Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 543 - 542: Obstacles

The arguments among the nobles were unsettling.

Victoria Wilder sat beside Crown Prince Wales, her icy face expressionless. Her gaze swept over the gathered nobles in the castle’s long hall, with a hint of imperceptible disdain hidden in her eyes.

These good-for-nothings.

They wore lavish robes and engaged in grandiose discussions within this castle. Their bloodlines were noble, their titles impressive, and while their tone suggested they were deciding the fate of kingdoms, their impassioned speeches could ultimately be summed up in one word: Interests.

A righteous voice echoed through the long hall: "...The Carray Family supports the reconstruction of the King’s Road. We are willing to offer a hundred strong workers, and my nephew will personally lead them..."

"Such a great sacrifice! A hundred people!" someone snidely remarked, "Aren’t there more than a hundred just tending to your horses?"

"The Carray people and resources are on the eastern front. We’ve given all we can for this kingdom — Yet Earl Grey Mountain, can’t you even spare five hundred mules?"

"I disagree with the reconstruction of the King’s Road — although the Regent Duke makes a valid point that the King’s Road could yield great benefits in the long run, we’re in the midst of war now. Recklessly diverting manpower and resources to roadwork, what if it impacts the war? I believe we only need to rebuild the east-west road, which would facilitate troop movement to the front lines..."

"I oppose!"

...

The arguments among the nobles were truly unsettling.

Wales Moen sat like a puppet at the top, and when the noise in the hall was nearing chaos, this nominal heir to the throne finally couldn’t help but speak: "Gentlemen, ladies, let’s put aside the argument — the project of the King’s Road can be discussed slowly, after all, it’s winter now. Let’s first discuss the town council and business system..."

Wales’ voice brought the debates in the hall down a notch, but his new proposal quickly led to a fresh wave of disputes — the nobles, large and small, were the first to praise the long-term vision of the Regent Duke and the crown prince, praising their wise plan, and then each strongly suggested implementing these new systems on someone else’s land.

If it weren’t for Victoria Wilder and Baldwin Franklin sitting there, they might have done more than just argue.

Such debates were destined to be fruitless, and as the noise in the hall reached its peak once more, Wales Moen had to speak again before Victoria Wilder finally stood up.

"Enough."

The voice of the Northern Queen was cold, and as her words fell, the entire castle’s temperature dropped sharply to near freezing.

"I hope this cold air helps you cool down." Moments later, Victoria retracted her vast magic power, and as the hall’s temperature gradually returned, she cast her gaze over the nobles who were frightened into silence.

These were the power-wielding nobles who controlled half of the nation’s extraordinary power, land, and wealth. Yet they were short-sighted, selfish, and only by banding together would they drag the kingdom down — but even as Regent Duke, all she could do was warn them this way.

"We didn’t come here to argue." After a ten-second silence, Victoria continued, "The development of town councils and business reform is an inevitable direction, but I understand everyone’s concerns — so none of this will be forced on any of you. The pilot of the town councils will be chosen from the Northern Territories and the royal family’s lands, and the business reforms will be handled by Duke Franklin’s West Territory Duchy."

Baldwin Franklin, with a bookish elegance, nodded slightly in response to Victoria’s words.

The nobles in the long hall first fell silent for a moment, then one by one showed relief — yet they dared not show it overtly, so they tried their best to pull off a reserved yet humble smile, masking their true intentions with chaotic praise and tribute — their skills in disguise were not unsophisticated, and their smooth, modest actions and heartfelt compliments showcased their adequacy as nobles. However, Victoria Wilder had seen through these masks since her youth.

Maintaining a frozen facade was the most courtesy she could show these men.

She sat down, and Duke Baldwin Franklin stood up, and continued: "All new policies will not be enforced, but let me clarify one thing in advance — remember, one of the virtues of a noble is keeping your word, so do not forget what you decided today. Those opposing new factories on their lands today, in the future, if you wish to build one, must unconditionally pay the royal family a thirty percent redemption fee to buy back the right you forsook today; those rejecting the idea of having roads connect their lands today, future kingdom roads will bypass you, unless you buy back the roads like redeeming factory rights; and those refusing to sign trade agreements today will not be allowed to establish new trade guilds or companies for the next ten years — unless you redeem the business reform rights."

The Duke of the West, with a calm demeanor, listed these conditions, and his tone and expression quickly puzzled and unsettled the nobles who had just begun to be gleeful.

They knew what was being discussed here today — it was a collection of radical, shocking things, strange rules coming from the southern borders. The Regent Duke demanded that the nobles relinquish some privileges, obey the royal family’s control, establish new factories on their lands, create town councils that could threaten the leaders’ rule, build roads, and set up companies...all of which were thoroughly threats and deprivation when taken individually.

Yet the Duke of the West called them "rights" and announced that every noble objecting today was giving up these "rights," even stating that if anyone wished to build factories, launch companies, or construct roads in the future, they would have to pay to buy back these "rights"?

This absurd, bizarre statement was truly hard to comprehend.

Within the long hall, the participants remained silent in their confusion, whispering to each other in bewilderment, with some seeming to gradually catch on and some appearing intimidated by the Duke of the West’s stance. They cautiously summoned their attendants, wrote notes and handed them to the duke, but most just spread their hands and shook their heads —

Who would want such "rights"? The right to cut flesh from their own bodies?

This tumultuous meeting finally came to an end, and the nobles scattered away. Soon, only two Regent Dukes and a nominal Crown Prince were left in the large hall, aside from the attendants and guards.

"This is the first time I’ve seen you angry," Victoria looked at Duke Baldwin and said with a touch of sigh, "I thought you would never lose your temper on such an occasion."

"I am indeed angry, but also earnest," Baldwin sat on the chair, looking weary, "This could cause some confusion for a portion of people, at least they might think it over more, while another portion... they might someday bring some contribution to the kingdom’s treasury."

Victoria frowned, "How many people were swayed?"

"Less than ten percent," Duke Baldwin recalled the number of people who handed in notes, shaking his head, "Most are nobles far from King’s Road, whose territories aren’t prosperous, and those landless royal aristocrats who have little concern for wealth and privilege but fear losing the royal protection. They express a willingness to privately learn more about our new policies."

"Ten percent..." Victoria snorted, but her snort was filled with deep helplessness, "That’s actually quite a lot."

The Northern Queen, too, faces matters of helplessness—this left Baldwin filled with emotions.

"As we predicted, fraught with challenges," he sighed, telling Victoria, "We have tried our best to adjust the areas involved in the reforms, removing those entries that most affect the local nobles, yet we still faced such strong resistance. Counting yesterday’s and the day before’s meetings, three whole days of discussion, and only five trivial clauses were passed..."

"I said from the beginning, no matter how much you adjust, the result is the same—taking a gold coin or a hundred gold coins from their pockets makes no difference, for they aren’t willing to lose even a copper coin," Victoria shook her head, "You want to set up factories on their lands, build roads, set up officials, this touches their very foundation."

Wales Moen, who hadn’t spoken till now, suddenly spoke, "At least we can start from the royal family’s direct territories—and some of your lands."

"Our..." Baldwin showed a faint bitter smile, "We personally understand the necessity of doing this, but those Marquis, Earl, and Viscount under our name might not think the same... even with our personal push, implementing reforms internally remains immensely challenging."

Feudal lords dividing regions, each standing as a nation.

Victoria Wilder suddenly thought of what Gawain said about the kingdom noble system before she left the southern borders, and thought of the "New Aristocracy" system there.

The Earls and Viscounts over there... do not wield such power.

She shook her head, casting aside some unpleasant associations, and looked at Wales, "I’m surprised you support these new policies so much, I actually didn’t count the royal family’s direct territories in."

"I know, that’s your... to the Moens..." Wales shook his head, pressing back the words "last shred of respect," "I can see the significance of these new policies, I know they are beneficial to this country."

"Actually, those who opposed in the meeting, resisted, and refused to state their position, can also see," Victoria’s gaze turned towards the empty hall, speaking slowly, "Even if they can’t see the role of new factories, new commercial associations, and public schools, they can at least see the rise of the Cecil Clan, right... but they still oppose, still refuse to state their position."

Baldwin Franklin sighed, "It’s not that they can’t see the benefits this has for the kingdom, they just aren’t willing to pay their own interests for it. Their thoughts are simple: why can’t it be someone else, why can’t the factory be built on someone else’s land—yes, everyone thinks this way."

"Think of something positive," after a brief silence, Victoria suddenly said softly, "At least, the crowning of the new king has gained support."

Baldwin Franklin showed a slightly sarcastic smile, "Yes, compared to building a factory on their land, having them support the king is indeed a small matter."

After saying this, the Duke of the West stood up in a visibly unpleasant mood, looking at the exit of the hall, after a few seconds of silence, he slowly said, "The proposal for the municipal council is very likely to fail, this reform is too radical, we can postpone it, the school as well, it can be postponed—but the new factories must be there, at all costs, otherwise, we will be forever held by the throat by the Cecil Clan."

Baldwin Franklin left.

Victoria watched the back of the Duke of the West as he left, saying nothing for a long time.

Wales Moen’s voice broke the silence on the scene, "Duchess Wilder, did Duke Gawain Cecil really express to you that he has no interest in the throne of Anzu that day?"

Victoria nodded, "He did indeed say so."

"Oh..." Wales Moen calmly nodded, and then also slowly stood up, "Then I will take my leave, please yourself."

Finally, only Victoria was left in the hall.

The Northern Queen looked at this empty place, looked at this place that was filled with noise and quarrels not long ago, standing there for a long time.

A faint sigh sounded in the hall, and with the drifting of snowflakes, her figure disappeared beside the throne.

The snowflakes condensed by magic power scattered into the air, and the last few crystal snowflakes landed on the portrait of Francis II hanging behind the throne, melting into water, slowly dripping down.