In front of the expensive mercury mirror, Liborole adjusted his appearance, combing his hair into a representative form in the dazzling morning sunlight.

At the open doorway, a sudden knocking was heard.

Liborole turned his head and saw Rangbang in a worn-out suit, looking at his own bright and neat self with a complex expression.

"Why are you standing there? Sit anywhere, I'll be ready soon," Liborole said to Rangbang as he had in the past.

"Was it you who initiated the petition to the Advisory Council?"

"Yes!"

"Are you the one attending the public vote today and acting as the spokesperson?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what the petition specifically entails?"

"...Yes."

Rangbang gripped the door frame tightly, "You're the one who told me what constitutionalism and freedom are. Why did you give up?"

"I didn't give up on constitutionalism; constitutionalism gave up on me."

Liborole continued adjusting his attire in the mirror, his voice steady as water: "I lost my representative seat and spent several days in jail.

I was disheartened, wanting to return home to inherit the dye workshop, but not long after, I received news.

The Saint Hammer Monastery under the Pope's Palace had set up a dye workshop in the countryside without registration with the guild.

They opened one after another, poaching our household's helpers, recklessly spreading dye formulas, forcing us into a price war."

Rangbang, as an emerging agricultural machinery owner, had no fond feelings for the guild under the influence of the Saint Hammer Monastery.

His seeder and plow workshop, using government factory-produced hinges, were harassed by the guild multiple times.

As for losing his representative seat, the Holy Alliance punished him openly but rewarded him secretly.

They not only imparted Rangbang with skills, transforming him from an agent to a manufacturer, but also urged him to attend night school, striving to run for representative next year.

As for Liborole, though punished, when establishing the dye factory, the Priest-in-Charge personally came to his house to invite him to serve as Factory Director.

But Liborole took a pole for hanging dyed cloth and drove the Priest-in-Charge out of his home.

Standing before his friend, he had countless words but none he could speak.

Rangbang knew Liborole wouldn't listen.

"Do you remember my little sister?"

"Beatrice, such a lovely little girl..."

Liborole interrupted, "In the past, she might marry some junior official or lawyer, notary, a suitably middle-class person.

In an era of constitutionalism, I thought she could marry someone she loves freely, even if that person was a farmer.

I hoped she could be happy.

But you know? Just to fight the price war, we used up her dowry.

You know, without the support of being a guild master, we're just ordinary artisans, not even able to marry a lawyer.

But unfortunately, our family went bankrupt from being squeezed out, and our family of six had to squeeze into a small rural house, forced to send little Bea to the newly opened monastery."

Rangbang interrupted Liborole for the first time, "There's still a convent? Weren't they abolished long ago? She's not an orphan or military dependent."

"Of course they exist, just under a different name, a girls' school.

I've checked thoroughly, inside are daughters and widows of political prisoners and old nobility, learning horse riding and philosophy instead of female etiquette.

Who do you think likes these? Isn't it the Pope? The girls' school is just His Holiness's selection ground for brides!

If not selected, one stays there for life, even entertaining senior monks of the Holy Alliance.

For constitutionalism, risking my life, forsaking my innocence, enduring disdain, and in the end?

Beatrice not only can't marry well, but will become, become..."

At this point, Liborole's words unexpectedly choked with emotion.

"Isn't it just a money problem?" Rangbang, hearing Liborole's choking voice for the first time, even felt a bit flustered, "You can help manage my agricultural machinery workshop, I'll give you half the shares, then we can redeem little Bea..."

"It's not about the money!" Liborole suddenly turned around, clutching his collar and shouted, "Our family, rooted in the guild for nearly a hundred years, has excellent traditions and heritage.

A century-old enterprise is about to be ruined overnight. Without the guild, I don't even know who I am!"

"You're Liborole Desalle! Without the guild, you're still Liborole Desalle!" Rangbang unconsciously emphasized his tone.

"My grandfather was a master dyer, my father was a master dyer, and my children should also be master dyers.

They would work step by step, learning characters at seven, apprenticing at twelve, becoming helpers at twenty, masters at thirty, and grandmasters at forty." Liborole took several steps opposite Rangbang, "Without the guild, I've lost Desalle. Without Desalle, I'm no different from you."

"What's the difference?" Rangbang stood in shock.

The two who had been arguing then suddenly went silent, as if even the dust in the sunlight had solidified in the air.

The first to move was Rangbang, facing Liborole, slowly stepping back.

Until he retreated out the door, "I once thought we were friends, but in fact, you're no different from Ovid."

"You support constitutionalism, but isn't it to become superior? Is even the Pope equal to ordinary people?"

Rangbang didn't answer, but continued, "…Back then, I rented a suit to attend the Advisory Council meeting, and you bought it for me, gifting it to me.

This suit is filthy and ragged, but I still wore it, today I also wore it.

Because I believe it's a symbol of our friendship, that we're equal people communicating equally.

This friendship was the first I ever had, and from then on, I knew what equality was.

But today, it seems that my friendship is just a big person's charity to a small one."

Liborole stared hard at Rangbang, who had always been eloquent, but at this moment, his mind went blank.

Rangbang slowly took off the outer garment, hanging it on a coat hook nearby.

"I support constitutionalism, equality, freedom, His Holiness, the workshop."

This once young Armed Farmer, once timid before even the Knight, now stood proudly before his once most respected and even admired friend:

"We're no longer friends!"

The door slammed shut, shaking a few puffs of dust down from the ceiling beam.

Yet Liborole remained in place.

He looked at the ragged suit on the coat hook, staring for nearly a minute before finally cursing, "Who cares... Who cares!"

Reorganizing his attire in front of the mirror, Liborole knew he was about to begin the most glorious day of his life.

Opening the door, amidst countless people, he walked to the carriage's side.

From his pocket, he drew out the petition, waving it towards the crowd: "I will bring peace to the Thousand River Valley!"

"Good job."

"That's how it should be!"

Amidst the cheers, the carriage slowly moved to the circular plaza in the dock area, which had already been selected as the site for the public vote.

On the pre-erected wooden stage, representatives and various levels of priests from Rapids City's City Hall stood solemnly.

At that moment, representatives from other regions were also hurriedly riding their horses to arrive.

Streamers fluttered, the crowd cheered, Liborole stepped down from the carriage, feeling somewhat dizzy for a moment.

Taking out the silver flask from his chest, he took a sip of coffee.

Only when lowering his head, he noticed the inscription on the flask, "To my best friend, Liborole."

It wasn't until the drums sounded that Liborole realized he had been looking at the flask for a long time.

"Citizen Liborole, please come forward with the petition."

The Ceremonial Officer stretched his voice, taking advantage of the quiet moment between drum rolls, so that most people could hear.

Liborole raised his head, looking around, though met with encouraging eyes, his heart pounded wildly.

Until he saw a pair of dark eyes, belonging to Denosov.

Liborole recalled that small rural house, remembered trying to reconcile with the Priest-in-Charge but being shut out.

Just going back to the past, it would be good.

Liborole stepped up to the stage, "I am Liborole Desalle, from the Desalle family of the Dye Guild.

I represent 5,172 believers from various parts of the Thousand River Valley, petitioning to the Advisory Council.

First, we petition for the re-election of the despotic duke.

Second, we petition to announce to the entire Thousand River Valley the conditions of the Leia people.

We believe that by re-electing the despotic duke, returning royal power to the King and ecclesiastical power to the Pope, we can usher in peace, at least a generation's worth of peace!"