“There is a kind of sleight of hand that only works on paper.”
While the lingering smoke from her cigar tickled my nose and head, Lady Agrippina fashioned a demure, ladylike smile despite the faint stench wafting from her lit tobacco.
Nevertheless, to me, this was nothing short of heretical sorcery.
“Ultimately, if an army is raised but disbanded before any clash occurs, no true battle has taken place… For instance, if a raucous gathering results in heavy drinking, leading to an endless banquet of spirits, or if one retreats to the quarters of their favorite consort to avoid battle and incurs the wrath of the God of Night’s Shadow… Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ah…”
Her examples were so specific that no further explanation was necessary for me to understand her point entirely.
The Bloodless Emperor, our current sovereign, seemed to be a master of such covert political maneuvering. Moreover, he possessed the tact to keep these schemes subtle enough to avoid becoming the subject of derisive folk songs.
The Eulstraeh family’s nobles—though there are occasional anomalies—typically excel as bureaucrats during peacetime. Since the “Foundation Stone Emperor,” the second emperor of the Threefold Empire and the first head of the Eulstraeh family, they have consistently bolstered the empire’s economic and technological foundations.
Still, implementing economic reforms in an era where power, wealth, and military strength are directly intertwined is no easy feat. Even in modern times, when civilian control has curtailed overt violence, reforming the economy—essentially challenging entrenched interests—remains an arduous task.
In an age like this, such reforms could provoke even more radical reactions. They say that after the empire’s founding, many former small kingdoms still retained the brashness of their earlier days. During the period shortly after the fall of the charismatic Founding Emperor, the realm was overrun by traitors attempting power grabs and arbitrary changes to the state structure. These were all quelled by the Foundation Stone Emperor, who earned the moniker “Pillar Emperor” due to the sacrifices he made to stabilize the empire.
Similarly, the Bloodless Emperor, who sought to implement economic policies and delve into infrastructure—a costly and influential realm—could not remain completely bloodless. Considering the combative nature of the people, who had a culture of resolving disputes by sword, one might say this was quite ordinary.
“Regardless, be it a benevolent ruler or a virtuous king, they’ll always cut off the heads of rebels and offer them poisoned wine. There will always be people who suffer and die under any policy. A ruler who never sheds a single drop of blood is nonexistent. To call someone ‘bloodless’ is simply laughable.”
“Excuse me, Count Ubiorum, might we discuss this later? Please.”
It was unsettling to realize that this person, casually cracking jokes about assassinations, held the rank of count and the position of palace count, serving as an ostensibly loyal courtier at the emperor’s side. I couldn’t help but feel a chill at the thought of what other nobles of the Threefold Empire were like. I earnestly hoped they were more serious.
Still, I couldn’t avoid viewing my own homeland with a dispassionate eye.
“Who cares who might be listening? Frankly, he’s just as ruthless as I am.”
“And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Because, in the end, the only thing on his mind is his research. To him, anything that interferes with that isn’t even worth the paper it’s written on.”
She laughed heartily again, clutching her stomach. “If that weren’t the case, we wouldn’t be in this situation, would we?”
I let her laugh her fill, waiting until she caught her breath before prompting her to continue. She straightened, pointing a finger to the ground.
“His Majesty, the supreme ruler seated upon the imperial throne, has, in the previous administration, skillfully exploited rivalries among the courtiers to purge the dissenters. And in a manner that was extremely peaceful and discreet—truly insidious. Encouraging petty squabbles and then subtly undermining them to collapse houses without a fuss.”
“So, the current conflict…”
“Precisely. At the beginning of this administration, His Majesty Martin the First seemed weary of the perennial unrest in the western frontier. He decided to tackle it using his own name, upending the table as it were.”
Though I wasn’t eager to hear the story, Lady Agrippina recounted it with evident delight. Succinctly summarized, it seemed that the current emperor desired to promote foundational research and industrial development within the empire. This included the airship project I had been involved with Lady Cecilia several years ago. The emperor had invested heavily fifty years ago and hoped to see mass production within the next ten years.
To achieve efficient mass production of airships, which require a vast number of components and materials, it was necessary to improve the domestic supply network. However, first, it was crucial to eliminate any opportunities for foreign interference within the country’s borders.
The most vulnerable point for such schemes was the western frontier of Marsheim, a territory governed by the Baron of the Frontier, where loyalty had yet to be firmly established.
In fact, several times, old aristocratic families in the west had fomented unrest by bribing local landlords and remnants of old royal houses, attempting to destabilize the empire’s internal affairs. For an emperor focused on internal peace and research, it was understandable why he would want to resolve this issue swiftly.
During the previous administration, the emperor had focused heavily on central affairs and large duchies, paying little attention to the frontier regions. Unbeknownst to the countryside dwellers, the emperor’s reputation as the Bloodless Emperor was not widely understood. To them, the emperor was merely an eloquent young man fond of money.
The emperor used this misconception to his advantage, initiating several covert actions to resolve the western issues.
First, under the guise of secrecy, he poured substantial imperial funds into the construction of a large defensive line along the western frontier by the Mars-Baden Frontier Baron, intending to seal off the region from neighboring satellite states.
This move alarmed the landowners. Though technically vassals of the Threefold Empire, many still harbored pride in their independence, however outdated it might be. Highly self-respecting, they viewed imperial decrees as secondary or tertiary matters.
Many of these landowners, despite lacking formal diplomatic rights, maintained ties with satellite states and profited from smuggling goods that the empire had banned. Naturally, they could not stand idly by.
However, had they done so, there might have been ways for them to adapt their businesses and survive. Some calm families restrained the hotheads, counseling patience for a future revival.
This annoyed the empire immensely.
“A sly rat is harder to hunt than a rash boar,” remarked Lady Agrippina. Indeed, due to cost-effectiveness, the baron had refrained from swiftly punishing landowners who appeared to be loyal but secretly undermined the empire. This was not only because it would have caused bad publicity among other vassals but also because such a purge could have severely weakened the region, inviting unnecessary foreign involvement and creating significant power vacuums.
The crafty rats knew their presence, though problematic, was necessary for the frontier’s basic functionality.
Hence, upon consultation with the Bloodless Emperor, the frontier baron devised a plan: set fire to the warehouse so the rats couldn’t escape.
Limited by his own resources, the baron might have faltered. But with significant capital input from influential relatives within the imperial family—the Eulstraehs had intermarried extensively—the financial, manpower, and material problems were swiftly resolved.
It was akin to an adult stepping into a child’s squabble. A single fief versus a nation with access to state funds—there was simply no comparison.
This was the border fortress construction project and the Mauser River canal development mentioned in Lady Agrippina’s earlier letter.
With barriers sealing the west and open access from the east, the landed gentry would find themselves unable to act within their own territories. The canal’s creation would shift the flow of trade decisively, managed entirely by imperial bureaucracy, bypassing local landlords altogether.
Once completed, these landlords would become nominal powers, harmless figures who complained only during the New Year, confined like fish in a shrinking pond.
Thus, even the usually cautious “rats” among the landowners were alarmed, giving way to the “boars,” who championed the cause of survival.
“Every move has been carefully orchestrated by the benevolent Bloodless Emperor. The frontier baron is struggling—pretending to struggle—while skillfully maneuvering forces to his advantage.”
“So, even our involvement…”
“Is all part of the grand design,” she concluded.
I managed to refrain from scoffing—an accomplishment, I suppose, thanks to my ingrained servitude. Regardless of how displeased I might feel, I knew better than to show such disrespect in the presence of noble blood. Even in more relaxed settings, such behavior is considered grave rudeness. Given Lady Agrippina’s lenience, I said nothing, though under a stricter noble, even a highly favored vassal could lose their head.
Moreover, risky actions should always be avoided. A minor lapse in judgment could cost someone their life, resulting in their severed head decorating the streets.
“The landowners are already panicked. Key figures they had kept secret have moved prematurely, been exposed, and are now in imperial custody.”
“Key figures?”
“Ah, the descendents of Justus de A’Dain. What do you make of that?”
When she mentioned the name, I must have made an interesting face. Having feigned a bitter expression many times, I was quite certain my scowl surpassed any previous attempts.
A face that undoubtedly exuded repulsion, futility, and sorrow—what an amusing sight I must have been.
I see, Siegfried. You criticized my misfortune earlier, but it seems you, too, have had your share of troubles.
“The rumors, however absurd, always have some basis. Whether the successor who was supposedly executed was a body double or not, it was the symbolic leader the landlords secretly selected in the past who has now been exposed.”
“Over hundreds of years, the legend becomes scripture in its own right.”
“Exactly. The young princess of the De A’Dain family, supposed to debut at a grand rally, had already fallen into the waiting arms of the empire.”
Truly foul. The landlords were oblivious to the intricate plans being drafted within the confines of a much larger pond. Their small pool of operations, limited to their interactions with the frontier baron, blinded them to anyone standing beside the pond.
How cruel this tale is.
“The landed gentry devised careful strategies and plans but fell short. The frontier baron appears to struggle alone, allowing stubborn resistance in various areas, sending inspectors running around to put out fires—all appearances.”
“Ultimately, it’s simply waiting for the arrival of the main imperial army after securing Marsheim.”
“Indeed.”
And the emperor, Lady Agrippina added, also intended to reduce the bloated military expanded under the previous regime, viewing this operation as a convenient opportunity to dispose of surplus inventory.
The eastern campaign, organized by the Dragon-Rider Emperor, had resulted in a vast military: a mix of conscripts and an increased standing army funded by substantial budgets.
But in peacetime, armies are often burdens, draining valuable economic resources.
Yet it was impossible to simply dismiss soldiers who had served the empire faithfully. Doing so would lead to unrest, waste valuable manpower domestically, and possibly spark incidents akin to historical calamities.
To dissolve the military more peacefully, the Bloodless Emperor devised an elaborate plan. He allowed them to work temporarily, rewarding their service with modest pensions and plots of land.
It was clever psychology. People would gladly embrace the idea that “I’ve been acknowledged!” and happily return to civilian life.
Border fortifications, the expansion of the Mauser River, conflicts with the landowners, temporary turmoil in the Frontier Baron’s territory, and post-war rewards of land and pensions for the soldiers—it was all part of a grand plan that, if successful, would yield immense returns decades or even centuries ahead.
It was, in a sense, a ruthlessly pragmatic approach befitting someone not concerned with the immediate well-being of the common folk. For the stability of ten or a hundred years ahead, the loss of hundreds or thousands of lives was, to the emperor, insignificant.
From an almost divine perspective, the emperor was correct. If the empire’s prosperity could ensure millions of individuals were safeguarded for the next century, most would willingly vote for such sacrifices—not to mention exposing those naive enough to prioritize ideals over practical benefits.
Yet for those stuck in the muck, this vision is infeasible.
We in Motthenheim were expendable, perhaps deemed of lower priority due to geographical factors. Even our benevolent lord, despite his care for the region, was constrained by the overarching strategies of the empire.
Whether one should criticize the lord for not secretly evacuating the entire family or commend him for caring for the lives of his people is debatable. When one’s actions could expose the plan to the landowners, and result in unpredictable losses, such decisions are delicate indeed.
“May I excuse myself for a moment?”
“Yes, of course.”
For now, the situation weighed heavily on my mind. A cigarette seemed fitting, offering some respite for an overburdened brain…
—
In the Linean Threefold Empire, even conscripted peasants receive payment as soldiers, and upon discharge from military service, pensions and land grants are formalized. This policy was designed by the Founding Emperor and implemented by the Foundation Stone Emperor to encourage the creation of families and instill a sense of belonging to the state as part of the “nation-state” concept.
Apologies for the delay in updates due to the book publication process.
Lately, my health has been poor, and I’ve been lying around like a stranded sea cucumber.
Fortunately, Volume 4 (Upper) is on track for release as scheduled. Thank you for your patience.
