When A Mage Revolts 
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BG
Chapter 848: The Black Nightmare Society
Chapter 848: The Black Nightmare Society
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The next morning, many discovered the "graffiti" on the wall in the warehouse district.
In actual fact, compared with the graffiti that had appeared previously, what had come up now could be considered a mural or carvings, as though some craftsman had used his knife to forcefully carve it all out. When the priest of the local church had hurriedly arrived, he immediately looked as though he had a serious headache.
"This… Hasn't this been painted once over? Who did it this time?"
"We're not sure," the guard standing beside him answered, "I've asked the security guards nearby, but they have not noticed anyone suspicious last night. It's likely just a prank."
"A prank? Have you seen what's written on there? This is a great affront to god!" The priest seemed unsatisfied, and immediately turned on the guards, "You have only covered up the insults last time, and have not even caught a single criminal, so what about this now? I'm telling you, continuing on like this will incur god's punishment!"
"Yes, yes, yes…"
The few guards lowered their heads as they received the scolding, saying yes repeatedly. However, some impatience was starting to flash through their eyes.
"I don't care what you say, just find the criminal for me," the priest continued speaking. "As for that thing on this wall, I want you to cover it up quickly!"
Hearing that, the guards lifted their heads again. "Sir… It's carved on, how do we cover it?"
"That's the test god has for you, not for me," The priest gave a somewhat unhappy snort, saying, "don't let anyone else see what's on the wall, otherwise you shall bear the consequences alone, whatever they may be."
Finished speaking, he turned around and left with an ugly expression on his face. The guards watched his back as he left, and exchanged looks, shaking their heads.
"What should we do?" A guard suddenly asked.
"...Whatever, who cares about him!" The leader of the guards suddenly threw his hands up, saying, "the only way to get rid of this is to repair the entire wall with plaster, who's going to pay for that? Leave it, if the members of the Church comes around asking, simply think of some words to fob them off."
"Then… If we really incur god's punishment?"
"That's the fault of those priests," the leader shook his head and turned around, beckoning towards the others, "let's go, there are still things to be done at the City Hall!"
Thus, the members of the Church as well as the officers of the government left, one after another, leaving the slogans and the cartoons in the warehouse district. Slowly, more and more people began to stop by and linger about in the remote and quite warehouse district, thanks to this wall.
The people discussed the posters that had appeared a few days ago, the turbulence in the country, as well as the slogans rebelling against the Church that were increasing on the streets. As for some of the more sensitive observers, they seemed to suddenly notice something, and began to gather in the taverns of the city.
It was midnight, but the taverns were still bustling with activity, as though it were daytime. The tightly packed seats were filled with people. Under the dim, yellow lights, the air, rich with the scent of alcohol, made the conversations even noisier.
No one noticed that a few faces, faces that had rarely appeared in the tavern, were quietly moving about in the crowds.
"Have you seen the wall in the southern warehouses of the city? I don't know who did it, they must really have guts, motherf*cker used a knife to carve on the wall, those people haven't got a clue about what to do…"
"Hey! Are you talking about the words written on the wall?"
"Yeah, what's up? You've got something to say?"
"I've no opinion, but… If you really feel that those words have meaning to them, you can try and understand the Black Nightmare Society."
Every time someone expressed dissatisfaction towards the Church during a discussion in the tavern, there would be people coming over to strike up a conversation, sometimes producing a booklet with no visible title, sometimes mentioning something called the "Black Nightmare Society".
Occasionally, both parties would continue in the conversation. Other times, they would turn their heads and leave after a simple exchange… Basically, if one were to pay close attention, it would not be difficult to discover that a shadow of some organization had appeared in the taverns of Worchester.
"Black Nightmare Society? What's that for?"
"Don't you feel that those things drawn on the wall actually make sense? The Church has collected the biggest sum of money for baptisms, worship, indulgences… But nothing has been done. Don't you feel like picking a bone with the Church too?"
When asked such questions, some people would have fearful expressions and shake their heads in a panic; others, however, would raise their eyebrows, looking interested.
Many of the people who had been asked were already rather tipsy, so it was very difficult for them to hide their glee or disgust. Some of them even got excited and immediately hit it off, reeling off about how much they held the Church in contempt.
Finally, they would either choose to accept the booklet, or to receive an invitation from the other person.
An invitation to join the "Black Nightmare Society".
During those few days, such a sight appeared many times in a few of the taverns in Worchester, which attracted some attention. However, the environment in the taverns had always been messy; it was very difficult to find a few people initiating discussions with ulterior motives. After a few days, such incidents quickly decreased, and slowly, no one cared about them any longer.
However, in the loft of the outpost controlled by the black operation of the Worchester Academy…
"Didn't think that so many people were unhappy with the Church's way of operating."
Benjamin counted the leftover invitations and took a deep, comfortable breath. He could not help but exclaim.
Unquestionably, the people who had been mingling in the taverns these days were him and a few agents of the academy's black operation. After leaving the mural in the warehouse district, they had launched into action and begun recruiting the first batch of rebels in the Kingdom of Helius.
There was recruitment, so there must also be an organization that had taken shape. The Academy of Magic did not belong to any country, but this organization, rebelling against the Church, should represent the Kingdom of Helius as well as the will of the local people. Thus, Benjamin had thought of the name "Black Nightmare Society".
To be the nightmare of the Church. This was what it meant.
"Chuunibyou and old fashioned, even the underground punk bands of the last century wouldn't name themselves that," The System began to spit on his naming ability in a matter-of-fact way. However, Benjamin had already gotten used to it and completely ignored it.
During their spreading of propaganda in the tavern, they had distributed roughly a few hundred invitations. It was not much, but still good enough as their first step. Right now, the key point was that the Church must not be made aware of their operations, and so, everything was still being done in low profile, and the spreading of news about the Black Nightmare Society was maintained in only a small area. Even if the Church were to hear the name, they would feel that it was merely a prank or some group of gangsters, and pay no particular attention.
As for the Declaration of the Freedom of Magic, this was a book that had long been notorious with the Church. Because of that, he tore off the front page of the booklet, and whenever he met those with magical talent while recruiting people in the taverns, he conveniently gave the book away, contributing to the nurturing of the native mages in the Kingdom of Helius.
"I feel… That these people might not be reliable," The King observed everything from the side, and could not help but speak, "a bunch of alcoholics. Is it so that I can only depend on them to reclaim my throne?"
He seemed to have a slight doubts about following Benjamin's decision on this.
"Alcoholics have a power that should not be underestimated as well," Benjamin advised. "It doesn't matter what kind of people they are. What matters is that they are the people of the Kingdom of Helius, and they are very dissatisfied with the Church. That is enough."
At the moment, it was apparent that the King did not comprehend the principle fully.
However, he had no other choice. Nodding, he asked again, "So… How many people do you think will be able to attend the meeting, a few days from now?"
Hearing that, Benjamin scratched his head, saying, "This… Twenty, I guess. If, by then, twenty could make it, I would already be very grateful."
The King was temporarily dumbfounded, and stood rooted to the ground. Speechless.
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The next morning, many discovered the "graffiti" on the wall in the warehouse district.
In actual fact, compared with the graffiti that had appeared previously, what had come up now could be considered a mural or carvings, as though some craftsman had used his knife to forcefully carve it all out. When the priest of the local church had hurriedly arrived, he immediately looked as though he had a serious headache.
"This… Hasn't this been painted once over? Who did it this time?"
"We're not sure," the guard standing beside him answered, "I've asked the security guards nearby, but they have not noticed anyone suspicious last night. It's likely just a prank."
"A prank? Have you seen what's written on there? This is a great affront to god!" The priest seemed unsatisfied, and immediately turned on the guards, "You have only covered up the insults last time, and have not even caught a single criminal, so what about this now? I'm telling you, continuing on like this will incur god's punishment!"
"Yes, yes, yes…"
The few guards lowered their heads as they received the scolding, saying yes repeatedly. However, some impatience was starting to flash through their eyes.
"I don't care what you say, just find the criminal for me," the priest continued speaking. "As for that thing on this wall, I want you to cover it up quickly!"
Hearing that, the guards lifted their heads again. "Sir… It's carved on, how do we cover it?"
"That's the test god has for you, not for me," The priest gave a somewhat unhappy snort, saying, "don't let anyone else see what's on the wall, otherwise you shall bear the consequences alone, whatever they may be."
Finished speaking, he turned around and left with an ugly expression on his face. The guards watched his back as he left, and exchanged looks, shaking their heads.
"What should we do?" A guard suddenly asked.
"...Whatever, who cares about him!" The leader of the guards suddenly threw his hands up, saying, "the only way to get rid of this is to repair the entire wall with plaster, who's going to pay for that? Leave it, if the members of the Church comes around asking, simply think of some words to fob them off."
"Then… If we really incur god's punishment?"
"That's the fault of those priests," the leader shook his head and turned around, beckoning towards the others, "let's go, there are still things to be done at the City Hall!"
Thus, the members of the Church as well as the officers of the government left, one after another, leaving the slogans and the cartoons in the warehouse district. Slowly, more and more people began to stop by and linger about in the remote and quite warehouse district, thanks to this wall.
The people discussed the posters that had appeared a few days ago, the turbulence in the country, as well as the slogans rebelling against the Church that were increasing on the streets. As for some of the more sensitive observers, they seemed to suddenly notice something, and began to gather in the taverns of the city.
It was midnight, but the taverns were still bustling with activity, as though it were daytime. The tightly packed seats were filled with people. Under the dim, yellow lights, the air, rich with the scent of alcohol, made the conversations even noisier.
No one noticed that a few faces, faces that had rarely appeared in the tavern, were quietly moving about in the crowds.
"Have you seen the wall in the southern warehouses of the city? I don't know who did it, they must really have guts, motherf*cker used a knife to carve on the wall, those people haven't got a clue about what to do…"
"Hey! Are you talking about the words written on the wall?"
"Yeah, what's up? You've got something to say?"
"I've no opinion, but… If you really feel that those words have meaning to them, you can try and understand the Black Nightmare Society."
Every time someone expressed dissatisfaction towards the Church during a discussion in the tavern, there would be people coming over to strike up a conversation, sometimes producing a booklet with no visible title, sometimes mentioning something called the "Black Nightmare Society".
Occasionally, both parties would continue in the conversation. Other times, they would turn their heads and leave after a simple exchange… Basically, if one were to pay close attention, it would not be difficult to discover that a shadow of some organization had appeared in the taverns of Worchester.
"Black Nightmare Society? What's that for?"
"Don't you feel that those things drawn on the wall actually make sense? The Church has collected the biggest sum of money for baptisms, worship, indulgences… But nothing has been done. Don't you feel like picking a bone with the Church too?"
When asked such questions, some people would have fearful expressions and shake their heads in a panic; others, however, would raise their eyebrows, looking interested.
Many of the people who had been asked were already rather tipsy, so it was very difficult for them to hide their glee or disgust. Some of them even got excited and immediately hit it off, reeling off about how much they held the Church in contempt.
Finally, they would either choose to accept the booklet, or to receive an invitation from the other person.
An invitation to join the "Black Nightmare Society".
During those few days, such a sight appeared many times in a few of the taverns in Worchester, which attracted some attention. However, the environment in the taverns had always been messy; it was very difficult to find a few people initiating discussions with ulterior motives. After a few days, such incidents quickly decreased, and slowly, no one cared about them any longer.
However, in the loft of the outpost controlled by the black operation of the Worchester Academy…
"Didn't think that so many people were unhappy with the Church's way of operating."
Benjamin counted the leftover invitations and took a deep, comfortable breath. He could not help but exclaim.
Unquestionably, the people who had been mingling in the taverns these days were him and a few agents of the academy's black operation. After leaving the mural in the warehouse district, they had launched into action and begun recruiting the first batch of rebels in the Kingdom of Helius.
There was recruitment, so there must also be an organization that had taken shape. The Academy of Magic did not belong to any country, but this organization, rebelling against the Church, should represent the Kingdom of Helius as well as the will of the local people. Thus, Benjamin had thought of the name "Black Nightmare Society".
To be the nightmare of the Church. This was what it meant.
"Chuunibyou and old fashioned, even the underground punk bands of the last century wouldn't name themselves that," The System began to spit on his naming ability in a matter-of-fact way. However, Benjamin had already gotten used to it and completely ignored it.
During their spreading of propaganda in the tavern, they had distributed roughly a few hundred invitations. It was not much, but still good enough as their first step. Right now, the key point was that the Church must not be made aware of their operations, and so, everything was still being done in low profile, and the spreading of news about the Black Nightmare Society was maintained in only a small area. Even if the Church were to hear the name, they would feel that it was merely a prank or some group of gangsters, and pay no particular attention.
As for the Declaration of the Freedom of Magic, this was a book that had long been notorious with the Church. Because of that, he tore off the front page of the booklet, and whenever he met those with magical talent while recruiting people in the taverns, he conveniently gave the book away, contributing to the nurturing of the native mages in the Kingdom of Helius.
"I feel… That these people might not be reliable," The King observed everything from the side, and could not help but speak, "a bunch of alcoholics. Is it so that I can only depend on them to reclaim my throne?"
He seemed to have a slight doubts about following Benjamin's decision on this.
"Alcoholics have a power that should not be underestimated as well," Benjamin advised. "It doesn't matter what kind of people they are. What matters is that they are the people of the Kingdom of Helius, and they are very dissatisfied with the Church. That is enough."
At the moment, it was apparent that the King did not comprehend the principle fully.
However, he had no other choice. Nodding, he asked again, "So… How many people do you think will be able to attend the meeting, a few days from now?"
Hearing that, Benjamin scratched his head, saying, "This… Twenty, I guess. If, by then, twenty could make it, I would already be very grateful."
The King was temporarily dumbfounded, and stood rooted to the ground. Speechless.
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