The mist in the palace garden made even the meticulously manicured roses look listless.
Princess Charlotte Durand sat on the same white wicker chair where she had last met Bernard, patiently listening to a noble’s complaints.
“Your Highness, please be reasonable!” said Count Fevar, a tax farmer from Toulouse. His face, oily from a life of luxury, was now etched with genuine anxiety. “Abolishing the tax farming system… this is simply tearing down our own walls! My family has collected taxes for the royal family for over one hundred years without a single mistake. Now, with one order, you’re discarding us like old shoes? Think of how many families serving the crown will be disheartened!”
Charlotte maintained her signature smile, one gentle enough to melt ice and snow.
“Lord Count, please calm yourself. The original intention of my father and the Minister of Finance is by no means to punish any loyal noble.” Her voice was soft and pleasant, carrying a reassuring power.
“You see, it is clearly stated in the latest Lorraine Gazette that the original tax farmers will have the opportunity to become officials in the newly established General Directorate of Taxes through an evaluation. This is not abandonment, but a transition of responsibilities to make the kingdom’s financial system more efficient in dealing with the Empire’s growing threat.”
Internally, however, she felt a wave of visceral disgust.
‘Tearing down our own walls? How ridiculous.’
‘These so-called “walls” are nothing but leeches sucking the lifeblood out of the kingdom’s body.’
Count Fevar’s tax district was one of the wealthiest grain-producing areas in the south.
The profit was unimaginably high; the taxes he handed over to the royal family each year were likely not even one third of what he actually extorted.
Unlike Bernard, who had been sabotaged by the Crown Prince and handed a mess, these people were the most staunch supporters of the Old System and its greatest beneficiaries.
However, King Louis XI’s strategy was to use these people.
He deliberately created a crisis, forcibly integrating the complex network of noble interests into two major camps — the Hardliners and the Moderates.
While it appeared as if the nation was divided, it was actually far more stable than the past situation of undercurrents and constant vendettas.
The nobles did not know that the Durand family, whom they thought was in constant internal strife, was actually united as never before.
The conflict between the siblings and their father was merely a good play performed for their benefit.
While Charlotte patiently explained how the new tax system would reduce administrative costs through unified management, eventually benefiting the kingdom and all nobles, her thoughts drifted to deeper issues.
The tax farming system, seemingly decayed, was born out of the royal family’s helplessness during a specific historical period.
Years ago, in order to establish an absolute monarchy, the Lorraine royal family fought consecutive wars that weakened the Sword-Bearing Nobles and emptied the treasury.
The crown lacked a massive bureaucratic system covering the entire country to collect taxes directly.
Faced with imminent military spending pressure, they could only “securitize” future tax rights, packaging and selling them in advance to tax farmers capable of collection in exchange for much-needed cash.
This was a financial method of drinking poison to quench thirst, sacrificing the long-term interests of the nation for immediate survival.
The tax farming system was like a giant parasite, dragging the entire society into a deep abyss of chronic death.
Now, under the weight of natural and man-made disasters, social contradictions had reached a breaking point.
If they did not scrape the bone to cure the poison, the entire kingdom would be lost forever.
Past kings did not lack the desire to change; they lacked the power to turn the tide.
But Louis XI was different.
As a member of the Church’s Inner Circle, his wisdom already transcended the era.
Now, coupled with the modern knowledge from another world brought by Allen de Laval, the God’s Messenger, he could naturally produce a feasible plan.
This reform was less of a change and more of a life-extension measure.
The core of this measure was the United Bank conceived by Allen.
The emergence of a central bank would provide the kingdom with unprecedented financing capabilities, and “national debt” in the modern sense would be born.
An outdated and inefficient financing tool like the tax farming system naturally lost its reason for existence.
“…Therefore, Lord Count, please believe that the royal family will not forget the contributions of any meritorious official.”
Charlotte ended the conversation with a perfect piece of official jargon, politely sending away the distraught Count Fevar.
She thought this was only the beginning. Next, groups of Robe Nobility would arrive aggressively to complain or exert pressure, attempting to stop a reform that would cost them their “lives.”
However, to her surprise, her tea party remained unusually quiet throughout the entire morning, save for a few minor figures like Count Fevar who were excluded from the Inner Circle.
Charlotte felt a deep sense of confusion.
This was too abnormal.
Where were those “insects” who were smarter than anyone and had a sense of smell sharper than hounds?
According to their past behavior, the threshold of the royal palace should have been worn down by now.
If they were staying this calm, there had to be a catch.
Although her workload had lightened, Charlotte’s concern grew heavier.
‘Could those fellows be plotting something even more terrifying behind my back?’
Those “insects” who left Princess Charlotte utterly baffled were currently gathered together.
Their carriages did not head toward the Royal Palace but instead joined a more surging flow of traffic toward a single destination — the Laval Mansion.
Bernard de Laval had been promoted to Minister of Finance. The promotion banquet hosted by the Laval House today had already become the hottest social focus in the entire Capital.
Outside the mansion, squads of guards in royal uniforms stood solemnly, their sharp gazes scanning the surroundings, keeping all suspicious spies away.
This impenetrable defense actually provided an excellent place for certain people to plot openly.
Inside the banquet hall, the crystal chandeliers shone brightly. The room was filled with the fragrance of perfume, the rustle of fine clothes, and the clinking of glasses.
Count Omar de la Fontaine, who had once been in a pathetic state at the Thieves’ Guild headquarters, now stood beside Bernard with a beaming face and an intimate posture, as if the two were close friends of many years.
Just as he used to show off his position beside the Princess, he now demonstrated his weight beside the Minister of Finance.
“Lord Bernard, you are truly the pride of our Robe Nobility! I knew that a talent like you would eventually be heavily utilized by His Majesty!”
“Indeed, indeed. The reform plan proposed by the Minister of Finance is far-sighted. We support it wholeheartedly!”
One after another, nauseating praises and flatteries surrounded Bernard like stars around the moon.
Facing these colleagues who once hadn’t even bothered to look at him, Bernard felt no ripples in his heart.
He simply smiled, dealing with everyone calmly. His composure and aura were already those of a true superior.
He was no longer the minor noble who would get a nervous stomach ache from an audience with the King.
Allen’s ideals gave him unprecedented confidence.
These nobles would not feel the slightest bit of shame for their change in attitude.
Their positions were incredibly flexible, always loyal only to their own interests.
In the past, faced with such a radical reform, they would have already been restless, uniting to find a way to resist.
But now, they were all composed, even happy to see it happen.
Only those fools excluded from the circle would run to the Princess to cry.
They didn’t need to plead for mercy; they were here to attend a victory banquet.
They had personally witnessed the birth of the Dawn’s Children and the terrifying power contained within that subversive revolutionary Organization.
They understood earlier than Princess Charlotte that this reform led by the royal family, whether successful or not, was merely a prelude to a true Revolution.
Time was on the side of the Laval House.
Whether it was the royal family or the Sword-Bearing Nobles, they would eventually be crushed by the rolling wheels of history.
What if the Crestbearers were powerful?
In the end, they were made of flesh and blood; they needed to eat and dress, and they could not leave this society constructed by people.
And they would personally create a new Order.
They would use a world far greater than the present to tame those unruly, branded beasts, turning them into the swords in their own hands.
“Robe Nobility”?
They had long since grown to disdain that decayed title attached to royal power.
Now, they had a brand new name that belonged only to them —
The Bourgeoisie.
Just as the atmosphere of the banquet reached its climax, the doors to the hall slowly opened. Everyone’s gaze was instantly drawn toward them.
Allen walked in slowly.
He was wearing a set of clothes with an extremely strange style.
The fabric was deep black, and the tailoring was crisp and clean, lacking any of the complexity and bulk of noble formal wear.
The simple lines outlined a tall and straight figure, with flat shoulders and a tightened waistline. His entire being exuded an unprecedented sense of shrewdness and authority.
It was as if it weren’t a suit of clothes, but a suit of armor born for power.
Beside him was the equally eye-catching Marianne.
She wore a matching black formal dress, with layers of lace and ribbons interwoven. Beneath the fluffy hem, her slender ankles were faintly visible.
This unique dress highlighted her black hair and crimson eyes perfectly, making her look like a thorned rose blooming in the dark night — dangerous and enchanting.
In an instant, Bernard was no longer the center of attention.
Everyone present knew clearly that this mysterious Master Laval, this suspected God’s Messenger, was the true core of this massive transformation.
“Master Allen! That outfit… heavens! It’s truly handsome!”
“Miss Marianne’s beauty today is simply breathless!”
Praise rose from all sides, a hundred times more sincere than the flattery given to Bernard moments ago.
Finally, someone could not suppress their inner fervor and asked the question everyone wanted to ask.
“Master Allen, are you… going to bring us something subversive again today?”
Allen stopped his steps, feeling the gazes in the hall ignited by greed and desire.
He stepped forward and gave a slight cough.
The entire hall instantly became quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
“Everyone, welcome to the Laval House. I’m sure you are all tired of polite pleasantries.”
“Since you have chosen to believe in my father and the Laval House, I must naturally offer a true gift.”
He looked around at the crowd, the corners of his mouth curling into a mysterious arc.
“Its name is Capital.”
“Capital?”
People looked at each other and whispered. Even Bernard’s face was filled with curiosity.
“Today, we won’t talk about reform. We will only explore a simple question: In the new era, what kind of wealth is the most powerful and enduring? Is it land? Is it a title? Or… the ability to turn stone into gold?”
The crowd fell into deep thought.
“We, by virtue of wisdom and diligence, have accumulated vast amounts of wealth. But the forms of this wealth are nothing more than gold, jewels, land, and the King’s bonds.”
Allen’s voice carried a strange magic, making everyone’s heartbeat rise and fall with his rhythm.
“These are static wealth, dead wealth.”
“They lie in the bank vault and are safe, but they do not grow on their own; they do not bloom or bear fruit.”
Allen spread his arms, his movements exaggerated and full of passion.
“And what I want to introduce today is a kind of self-reproducing, living wealth — Capital!”
“The United Bank solved the problem of where money comes from, and the Stock Exchange I am introducing today will solve the problem of how to make money produce more money.”
His gaze swept across every focused and fanatical face. His voice rose slightly, filled with a madness and passion that could overturn the world.
“It will grant us three new powers that neither the Sword-Bearing Nobles nor even His Majesty the King could ever possess!”