home

search

Chapter 68

  Richard held the account book, the scent of pine resin from the burning logs in the hearth casting a warm glow on his face. The study’s temperature was pleasant, forming a sharp contrast with the snow-blanketed world outside. Kidd coiled around Arno’s ankles, eyes half-closed as if asleep, each breath making the "scarf" of fur around Arno’s calves tighten slightly before relaxing again. Perhaps having a pleasant dream, Kidd stuck out his pink tongue to lick his lips, moved his heavy head, and shifted into a new position.

  In the short three months since arriving in Pramisburg, Arno had quelled the city’s unruly factions and earned around 300,000 gold coins.

  Though this sum seemed large, it was actually not much: nearly 100,000 gold coins had been spent on renovating the city, and the remaining amount would be the mansion’s sole "legal" income over the next two years—an average of just 100,000 gold coins per year. With a population of 270,000 to 280,000, once the city’s security stabilized and living standards improved, a population boom would occur in the short term as people no longer faced cold, hunger, or malnutrition.

  As commoners had more family members, the financial gap would widen, and their desire for money would intensify, leading to a series of conflicts hidden beneath the surface to erupt. To bind Pramisburg to himself, beyond personal adulation, the most important thing was economic interdependence.

  Humans were forever selfish creatures. Those praised as selfless and righteous seemed detached from reality, but in truth, everyone’s pursuits differed. Some pursued simple wealth, others power—these were the selfish ones in worldly eyes. What did the righteous pursue? Prestige! Prestige could be transformed into other things, such as money or power, when necessary.

  Arno had pondered deeply on how to make Pramisburgers grateful and satisfied while also creating profits through economic means. The world’s "heavy industry," like in his previous world, relied on cutting-edge technology, an integral part of which was "magic." The widespread use of permanent magic circles solved power problems and made many tech-based innovations possible. However, Pramisburg currently lacked not only mages capable of creating "permanent magic circles" but even magic apprentices.

  Excluding heavy industry, the remaining option was labor-intensive light industry, which generated wealth through cheap labor and repetition. Looking at the history of his previous world, many powerful nations had started with light industry, which required no advanced technology or high-level technicians—only cheap labor that could be trained quickly. Pramisburg had an unparalleled advantage in this regard, with the cheapest labor force in almost the entire eastern empire.

  His thoughts growing distant, Arno’s pupils began to dilate slowly, his gaze seeming to penetrate the desk, floor, and into the distant void. His long index finger tapped the armrest rhythmically, each soft tap sounding like a drumbeat in everyone’s heart.

  What type of light industry could drive the economy? The answer lay in daily necessities, specifically clothing.

  Arno snapped back to reality, his tapping finger freezing mid-air. He glanced at the four people sitting in the room and asked, "Do any of you know of a white flower whose petals are like silk threads forming a cluster?"

  The sudden shift from discussing the mansion’s finances to flowers left the other four in the room momentarily stunned. After about two minutes, Cooper exhaled, his eyes lifting slightly and eyebrows raised in a broad smile. "I know, my lord," he said. "My late mother worshipped the Light God, and I once accompanied her on a pilgrimage to Sunset City, where this plant grows in abundance around the city. They call this flower the ‘Divine Flower,’ and because it blooms like dense stars in the sky, it’s also called ‘Starry Night’—a unique ornamental flower of the Church of Light."

  Richard slapped his forehead and chimed in, "That’s correct. However, this plant is only cultivated in Sunset City and major churches, rarely seen elsewhere, and non-believers seldom know about it."

  Arno was slightly surprised but realized it made sense: high-quality cotton bloomed pure white, matching the Church’s propaganda of the "color of purity," thus earning the name "Divine Flower." Rubbing the copper ring on his finger, he mused, "I recall that Church missionaries have arrived in Pramisburg, haven’t they?"

  The Church missionaries had arrived just before the snow blocked the roads, and it had been several days since. With the recent New Year preparations, Arno had no time to receive them, and he also intended to let them wait—they should not assume they could act arrogantly as the empire’s largest religion, as such attitudes would not work in Pramisburg. Unexpectedly, the matter now involved the Church, which was conveniently timely.

  Arno nodded, letting the topic drop, and turned to Richard, the tax officer of Pramisburg and effectively the mansion’s financial advisor and Arno’s vassal. "Prepare next year’s budget as soon as possible; I will review it. Note that the budget must be reasonable—any unreasonable sections will be rejected and redone, to save you from embarrassment."

  The budget system implemented in the mansion was a world-first innovation. Though Richard did not fully understand why simple matters were being complicated, he executed the task well. The mansion oversaw all city affairs, including road repairs, house renovations, urban construction, sanitation, and staff salaries, as well as all aspects of the garrison and city guard. After Prince Konrad’s visit, Arno had completely broken with Yoberg, bypassing the governor’s office to directly intervene in city guard affairs; the city guard was now effectively Pramisburg’s army and Arno’s private force.

  With all privileges and salaries of the city’s elite now dependent on Arno, his control over the city had reached a new level.

  He turned to Marvin. "I need to expand the military: target one thousand cavalry and two thousand elite infantry. Draft a proposal and submit it to Richard; funds will be allocated immediately upon approval."

  Marvin froze, rubbing his calloused hands with an awkward smile. "Well… I’m not good at writing proposals." He was adept at battle and training recruits but lacked skill in administrative work. He knew the city lord had many ideas and a strong desire for control—one could question his plans but not refuse to execute them. The thought of managing the food, clothing, and supplies for three thousand troops next year left him unable to avoid the task.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  Arno smiled. "I’ll assign several clerks to the city guard; you can dictate, and they will write."

  "Thank you, City Lord!" Marvin beamed, recognizing this as a significant benefit—literate individuals were extremely rare in Pramisburg.

  Next, Arno looked at Harvey. "I plan to organize a large-scale slave hunt after spring; make the necessary arrangements."

  Harvey, like Marvin, had been sitting silently as a background figure. He sat up straight—once a gang leader with a rustic air, after just a month, he now resembled a merchant like Salkomo, though his eyes held a cruelty beyond Salkomo’s shrewdness, as trading humans as livestock doomed him to never be a gentle gentleman.

  Arno’s words made him nod repeatedly. The slave trade peaked each winter as stored slaves were sold as winter consumables, with only 30–40% surviving. After spring, the slave shortage reappeared, driving the prosperity of spring slave hunts. Even without Arno’s order, Harvey and other slave traders would venture into the mountains after the snow melted, but Arno’s involvement would scale up the operation significantly.

  At this, Arno waved the three away. After they left, only Arno and Alma remained—some matters were not for others to hear, as the saying went: "A lord who lacks secrecy risks his position."

  "What has Yoberg been doing recently?" It had been nearly a month since Prince Konrad’s visit, during which the prince and Salkomo had reached several cooperation agreements, though these did not involve profit-sharing from Pramisburg, focusing only on trade between the chamber of commerce and the prince.

  Alma, already prepared, replied immediately, "Since returning to Millin City, Yoberg has been inactive, spending his days carousing with prostitutes or holding banquets. No secret meetings have been observed, and while we can’t investigate the most private details, overall he has been behaving."

  This was expected—after offending the prince and receiving a dressing-down, Yoberg had realized his conflict with Arno could not be delegated; if he wanted to deal with Arno, he must act personally. The destruction of House Bole had not caused a political storm, as the capital accepted Bell Province’s conclusion that the house had been wiped out by bandits.

  Everyone knew the truth but chose to ignore it, as uncovering it would benefit no one and offend powerful nobles in Bell Province. Now wiser, Yoberg could no longer use others as tools—the harsh reality had blocked his path.

  Still, his apparent calm made him all the more dangerous.

  "Keep a close watch on him—I want a detailed report on his every action, even his sleeping posture." Arno changed the subject. "How is training progressing for the newly recruited personnel?"

  Each winter saw many poor refugees die from the cold, making it the busiest time for selling children in exchange for winter supplies. Alma had bought around two hundred girls of good appearance for a small sum, and they were now in the training phase. Though prostitution was lowly, it was not heavily discriminated against—even princes summoned prostitutes during hunts, indicating that across the empire and the continent, the profession was seen as undignified but not deeply stigmatized.

  Alma bowed her head reverently, staring at her newly ordered luxurious leather boots. "I’ve followed your instructions and assembled two hundred girls. The situation is optimistic so far—your methods are… excellent." A sense of fear grew within her: Arno had advised that buying only the girls would not ensure control; the best way was to purchase their most cherished family members as well.

  Though labor was cheap, demand was high for tasks citizens disdained, such as transporting waste, which was assigned to these families. This solved the shortage of dirty jobs, created emotional bonds for the girls, and gave them a goal and hope: complete several important intelligence tasks as agreed, and they and their families would gain freedom and prosperity.

  A demon manipulating human hearts! This was Alma’s assessment of Arno, though she dared not voice it. As his accomplice, she surprisingly felt a thrill.

  Arno nodded. "Good. Remember not to mistreat them—provide adequate food, clothing, and respect. Hire two scholars to teach them literacy and knowledge. Alma, remember: women can attract men not just through nudity; sometimes, dignity is more alluring than body." He paused. "I’ve also spoken to Salkomo—prepare a group of the best girls; he will take them to the capital in spring."

  Alma started, suddenly raising her head, but upon meeting Arno’s calm gaze, she quickly lowered her head and agreed.

  Outside, the wind howled, and snow had fallen for two days, collapsing several unrenovated houses and injuring over a dozen people. Meanwhile, a wave of refugees poured into the city—Pramisburg’s policy of welcoming all attracted many who braved hardships to arrive, unlike other cities that strictly banned refugees.

  Eger looked up at the snow-laden canopy above, which creaked under the weight. He had just picked up a broom to clear the snow when someone snatched it from him and climbed onto the canopy. "Lord Eger, you shouldn’t do this yourself—leave it to us!"

  Eger smiled at the refugees, snowflakes falling on his white-trimmed cloak. He brushed them off, the silver bracelet on his wrist shining brightly in the snow, the silver cross pendant swinging with his movement and drawing attention.

  The soup kitchen under the canopy continued its distribution: ground barley mixed with vegetables and minced meat boiled into a thick porridge so dense a branch could stand upright in it. Priests ladled the hot porridge into various containers, accepting thanks with calm dignity.

  He picked up a folded leather coat and handed it to an old woman, who received it with tears in her eyes, her gaze burning with gratitude. He patted her dirt-covered hand without disgust, offering a warm smile.

  In that moment, his heart was filled with profound satisfaction.

  Gazing at the refugees saved by their charity, Eger exhaled contentedly. Pramisburg was better than he had imagined—since arriving, he had seen no crime and had not been cheated. This was a city vastly different from what the Church records described, lifting his previously gloomy mood.

  "Eger, the City Lord requests your presence." A garrison soldier entered the canopy, stamping snow from his boots, which fell in a shower.

  Eger smiled, pouring hot water into a wooden cup and handing it over. "You’ve gone to trouble—warm yourself with this." The soldier smiled gratefully, holding the cup as heat seeped through the thin walls, chasing away the cold. Eger pressed, "Do you know why he wants to see me? I’d like to prepare."

  The soldier shook his head. "Not sure—it’s an order from the captain."

  Eger pondered, then instructed the nearby priests and pulled his hood over his head. "Let’s go meet the City Lord."

  It had been four days since arriving in Pramisburg, and the City Lord had not received him, making Eger anxious. He was not here to sightsee or do charity; church construction and personnel arrangements required negotiation with the City Lord.

  Braving the storm for over half an hour, his body heated by the effort, he finally saw the snow-cloaked mansion, solemn and noble.

  After watching the soldier leave, he brushed the snow from his clothes and entered the side hall.

  A strikingly handsome man smiled at him. "The City Lord awaits you in his study—follow me, please."

  "Thank you for your trouble," Eger replied politely.

Recommended Popular Novels