Chapter 147: Alham's Response

Lin Qi and Long Cheng disguised themselves as a pair of idlers and strolled leisurely near Number One, Holy Glory Avenue, leaning casually against a brick wall overgrown with withered Boston ivy. Some twenty or thirty other loiterers, seemingly bored to death, stood about in similar fashion, all of them smiling cheerfully as they watched the tax officials.

Though these idlers looked no different from common street ruffians, their simple garments were far from ordinary. At the very least, street thugs could never afford fine-spun long-staple cotton garments produced in the pagan territories nestled between the Eastern and Western Continents, and a few of these men even wore gemstone rings. It was abundantly clear that they were spies dispatched by various arrogant young nobles.

To their perceptive eyes, the actions of the tax officials made it plain that someone was making a move against Alham and his companions. First came the testing of boundaries through political influence, followed by step-by-step threats and coercion. Once Alham and the others were backed into a corner with no room left to retreat, it would be the perfect moment to swallow up those two exquisite little beauties in one gulp.

Naturally, there were quite a few young aristocrats in the imperial capital with the authority to command the Ministry of Taxation, and these idlers had no idea which particular young master was behind the scheme. Regardless, it was quite a spectacle. A special cleaning tax and a greening tax? What delightfully absurd concepts; the capital's social circles would undoubtedly relish gossiping about these unprecedented new terms for the next two or three months.

Exchanging knowing glances, the crowd remained mutually silent, a tacit understanding passing among them. Lin Qi and Long Cheng were taken for fellow operatives, and everyone wore enigmatic grins as they watched the tax officials standing by the gate like the very embodiment of imperial law.

"Do you know what the lemons on those tricorn hats signify?" Lin Qi asked Long Cheng in a low voice.

Before Long Cheng could reply, an idler standing nearby let out a muffled chuckle. "Heh, brother, which noble house do you serve? That question is utterly damn hilarious. Who doesn't know that it means these tax officers can squeeze the very last drop of juice from a shriveled lemon? Heh, I truly wonder who designed that cap badge for the Ministry of Taxation; they must have had a deep grudge against those greedy bastards!"

Lin Qi spread his hands with a smile, nodding to the idler. "Wretched tax officials!"

The idler let out a light sigh, nodding in profound agreement. "May they descend into hell soon and revel with the demons!"

As the idlers chatted and joked among themselves, Torin, whose face was as dark as could be, turned and slammed the door shut. He hurried back toward the main building and stomped indignantly into the receiving parlor that Lin Qi and Titian had visited the previous night.

Inside the spacious parlor, Alham hovered lightly in midair, his legs crossed and his hands formed into a bizarre seal resting upon his knees, a faint, pure radiance emanating from his entire body. That clear, luminous glow, resembling the first ray of spring morning light, was soft and gentle, filling the entire parlor with a sacred and solemn aura. It seemed as though every speck of dust in the room had been banished by this light.

Ya and Ling sat behind the floor-to-ceiling windows, each holding a thick, ancient manual of divine arts, gazing with gloomy eyes at the winter garden outside. Within fifty meters of the main building, flowers bloomed in profusion as if it were spring, while beyond that fifty-meter mark lay a dreary, ash-gray lawn, forming a stark and vivid contrast.

A faint, ethereal red glow flickered between the brows of Ya and Ling. Their auras were deeply connected, and raging heat waves were contained within a three-inch space around their bodies, preventing a single wisp of heat from leaking outward. The thermal energy released from within them was so astonishing that they appeared wrapped inside two massive blocks of red crystal, the terrifying heat almost solidifying upon their skin.

With a dark expression, Torin strode into the parlor and said in a deep voice, "Alham, it's the tax officials of this damned country. They want to collect two inexplicable taxes from us. By the God of Ice and Snow, I have never heard of such taxes!"

Alham slowly opened his eyes. Within his eye sockets was a boundless void of white light, devoid of the slightest emotion. At this moment, Alham possessed not a shred of human warmth, appearing entirely like some kind of puppet or the spiritual projection of another world.

"Taxes? How much money do we have left?" Alham asked indifferently.

Torin shrugged and looked toward Ya and Ling. Concentrating fiercely on controlling the fire-energy around their bodies, Ya and Ling spoke in unison, "One hundred and twenty gold coins, seven silver coins, and thirteen copper coins. Until reinforcements from our family arrive, this is all the money we have."

Alham let out a low sigh. "This is truly troublesome. In the Church, those detestable worms would have already been put on trial. But this is the Gallic Empire, the place where we have come to proclaim the glory of the divine. This is our first time acting outside the protection of our family; if word gets out that we lost all our operational funds the moment we left home, it will be unfavorable for all of us."

Torin sighed deeply, shaking his head. "Extremely unfavorable! Ya and Ling are fine; they have no other brothers or sisters. But Alham, you and I—hell, you have twelve brothers eyeing your position with hostility, and I have nine! Not to mention those bastards competing with you and me for our target positions. We absolutely cannot let outsiders learn of our plight."

Alham's completely devoid-of-humanity gaze swept across the parlor. He sighed softly, "Any piece of furnishings here is worth a fortune, but this is a secret stronghold of the Church. Even a single flower is registered on record. If we were to sell even a single drinking cup, that stingy old bastard would throw us into the black dungeons for three years!"

With a bitter laugh, Torin shook his head. "Alham, the Holy Glory Cathedral is right..."

Alham shook his head, stating coldly, "My teacher is currently the Scepter Archbishop of the Holy Glory Cathedral, but I am not his only student. Between myself and my rivals, I cannot be certain whose side he is on. We cannot seek help from him, nor can we even let him know we have arrived!"

Torin emitted a low sigh, and Ya and Ling's brows furrowed tightly together.

Alham let out a long sigh and sneered, "There is no other way. We can only use the sins deep within the souls of these sinners to tide us through this period. Remember, we are here to proclaim the glory of the divine, so we are bound to deal with these sinners."

The white light in his eyes gradually dissipated, and Alham drifted slowly down to the floor. He narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment and nodded, "Ya, Ling, accompany me to visit Titian, the grandson of the Prime Minister from the Huali family yesterday. Very well, since matters have reached this point, let us make him our breakthrough point and let him become the first torch to let the glory of the divine shine upon the Gallic Empire!"

Ya and Ling acknowledged the command, reined in their fiery auras, and stood up together.