Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master

Chapter 128

128. War with Money (2)

"Urgent news! Renslet! The great wall of Northern Renslet has been invaded!"

"The North—things seem to be getting out of hand up there too!"

Meanwhile, the Empire finally received the delayed news from the North.

The North was so isolated that reports only arrived after the battle had already ended.

"We need to send part of our forces to the North! In the past, this might have been difficult, but with our current military supply production, it’s entirely feasible!"

"That’s right! We don’t even need to pull troops from the borders or the walls. Even sending a portion of the central army would allow the Empire to exert its influence over the North."

The North, which had frequently provoked the Empire with its currency system based on Magic Stones and its independence, now presented what Emperor Canbraman and his high-ranking officials saw as a golden opportunity.

"We can’t allow this! The North was the first to develop the steam engine."

But someone opposed the plan.

It was Crown Prince Julian.

"I agree with His Highness, the Crown Prince. If our capabilities are at this level, theirs must be even more advanced."

The nobles in the Noble Assembly supported Crown Prince Julian’s argument.

"Even so, the North lacks population and land. Compared to our Empire, they’re no match."

"I’d like to remind everyone that the Magic Stones and coal consumed throughout the Empire come from the North."

"That’s precisely why we should send forces. Just like last time, we can frame it as a relief or support mission."

"His Majesty’s words are absolutely correct. Rumor has it that the legendary White Serpent has appeared as well. This time, the North won’t refuse aid troops..."

The debate in the imperial palace remained sharply divided.

However, this confrontation quickly fizzled out.

"Urgent report! The Orcs, barbarians, and White Serpent that invaded the North have been defeated by the Northerners!"

"What?!"

"As expected..."

A punitive expedition against the North was out of the question, and even attempting economic sanctions was infeasible.

The North had already won the war against the barbarians before the Empire could even mobilize its forces.

Trying to intervene after the fact wasn’t possible either.

The Magic Stones, coal, and precision parts sold by the North were immediately indispensable to the Empire.

"...Forget about the North for now. Let’s focus on our own war efforts."

"Yes, Your Majesty..."

"A wise decision, Your Majesty."

The brief opportunity that had come and gone too quickly left the Empire filled with regret. That frustration was then taken out on the Mongar Orcs.

"Direct all production capacity toward military supplies!"

"Requisition all wagons and horses across the Empire!"

"Don’t worry about weapons and clothing! We’ll supply them until you’re sick of it!"

And in the process, there were some minor sacrifices.

It wasn’t as catastrophic as the downfall of the Empire’s artisans and guilds, but still.

"Your Majesty, however... even though weapon prices have dropped, the sheer quantity required is..."

"Can’t we borrow from the Imperial Bank and the merchant guilds?"

"Well, the loans from the banks haven’t been fully repaid yet. In fact, even the principal borrowed during the previous emperor’s reign remains outstanding..." ⱤaꞐȯBË????

"Aren’t we paying it back bit by bit?"

"Your Majesty, if we only repay the principal, the banks and merchants incur losses. We must also pay the interest outlined in the promissory notes. That interest has been accumulating since the previous emperor’s time..."

"You’re bringing up the same old complaints. Let them know clearly—out of my mercy, I’m acknowledging the principal they lent to the Imperial House."

With this veiled threat that they could be labeled traitors and lose their loans and interest all at once, the Imperial Bank and merchant guilds were once again compelled to provide funds to the Imperial House as if donating to a charity.

Compared to the previous emperor, who hadn’t even repaid the principal, the current emperor was relatively lenient.

The banks and guilds couldn’t afford the risk of severing ties with the Imperial House over this issue.

With these minor sacrifices as fertile ground, the Imperial Army grew stronger than ever before.

Even low-ranking conscripts were outfitted with gleaming steel armor and weapons, and they were provided with high-quality cotton uniforms—complete with spares.

"I’ve never worn clothes this soft and glossy before! And they’re giving us three sets of them...?"

"Is this all made of Imperial Steel?! Am I really wearing armor crafted from Imperial Steel? My goodness... this isn’t a dream, is it?"

The changes in the Imperial Army extended to the soldiers’ meals.

"Thanks to Mary’s blessing, we’ve had an unprecedentedly bountiful harvest again this year."

"Good. Send it all as military rations!"

The soldiers could now enjoy lavish meals, seasoned with spices like Arad salt, which they would’ve only tasted on special occasions back home, every single day.

"Wow... what kind of food is this? I’ve never eaten anything this delicious before!"

"This is incredible... I feel like a noble."

"His Majesty even cares for us lowly soldiers like this!"

"For the Thousand-Year Empire, we’ll fight to the death!"

This dramatically boosted the morale and combat power of the soldiers.

Their loyalty to the emperor soared to unimaginable heights.

Meanwhile, these abundant resources and supplies weren’t limited to the Imperial Army’s main forces.

"Those in the main forces seem to be having the time of their lives, huh?"

"Our domain’s troops were like that in the beginning, too."

The faction that began suppressing guilds and artisans to establish factories relatively late had managed this much. The Noble Assembly and the Church, which had achieved industrialization far earlier, had been enjoying such prosperity for some time.

Thanks to this, about five months after the Mongar’s full-scale invasion began, the tide of war shifted overwhelmingly in favor of the Empire.

"The era of humanity... the age of humanity has arrived."

In such dire conditions, Doom had fought desperately, gained profound insight, and became the Empire’s first Grand Swordmaster.

But in this timeline, that was no longer possible.

"Send word of our victory."

Suppressing his mixed feelings, Doom declared their triumph.

"Understood."

At his words, a battle mage stepped forward and bowed.

The mage, dispatched from the Golden Tower, was covered in various enchanted artifacts, as befitting someone from the prestigious institution.

Taking a crystal orb out of a dimensional bag, the mage spoke to Doom.

"I will send a magical communication to the Imperial Palace."

The magical communication device recently developed by the Golden Tower had been rapidly distributed to the palace and military, replacing messenger pigeons almost overnight.

"Victory reports have been transmitted to the Solar Palace!"

Leaving the mage to his work, Doom raised his sword high toward the soldiers.

"The Empire! Humanity has triumphed! I am proud of you all!"

Waaaah!!

The deafening cheers of victory erupted once again. The sound flowed and spread like waves, engulfing the entire wall.

And amidst it all—

‘Hmm?’

As Doom glanced around, the disappointment that had been gnawing at him seemed to vanish.

‘I was wrong. The war isn’t over yet.’

In his field of vision appeared knights affiliated with the Noble Assembly and the Church.

‘The real war starts now.’

Though they joined in the victory cheers, their stiff expressions and uneasy eyes betrayed their discomfort.

‘So, they were hiding powerful individuals.’

A faint smile spread across Doom’s pale face.

Upon closer inspection, both the Noble Assembly and the Church had warriors equivalent to Sword Masters in their ranks.

They had tried to conceal them, but at this moment of relaxed vigilance, Doom’s honed senses—those of someone who had reached the peak of Sword Mastery—easily detected them.

For beings of such skill, no pulse-checking was needed to discern their capabilities.

‘Most attempts to hide power are clumsy.’

The majority seemed to have only recently reached the level of mastery.

‘The Noble Assembly and the Church have grown richer than ever, thanks to the support of the Bishop Company.’

Doom could guess why Sword Master-level individuals had been popping up suddenly.

‘If they’re that skilled, the Imperial Household should have been informed. That they weren’t...?’

This hinted at another war—potentially even more brutal than the one against the barbarians—awaiting him.

‘If the United Kingdom and the North join this fray...?’

Indeed, wars fought between humans are far more entertaining.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The once-muted heart of the Dark Grand Duke, dulled by a tedious war, began pounding fiercely once again.

***

The Empire celebrated victory, and as its industrial revolution reached full swing, new battles of a different kind were being waged at the center of this transformation—by Entir and the Bishop Company.

"Buy a newspaper! Read all about it! With the Bishop Times, you’ll know exactly how the world’s turning!"

Printing and papermaking techniques imported from the North allowed newspapers to be published every three days.

At the printing houses, dozens, even hundreds, of carrier pigeons flitted about in chaos as news was gathered and compiled.

Once magical communication devices became widely distributed, daily newspaper publication seemed within reach.

"Extra! Extra! Another hero who slaughtered the Mongar Orcs has emerged!"

The newspapers, filled with illustrations based on descriptions, featured the hottest topic of the time—the news from the Great Wall.

Solon, second son of Count Felice, slaughters fifty Mongar Orcs singlehandedly! Avenge his late brother, Sir Allen, who fell at the Wall.

Archbishop Teresia personally cares for injured soldiers at the Wall!

The Empire’s industrial capacity astounds the continent! Made possible by none other than the Bishop Company!

The newspaper went to great lengths to glorify individuals from the Noble Assembly and the Church while subtly promoting the Bishop Company.

The fierce battles against the Mongar demand more Sword Masters! Where is Havana, the Empire’s other Sword Master?

At last! Grand Duke Doom defeats Ska, the Mongar Orc Chieftain! Rumor has it Ska was already in tatters after fighting Imperial knights, making Doom’s execution relatively effortless.

On the other hand, figures associated with the Reformist faction were either subtly undermined or openly criticized.

The sharpest criticism was directed at Marchioness Havana, with scathing remarks about her absence during the war.

"The war is over, truly over."

Entir sat in a luxurious office, a sly grin spreading across his face as he perused the Bishop Times.

‘Let’s see... I have a dinner meeting with Count Felice later, don’t I? And Solon is supposed to attend as well. Better prepare some cash.’

Closing the newspaper, he pulled a wallet from his coat and began counting bills.

‘This should be enough to fully bring Count Felice over to my side.’

Each note was intricately designed, crisp, and beautiful—the paper currency known as Lenhua, issued exclusively in Renslet.

"Power comes from the purse."

Nobles needed money to uphold their dignity. Clergy needed it to spread their faith.

Knights needed it to eat well and wield fine weapons, and mages, naturally, required vast sums for their craft.

Entir had no belief in sayings like “power comes from the tip of the sword” or “the pen is mightier than the sword.” To him, power was money.