Chapter 1928 - 527: The Bell Sound of the Republic Rings in Another Theater (Part 4)

However, everything is just the beginning.

The lights switch again, this time to a dye-scented cloth workshop.

Matthew kneels on the ground, facing the bloated cloth shop owner, the only person he can still plead with.

"I beg you to lend me money. I can offer my next five years in exchange!"

"Your time is worthless to me."

The cloth shop owner blows out a smoke ring, his gaze greedy, yet pretending to be generous.

"But I do like your livestock shed and the surrounding land. I can lend you five silver coins; when your finances improve and you repay me, those collateral items will be yours again."

Matthew grinds his teeth.

For Eloise, for the girl who shyly smiled under a garland, he ultimately sold his only home.

No freedom, no land.

This diligent, brave, loyal Campbell young man stripped himself bare, just to exchange for the sound of a bell.

He holds the heavy silver coins and stands once again before the Bell Tower Steward.

This time, the steward can't find an excuse.

However, all the audience knows that this greedy vampire will certainly not let the young Matthew off easily.

Including Mignes, everyone wonders what difficulty the steward will impose next.

The hunched old man casually trims his nails.

"The gears of the bell tower are stuck, requiring top-quality whale oil for lubrication... That's not a small amount, it'll cost ten silver coins."

Matthew on stage is in despair.

And Mignes below the stage almost spits out.

How can traditional copper bells have gears, when pulling the clapper to make it ring is enough?

But the smile hasn't yet climbed to his lips, freezing on his jaw.

Indeed, traditional hanging bells have no gears.

This is no longer innovatively robbery but the erasure of Spirit and the trampling of personality!

The Lord doesn't lack those five silver coins; silver coins are merely their means.

They want him unable to repay, constantly running, losing dignity, becoming a slave.

That is more important than money.

That is the true purpose.

On stage, Matthew collapses on the ground, gaze hollow. He has nothing left, how can he lubricate nonexistent gears?

At this moment, the lights become ambiguous and sticky.

The Bell Tower Steward leans down like a demon tempting a good man to fall, whispering in Matthew's ear.

"There's another way."

The entire scene falls into silence.

"If the bride is willing to go to the castle to receive the Lord's 'blessing,' the bell of blessing will ring..."

The steward's voice carries a nauseating hint.

"Her garland still belongs to you, but for your benefit, we need to conduct a sacred examination."

He doesn't mention the term.

But everyone understands what he's implying.

It's the cloud hanging over every commoner, the dirtiest ulcer under the so-called 'noble glory'—'Droit du seigneur.'

But the brilliance of the script lies in not mentioning this term, so Baron Gess sitting in the VIP box, though furious, finds no point of rebuttal.

Droit du seigneur, though slanderous, chastity tax indeed exists, though marrying in the same village usually doesn't entail it, or a symbolic task suffices as payment.

It must be said, the nobles of Campbell retain some heritage after all.

Even someone like Baron Gess, who has almost discarded all glory, wouldn't slap a sword on the table as disgracefully and contently as the Earl in Roland City's Summer Palace.

"Get out! I spit on you!"

A roar explodes on stage.

Matthew violently pushes the stooped like-a-hyena steward, stumbling into the darkness.

He believed that traditional hanging bells needed gears to operate and whale oil to lubricate.

He also believed that through effort, the bell would eventually ring.

The Bell Tower Steward did not obstruct his run, watching him vanish into the shadows, elegantly like the shadows symbolizing Lords and authority.

The music turns joyful and absurd, then the stage welcomes a girl named Eloise.

Her garland is already woven, but perhaps waiting too long; wild roses have withered, the edges of the petals are tinged with brown.

Yet it remains her most precious treasure, surpassing all the world's lavish jewels.

She's not here to argue.

She's here to plead.

"Sir."

Eloise's voice trembles lightly, carrying a humility fearing to disturb the Gods, hiding compassion and sorrow beneath lowered eyelashes.

She can't bear to watch Matthew endure those pains alone.

Though she prepared the garland for long, searched the entire forest for it, if it means the innocent and pure smile can return to Matthew's face, she's willing to give everything she has.

"I am willing to offer my garland to the bell tower."

She raises her hands high, offering the circle of flowers towards the shadowy figure.

"I only ask you, let the bell ring."

Mignes below the stage feels a tightness in his chest, finally recalling the champagne he only sipped once, taking it again for a sip.

The Bell Tower Steward turns around.

The light hits his profile, illuminating the flickering smile, like a Hunter patiently watching prey walk into the trap.

"Garland?"

He reaches out, yet doesn't take the wreath but gently lifts a strand of Eloise's hair scattered across her forehead.

He admires the innocence, purity on her face... and all the beautiful qualities Campbell people weave into fairy tales, turning into fear under the shadow's cover.