Chapter 21: The Uncle

Meanwhile, it was time for the young Empress to give her first real speech.

She would sit on the throne behind a curtain, with her maid standing behind her, using perfect ventriloquism to mimic the young Empress’s voice and issue various decrees in her name.

Although there was some consideration of whether to go further by severing the tendons in her hands and feet just in case, it was ultimately decided that having an Empress who needed help to walk would be too conspicuous.

Moreover, the Roman Empire needed an Empress right now, a healthy-looking Empress, and more importantly, a target.

The Empress’s uncle, Garson Roman, reflected that the Roman Empire needed a target.

Only a fool who didn’t understand the world would want to sit on the throne as the supreme ruler of the Roman Empire. This hot seat had to be occupied by a puppet to maintain peace.

Seeing that it was already 6 PM on the wall clock, Garson nodded and signaled his subordinates to begin.

He recalled the time when he bribed the barbarian archer to shoot an arrow into his brother’s back after pretending to surrender under the cover of his soldiers, causing this political genius to die heroically and famously on the battlefield.

With his brother dead, the Roman Empire’s brainpower was halved. The other rational mind was forced to accept the role of Regent, educating his brother’s daughter, but he was ultimately just a rational mind.

Humans were emotional creatures, and he was a rational monster.

This monster was destined to achieve convincing feats only in alliance with a king. And subsequent events proved it beyond doubt.

The Regent, Yang Hao, indeed accomplished all the great deeds since the founding of the Roman Empire.

But he also made many enemies.

One person could not handle all responsibilities at once. After his elder brother’s death, this poor man was destined to fail in balancing infrastructure projects, garnering public support, educating the Empress, educating the populace, and establishing diplomatic relations with other nations.

Exhausted, after meeting with and talking all night with the Isugardian trade delegation at the port, he became obsessed with industrialization.

Originally, Garson intended to spare the Regent’s life and eventually marry his niece to him.

This way, the Regent could legitimately become the ruler of Roman, the target Garson needed.

Although he couldn’t let him become a true king, Garson was willing to allow him a peaceful end in a few years.

But he went too far.

Just because of the overseas country, he was so scared that he sold out the royal family’s interests for the sake of industry.

Hmph. Would Isugard really cross an entire ocean to attack the Roman Empire? That was something only a fool would do.

Even a fool could understand the logistical nightmare of such an endeavor. How would they resupply their troops across the ocean?

For such an obvious matter to terrify him to the point of incoherence, to make him pale, just because the ship was made of iron and emitted steam?

Ah…

What a cowardly man.

Garson sighed. Since this cowardly man chose suicidal madness, he couldn’t be blamed for being ruthless. After all, he was under immense pressure himself, and keeping this man alive would bring trouble.

So, Garson decided to act immediately. During the time the Regent was away at the diocese, he had his niece’s tongue cut out, ensuring she could never speak again, and to prevent her from causing any trouble during his silent exile.

Fortunately, this plan succeeded. But the persistent drought and that damned head of the court disrupted all of Garson’s plans.

In his ear, he heard the voice of the young Empress—or more accurately, the voice of his maid using ventriloquism to mimic the young Empress.

“Thus…”

He quickly waved his hand, signaling the mages to stop relaying the voice. After all, he had reviewed today’s agenda countless times. Using the Empress’s voice to command the majority of the empire’s resources to be directed toward the only external port, Dreke Port, would undoubtedly cause unrest and resentment among the populace, fostering hatred toward the Empress.

But wasn’t this the function a target should serve? Such unpopular orders were meant for the target to bear the brunt of, weren’t they?

Then, when he emerged as the savior, the ignorant masses would naturally side with him.

Ignorant masses…

Thinking of this, Garson couldn’t help but laugh. It was precisely because of these ignorant masses that he believed Yang Hao’s basic education efforts were entirely worthless and useless.

What did his education bring him?

What did his wasteful spending on free healthcare bring him?

Look at his scholars, his industry, and his so-called public welfare facilities—did any of these things bring him a supporter?

None… absolutely none…

His doctors and scholars were killed by the people’s sickles, and most of his public welfare facilities, except those in the capital, were dismantled and sold by the farmers.

These ignorant people were so blinded by money that they would probably be willing to eat shit as long as they were paid enough.

Providing education to these people instead of the noble children, hmph, in Garson’s opinion, it would have been more practical to kill all these serfs. At least that would reduce the variables coming from the peasants and demonstrate his resolve at the imperial council.

Returning to the matter at hand…

“Uh…” 

The loud shouts from a distance made Garson frown. He quickly waved his hand to signal for the windows to be closed, then grabbed the lamb leg from the plate on the table and took a bite of the tender, juicy meat.

This was a luxury item brought from the western pastoral region, costing several silver coins per bite, a privilege reserved exclusively for the royal family.

What was I thinking about? Right, it was about that day when the Regent, under immense pressure, had to make promises to the people.

Honestly, Garson was surprised that day.

He had originally planned to depose the Regent and secretly execute him somewhere.

But to his surprise, this quick-witted man chose a publicly unpopular move that actually managed to temporarily rally the potentially unreliable supporters to his side, extending his own safety for another year.

Under the wave of public opinion, Garson’s alliance had no choice but to hold off temporarily.

Unfortunately, the Regent clearly overestimated the character of those commoners.

If commoners had the noble qualities of aristocratic children, would they still be called commoners?

Thinking of this, Garson couldn’t help but laugh. 

Swallowing the greasy lamb meat, he sipped some wine and remarked, “Winning over the people with just a few words. Truly the style of the Church of the God of Light. One wonders if those already opulent churches had added a few more layers, or if those already wealthy and extravagant priests have acquired a few more gold rings.”

The diocese had a deeply entrenched control over the populace. It was said that when priests preached on the streets, they would deliberately put some addictive substances in the holy water, turning it into a mist and spraying it out.

In the misty atmosphere, the priests loudly praised the greatness of the God of Light, and those commoners who accidentally inhaled the mist, already lacking self-control, naturally followed suit, listening to the divine teachings.

Anyone who could resist eating their dessert for ten minutes after a meal could ignore the priests’ traditions, but for the commoners, this seemed too difficult?

Garson took another sip of wine and, after a few light laughs, snapped his fingers and said, “Send a secret letter to General Dreycar. Tell him that the royal family bowing to the diocese is a last resort, but with the support of gold coins and veterans, I will try my best to advocate for the military’s autonomous expansion at the next council meeting. In return, he needs to help me against the diocese.”

Because of this, the power of religion could not be ignored.

Garson’s expression turned serious. If there were no external interference, the drought would be resolved in at most three years. By then, the entire Roman Empire would be his playground.

As long as he could politically balance the factions, becoming the first and greatest emperor in Roman Empire history would only be a matter of time.

That warlord who only wanted to fight, the high priest who only wanted to amass wealth, the nobles and landowners looking out for themselves. What political means do they have to compete with me? What prestige do they have to fight me?

As long as I hold onto my niece, the puppet Empress, I have the authority to issue orders to the entire empire.

Even if you are dissatisfied, under the Empress’s orders, you must maintain the appearance of unity and peace.

Not to mention, with your foolish minds, you will choose to hate me instead of hating the young Empress?

A bunch of fools…

The only one who could compete with me, the Regent, is gone. And you? Hmph…

They were just a bunch of fools.

The young Empress’s uncle was behaving recklessly in the palace in the capital.

***

Meanwhile, far away in the simple underground shrine of St. Peter’s Cathedral, the saintess dressed in plain clothes and praying heard news that her friend would be visiting her.

“Visiting? A representative of the royal family? What’s going on? What has happened in these past few years?”

The holy lady, who had spent all her time kneeling on a prayer mat except for eating, sleeping, and washing, was greatly puzzled. But she couldn’t help but feel a surge of resentment.

‘After all this time, he still refuses to come and see me, only sending Priscilla to discuss trivial matters with me. When will he finally come to his senses and be willing to embrace my Lord? Hmph!’

The saint shook her head and said that she would keep her vow and would only leave this humble shrine if he came personally.

But she could make a concession.

‘I’ll let Priscilla come in four days—I want to hear what this little witch has to say on his behalf.’

Filled with resentment towards Yang Hao for not contacting her all these years, the saint resumed her prayers and sent her personal nun away.

The soft praises to the God of Light resumed, and they continued for the next four days.

Priscilla had ridden with her team to St. Peter’s, the city of faith in the diocese. Even she, accustomed to the luxury of the royal family, couldn’t help but be shocked by the wealth of the diocese.