74 - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

## Chapter 74: The Fissure in Human Hearts A massive black dragon with a wingspan of tens of meters let out a deep roar as it swiftly soared through the sky, generating intense air currents. On the broad back of this dragonic beast lay a woman dressed in a red gown, her features mesmerizing and alluring. She leaned against a cushion, idly playing with her long, black hair that cascaded over her shoulder, lost in thought. "Your Highness, just ahead is the entrance to the mountain range of ruins. The sealed artifact the Duke mentioned should be hidden in the depths of the labyrinth," said a small black cat that suddenly appeared beside her, speaking with a human voice. "I understand," Ivysette replied indifferently as she snapped back to reality after hearing the cat, Afea’s, words. At this moment, aside from herself, all the subordinates from Augusta Manor were gathered on the other side of the dragon's back. It seemed they were about to undertake a formidable mission. As the endless mountains and dense forests below rapidly receded, Ivysette remained silent. On days when battle was not required, her subordinates seldom spoke to her. Casual conversations were limited to questions like "What would Your Highness like to eat today?" For some reason, the image of Linne suddenly appeared in Ivysette’s mind. If that guy were here, it wouldn't be this boring now, she mused silently. It was the third day since she had left the manor. As for the agreement between Linne and Duke Tyllus, five full days had already passed. Who knows how things were going? With his abilities, he should have collected thousands of gold coins by now, shouldn’t he? For some reason, a slight smile tugged at Ivysette’s lips. Across town, Ramont rushed towards the carriage workshop for his work. Adherents of the Cathedral of the God of War have always revered responsibility, believing that men should be the pillars of their families. And as a member of this belief, Ramont truly embodied that ideal. Although life was not wealthy, each month, by waking early and working hard as a cargo loader at the carriage workshop, he earned a few silver coins, providing the best life he could for his wife and children. At this moment, dawn was just breaking. As a believer of the God of War, he took a slight detour just to pass by the city square. This had recently become a regular habit. He had no ulterior motives, just a modest curiosity. He wanted to see if those twelve donation boxes were still empty. Ramont expected the city square to be as it had been the past few days, deserted at this time. Yet, to his surprise, as he approached the square, he noticed a crowd of various people packed tightly, encircling the area and leaving no gaps. What on earth was happening? Laden with curiosity, Ramont, who should have been hastening to unload, paused and walked towards the square. The area was crowded, filled with chaotic and strange conversations. This only fueled Ramont's eagerness to find out more. Fortunately, his robust physique allowed him to force his way to the front of the crowd with some effort. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked towards the donation boxes at the center of the square. Then, he froze. The twelve glass boxes, expected to be empty, were replaced by an entirely different scene. The donation box representing the Slaan Sect, previously tucked in a corner and bearing the sect's emblem, had somehow been placed prominently in the center. Not only that, it was elevated on a podium-like base, making it stand taller than the other eleven glass boxes. It stood out starkly, as if flaunting a clear advantage over the other religious groups in some kind of competition. Yet, this was not what truly surprised Ramont. What shocked him speechless was the sight of a heap of shining gold coins inside the once-empty Slaan Sect's glass donation box. Each coin bore the likeness of Saint Roland I, indicating that they were authentic gold currency. What a staggering wealth lay before him! Ramont had never in his life seen such a vast collection of gold coins nor could he estimate its worth. But the glass donation box had a label indicating the amount. Twenty thousand Saint Roland gold coins! But why? Why was it the Slaan Sect, which had little presence in Olun City and was often marginalized and oppressed by their Cathedral of the God of War? Ramont was at a loss. Meanwhile, perhaps it was not just a coincidence, but the War God's cathedral’s empty donation box was placed conspicuously next to the Slaan Sect’s box. With its high base, the Slaan Sect’s box only accentuated the humble appearance of the War God’s. A faint sense of disgrace crossed Ramont's mind. Just then, a sudden cheer erupted from the direction of the official notice wall. Amidst the animated conversations, Ramont picked up fragments of the announcement content posted on the wall. "Effective from today, all devout followers belonging to the Slaan Sect who have been adherents for over three years will be awarded the title of 'Honorable Good Citizen' by the city council, in recognition of Slaan Sect’s comprehensive support for the disabled veterans’ fund, along with tax reductions and other benefits." A buzzing explosion went off in Ramont's mind. Why them? The enmity between the Cathedral of the God of War and the Slaan Sect was no secret in Olun City. But today, those devotees from the lowliest rung on the hierarchical ladder of faith suddenly made a victorious turnaround? Gazing at the cluster of jubilant individuals in the distance, Ramont identified a few people he had previously publicly mocked for their faith in Slaan. The banner above the donation box appeared even more glaring at this moment. "Let us see which faith is the kindest and most generous." If a few days before, the answer was still undecided. From today onward, however, it became a glaringly obvious fact. Slaan Sect was indeed the kindest and most generous belief! In a time when other faiths chose silence, they stood up and generously donated! For the general populace, they couldn’t perceive the far-reaching matters like the nobility; they could only grasp these superficial facts. Thus, from this moment on, the earlier conclusion would begin to spread and take root among countless citizens. It wouldn’t be long before it enveloped the entire city. Looking at his own faith’s barren donation box, Ramont suddenly felt a pang of shame. He pulled his hat brim low and hastily left in the chaos. He wasn’t alone. Similar scenes unfolded across various parts of the square.