle them," Ansu gestured to Elder Barnes.
Elder Barnes nodded, and a series of crisp clicks followed as the metal chains connecting the prisoners snapped one after another, thudding to the ground.
The cold sensation still lingered on their newly freed wrists as the prisoners stood dazed, stretching their limbs, momentarily at a loss for what to do.
Ansu raised his hand toward the pile of captured firearms. "Those who are willing to take up arms, stand to the left of the group; the cult will lead you back into the city! As for the rest, you can leave now and find your own way to survive!"
The atmosphere fell silent instantly, with only the sound of the night wind whistling through the canyon.
"What are you hesitating for?" Ansu's voice suddenly rose. "From the moment you were shackled, from the moment your magic and dignity were stripped away, they had already sentenced you to death! You would only be sent to the North or the West to serve as slaves and cannon fodder for those border lords!"
"To resist is to die, but not to resist is an even more certain death!" Ansu stepped onto a large boulder, his tone growing impassioned. "Those with backbone should pick up a gun and charge into the City Lord's Mansion with me!"
"Let those lords who oppress and trample upon you experience it for themselves! Everything you've suffered—repay it tenfold!"
The crowd finally erupted.
The first to charge out was a wolf-born demihuman with a scar on his face; his eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed a firearm. With him leading the way, a second followed, then a third...
More and more people surged to the left to grab weapons, the nervousness in the prisoners' eyes already consumed by the fire of revenge.
"Kill all those church dogs!!"
"Take the City Lord's Mansion! Slay that bastard Alston!!"
Ansu stood before the surging tide of people, looking at the faces ignited by rage, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Playing the role of a 'beer hall orator', he actually felt like he was just a clumsy mimic, but he hadn't expected the effect to be so good...
As expected, igniting emotions that had been suppressed to the limit required only a single spark.
Although he had the elders and a top-tier combatant like Celia, the more help the better; Ansu needed chaos, he needed to create a sufficiently surging and boiling chaos in Norvigel...
Because time was running out.
Ansu checked the time again; it was four in the morning, and there were less than twelve hours left before he returned to reality...
Obtaining the Squirrel Party list and the crimson marrowstone intelligence were only the primary goals.
But while in prison, Ansu had already decided that since he had a strategic-level weapon like the witch in his hands, he might as well play for high stakes.
Ansu had already begun to ponder... how to solve that damn Magic Prohibition Decree.
Elder Matthew was excitedly organizing the angry prisoners and sending people to distribute weapons; Elder Barnes, however, looked worried as he watched the prisoners and even their own cult members being completely incited by the Hermit... he didn't know what to say for a moment.
Was the Hermit... being a bit too radical?
Didn't he usually say they should stay hidden and keep a low profile? How did this... suddenly turn into an open revolt against the Empire's tyranny?
While the mission of the Echoes of Truth would certainly lead to this step, wasn't this development a bit too fast...
Celia naturally noticed all this abnormality, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she was in no hurry to question or oppose him; instead, she observed Ansu's demeanor more closely.
That look of calculation hidden under a calm exterior, with a gaze so indifferent it was as if everything was under control, was very familiar to her.
Whenever he wore that expression, the subsequent development of events would surely follow Ansu's almost prophetic judgment...
So she chose to believe in Ansu.
"Ansu," Celia approached with her arms crossed, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity, "Is it that mysterious foresight again that led you to make such a choice? Is this really the optimal solution?"
"Of course," Ansu nodded.
In his mind, however, he was wondering if this was truly the 'optimal solution'; he couldn't be certain, and could only find out by trying.
Of course, he couldn't tell the witch that.
...
Two hours later, Norvigel Cathedral.
Candlelight flickered violently in the uneasy air, casting distorted, saintly faces onto the murals.
In the usually solemn corridors, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the air, accompanied by bursts of anxious discussion.
"I heard... the batch of prisoners being transported last night rioted? All those black mages and demihumans escaped?"
"It was more than just a riot!" A deacon who was about to go upstairs to report work spoke with a face suppressing panic. "Latest news! The South Gate has been breached! Those madmen have magic weapons in their hands!"
"Having weapons doesn't make sense either... how could a mere rabble breach a gate guarded by the city guard? Is the city guard really that useless?"
"Maybe someone's working with them from the inside..." An elderly clergyman glanced quickly upstairs and suddenly lowered his voice.
"I suggest you all pack up and be ready to evacuate at any time. I feel like something is wrong with this situation..."
In the bishop's office on the third floor, even the thick carved wooden doors could not completely block out the commotion from below.
Bishop Gordon East, dressed in white robes, stood before the floor-to-ceiling window with a grim expression, his gaze fixed on the 'brilliant' scenery toward the south of the city.
Boom—!
A burst of fire suddenly rose from a distant district, followed by a violent explosion that even made the floor beneath his feet tremble.
This... this was something a group of rioting prisoners could achieve?
No! This was clearly a premeditated rebellion with internal and external cooperation!
He just didn't know what the mastermind's goal was... could it be that the other party wanted to take the entire city of Norvigel in one fell swoop?
But that was simply absurd...
Even if the Empire was showing signs of decline, it wasn't something these rebels could challenge...
After all, even the Empire's two most troublesome threats—the Echoes of Truth and the remnants of the demon army—had never dared to openly assault any Imperial town like this.
"Lord Bishop!"
The office door was suddenly pushed open, and a paladin in silver-white armor rushed in, his urgent voice interrupting Bishop Gordon's contemplation.
"We've completely lost contact with the City Lord's Mansion! There are strong black magic fluctuations interfering with our communications, and none of the three groups I sent out have returned alive!"
Bishop Gordon's heart sank; he immediately looked out the window at the defensive forces around the cathedral.
An ominous premonition enveloped him.
"To be able to block our communications... and such a powerful black magic barrier." Bishop Gordon could feel the increasingly thick, foul black aura outside the cathedral.
"This is clearly a black magic ritual targeted at us, a so-called magic circle!"
"So their target is us!?"
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