79 - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

### Chapter 79: The Collapse of Faith Mozelle sat in his chair and, for the third time that night, took out the pocket watch from inside his coat. Ten o'clock sharp. After moving his gaze away from the watch face, Mozelle scanned his surroundings. He was currently in a rather cramped room, with an old and somewhat dilapidated long table in front of him. On the opposite end of the table was another chair. As a negotiation venue, the setting appeared overly simplistic, almost lacking in sincerity. However, if perceived as a place for murder and body disposal, it was eerily fitting. A dark, windy night, devoid of people. In every regard, the atmosphere felt unbearably grim. And indeed, Mozelle had chosen this location specifically for murder. The top floor of the Samuel Clock Tower. Just then, a soft knock sounded from the door. "Come in." Mozelle, internally amused, pondered the irony. Even on the brink of death, maintaining such a polite facade — it was as if the pretense was for another's benefit. He had never doubted whether Lin En would attend this negotiation. There truly weren't any insurmountable conflicts or disputes between them. Lin En's previous actions, including his orchestration of a citywide church fundraiser, ultimately boiled down to money. He was aligned with Duke Tilus. Therefore, he wouldn't miss the chance to extract a substantial sum from this opportunity. The concession Mozelle feigned would undoubtedly make Lin En lower his guard. And it was precisely at that moment that he would reveal his fangs. Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, Bishop Mozelle saw Lin En's face—a visage he loathed intensely—walk into the room. "You're quite early," Lin En said as he slowly entered and glanced around the room. "Could it be that you've set a trap here, waiting for me to step into it?" Mozelle's heart tensed, but his expression remained composed. "If you're so cautious, why come at all?" "Don't worry, there's no trap here—just my two subordinates." "That's better." Lin En nodded, then took the seat opposite Mozelle. A burly man in a military uniform with a common face followed him into the room, standing behind him. Mozelle glanced at the man and dismissed him, sensing only a faint trace of divine essence—hardly noteworthy. "Alright, I'm here at the place you specified," Lin En said directly. "So, how do you want to negotiate?" Though consumed with murderous intent, Mozelle decided to feign civility out of caution. "Fifty thousand gold coins, and you immediately remove those things from the city square," Mozelle stated his price. "Additionally, you must refrain from stirring up public opinion against the Church of Natural Order." Although he knew the conditions were absurd, he voiced them nonetheless. It was his final offer to Lin En. If the latter could accept, Mozelle would even feel relieved. For just fifty thousand gold coins, he could cover the loss with his accumulated wealth over the years. More importantly, it would prevent offending that terrifying woman, Ivyst. To him, this was a business deal worth making. But as he anticipated, this condition was, frankly, outrageous. "Are you joking?" Lin En scoffed. "Multiply that number by ten, and I might reluctantly consider it." "Then there's nothing to discuss?" Mozelle's eyes instantly turned cold. "It seems to me," Lin En said, slamming the table heavily, "that you're the one who doesn't want to negotiate." At his words, Mozelle's two subordinates quickly stepped forward. As the divine essence flared, an invisible force descended from above, like the sudden, crushing weight of gravity. It slammed onto the burly guard behind Lin En. The guard grunted and fell to one knee. Lin En's gaze turned ominous as he looked at Mozelle. "What are you trying to do?" Oh, so you can show such an expression? The young man, always so composed in memory, now showed a few signs of things slipping out of control. Mozelle felt an inexplicable satisfaction. The night of the banquet, this individual had remained unfazed while killing two people, leaving Mozelle deeply impressed—and even instilled a touch of fear. Yet now, it seemed, it was merely because he hadn’t been pushed to the limit. When faced with the threat of death, anyone would reveal a side seldom seen. "What am I trying to do? Of course, break our agreement." Mozelle smiled, signaling his subordinates to seize him. He intended to enjoy the spectacle of this person’s plea for life before death. "You really are naive," Mozelle shook his head. "I mentioned negotiations, and you show up with just one person, without any defenses." As the two men pressed closer, Lin En fell silent. In their eyes, this was a sign of surrender. Just as Lin En was about to be pinned to the table by Mozelle’s subordinates, he suddenly spoke. "Are you planning to kill me here?" "Of course," Mozelle sneered. "As someone who has hindered the Church's progress, this is the conclusion you should have anticipated." "Aren't you afraid of violating the Empire’s laws by doing this?" Lin En asked again. His shoulders now held down, Lin En seemed devoid of resistance, allowing Mozelle to brace himself on the table and rise slowly. "To think a wretch from the Bartleon family would still cling to such naive ideas after all that." "Law? Those are tools crafted by the powers I serve to maintain the authority of the elite. As an exalted being and a bishop of the church, I am a part of them." "It’s the beasts and the lowborn who must adhere to such ludicrous constraints." Upon hearing this, Lin En fell silent. After a brief pause, he spoke again. "Second question: why are you so determined to see me dead?" "Why so many questions?" Mozelle replied impatiently. "One way or another, you’ll die." "Just making conversation. As you said, I’ll be dead soon anyway." Despite the imminent threat, Lin En, pinned to the chair, remained composed and conversational. Mozelle snorted. "I already stated—you obstruct the Church's progress." "I don't actually wish to kill you, but you sealed your fate when you chose to join Duke Tilus." "You should be aware of his intentions—he defies all the city’s churches," Mozelle said matter-of-factly. "But he possesses the title of Duke and commands a formidable army. Even if he gains nothing from us, he remains unscathed." "But you're different. You’re merely someone from a fallen family, banished outside, serving the Crown Princess everyone views as a demon. You have no support, like a soft target." "In these circumstances, who dies if not you?" "I see." Lin En nodded. "Yet I've never requested anything from you, only sought welfare for those disabled soldiers." "Such noble intentions," Mozelle shook his head. "But as I've said repeatedly, your actions absolutely obstruct the Church's progress." "So, what exactly do you mean by 'the Church's progress'?" Lin En abruptly interjected. Mozelle raised his voice slightly, answering as if it were self-evident: "The money in those wretches' hands is the church's progress!" "Do you know how much profit the Church of Natural Order extracts from those fools each year?" "Eighty thousand! Every year!" Mozelle’s eyes sparkled. "Simply from donations and charity, we reach that figure!" "And yet they must thank us, convinced it’s the Church of Natural Order sparing them the Empire’s exorbitant taxes!" "How can you not adore such a group, so easily duped, living almost like cattle?" Even Mozelle didn’t realize he was slipping into a peculiar state. Perhaps truly believing Lin En's death was imminent, he uncharacteristically let his guard down. "And you, your actions aim to redirect the money we've painstakingly extracted from them into your pockets!" "Truly... outrageous." Mozelle slammed the table. At this, an odd gleam crossed Lin En's eyes. "So, in the end, this money is sent to the imperial capital? Who receives it?" "Of course, it's—" Mozelle suddenly frowned. He realized he had been inadvertently lured by Lin En’s questioning. It was impossible to carelessly speak the names of those families in the capital. There were ancient and fearsome surnames that even uttering could make him shudder. Seeing this, a flash of disappointment crossed Lin En's eyes. He had hoped to glean information about the hidden figures behind it all. But it seemed Mozelle wasn't foolish enough for that. "Anything else you wish to ask? Let's get it over with." Mozelle seemed resolved to satisfy Lin En’s curiosity before ending things. "One last question," Lin En stared intently into Mozelle's eyes. "In your view, what are the people and the faithful?" Without hesitation, Mozelle replied, "Pigs and dogs... no, perhaps that’s unfair. After all, pigs and dogs have many uses. They can be eaten, or kept as pets for amusement." "But the trash that does nothing but complain, attributing all life's misfortunes to fate, serves no purpose other than to spread endless negativity and to be bled dry by us." "Does that answer satisfy you?" "Quite satisfied." Lin En suddenly raised his hand and clapped softly. "In that case, make peace before you leave." Mozelle's smile vanished as he gave Lin En one final lookover. "Wait a moment." Lin En shook his head suddenly, "Before that, I have two things to say to you." In the next second, as Mozelle's pupils widened in shock, the young man before him suddenly freed himself from his bonds and stood up from the chair. "What—you—" "M-my lord, for some reason, we can't move!" One of his subordinates answered in panic. Mozelle was taken aback. However, Lin En paid their reactions no mind and slowly walked toward the window. "First, you view the people as pigs and dogs, and they see you as the enemy." As he spoke, he pushed open the dusty window. Seeing his calm demeanor, an inexplicable sense of unease crept into Mozelle’s heart. "Second, I deceived you last night." Lin En’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. "The Samuel ritual isn't seven days away—it's tonight." A loud buzzing exploded in Mozelle's mind. As he processed Lin En’s words, his face turned ashen, and he staggered a few steps back. His neck stiffly twisted, and despite its rusted movements, he managed to look outside. The foot of the clock tower, which had been deserted, was now crowded with people holding candles. Their glowing lights outlined the once-dark environment, revealing familiar yet estranged faces. Pallid and enraged! --- A lengthy update, pledging for monthly votes! [In reading mode, the next page cannot automatically load. Please <exit reading mode> and click to read the next page.]