Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 71: Make the Nobles and the Church Suffer, and I'll Take the Blame

“So, what exactly are those things you had me prepare for?” Greya asked curiously, looking at Lynn, who was leaning on the railing at the edge of the high platform.

At the moment, the two were at the very top of a towering structure with a massive brass bell hanging at its center. The bell, bearing the marks of history and time, exuded an ancient and solemn aura.

It was the topmost level of a clock tower.

This tower, known as the Renn Clock Tower, was one of Orne City’s most iconic landmarks. Funded by the city council, it stood 169 meters tall, making it the tallest building in the city, and had a history spanning over 300 years.

Just a street away from the Renn Clock Tower was the southern district’s municipal building and the expansive municipal square in front of it. At the center of the square stood a statue commemorating Orne City’s first council president.

However, none of that was the focus right now.

What mattered was that Lynn’s current vantage point provided a spectacular view of nearly the entire district.

At this moment, the municipal square below, usually desolate on rest days, was packed with a sea of people for some reason.

Hearing Greya’s question, Lynn didn’t even look back. “Those things? They’re for fundraising, of course.”

Last night, upon returning to the estate, Lynn had instructed Greya to have twelve massive glass containers made. These were transparent, allowing anyone to clearly see their contents, and each had an opening at the top.

At the time, Greya had no idea what they were for.

In hindsight, they were essentially oversized donation boxes.

“Fundraising?” Greya was taken aback for a moment before looking at Lynn with suspicion. “Then how is this any different from the charity galas Duke Tyrius hosts?”

“The difference is, he begs on his knees, while I’m robbing them outright,” Lynn replied with a chuckle.

Greya’s confusion only deepened.

But, as usual, Lynn loved to keep people in suspense.

“Wait… Are you trying to take money from the poor?”

“Of course not.”

“Then whose money are you after?”

“Whoever has money,” Lynn said with a cryptic tone. “In short, I’ll make the nobles and the church suffer, and I’ll take the blame for it.”

For some reason, looking at Lynn’s current silhouette, exuding a lofty sense of responsibility for the greater good, Greya suddenly felt the urge to hit him.

In the center of the municipal square, a row of large, transparent glass boxes had mysteriously appeared.

Each box was as tall as a person and completely empty inside.

Counting them carefully, there were twelve in total.

All the boxes were identical in size and neatly lined up together.

No one knew what the number twelve signified.

As these strange objects occupied the previously vacant square, many citizens stopped to gawk.

Some had stumbled upon the scene by chance, while others had come specifically after hearing the news.

Orne City, though not a small town, wasn’t very large either. With a population of around 800,000 to 900,000, any significant news could spread across the entire city within two days.

At this moment, staring at the mysterious glass boxes, the people in the square were all wondering about their purpose.

Could it be related to the city council’s upcoming tax reform legislation?

“What do you think these boxes are for?” someone asked in the noisy crowd.

“No idea. Maybe… they’re for collecting public opinions?” another joked, though the humor fell flat.

“Wait, someone’s coming!”

At the front of the crowd, a sharp-eyed citizen noticed something unusual.

A group of private guards in Augusta family armor was approaching the center of the square, carrying several objects.

The sight drew even more attention from the onlookers.

Judging by appearances, this must be the Augusta family’s doing.

Because of their good reputation and low profile, the Augusta family’s actions didn’t arouse immediate suspicion or resistance from the crowd.

Under the watchful eyes of the masses, the guards began hanging wooden plaques, inscribed with text, onto the twelve glass boxes in a particular order.

The crowd instinctively leaned in closer, straining to read the inscriptions.

What they saw left them collectively stunned.

Divine Order Church, Silent Church, Church of Abundance, Cult of Desolation, Cathedral of the War God, Adur Knowledge Society, Slann Sect…

The inscriptions were neatly carved and concise.

Exactly as they appeared.

Each wooden plaque bore the name of a local church in Orne City.

Moreover, each plaque corresponded to one of the empty glass boxes.

Upon realizing this, the crowd had an epiphany.

The twelve glass boxes represented the twelve most prominent churches in the city.

Due to Orne City’s position on the border, its regulations on religious practices were relatively lax. Being close to neighboring nations also allowed foreign faiths to take root here.

For instance, the War God Cathedral, the state religion of the Dust Sand Kingdom Tutkhamun, had not abandoned this small piece of Saint Roland Empire’s territory.

Thanks to their reverence for strength and the city’s proximity to the battlefield with the demon tribes, where war was a constant, they had managed to gain a significant following over time.

There were several other similar churches.

However, compared to the Saint Roland Empire’s major faiths—the Divine Order Church, the Silent Church, and the Church of Abundance—these foreign churches were relatively weaker.

Conflicts, both overt and covert, frequently arose due to doctrinal differences.

Now, the Augusta family’s actions left everyone utterly perplexed.

What was the purpose of this elaborate setup?

Not only were the gathered citizens confused, but even many nobles and clergy observing from carriages or hidden corners were baffled.

Fortunately, the mystery was soon resolved.

As people stared at the donation boxes, each labeled with a church name, the guards brought out ladders and several long banners. Climbing up, they began to hang the banners prominently.

The first banner unfurled, its message written in large, clear text for all to see:

“Each year, approximately 30% of conscripts sustain lifelong disabilities in war. According to incomplete statistics, after leaving the army, these disabled soldiers often become disconnected from society and receive no support for their livelihood.”

The crowd’s eyes widened in shock.

What did this mean?

It was clear that no one fully understood the situation yet.

But moments later, a second banner was hung beneath the first:

“Another statistic: 60% of these disabled soldiers develop mental illnesses within three years of discharge, with many eventually choosing to end their lives.”

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances.

To think that the disabled soldiers, a group they had never given much thought to, faced such dire circumstances after leaving the military.

As murmurs spread, the guards hung a third and fourth banner.

“The Provincial Governor of the Southern Province, Duke Tyrius, advocates for generous donations from Orne City’s local churches and nobles.”

“We cannot let the soldiers who defend our homes and nation bleed and weep!”

A rare hush fell over the square.

Now, instead of confusion about the purpose of the glass boxes, the crowd was captivated by the content of the banners.

So this was a donation drive?

And yet, it wasn’t targeting ordinary citizens but rather the local churches and nobility.

The people’s thoughts began to churn.

Finally, the fifth banner was hung, placed directly above the twelve massive glass boxes, its bold message strikingly clear:

“Let’s see which faith is the kindest and most generous.”

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