All Chapters of The Useful Son In-Law: Chapter 91
- Chapter 100
191 chapters
Chapter 91: Duel Of Tongues
The square was overflowing long before the hour of dusk. Word had spread like wildfire, and now men, women, and even children crowded shoulder to shoulder, their voices low with anticipation. Merchants closed their stalls, guards leaned upon their spears, and all eyes turned toward the fountain at the center.Jonathan stood near Clara at the council hall’s steps, scanning the sea of faces. His jaw was tight, every muscle coiled as though expecting the crowd to break into riot at any moment. “If they turn, I will cut a path for you,” he muttered.Clara shook her head. “No. If they turn, then let them. I will not flee. If I run, the scribe wins before he speaks.”Her father laid a hand on her shoulder, his eyes heavy with both sorrow and pride. “Then walk carefully, daughter. The city’s heart beats in this square tonight.”The sound of a horn cut across the air, silencing the murmurs. All eyes turned as the scribe emerged from the throng, clad again in his plain cloak. He looked almost
Chapter 92: The Hidden Gambit
The square had become a storm. Half the voices cried Clara’s name in defiance of the scribe, the other half cursed her as a liar. Fists struck air, neighbors shouted in each other’s faces, and the guards shifted nervously at the edges of the crowd.Clara stood upon the fountain, her heart pounding in her chest. She had struck him, if only for a moment. She had seen the flicker of doubt ripple through the people. Yet it was fragile—too fragile. One wrong word, one spark, and the city would burn itself alive.Jonathan’s eyes darted to the far corner of the square. The cloaked figure he had glimpsed earlier was moving steadily toward the front of the crowd, weaving like a snake through the press of bodies. A prickle of unease crawled up his spine.The scribe lifted his hands for silence. His voice, when it came, was low but carried like a chant through the restless air.“You ask for truth. You ask for proof. Very well—proof you shall have.”He snapped his fingers.The cloaked figure step
Chapter 93: Fire In The Square
The first torch was hurled before anyone saw the hand that threw it. It arced through the dusky air and struck a merchant’s stall, bursting into flame. The dry wood caught in an instant, smoke curling upward like a serpent.A scream split the square, then another. The tightly packed crowd convulsed—mothers clutching children, men shoving, guards struggling to form a line.Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “He’s set the trap. Clara, we have to move—now!”But Clara did not move. She stood tall, her gaze fixed upon the scribe as though she could pin him to the stone with her eyes alone. He did not flinch. His hands were spread wide, face radiant with mock innocence, as if he were merely an observer of chaos, not its architect.“See!” he shouted over the rising panic. “Even the earth itself rejects their lies! Fire comes as judgment! The city burns because of them!”The mob howled. Stones flew toward the fountain. One struck Clara’s arm, another shattered against the steps near Jonathan’s feet.“
Chapter 94: Siege Of The Hall
The doors groaned like beasts under the assault. Each crash of a ram, each splintering crack, sent dust drifting from the beams above. Inside the council chamber, every soul felt the weight of doom pressing upon them.The guards held their shields tight, spears angled toward the entrance. Jonathan paced like a caged wolf, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade. Clara’s father sat hunched at the council table, lips moving silently in prayer.Clara herself stood before the barred doors, every strike reverberating through her bones. Smoke seeped through the cracks around the frame, the stench of burning wood and pitch filling the chamber.“They’ll bring it down before the hour is done,” Jonathan said grimly, halting beside her. “They’ve got iron and fire both. Mercenaries lead them, not starving beggars. We’ll be overrun.”Clara met his eyes, steady though pale. “Then we hold until there is nothing left to hold with. If we yield now, everything we fought for dies.”Jonathan’s voice
Chapter 95: The Gambit Of Truth
The square outside the council hall writhed like a sea caught between two storms. On one side, Clara’s banner fluttered defiantly against the rising smoke. On the other, the scribe’s words slithered through the crowd like serpents. And overhead, the bells tolled, announcing the enemy’s advance from the river.Panic rippled through the people. Mothers clutched children. Men argued, fists raised. Some pointed to Clara, their voices rising with desperate hope. Others spat toward her balcony, crying out for bread, for blood, for change.Jonathan wiped soot from his brow, his jaw tight. “They’ll tear each other apart before the enemy even touches the gates,” he muttered. “Clara, we need to end this—now.”Clara’s grip on the banner tightened. Her father’s weak voice carried from the chamber behind them. “She cannot end this with steel, Jonathan. Only with truth. But truth must strike harder than lies.”Jonathan turned to her, eyes blazing. “Then give me leave, and I’ll drag the scribe to th
Chapter 96: The Trial Of Voices
The night was restless. Torches guttered in the square, and every street seemed to whisper of betrayal. Word had spread—by dawn, Clara would face the scribe in a council not behind closed doors, but before the people themselves.Jonathan had protested until his throat was raw. “You’re walking into his trap! He thrives on crowds, Clara. He feeds on their fear.”Clara sat at the council table, her fingers tracing the carved wood worn smooth by generations before her. Her face was pale, but her voice was calm. “No. Tomorrow, I drag him from the shadows he twists to his advantage. Lies live in darkness, Jonathan. We will force them into the light.”Her father, frail in his chair, coughed softly. “But child, if the people side with him…”Clara looked at him, her eyes steady though her hands trembled beneath the table. “Then let them. Better an honest fall than a rule founded on deceit.”Jonathan slammed his fist onto the table. “And if you fall, the city falls with you!”Clara stood. “Then
Chapter 97: The Spark And The Storm
The first stone struck the fountain with a sharp crack, sending shards scattering at the scribe’s feet. Another followed, whistling past his shoulder.The scribe staggered back, his once-confident smile faltering as the crowd he had courted turned jagged with suspicion.“Traitor!” someone bellowed.“No! He speaks truth!” another shouted, hurling back an insult, then a fist.In an instant, the square became a cauldron. Words gave way to shoves, shoves to blows. Men clawed at each other, women screamed, children were pulled away as the mob turned inward, consuming itself.Jonathan drew his blade, eyes blazing. “Clara, we must pull you out now—this will tear itself apart!”But Clara shook her head, heart pounding. “If I flee, I prove his claims. I must stand. I must—”A stone struck the platform near her, splintering wood. Jonathan cursed, shielding her with his arm. “You’ll stand in a grave if you stay another heartbeat!”---Below, the scribe fought to regain control. He raised his han
Chapter 98: Judgment In Shadows
The council hall was thick with smoke, the scent of torches mingling with the stench of sweat and fear. The great oak doors had been barred, yet even through the stone walls Clara could hear the murmurs of the crowd outside. They had not gone home. They lingered like vultures, waiting to see whether the serpent they had cast down would be slain—or spared.The scribe sat shackled in the center of the chamber. His cloak hung in tatters, his lip split, one eye swollen shut. Yet even broken, he carried himself with an unsettling calm. His silence was louder than his speeches had ever been.Jonathan paced like a caged lion, every stride punctuated by the ring of his boots. “He is poison. Leave him alive, and his venom will spread again. The people themselves dragged him down—if we strike now, we prove them right to rise against him.”Clara’s father leaned heavily upon his staff, his voice weary. “And if we kill him, we prove his words true—that we rule with fear, that we silence all who op
Chapter 99: Trial Of Truth
The square had never held so many people. From the market stalls to the steps of the council hall, citizens pressed shoulder to shoulder, their breath misting in the cold morning air. Hunger had carved their faces thin, suspicion had sharpened their eyes, and expectation burned like a fever among them.In the center, a wooden platform had been erected overnight. Upon it stood the council, the guard, and at their heart—Clara. She wore no jewels, no crown, only a plain cloak and a ribbon at her wrist, the last thread of Michael’s gift before he left. Her face was pale but unyielding.The scribe was brought forth in chains. His body bore bruises, yet he moved with dignity, his chin high, his smile faint. A murmur rippled through the crowd—some with scorn, others with pity, and more still with quiet admiration.Jonathan stood at Clara’s side, a hand resting on the hilt of his blade. His eyes never left the scribe, but his voice was low to her ear. “One word, Clara, and I will end this far
Chapter 100: Voices Of The People
The roar of the crowd rose like a tide, swelling until it seemed the very stones of the square trembled beneath their feet. Men shouted for bread, women for justice, children cried without knowing why. The air was thick with anger, fear, and something more dangerous still—uncertainty.On the platform, Clara’s heart hammered against her ribs, but her face did not betray it. She had chosen this path. If the city was to endure, it must not be through decrees whispered in chambers, but through the hearts of its people.The scribe raised his bound hands, his voice cutting cleanly through the din. “You see? They are with me! They are with truth!”A roar answered him. Yet just as loud, others cried for Clara, for Michael, for hope. The sound clashed, a storm of voices tearing at the air.Jonathan leaned close, his words sharp and low. “End this now, Clara. One order and the guards will silence them. If the crowd spills into blood, there may be no city left to save.”Clara shook her head, her