When A Mage Revolts Chapter 68: The Grand Show

Chapter 68: The Grand Show

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

In this night at the outskirts of Havenwright, darkness hovered in the horizon. The moon was cloaked under heavy mist, its soft glow illuminating the streets outside the newly-opened theater.

The crowd flooded the theatre.

The Fulners went all out in promoting the show. The show was a sold-out with audiences from diverse backgrounds. Their faces were lit with antic.i.p.ation and their chattery overflowing the theater to the extent where the noises could be heard on the street.

The dome and the edge of the stage were fully decorated with candles and oil lamps, which illuminated the stage as bright as daylight.

"Those hopeless p.r.i.c.ks finally showed their worth, at least they did get enough people for the night," d.i.c.k turned, scanned the crowd and nodded as he sat in the front row.

Beside him was Cante, who would not respond to him. Cante was indulged with playing with the theater brochure. d.i.c.k obviously did not expect Cante to reply him. After a.s.suring himself that there were no empty seats among the audience, he stopped looking around, and instead sat properly in his chair, satisfied.

It was probably due to the nerves. d.i.c.k suddenly took a chamber pot from the side of his legs and wrapped his arms around it.

Initially, all he wanted was revenge - he held the chamber pot all the time, seeking to avenge his lost pride. However, the rage that once filled him gradually subsided, but the affection towards this golden, s.h.i.+ny thing grew. As long as he had the chamber pot in his hands, as long as he felt the calming chill from it, he would be at peace no matter how anxious he was.

He never dared to let anyone know that he could only fall asleep every night if his hands were on the chamberpot.

"Hopefully the show tonight will run smoothly…."

d.i.c.k calmed down after he set the chamber pot on his lap and hugged it like a bolster. He inhaled, ignoring the judgemental looks and pinched noses from the surrounding audiences, and waited patiently for the show to start.

Another ten minutes pa.s.sed.

A band came to the side of the stage and started playing a beautiful melody.

The rowdiness in the theater disappeared in a heartbeat, and the audiences stopped their heated discussion. They held their breaths and watched the centre stage.

Alas, the curtains were drawn slowly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a very good evening to you. Welcome to the Fulner’s Theater of Happiness," the voice of the emcee on stage was clear as day despite not using a microphone. It could be heard in every corner of the theater, "It was well known that a theater is an entertainment exclusive for the inner city. Most of the people never had the chance to enjoy this. However, from now on, all of this will change. The Fulners will share this happiness with every person living in the kingdom! Come, put your hands together for the generosity from Mr. Accius Fulner!"

At the lead of the planted audiences of the Fulners, a roar of applause rose from the audience.

As the cheers gradually died down, the emcee smiled once again.

"I know you’ve been waiting for long, so I won’t hold you any longer and annoy you anymore. Now, please enjoy the first performance of the night - magic, brought to you by Mr Henry from the Town of Yuke!"

The sounds of applause arose.

The emcee left the stage while the bands at the side started playing cheerful music to welcome the entrance of the performers in an effort to stir the mood in the theater.

Henry the Magician got on stage accompanied by the music. His eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights, his steps comical like a sneaky thief. As he wobbily stepped to the centre stage, the music stopped abruptly. The audience stared at Henry, their eyes full of antic.i.p.ation.

Henry stood still in the centre stage. He suddenly flipped out the empty pockets in his pants, and made an exaggerated face of sadness to the crowd.

Some of the audiences were entertained as they chuckled.

"To combine comedy and magic is one clever way of performing," d.i.c.k commented somberly like a judge, as if the chamber pot in his hand was the trophy for the champion, "We shall see. The major component for his performance will still be his magic."

No one was listening to him, though.

Soon, the laughter died down. Suddenly, a blonde woman clad in a short skirt came on stage.

Her arrival caused a small commotion in the crowd. She did not interact with the audience, though. Instead, she walked straight towards Henry and scowled at him, her hands on her face, and her face puffed up in anger. She looked half furious as she pouted prettily.

The audience were amused.

Henry looked helpless as he scratched his head, as if he had no idea how to handle the situation.

As he scratched and scratched, a rose suddenly emerged from his hair.

He stared dumbly at the flower, as if he did not know what just happened.

His face was suddenly lit with realisation as he grinned cheekily at the lady, knelt down on one knee, and gave her the flower.

Laughter and applause rose from the audience.

d.i.c.k saw this, nodded and commented with an air of superiority, "Although this kind of performance would not be suitable for the inner city, it still has its worth in the outskirts."

Cante stupidly clapped along with the crowd, and he did not stop chortling even after everyone stopped. No one had any idea what he was so happy about.

d.i.c.k rolled his eyes at Cante and his face was filled with disgust as he pretended to not know Cante - at that moment, he had the urge to switch places with someone else!

This idiot was going to shame the Fulners!

d.i.c.k facepalmed as he hid himself from the crowd.

However, he suddenly heard startled shouts.

Oh? Did the magician show more tricks?

d.i.c.k was confused.

This was bad performance timing - most of the audience were still caught up in the comedic effects of the last joke, it was too hurried if a new trick was displayed now.

d.i.c.k frowned, lifted his head and looked at the stage.

The stage was empty. Henry, who was still jumping around the stage minutes ago, and the lady, both of them disappeared.

d.i.c.k froze.

What happened? Is this a part of the performance?

"What happened?" d.i.c.k could not help but to tap Cante’s shoulder and ask him.

Cante laughed as he clapped, "Holy light…. Hahahahaha….. The holy light cleansed them…. Hahahahaha!"

d.i.c.k was stunned. After some confusion, he a.s.sumed Cante was being his crazy self again.

The holy light cleansed them? How could it be possible?

He even choked out a laugh with his face twisted in amus.e.m.e.nt.

Though, it did not take him long for his laugh to dry out. His laugh gradually stopped.

The crowd experienced the same; their faces morphed from one of antic.i.p.ation and delight to shock and horror.

From the backstage, entrance, exit, and every other corner in the theater, countless Holy Knights stormed into the stage. They were dressed in full armour, swords in hand, some even had blood dripping off the swords. The b.l.o.o.d.y swords were evidence that they had just taken away some lives.

The jovial music screeched to a halt.

Before the band could react, a few priests stood up from the audience. A few Grenades of Holy Light were summoned and then thrown at the band. The whole band was evaporated in a blink of an eye; not even a string was left.

The crowd was instantly terrified. Some of them tried to spring to their feet and rush towards the exit.

"What exactly is happening…."

"Oh G.o.d! Did they all die?"

"What happened? I don’t want to die, I want to get out of here!"

d.i.c.k was petrified. What he saw was beyond his imagination. He forgot everything about the performance amidst his terror, and all he knew was that he wanted to get out, quick.

"Do not fear. No one will hurt you." Suddenly, a voice that seemed to be a.s.sisted by the Divine Arts, a loud and clear voice boomed in the theater, "The servant of G.o.d is punis.h.i.+ng the Fallen Ones. Believers will naturally not be hurt. Please, sit and admire the agility of our Holy Knights."

At the entrance of the theater, a fat silhouette walked out.

"Fa-father?" d.i.c.k could not believe his eyes. That was Accius Fulner, the head of the Fulner household, and the owner of this theater. He was also the original planner for tonight’s performance.

With a confident stride, he walked in and said, "Also, please cooperate with the will of G.o.d and refrain from leaving the theater without permission. Or else, you will be a.s.sumed to be the follower of the Devils, and you will face the Holy Lights as your retribution. Is everyone clear?"

Although he sounded friendly and righteous, everyone present could hear the underlying threat in his words.

Silence enveloped the crowd. Everyone looked at Accius dumbly, and the ones who attempted to leave nervously reclaimed their seats after examining the number of Holy Knights at the theatre.

No one dared to s.h.i.+ft in their seats.

Hence, everyone was seated obediently, as if they were highly respectable audience focused on an interesting show.

However, the only show they could watch was the slaughter of the theatre staff by the Holy Knights, while terrified screams echoed from backstage to the audience.

"Mummy…. I want to go home."

"Shush, don’t talk, child. Mummy’s here, don’t be afraid. Nothing is going to happen."

The newly painted smell was covered by the stench of blood. The malodour of blood overpowered the smell of the building.

In the face of these events, Accius stood at the walkway of the audience and nodded, with satisfaction. Then, he slowly approached d.i.c.k.

"D-Dad, what is going on? Why would there be so many Holy Knights? Al-also, why would there be Fallen Ones in our theater? Didn’t you let me take charge of the show tonight? What actually happened?"

d.i.c.k turned around and pulled the edge of Accius’ clothes as he asked in a whisper. His voice was laced with shock, helplessness, fear, and all the other complicated feelings.

Accius patted d.i.c.k’s shoulders with his big hands. He spoke to d.i.c.k in a voice gentler than d.i.c.k’s, "Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine, you did well. None of us will be in trouble…..."

d.i.c.k calmed down after his father comforted him. Still, he shut his eyes as he avoided from looking at the ‘showcase’ by the Holy Knights. He hugged the chamber pot tightly as he tried to forget the b.l.o.o.d.y scene from his mind.

He was still a teenager anyway. Never did he experience anything like this!

This…... This was too terrifying!

When he was thinking with his eyes shut, he suddenly heard a low, suppressed curse from his father, "f.u.c.k! Who was the G.o.d-forsaken whistleblower? Now, the long networking I built with the mages all went to the drain…..."