Chapter 72

“So, what exactly are those things you had me prepare for?”

Greya asked curiously while looking at Lynn, who was leaning over the railing of the high platform.

At that moment, the two were at the top of an incredibly tall building, where a massive brass bell hung in the center, its old and worn design reflecting its long history.

It was clearly the highest point of a clock tower.

This clock tower, known as the Lunnan Bell Tower, is one of the most iconic structures in Orlen City, funded by the city council, and stands a towering one hundred sixty-nine meters tall, making it the tallest in the city.

It’s been around for over three hundred years.

Outside the Lunnan Bell Tower, there is the city hall in the southern district, along with an expansive city square in front of it.

Right in the center of the square stands a statue commemorating the city’s first speaker.

But none of that is the main point.

The main point is that the view from where Lynn was standing was incredible, allowing him to take in most of the street block.

Surprisingly, the city square, usually quiet on a day off, was packed with all sorts of people for some unknown reason.

Even from a distance, they could faintly hear the murmur of discussions.

Without turning around, Lynn replied to Greya’s question, “Those things? Of course, they’re for collecting donations.”

Last night, upon returning to the manor, he had instructed Greya to have twelve giant glass donation boxes made, clear enough to see inside from outside.

Moreover, each glass box had an opening at the top.

Back then, Greya had no clue what this was for.

Now it seemed like it was simply a donation box but made to be huge and transparent.

“Donations?” Greya paused for a few seconds, then looked at him skeptically, “What’s the difference between this and the charity gala hosted by the Duke?”

“The difference is that he’s begging on his knees, and I’m just taking it straight,” Lynn laughed.

This only confused Greya even more.

But this guy just loved to keep people guessing.

“Are you trying to make money off the poor?”

“How could I?”

“Then who do you want to make money from?”

“Whoever’s got money, that’s who I’ll take it from,” Lynn’s tone was cryptic. “Anyway, I’ll take the heat for making the nobles and the church suffer.”

For some reason, looking at Lynn’s back, which was radiating a sense of concern for the country and the people, Greya suddenly felt like slapping him.

In the center of the city square, a row of transparent glass donation boxes had mysteriously appeared.

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

Counting carefully, there were twelve glass boxes in total.

Each box was of identical size, neatly lined up together.

No one knew what this number really represented.

As the bizarre objects stood on the originally empty city square, many citizens paused to look.

Some were just passing by and stumbled upon this sight, while others had heard the news and rushed to join the crowd.

Orlen City isn’t too small or too big; with about eighty to ninety thousand residents, any sudden big news would spread throughout the city in just a couple of days.

At that moment, as people gazed at those boxes, a mutual curiosity about their purpose arose.

Could it have something to do with the new tax law the city council was about to announce?

“What do you think these boxes are for?”

Someone in the crowd asked quietly amidst the noise.

“No idea, maybe… they’re for gathering public opinions?”

Another person shrugged and made a poorly timed joke.

“Wait, looks like someone’s coming!”

At that moment, some sharp-eyed folks in the front of the crowd noticed something. A squad of private guards in Augusta family standard armor approached, carrying some items towards the twelve glass boxes in the center of the square.

This drew the attention of many onlookers once again.

It seemed these strange occurrences were orchestrated by the Augusta family.

Since the family usually had a good reputation and kept a low profile, they didn’t stir any rebellious sentiments among the crowd.

Under numerous gazes, the guards began hanging boards inscribed with texts in a specific order on the front of the twelve glass boxes.

People instinctively looked towards the boards.

Upon reading the inscriptions, they all stood dumbfounded.

Church of Heavenly Justice, Silence Church, Harvest Church, Blight Cult, War God Cathedral, Yadur Knowledge Society, Silan Sect… the letters were neatly arranged yet brief.

Just as they saw, each board bore the name of a local church in Orlen City.

Moreover, each board corresponded to an empty glass box.

Seeing this, the crowd suddenly understood.

There were twelve glass boxes precisely corresponding to the twelve well-known churches in the area.

Since Orlen City is located at the border, it has a relatively relaxed control over religious practices.

Additionally, being near other countries allows various foreign beliefs to take root.

For instance, the national religion of the Dust Sand Nation, Tutka Mon, is the War God Cathedral.

Those strength-worshipping folks hadn’t given up on their small patch of land within the Saint Roland Empire.

Plus, given that this area is already close to the demon battlefield and frequently war-torn, over time, they had drawn a large number of loyal followers.

There are several similar churches.

However, compared to the three main churches of the Saint Roland Empire – Heavenly Justice, Silence, and Harvest – they seemed weaker.

Furthermore, due to conflicts in doctrine, these churches had their fair share of hidden frictions.

At the moment, the actions of the Augusta family’s members left everyone in confusion.

What in the world were they trying to pull? Not just those present, but even many nobles and clergy members lurking in carriages or hiding in the shadows were scratching their heads in bewilderment.

Fortunately, soon enough, the confusion unraveled.

As they gazed at the glass donation boxes inscribed with church names, the guards brought over some ladders and climbed up to hang banners.

Then, the first banner was unveiled.

It displayed a long string of text that everyone could clearly decipher.

“Each year, about thirty percent of soldiers who become disabled in war retire, and according to incomplete statistics, many of these disabled veterans often struggle to reintegrate into society after leaving the army, lacking any security in their lives.”

As the crowd read the contents of the banner, their eyes widened.

What does this mean? Clearly, no one could grasp the situation.

However, moments later, another banner was hung beneath the first one.

“Another piece of data shows that within three years of retirement, sixty percent of these disabled veterans will suffer from mental illnesses, even resorting to suicide.”

It looks like the group of disabled veterans they’d never paid attention to faced such a tragic fate after their service? People exchanged glances, unsure of what to say.

Then, the third and fourth banners were hung up.

“The Southern Province Governor, Duke Tilius, urges local churches and nobles in Orlen City to donate generously.”

“We can’t let those soldiers who fought for our homeland bleed and shed tears!”

The square fell into an unusually rare collective silence.

At that moment, compared to their former confusion about what was happening, the crowd was now entirely captivated by the content displayed on the banners.

So this was a donation drive? But it seemed the target wasn’t ordinary people like them, but rather the local churches and nobles.

People’s minds began to work.

Finally, the fifth banner was hoisted above the twelve large glass boxes.

It was incredibly eye-catching.

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