The witch thought I am a Demon God
Chapter 817 - 429: Wedding and Magic Failure_2

Chapter 817: Chapter 429: Wedding and Magic Failure_2

"Then why don’t you bow down to this bread I’ve eaten?"

The Archbishop, who was originally smiling, became petrified upon hearing this, and, facing the jeering nobles around him, his face turned red as he struggled to find a way to descend graciously. "Viscount, you are too happy today, but before the Holy See, we should not be so frivolous."

"I am certain that your devout faith will win you the honorable position you deserve."

Just when everyone thought the Viscount would take the hint and step down, who could have expected the Compulsion Viscount to burst into laughter. "Do I use faith to get what belongs to me and my rights? Hahaha, I’ve gotten everything through war and strength."

At this time, some people had already realized something was wrong with the Viscount.

The Viscount’s wife, the third daughter of the King of Saxon, gently tugged at his sleeve, and even if the King of Saxon himself wasn’t that devout, being his daughter, she knew very well how problematic her husband’s remarks were.

But the Compulsion Viscount continued nonchalantly, "What I hate the most are you clergymen who neither pay taxes nor serve in the army. Do you really think that by crowning the kings, you can obtain all that you now possess? Do you really believe that your prayers over scriptures surpass the fruits of victory won by warriors with swords and spears? You are like parasites on a tree..."

All the guests fell silent.

The scene became terrifyingly quiet.

At this moment, looking at the hysterical Viscount, everyone thought the same thing—’The Viscount seems to have gone mad.’

Ambros, the Archbishop and the highest head of the Ambros Diocese, had never faced such an insult, but being in such a high position, he quickly realized that the Viscount had been drugged.

However, even so, he would not forgive the Viscount. He narrowed his eyes, which were very cold. "Your words carry weight. Is this your view of the Church?"

"Then congratulations, you have gained a host of enemies and lost a number of friends that used to be close to you."

"I simply cannot stay at this wedding any longer."

The Archbishop turned and left.

At this moment, an official witch from the noble faction brought over a plate of lit tobacco, swayed it in front of the Viscount’s nose, and whispered, "Viscount, you must have drunk water soaked with Verbatim Grass just now. I shall now remove the curse for you."

The Compulsion Viscount came back to his senses, and as he realized something was amiss and his reason returned, he hurriedly pleaded for the Archbishop to come back and promised to repent to the God of All Things.

But by then, it was too late.

The Archbishop Ambros had long suspected that the Viscount had drunk water with Verbatim Grass, but had he not harbored sacrilegious thoughts in his heart, he would not have spoken those earlier rebellious words.

Archbishop Ambros strode away, leaving behind a group of guests who either rejoiced in the misfortune or watched the spectacle.

The Compulsion Grand Viscount stamped his foot in anger and roared, "The city council of Ambros!"

"It must be their tricks at play. Go check the people in the kitchen, tell those kitchen helpers and chefs, if we cannot find out who is responsible today, everyone in the kitchen must die."

The gathering frowned.

Though they could understand the Viscount’s feelings at the moment, without the support of the Church, the noble faction had indeed suffered a heavy blow.

But after all, it was just a matter of offending someone with words, and there was still a chance to make amends; there was no need to be so hysterical.

The distinguished guests whispered among themselves, and the nobles from foreign lands found it even harder to accept the Compulsion Viscount’s current behavior.

"Without a court or a jury, he has directly sentenced a group of servants in front of us. His style of speech and action is like that of a dictator. Were we really right to support him?"

"In my homeland, even if a Lord wants to execute a death-row prisoner, it must still be approved by the local council. Could it be that the nobles of Ambros are allowed to vent their anger on servants at will? This is too barbaric. Is this the behavior of a civilized person?"

Ivita glanced at the nobles from the northern countries.

Of course, in each of the northern feudal states, there were autonomous communities with their own councils.

And thus, to condemn someone, a trial was a must.

The Compulsion Viscount had noticed the displeasure of the guests, but he really could not afford to care. He had come to understand the conspiracy of the city council of Ambros.

I was determined to ruin his wedding, to make him the laughingstock of everyone.

Before he could even handle the ongoing incident, he encountered another thorny problem—his mother actually started arguing with his wife.

The cause was his mother’s attempt to suppress the princess from Saxon, but the third princess was not one to take things lying down.

The third princess immediately demanded that the Compulsion Viscount’s mother kneel to her in reverence.

For she was now the wife of the Grand Viscount, the Lady of the Grand Viscount, and every subject of Ambros City should bow to the Lady of the Grand Viscount.

This led to a very serious conflict between the two of them.

The Viscount’s mother was over seventy years old this year, she simply could not bear to kneel to her daughter-in-law before so many people, yet according to the etiquette of Ambros, she indeed needed to do so.

If the two of them had a good relationship, perhaps there could have been a compromise, but now her daughter-in-law was almost deliberately trying to disgrace her.

The Viscount’s mother, looking at her daughter-in-law’s smug smile, felt increasing hatred and disgust, and she couldn’t hold back—or perhaps it was intentional—she let her guard slap the bride across the face.

Now, both sides had completely broken into a fight.

The wedding became a complete farce.

In the end, of course, the marriage was impossible to proceed with.

The visiting finance minister envoy and the Metropolitan Archbishop from the capital of Saxon all stood up for their princess and immediately retracted the marriage agreement on the spot unless the Compulsion Viscount made reparations and sincere apologies that satisfied them.

The Saxon City’s Metropolitan Archbishop even made an additional demand, insisting the Compulsion Viscount fast within the Church of the God of All Things for three days and nights, and repent for his previously spoken near-blasphemous ravings.

The Compulsion Viscount only felt his head aching, but he was no pushover, and he turned against the people from the Saxon Kingdom on the spot, even threatening to imprison his fiancée.

He spoke bluntly to the Saxon City’s Metropolitan Archbishop. "Without the help of your diocese, without the help of the Saxon Kingdom, I do not fear you."

"I can take what I’m entitled to all the same."

"By my side, there are many who can help me, the Chaos Abyss, Hell, the Empire’s envoys."

He even cast a deliberate glance at the location of Ivita No. 2’s clone.

This confirmed the suspicions of the nobles who had been guessing the identity of Ivita No. 2’s clone.

Ivita rolled her eyes, thinking, Fight if you must, but why drag me into it?

The Saxon Metropolitan Archbishop was furious, pointing at the Viscount’s nose and scolding him. "Take good care of yourself, my lord. Should you be excommunicated from The Church, all of your vassals will have no reason to maintain their respect for you."

"Farewell."

The Saxon City’s Metropolitan Archbishop, too, was so agitated that he immediately left the church.

Now, the Compulsion Viscount had managed to offend two high-ranking members of The Church one after another.

At that moment, the third church dignitary present, the Red Archbishop from the church headquarters, also promptly left the church.

This angered the Viscount to the point of red-eyed fury. "Ha, The Church... a bunch of creatures clinging to royal power."

Ivita lowered her head, the corner of her mouth curving upward, thinking that in this way, even The Church might turn to support her.

She hadn’t expected to gain such an unexpected benefit today.

The Compulsion Viscount roared to the heavens: "Factions of Ambros City, I will make you pay, tomorrow I shall lay siege to the city by force!"

"During this period, the insect horde of the Chaos Abyss should also have nearly entered Ambros."