Herald of Steel

Alexander, completely unaware of the malicious happenings of last night, instead woke up with a refreshed mind to a snug, chilly morning.

A morning that was filled with spring scenery.

In his arms still lay Lady Nanazin, her lips gently snuggling against his neck, while her body was plastered so tightly against him that he could feel her every curve, both those bludged outward like her breasts and thighs and those that sunk inwards like her groin, which the lady seemed very willing to grind against his swollen ones, rubbing her lips against his glans and producing a wet mucus in the endeavor.

A sensation that Alexander very much enjoyed, and thus could not help but bring over his hand onto her bare butt and start squeezing it, eliciting a dreamy moan from the half sleepy woman.

And Alexander was about to release his dragon from his pants and fully take her to enjoy her warm, wet insides, when…

*Bang!* *Bang!*, *Bang!*

The silence of the dreamy atmosphere was shattered by the rude pounding on the bedroom door, as a deep, masculine voice pierced through with great alarm,

"My lord! It happened again…the attack on the temples!. The people are even more enraged. They have even sent a mob here! Look out your window!"

Those few words were enough to instantly kick away any sleep or amorous thoughts that Alexander might have had.

Instead, he sprung himself out of bed like a shot cannonball, and almost jumped over toward the windows, from where he was able to detect the faint but certainly present various angry murmurs that were beginning to filter through the newly installed clear glass panel windows.

"Wha… what's wrong?" And even before he could peer out, he found that he had been joined by his 'bedmate', the lady still wearing her sexy, black nightie.

Which at any other the would have loved to appreciate her in it, as the bright sunlight clearly showed all her curves.

But now he was in no such mood.

And neither was Lady Nanazin, who had a very frightful face as she glanced down.

And through the large square slits that were carved into the stone, the duo observed the streets below- where not one but several rows of angry men and women making their way towards the mansion from various adjacent streets, their numbers filling the road to the brim for hundreds of meters to even a kilometer.

Many of them were even armed, holding various homemade weapons such as pitchforks, axes, hammers, clubs, and sometimes something as simple as pots and pans.

And they appeared to be shouting various phrases, which Alexander could not quite pick up due to the distance but nonetheless understood they were very angry.

Although Alexander could not hear it, the legionaries who were guarding the streets and those who understood Galisian certainly could comprehend,

"There! Look! There is the mansion! There is the scum who burned our temples and dishonored our gods. Just like Lord Parker told us!"

"That's right! Cmy brothers! Cwith me! Together, no one can stop us from catching and burning the bastard alive!"

"Yes! He is the reason my wife starved and my children perished …because I was driven out of my business and could not afford food or medicine. Noble or not… he must pay!"

"Kill him! Take his ships! Bring back our gold!"

"Foreigner! He is not one of us. He is a devil here to destroy us."

"Go! Go! Go! The gods demand it! For the priests! For the priestesses!"

Amongst the crowd were mixed both genuinely enraged men as well as inciters installed by the Heeat family, whose sole job was to urge and steer the crowd forward, leading them, inciting them, and adding fuel to their rage.

And judging by the sheer wrathful heat this mass of crowd was emitting, it was clear they were doing a great job at it.

The crowd surged on with a vengeful momentum, having bought Lord Parker's simple narrative at face value- hook, line, and sinker.

*Bang*, *Bang*, *Bang*,

That was until they chead to head with the legionaries.

There they suddenly stopped …. as they saw the armed soldiers that were guarding the streets unsheath their steel swords and start banging them against their huge, wooden shields, signaling this was their last warning.

If the crowd got any closer, blood would be spilled and it would be most of them who would be cut to ribbons.

Seeing this hesitation, however, sof the inciters tried to get the mob moving again, shouting, "Have no fear brothers! The gods are with us. Charge! They will not dare hurt us."

"Are you not sons of Caira? What are we afraid of? There are tens of thousands of us, and there are only a few hundred of them."

"These are the foreign devils protecting the violators of our gods. Can we let them deter us? Can we call ourselves the sons of Caira if we shirk away now?"

You have got to hand it to them.

How many Cairans could stop their blood from boiling over hearing this?

However….

*Bang*, *Bang*, *Bang*

The dreadful sound of once again the sword hitting the shield managed to break the mob out of their frenzy, and as they cto their senses, the naked threat of steel and blood emanating from the menacing looking soldiers suddenly proved to be too lethal a deterrence.

Especially when they were now further joined by a brand new row of crossbowmen units.

Looking at the shielded and armored men, their eyes hidden behind their steel helmets and their weapons glinting in the winter sun, not even the 'divine' cause of the gods was able to get the men moving.

Most were there because they saw their friends and family join too, and had been basically swept up in the spur of the moment.

But now that metal was about to meet the mettle, the disorderly mob found dithering.

None of them wanted to charge and be the one to die.

Because was that surely going to happen if they were to engage a well dug-in shielded enemy, who had a decade of experience of expertly butchering men- this unorganized mass of people were going to die.

They stood no chance and they knew that.

Thus, all of a sudden, the force of men cto a halt, at a distance of only about ten meters from the legionaries- that short divide which could be covered only in a few seconds appeared now to be like a neverending gaping abyss.

No one was brave enough to step forward.

And when sof the inciters tried to once again push them forward despite the danger, many in the crowd began irritated by the names they were calling them and turned to suggest that they take the lead,

"Hey! I heard you scream your throat out from the back for hours. Given you are so eager, why don't you cforward and show us how it is done?"

This however was a dealbreaker for these 'patriotic' heroes.

'What! Take those armed men with only clubs and axes? Have you seen the size of their shields?' The men scoffed inside and then made various pathetic excuses to shirk away.

Such as, "At least, I'm shouting. Increasing our morale. What are you doing? If you have nothing better to do, then go fight!"

The accusing and holier than thou attitude did not impress anyone.

In this way, when the crowd was just ten meters away from creating a bloodbath, they started quibbling among themselves and all of a sudden lost all their stored momentum.

In the minds of the fickle public, they were as quick to turn Alexander into a villain as they were even to forget about him and instead turn on each other.

This was a prexample of the dangers of trying to incite a crowd to do your bidding.

They might very well do it, but they might very well do something completely illogical.

And this was what Lord Parker had feared the most, which was why he was apprehensive about using this method in the first.

However was unable to veto it given the unanimous support from his other retainers.

Hence, upon seeing the entire unfolding scenafrom the back, the usually very competent Lord Parker felt like slapping his head and curving these imbeciles.

He also began to realize the many other mistakes he had made.

Such as not firing up the mob enough.

He realized that although he attacked the temples and killed the priests, which were usually very touchy matters, the people in the crowd were not personally affected.

Meaning it was the priests and priestesses who died, not the fathers, mothers, and daughters of the people.

Thus, although the people were very much willing to demand justice for their faith, that did not mean they were willing to jump into a blood pit and die in droves for it.

The personal connection was simply not there.

Meaning Lord Parker had prematurely deployed them, wasting a lot of his gathered momentum.

Momentum he would now have to once again gather.

As right before his eyes, the threatening mob slowly started to crumble and they soon vanished.