I will be crowned king

In the square area, the "Pious Faith" chapel.

The large activity room was filled with large and small luggage boxes, and some of them that had been opened still contained remaining cotton cloth, spirits, salt, fire tongs, and medicine boxes labeled "Military Use"; the air was filled with a strong smell. The smell of alcohol is enough to make a newly sober drunkard drunk immediately.

All the original Universalist believers had been dispersed, replaced by a line of infantrymen from the Storm Division with live ammunition, surrounding the entire chapel from the inside out.

Outside a door with "Emergency" hanging on it, Anson sat silently on a crate and waited; next to him, Carl Bain, with two dark circles under his eyes, was sleeping soundly while biting an unlit cigarette.

Soon, the same listless military chief, Hank, pushed open the door and walked out. His pipe had been extinguished and had gone cold at the corner of his mouth. He put his hands in his pockets and stepped forward seriously.

"How about it?"

Gently leaning the adjutant's head on his shoulder against the wall, Anson stood up and stepped forward to ask.

"The Protection of the Order, it's no big deal anymore."

Hank waved his hand and fumbled for matches with his hands in his pockets: "The ones with the most serious burns... are definitely disfigured, but at least their lives and hands and feet are saved; the two unlucky guys may have inhaled a lot of dust and will probably be injured for the rest of their lives. You have to cough while talking; the rest are just flesh wounds, which can be recovered within two or three months of training."

"These are all fine. The most serious ones are the throat and mouth. The most serious burns are actually the eyes, ears, and the lower parts. A wanted criminal I arrested back then was burned by hot coal briquettes..."

"the wanted?"

"Ah! I'm talking about... a patient who is usually not easy to see. He... accidentally dropped the burning briquettes into his pants, and then sat on the stove... probably..." the military doctor said. Yawned:

"I'm sorry, Commander-in-Chief, I haven't slept all night; people with low energy will inevitably speak with lisp."

Yes, I haven't slept all night, so I don't know the story of the legendary bounty hunter "Hank the Black Mask"... Anson smiled slightly and handed him the match:

"Thank you, Chief Medical Officer."

"It's just duty."

After taking a strong drag on the pipe and exhaling a long wisp of smoke, Hank's face finally showed a bit of relaxed joy: "If possible, please move these burn patients out as soon as possible. It's cold and empty." The chapel is really not a place suitable for 'recuperation'."

"A warm room, patient care, and exquisite food - especially those with burns in their throats and mouths - are what they need. Medicine and a bed are not enough."

"I have already vacated the Luen Mansion. It's so cold. It's better to wait for them to recover first and then send them to the barracks in the military camp for recuperation." Anson nodded slightly:

"Then it's up to you to ensure the safety of these people - medicine, food, manpower, protection. As long as you ask, I will try my best to deliver it."

"Don't worry, even if the Ring of Order summons you, I will find a way to fight for it."

Hank smiled tiredly: "No matter how painful it is to be alive, it is still ten thousand times better than death."

"I couldn't agree more with this." Anson raised the corners of his mouth slightly.

He turned around, and the smile on his face was instantly replaced by coldness.

The newspaper responsible for publishing "The Good People of Beluga Harbor" is not only the public opinion mouthpiece of the Luen family and the Stormtroopers in Beluga Harbor, but also an important tool for guiding topics and collecting intelligence. It is also the earliest "industry" established in Beluga Harbor. ; Its employees are the first batch of its own people to "swear allegiance".

The other party burned down the newspaper office, destroyed the printing presses and newspapers, and attacked employees... This was not just an attack on its own public opinion control and intelligence network.

If attacking the bottom line of newspaper development and providing news information to local people in other colonies was to undermine the ability to collect intelligence, then now it is directly shaking the foundation of its own local rule.

If the absolute safety of "one's own people" cannot be guaranteed, and even if they are unable to immediately launch retaliation and deterrence after being attacked, those disobedient hearts that have been eliminated will resurface.

What's more... this is probably the first time that the enemy has not attacked himself, but the people around him.

Yes, the other party actually doesn't care about the life and death of these people at all. The person he really wants to target is himself - or the Storm Master and the Rune family; but the anger from the bottom of his heart is stronger than the fact that he himself was deceived and sneak attacked.

"Sir, it's almost time for you to prepare to leave..."

The little clerk approached cautiously and looked at Anson very carefully. He didn't even remember that the Commander-in-Chief in front of him had ever been so angry:

"The preparations for the ceremony have been completed, and we can start just waiting for you to arrive; but, let's inform them now to cancel the ceremony and choose another time..."

"Is the carriage ready?"

Anson looked at Alan Dawn calmly and interrupted.

"Right outside the door!"

The little secretary, who was so excited that he didn't dare to say any more, quickly bowed and saluted, stepped back and made way for the road behind him.

Without giving any further instructions, Anson took off the three-cornered hat from the sleeping Carl's head and put it on himself, walked towards the door of the chapel, and boarded the four-wheel carriage that was already armed to the teeth with Alan Dawn who was following suit.

……………………

City center, Beluga Harbor Council of Five Hundred.

When the carriage slowly stopped outside the gate, the square surrounding the Harold statue was already crowded with people...MPs, chambers of commerce, the Promise Keepers League, committees, and various old and new immigrants came spontaneously or "by invitation".

Like those new immigrants who have no impression of the "former speaker", the driving force behind their coming is the Stormtrooper and a certain commander-in-chief; the old immigrants who really understand what happened - or can probably guess - , also not here to express condolences to this old boss.

After all, in the era of Harold's "reign", everyone can see what the state of Beluga Harbor was like; they are not ignorant of his intention to become the true ruler of the colony or even become independent; as a careerist, he was represented by Clovis If the storm division of the local force is killed, he will be considered a "deserving death".

Of course, there are always exceptions to everything...

In the crowded crowd, a group of figures wearing the same black double-breasted long-sleeved coats and white silk scarves on their chests stand out like a flock of chickens in the front row near the statue, surrounded by a man sitting on an armchair with distracted eyes and an abnormal expression. lady.

“Those people are the ‘Harold Foundation’ that just appeared not long ago.”

Sensing Anson's gaze, Speaker Mason, who came to greet him, immediately approached and whispered: "Farmers, small business people, handicraft workshops... all of them are not living a good life in the first place. Harold is dead." The 'lonely souls and wild ghosts' are becoming more and more difficult every day."

"They couldn't survive, so they gathered around Harold's widow to defraud her of her inheritance. They also used the name of the committee to ask for 'funds' from Parliament, organized various activities to commemorate Harold, or published some old stories in newspapers at their own expense. thing, to protect the tradition and glory of Beluga Harbor.”

"Precisely because this is their only way to make money, they were really happy when they learned that you were going to pay homage to the Harold statue."

Mason couldn't help but snort when he said this, obviously disdainful of the so-called "glory".

So obviously I just dealt with it casually, but the reason why I was taken seriously was because of this... Anson's expression was somewhat clear: "Are these people still very influential now?"

"Influence? Not at all!"

Mason immediately shook his head: "But there are indeed many people who... sympathize with them, especially most of the members of the five-hundred-person parliament; so even if they know that this foundation is a group of liars, everyone is still willing to lend a hand."

As the only person in the council who knew the truth about Harold's death, Mason paused when he said "sympathy" and carefully paid attention to the expression of the person in front of him. He made sure that nothing had changed before he dared to continue.

Anson just nodded slightly. Although he was a little concerned about the so-called "Immortal Harold", he did not feel that this kind of club of losers deserved his too much attention; deliberately interfering could easily arouse some people's empathy, and he was not interested in it. It’s not very friendly to maintain unity.

And if they were really related to the black mage behind the Faithless Knights, it would save him a lot of trouble.

After a little comforting Mason, who was still a little nervous, Anson looked around and walked towards the statue alone.

Not far away from the edge of the crowd, Alexei, who was responsible for maintaining order, saw that familiar figure and immediately roared to him:

"Everyone take their seats - salute!"

"salute!!!!"

Uniform shouts sounded around the ceremony site, and the privates of the Storm Division line who put on winter uniforms raised their rifles with both hands.

The polished bayonet glistened in the cold wind, and the thick windbreaker and wide fur hat made him appear to be much taller than the surrounding audience; combined with the neat movements and roars, it gave him a full sense of oppression.

In the dead cold wind, Anson slowly took out the speech prepared by the little secretary:

"Today, we once again pay tribute to a hero of Beluga Harbor; I remember the last time I stood here, when I presided over his funeral..."

"Harold Lefkas, he is a leader worthy of the respect of all Beluga residents, and someone we all should learn from; he showed great achievements in fighting the darkness and the enemies who tried to destroy the peace and happiness of Beluga Harbor. His courage shows the most beautiful temperament this land has..."

Anson talked eloquently to the audience, and when he felt better, he no longer even looked at the speech script, and simply started to express himself.

Anyway, no matter how you say it, the core theme is something that has been repeated many times before: "Beluga Harbor is the Beluga Port for Beluga residents", "Beluga Harbor has special and excellent qualities", "Beluga Harbor will become a new "The lighthouse of the world", "When one Harold falls, millions of Beluga residents will stand up"...

For former Speaker Harold, who swallowed the "Evil God's Egg", turned into a walking tumor, and was finally blown up to the sky, uniting the entire White Whale Port is his only remaining value.

The ceremony was carried out in an orderly manner, probably because of the strong presence of 300 heavily armed Stormtroopers soldiers. Even the "Harold Foundation", which was the most active in this event, did not show any abnormality. The whole process was very smooth. The quietness.

After the speech ended successfully, the next step was to pay tribute to the statue, and then Harold's widow and family members took the stage, with Anson expressing "concerned condolences" on behalf of the parliament and the command.

In the end, everyone paid sincere condolences to the former Speaker's "cemetery", and then they could forget about him and go about their business.

And just then, an accident happened.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"

Harold's widow, who was being helped to her feet and looking at the statue, suddenly widened her eyes, stretched out her right hand and pointed at the top of the statue, and let out a heartbreaking scream.

Um? !

Anson on the stage immediately tensed up his nerves. Just when he thought the statue brought back some unbearable memories for her, the originally quiet crowd below the stage also exclaimed in surprise.

"Ah! That, that is..."

"No way, no way..."

"This, is this..."

The originally quiet ceremony scene suddenly fell into commotion. Alexey, who noticed something was wrong from a distance, immediately blew the bugle and ordered the soldiers to suppress it; but for a scene of thousands of people, 300 soldiers obviously could not do this immediately.

Anson subconsciously looked back at the statue, and his pupils suddenly shrank.

Dark red blood slowly overflowed from the eyes, nostrils and corners of the mouth of "Harold" who held the torch high, and gradually infected the entire upper body, dripping like a gurgling stream onto the makeshift podium.

boom----

Just when Anson started to think about it from the shock, a strong burning pain suddenly came from his chest; the biting coldness pierced the back of his neck like a substance and seeped into his consciousness.

By the time he realized something was wrong, he had lost control of his hands and feet. His whole body seemed to be penetrated by hundreds of nails from top to bottom, and he stood still unable to move.

But Anson was not nervous... He had two smoke bombs and grenades hidden in his sleeves. As long as he forcibly activated [Smoke Man] or even just expanded the casting range, he could immediately relieve the current state; because of this, he was not in a hurry to take action immediately.

He can now be 100% sure that the black mage who controls the Faithless Knights behind the scenes is here!

And he must die in public in this ceremony in the form of being "cursed by Harold's undead"!

After confirming this, Anson, who pretended to still be trying to break free, "desperately" controlled his right hand, 'Bang! ’ and twitched his index finger.

The "superpower" that was activated instantly reflected everything within a thirty-meter diameter range into his mind.

Since the other party came to the door on his own initiative, Anson was not going to be polite - he would directly confirm the identity of the black mage here, arrest him on the spot and then shoot him to death!

Only ten seconds passed from the time something abnormal happened to the statue to Anson being "controlled". The panicked people at the scene didn't even notice anything unusual about the commander-in-chief on the stage. They were still screaming, shouting, and talking in panic. .

The next second, gunshots were heard from the crowd!