Chapter 606 - 368: The Ruined Nobles (Part 2)

Chapter 606: Chapter 368: The Ruined Nobles (Part 2)

"You can call your dragons back now," Figxin said. "Why are you holding a cat?"

"Don’t you think it has a certain flair? Preparing an offer they can’t refuse from behind the scenes. Very ’Godfather,’ don’t you think?"

"The Godfather? What does that have to do with threatening people?" Figxin asked, confused.

Zog put the cat down. "It’s a cultural thing. You wouldn’t get it."

Figxin had grown accustomed to Zog’s many cultural references. "The nobles all signed. That theory from the ’Tree Man’ you mentioned really works—the one about opening a window versus tearing off the roof."

Chinese characters had gained a certain degree of popularity because they were used as keywords in the programming language for Magic.

So, in Figxin’s eyes, a "Tree Man" was just a Tree Man.

"I never knew the Tree Man race was so wise. I thought they spoke so slowly it was infuriating, and that only Druids could manage a conversation with them."

"Uh, that Tree Man isn’t a Tree Man from the Tree Man race."

"Then why is he called a Tree Man?"

"Forget it. It doesn’t matter."

Having successfully handled the nobles, Figxin was in a good mood. "So, the entire North is finally settled, right?"

"Far from it," Zog said, straightening up with a serious expression. "They may have lost most of their privileges, but they still have substantial wealth. That’s enough for them to maintain influence in their local territories. Besides, public perception has inertia."

"Inertia?"

Zog said with a hint of disdain, "It’s the property of an object to maintain its original state of motion. Did you even go to school?"

"The Royal Family’s tutors don’t teach that, and Zet doesn’t either," Figxin replied, completely unashamed.

’This is terrible. The next King of Sutton slipped through the cracks of compulsory education.’ "In any case, it means the common folk will still feel a degree of reverence, even fear, toward the old nobility. That makes it easier for the nobles to scheme within what were once their domains."

"So we still have to keep an eye on them."

"Right. Also, their direct family members, for at least three generations, are barred from becoming civil servants and from joining the military. They won’t pass the political vetting," Zog said, and after a moment’s thought, added, "The official education and media systems are off-limits, too. Both must be tightly controlled. If they get infiltrated and start pushing a personal agenda, you might not see the effects right away, but the long-term consequences would be disastrous."

Zog had seen far too many times the terrible damage caused by moles within the education and media sectors.

Unlike the direct impact of an economic or military strike, this kind of influence often has a much wider reach, and erasing its effects takes far longer.

A hassle, and a disgusting one at that.

Figxin nodded. She had seen what Zog could do with propaganda channels enough times to know they were indeed far more important than she had ever imagined.

"They can still go into business and invest, though. The starting capital and personal networks they have are a massive advantage most people can only dream of. It’s much, much easier for them to start a business than it is for an Ordinary person. Combine that with a relatively good education, and they have a high chance of success."

Zog tapped his fingers on the desk.

The world has always been this way.

All things can be created equal, but for all things to be created equal is... well, impossible.

If life were a game with difficulty settings, then yours would be locked in at birth.

Whether your difficulty setting is NES-hard, a Souls-like, a standard RPG, or life with a built-in cheat engine—it’s all down to luck.

"But the good news is, if their businesses succeed, they’ll be promoting commercial development. If they fail, their hoarded wealth re-enters circulation. Both outcomes are good for us."

A healthy, developing society needs its share of spendthrifts.

Figxin asked, "What’s next, then? When can we resume the advance?"

Resuming the advance required money, and the money was in Zog’s claws. Therefore, the decision of when to attack had always been up to Zog.

"There’s no rush. There’s no way they can scale up as fast as we can. They’re the ones who should be in a hurry. It’s always easier to defend than to attack. You just need to get the Legion into shape."

The Northern Legion was expanding rapidly. New recruits now outnumbered veterans. This was good, but due to restructuring—placing veterans in charge of mixed units of new soldiers—overall unit combat effectiveness had temporarily dropped. There was never enough time for drills.

"Logically, the Royal City should have attacked by now. They must see there’s no advantage in delaying," Figxin analyzed. "Their failure to act can only mean one of two things: either the major Dukes are refusing the call to arms, or he lacks the confidence to commit the loyalist forces the Sutton Clan has spent years building."

The analysis led to the conclusion that the Royal City was also in no position to attack anytime soon.

If things continued this way, the most likely scenario was the Northern Legion being forced to take the offensive, which was not ideal.

"If only he’d suddenly discover a way to counter the howitzers... a way that’s completely useless, but that he’s absolutely convinced will work," Figxin lamented.

"Let’s put aside attacking the Royal City for now. The priority right now is to publicize the results of the noble reforms," Zog said. "Publish the original document, complete with all the nobles’ signatures. It needs to be everywhere, online and off. Offline, I want photocopies posted in every city block. Online, I want this to be the top trending story on every major site. The online part is easy; I’ll need your people for the offline part."

"Alright, I get it. Looks like I’m destined for manual labor," Figxin grumbled.

"It’s not like you’re the one pasting them up. We also need to have this achievement carved into a monument. We’ll erect it right in front of the apartment building where the negotiations happened. Talk to the merchant who owns it. We’re not renting from him anymore—we’re buying the place. It’s going to be a famous historical site in Delong Castle."

"That’s another huge expense. We’d be better off with two more howitzers."

The Northern Legion’s lack of sufficient artillery had always been a major sore spot for Figxin.

"It’s not your money we’re spending. Besides, we’ll earn it all back and more from admission fees down the line. Hey, wait a minute," Zog said, an idea suddenly striking him. "We probably don’t have to spend any money at all. The owner’s a merchant, right? The Zog Group can offer him a few partnership deals. He’ll probably fall all over himself to give us the building."

To develop Delong Castle into an industrial city, they already had to launch a ton of collaborative projects with local merchants. It didn’t matter who they partnered with, so they might as well get a free building out of the deal.

"However, literacy rates are pretty low in the towns outside the Northern Domain and Deepwater City. So, in addition to written announcements, we need to have it on loop on Demon Vision. Hire some Minstrels to turn it into a song and perform it everywhere. And there’s the most traditional method: have Civil Servants go out and announce it in the streets."

This was the most primitive way to issue a decree: set up a stage in the street, have a Civil Servant stand on top, and have them shout their lungs out for several rounds a day.

Conditions were better now, though. They could use a microphone.

"That’s about it. Get to it. I want everyone in our controlled territories—from the little kids to the old folks—to know about this within a week. And anyone else on the Continent who has access to Demon Vision or the internet needs to know, too."

Figxin stood and stretched. "I really can’t wait to see the look on my stupid brother’s face when he hears about this."

"Stupid brother?"

"Yeah. He was never very bright, even as a child. A coward, too."

"Not bright and a coward? Then how did he get the nerve to kill his own father to seize the throne? That’s not something you can do unless you’re ruthless."

"People change as they grow up, I suppose." It was the only reason Figxin could come up with.

"Fair enough. See you later."

Zog bid farewell to Figxin, but a thought lingered. ’Can a person’s personality really change that drastically as they grow up?’

’It’s possible, but it’s more likely that someone was pulling the strings.’

’Who would be pulling the strings?’

’Someone from the Royal City? Unlikely. If it were them, they would have made their move when the old King was even weaker.’

’So it had to be an outsider.’

’Someone from Loman.’

’They had planned a coordinated pincer attack on the Northern Domain, but the negotiations fell apart, which led to Loman abandoning their offensive.’

’It was all starting to connect.’

’But why did Loman back out? What was so special about the Northern Domain that made them retreat...’

’Was it because I’m in the Northern Domain? But I’ve been here for a while.’

A plausible answer surfaced in his mind.

Loman had an unusually close relationship with the Soul Ascenders, and the sci-fi-laced memories he himself had planted had spooked them.

So, it was highly likely that Sutton VII had also logged into the Holy Sanctuary.

’Well then, it seems it’s time for the Support Dragon to make his grand entrance!’