Time flowed like water, and the grand holiday approached.

The term ‘grand holiday’ meant that opera season had arrived in Levania.

The opera street during the grand holiday period was almost like a festival.

People walking around in shockingly extravagant carnival costumes, various visitors from distant foreign countries, and merchants enticing people with all kinds of opera merchandise.

During this opera season when everyone was excited, all attention focused on the new opera showing at the Cissus Opera House.

“Will it really premiere this season? Why hasn’t even a poster been released yet? I’m going crazy with curiosity when nothing is being revealed.”

“I know! Surely they won’t cancel it this time? Rumors say that Hadelbair from Ainsic participated as the composer.”

“Oh my goodness, Hadelbair? My children only listen to Hadelbair’s lullabies……! I’m so curious!”

Whenever noblewomen gathered, they talked about Luka Raus’s new work.

Its popularity was so great that inquiries flooded into the opera house every day.

The grand holiday break lasted about 7 days, but Levania generally considered the grand holiday period to be about 2 weeks.

It was exactly one week before the grand holiday season began.

While other opera theaters were busy promoting their shows for this season, the front of the Cissus Opera House remained quiet.

They had even reduced the number of previous productions, making it even more leisurely than usual.

That quietness stimulated people more.

When everyone’s attention focused there, people with thoroughly angry faces gathered secretly.

People who would be too busy to even scream with joy—the merchant alliance of Karien.

* * *

Bang—!

“Listen, did you all see that poster yesterday?”

“Why wouldn’t I have seen it! Aren’t we gathered today because of that! I thought we shouldn’t just sit back when they demolished streets to build La Foudre, but…… Ha!”

In Quirtue, famous for its wine street, there was a merchants’ association that met once a month.

It was a meeting where all the prominent store owners in Karien gathered to discuss the urban environment, related taxes, or plan necessary construction projects by pooling funds.

This time, the merchants’ association was held a bit earlier because it overlapped with the grand holiday season.

But just one day before the merchants’ association meeting, that is, exactly yesterday at dawn, something strange happened.

“Who on earth posted that writing?”

“Is that important right now? What matters is that we’re not only being thoroughly exploited but also treated like vermin!”

Someone had posted a large poster with bold, powerful handwriting in the back alleys of the city.

It detailed the nobles’ debauchery, the taxpayers’ money being used for it, and the cruelty of the methods used to misappropriate it.

‘Th-th-those rotten nobles!’

It stated that one grand noble in particular treated the royal treasury as his private property, not only increasing his wealth but also arbitrarily arresting people and using them like slaves.

Even without specifying who, everyone knew.

The name that rose like the sweetness in one’s throat after running breathlessly.

‘Tartien……!’

The merchants boiled with anger.

The name Tartien made their teeth chatter with rage.

The upper house nobles centered around Tartien had often advocated double and triple taxation on people doing business in the capital.

They collected more money during peak seasons simply because they were peak seasons, and created special noble laws to completely escape the tax net themselves, which was utterly despicable.

‘Not only do they steal my money, but they also use it however they please?’

Some merchants whose eyes rolled back at the mention of money couldn’t contain their anger and spat on the street.

Since the poster appeared just before the merchants’ association meeting, nearly a hundred merchants gathered today and talked about nothing else.

“This, this is truly outrageous, isn’t it? Why should we fill the pockets of nobles who do nothing but play?”

“Didn’t we all know this already when they demolished the streets to build La Foudre or whatever? Nobles don’t see us as fellow humans! Do you think they would even blink if we died with our intestines spilled out before them?”

“My son died at that construction site! They turned my healthy boy into a piece of meat and just threw him away! And not a single word from them until now. Does this make any sense? Does this make any sense?!”

Quirtue was a fairly large wine shop, but today it was so packed with people it seemed about to burst.

Everyone tried to speak over each other, making it noisier than a marketplace.

Right then, someone climbed onto a huge oak wine barrel and shouted.

“Are we pigs and dogs meant to die for them?”

“No!”

Everyone shouted “no” with one voice.

“Then are we bugs that can be crushed to death at their slightest gesture?!”

“Of course not!”

“What is the boundary between nobles and commoners? If there is a god, why does he only stand on their side? No, that’s not it. They are using even god for their own interests!”

“That’s right!”

“We will no longer endure this!”

“If we remain like this, we will live our entire lives having our lifeblood sucked by them until we die. And it’s not just us. Will we let our children and their children live like us too?”

An emotion beyond anger rose on the merchants’ faces.

We have already lived like this, but our children cannot live the same way.

They absolutely cannot!

They all stood up, clenched their fists, and shouted.

“We will never allow that to happen!”

The people’s murmuring was taking more and more shape.

They all shouted hotly and desperately, like people engulfed in flames.

“Let’s bring down the nobles!”

“Let’s bring them down! We have already suffered enough!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The man standing on the wine barrel stomped his feet and shouted.

“The times are changing! Now money, not blood, will determine class. Money! The nobles know this too, so they’re trying to control all the money flow, aren’t they? But if we stay like this, we will still live and die as commoners even in this new era that’s coming. This is not right. This! This is absolutely not right!”

The murmuring crowd erupted in cheers.

With determined eyes, they followed the man standing on the oak barrel and stomped their feet—thump, thump, thump.

“What else could the union between the king and Tartien mean except to solidify their vested interests? Everyone, we must stop this. We must! We must stop it!”

The man’s words resonated throughout Quirtue, which was packed with merchants.

That heavy resonance drummed against people’s hearts.

They stomped their feet—thump, thump, thump—and shouted.

“This time, let’s show the power of angry citizens!”

And the very next day.

The Cissus Opera House’s new opera.

The poster for 〈Burning Spring〉 was hung on the streets.

The people who flocked to see the poster couldn’t hide their amazement.

“……It has…… colors?”

It was a truly revolutionary print, completely different from any previous printed material.

It was on a completely different level from prints that merely used colored paper with black letters or copied black images onto white paper like newspapers.

The poster conveyed vivid colors and emotions as if it had just left a painter’s hand.

Color printing!

The shock of this new technology from across the Atlantic completely captivated people’s attention.

“What could this mansion be? It’s truly beautiful.”

“I know. I can’t even imagine what this opera will be about.”

The image of the mansion from the young owner’s memories who loved the Buchanan mansion came alive vividly like a photograph, striking the viewers’ vision.

* * *

“……What, another protest?”

At Landers’ words, Schultz slammed his desk and stood up.

He couldn’t even count how many times this had happened.

Recently, people denouncing the nobles had been appearing throughout the capital, marching in the streets.

They didn’t cause huge disturbances but simply marched with pickets, holding annoying demonstrations questioning why only nobles should enjoy privileges.

Naturally, why should he explain anything to them?

“Haah…… These people have gone mad. Well, it’s obvious. They’re asking for tax reductions. Or they intend to eliminate noble privileges.”

“I dispersed the protest on Fondre Street, but we don’t know when or where another might occur, Father.”

“Yes, this is already the fourth time.”

Schultz agreed, pressing his throbbing forehead.

He glared at his desk for a while, then urged Landers as if he had just remembered something.

“More importantly, Landers. You obtained ‘that’ this time, right? Show it to me now.”