Chapter 13: “A Nation’s Wealth and Citizen’s Strength”

February 17th.

When news reached the Roman Empire’s capital that Priscilla’s mission to retrieve the Regent had failed, and scouts from the Elven Kingdom had been spotted at the Regent’s last known location, the representatives at the round table meeting, despite appearing visibly upset, each harbored their own ulterior motives.

“What a pity indeed!”

The nobles and landlords’ representatives masterfully disguised their sorrow and despair, while secretly they were ecstatic. Without the Regent’s return, the wealth that was rightfully theirs would remain untouched.

As for the famine potentially killing the stubborn commoners, what did that matter to them? If worst came to worst, they could simply feign allegiance to the elves or even declare independence. They were just commoners, after all. If they starved, so be it.

They never cared about the lives of their peasants. When peasants could still be productive, they, as masters, naturally had to maintain their ‘tools’. But when these peasants became unable to contribute value, instead consuming what had been produced, the logical step was to discard these ‘tools’.

Why should they waste their own interests on such insignificant matters?

However, even more satisfied than the nobles and landlords was the archbishop himself, who inwardly lamented, ‘Indeed, such a regrettable situation… ah.’

His heart seethed with fury. For an entire year, he had sent countless assassins to eliminate the lone Regent, and yet none had succeeded. 

What were those hired killers even doing?

Clearly, he couldn’t trust those money-grubbing scoundrels. Archbishop Peter grumbled to himself, while also secretly delighted that these scoundrels’ bank accounts were securely held within the Church.

This institution was titled God of Light Church Indulgence Savings Bank. It served to store the funds and crucial assets of the faithful within the Church. Naturally, after the death of the account holder and his family, these assets would default to the ownership of the Archbishop.

In the past, it was through these savings certificates that the Archbishop financed his purchase of the Regent’s army’s loyalty. Then, after regularly distributing gold coin salaries for two months, he dispatched them to the perilous Monster Forest just a week before the third month’s payday.

Consequently, only a fraction of these traitors survived, and their gold, deposited in the certificates, inevitably returned to the Archbishop’s coffers.

This form of cost-free trade had been carried out by the Archbishop numerous times. The payments made to the assassins were also transferred through this mechanism. However, even as the assassins’ funds returned to his pockets, the Archbishop couldn’t find satisfaction because his sole desire was for the Regent’s death.

As long as the Regent was alive, there was always the possibility that the Saintess, who had locked herself in the underground shrine chamber of St. Peter’s Cathedral to pray, might apostate.

Currently, in the Saintess’s heart, the weight of religion and the Regent was almost equal.

To bring the Saintess back to the embrace of the God of Light as soon as possible, Archbishop Peter must ensure that the Regent died. This was not only for the benefit of tens of millions of believers but also for the future of the God of Light.

Determined to see the Saint swiftly return to the Holy Light’s embrace, Archbishop Peter was resolved to ensure the Regent’s end at any cost. This was crucial not only for the sake of millions of believers but for the future of the Holy Light.

‘But going into the Monster Forest or even the Elven Kingdom, that becomes a problem. We must dispatch more assassins.,’ the Archbishop thought to himself. 

General Dreycar, who had been silent until then, suddenly spoke, “Given this turn of events, we must be ready for the possibility that the former Regent might find asylum in the Elven Kingdom and use it as a base to stage an assault on the Roman Empire.”

His statement stirred a wave of alarm throughout the round table meeting. With the exception of the silent royal representative, the attendees exchanged looks of concern.

The Regent’s skills were well-known to all. His ability to unite fragmented tribes into a unified empire was ample proof of his competence. Although this man ultimately fell due to internal conflicts within the Roman Empire during a time of peace, without a common enemy, if he were to go to the Elven Kingdom and become an advisor.

It was difficult to imagine that the northern elves would continue to be satisfied with just their small territory. After all, with the capability, who wouldn’t desire more land?

With the aid of the Regent, the elves would likely trigger an invasion war. Moreover, when the elves initiate a war, the Roman Empire might still be struggling to recover from the drought.

In other words, to prepare for a potential upcoming conflict, did the Roman Empire need to increase its military output amidst such chaos? 

While this wasn’t inconceivable in theory, practically speaking, the Roman Empire simply could not afford the expenses required to expand its military further. Not to mention, the royal craftsmen were nearly starving, and if the royal family couldn’t even afford to sustain their own artisans, how could they think of expanding the army?

After a round of shared glances and unspoken agreement, it was the royal representative who finally voiced a somber conclusion,

“General Dreycar, please devise a solution within your command, or coordinate with Archbishop Peter regarding the financial aspects. Aim to increase and train our military forces without causing further disorder.”

“Uh…” 

General Dreycar remained silent, his brow furrowing deeply. Requesting funds from the Archbishop? Might as well ask him to create money out of thin air.

Archbishop Peter, although maintaining a composed facade, inwardly glared at the royal representative. Asking him for money? He thought himself generous already for not taking theirs, and now they expected him to contribute financially.

Each party had its own ulterior motives, but recognizing the dire state of the Roman Empire, they reluctantly settled down a bit. They agreed to communicate privately about the matter.

This concluded the discussion about the military. However, the looming drought crisis was still a pressing issue.

It seemed no one had a viable solution. Some suggested leaving it to fate, others proposed rebuilding the Regent’s various infrastructures, which would require substantial funds, while a few advocated for a rationing system to endure a few years until the drought’s end.

But the royal representative had another idea. Since the drought heavily affected the central region, resources should be concentrated on Dreke Port to craft an illusion of national wealth and citizenry strength.

In essence, transferred food reserves from drought-stricken areas to Dreke Port, ensuring its inhabitants were well-fed and healthy, while the central region’s farmers were left starving. Thereby, without additional food production, they would use this sole international port to create a facade of a prosperous and strong nation, misleading foreign powers into believing the Roman Empire remained formidable.

The attendees exchanged uncertain glances. The royal family and military leaders understood, however, that if they didn’t proceed with this plan, they might face an invasion from the Elven Kingdom before even dealing with a potential conflict from the powerful nation across the sea.