Chapter 35: Giving (3)
Through the bulletproof glass, Mili saw crowds gathering along the streets, heading in the same direction as them.
As they entered the outer district, the buildings grew denser, the streets more crowded…
Unlike the slums, though, this area was relatively tidy.
The houses, though simple, were regularly maintained.
“By the way,” Kaya stopped humming her tune, “when you meet the crowd, just do what you practiced. A few key points—”
“First, keep smiling, but not too exaggerated.”
“Second, speak softly but loud enough for everyone to hear.”
“Third, show compassion and care, but don’t overpromise.”
Kaya adjusted her gear as she spoke.
She drew a peculiar curved dagger from her waist, twirling it deftly:
“Haha, I’m a top-tier bodyguard among the traders!”
“Petty trouble? Pfft—handled easy!”
Mili swallowed hard, eyeing the glinting, forearm-length blade.
“I… I haven’t practiced…”
“What—?!” Kaya froze, eyes wide:
“No way?”
“Seraphina didn’t rehearse with you?”
Mili shook her head slightly: “She… said just read the script… um, do I need to practice?”
“Huh?”
Kaya scratched her hair, her beaded braids jingling faintly:
“Forget it, crash course it is.”
“When you see them, just follow my lead.”
“It’s easy! As long as you don’t curse them out… uh, maybe that’s fine too?”
“Ahem! Off track, off track.”
“Anyway!”
“Smile.”
“Nod.”
“Con… er, no.”
“—Comfort!”
“Yeah, comfort.”
“Done~”
Mili’s confidence sank further at Kaya’s cavalier attitude.
The car stopped at a cleared plaza in the outer district.
It was packed, a sea of people.
At the center stood a half-meter-high platform of wood and metal, surrounded by large speakers…
Behind it hung Eisenburg’s massive emblem.
Armed soldiers cordoned off a safe zone, keeping the eager crowd at bay…
Through the window, Mili saw the throng stretching to the district’s edge…
How many people were there?
Faces marked by exhaustion and numbness now gleamed with hope, anticipation…
Mixed with awe and curiosity.
The car door opened, cold air and noisy voices flooding in.
Mili stared blankly at the dense, yet so-close crowd…
“Don’t be scared.” Kaya’s voice sounded by her ear. “Follow me.”
Kaya stepped out first, her commanding presence parting the soldiers like a wave.
Mili took a deep breath, lifted her skirt, and followed.
The moment she appeared, the plaza’s clamor paused, as if frozen.
Thousands of eyes locked onto her.
“Saintess!”
“The true Saintess!”
“Thanks to Her Majesty’s grace!”
Moments later, shouts surged like a tide, applause and whistles thundering…
Evelyn, the adjutant, waited at the platform’s base, her military uniform crisp, her face stern.
She strode toward Mili, shoving a black folder into her arms.
“Saintess, you’re late… you need to go up now.” Evelyn’s voice was low, cutting through the noise:
“Here’s the schedule and what you’ll read.”
“Start with showing care for the people, then announce some welfare policies…”
“Just read the script.”
Mili glanced inside—
Neatly printed pages of black text on white.
The first page, a schedule, was simple; the rest were flowery platitudes.
She skimmed them, her face souring.
May the holy light bless our people…
Thanks to Her Majesty’s merciful grace…
Huh?
How could it be so pompous?
The tiny text crawled like ants…
“Can this… be simplified?” Mili whispered.
“No time.” Evelyn checked her military watch.
“Read it as is. You’ll be fine.”
With that, she shot Kaya a deeply displeased look.
Kaya shrugged, pouting, unfazed.
She even pulled a nut from her pouch, crunching it loudly.
“Tch… thanks for your assistance, Lady Kaya,” Evelyn said with icy politeness.
“Professional duty, no need for thanks~” Kaya waved, her amber eyes glinting with mischief.
She winked, pointing a thumb at Mili: “Want one for her too?”
“No need.”
“They’re nutritious!”
Evelyn’s temple twitched, ignoring her, gesturing to Mili: “It’s time. Up you go.”
Mili clutched the folder, stepping onto the platform, each step spiking her heartbeat…
The feeling of countless eyes on her made her want to flee…
But she had no choice…
Kaya, at the steps, gave her a gentle push.
“Go, little Saintess,” her voice teased, brimming with amusement. “They’ll eat you up.”
“…”
Mili exhaled shakily, her face stiff, climbing the final step.
As she reached the platform, the crowd erupted in louder cheers and applause.
“Saintess!”
“Our hope!”
“Bless us, Saintess!”
Mili stood at the center, placing the folder on the podium, her gaze sweeping over the hopeful faces, her palms slick with sweat…
Her throat tightened, legs trembling under her skirt.
She could see every movement clearly…
Some bowed, some craned, some shouted through cupped hands, some kids waved flags atop parents’ shoulders…
Each was a living person.
Near the barricade, a middle-aged man in patched work clothes leaned on the rail, one hand protecting…
His hands were rough, blackened, likely from factory labor…
Beside him, a timid girl clung to his sleeve, staring at the stage with curious, fearful eyes…
In a corner, a frail old woman, hunched, leaned on her son’s arm, squinting to see the stage…
Her son, in his thirties, bore a stark scar on his forehead, perhaps from an accident…
Among the crowd, young mothers cradled infants…
One rocked a crying baby, her eyes shadowed but straining to see better…
Further back, young kids rode adults’ shoulders, waving excitedly…
They didn’t know what a Saintess was.
They just thought today was lively, fun…
These people had names, stories, daily worries of food and survival…
They stayed up for a child’s cough…
Fretted over short rations…
Lay awake fearing tomorrow’s work…
And now, thousands of living souls looked to her—a girl who could barely care for herself, who stuttered at job interviews or company events.
She’d never imagined speaking before so many…
Her fingers gripped the folder’s edge, nails digging into her palms, her racing heartbeat thumping in her throat, blood rushing to her head…
This was far scarier than she’d thought.
Her mind was blank.
No preparation, no reminders…
Useless.
All useless.
Only confusion.
A speech for fifty thousand was thrilling—a genius orator facing fervent crowds, stirring hatred or fervor with a silver tongue, met with roaring responses…
But standing here, she realized how terrifying it was…
The weight of countless gazes could burn.
She wasn’t a faceless commenter online or a keyboard critic…
She had to face real people, saying words she didn’t believe.