Chapter 24

The Imperial Prime Minister

If one were to ask whether there were still any good war plans left by the year 1064—

There were none that any strategist could put forth, not even Ning Luo.

Had it been the third or fourth year of the war, then any strategist could have confidently proposed a pile of plans. But now it was the thirty-fourth year of the war. Any military plan needed to take execution into account. The rotation system, for instance, wasn’t a new idea—others had thought of it before—but only Ning Luo, through sheer, unquestioned authority, had succeeded in implementing it.

The thirty-fourth year of war had already exhausted all the cards held by both the Albion Empire and the Kingdom of Fontaine.

Even Fontaine’s rapid maneuver tactics were now impossible to reproduce—their elite units and gryphon cavalry had all perished in Brittany. To forcibly reenact such maneuvers would only result in collapse.

War bonds had become the final measure.

But even Ning Luo didn’t know whether they would work.

At the root of it, the war had simply gone on for too long. And the empire’s credibility was no longer just "barely existent"—it could only be described as barely existent.

Back in the third year after the war had broken out—

Both Albion and Fontaine had taken loans from banks on the Apennine Peninsula. No one at the time could have predicted that the war would drag on for so long. When the time came, neither Albion nor Fontaine could repay those loans.

The direct result was the collapse of the Karst Bank, the Sardinia Bank, and the Bank of the See on the Apennine Peninsula.

By the tenth year of the war, there were no longer any banks willing to lend to Albion or Fontaine.

The only people still willing to loan them money were mad gamblers, essentially betting that Albion or Fontaine could win on the battlefield.

By the fifteenth year of war—

There were no organizations left willing to lend them money. Everyone understood that even if Albion or Fontaine won the war, they would still be unable to repay their debts.

So—

This might be the only thing worth feeling relieved about:

The empire’s chronic defaulting on debt had gone so long unnoticed—simply because no one had been willing to lend it money for quite some time.

Likewise—

War bonds weren’t something that could be easily implemented. They would shake the empire’s power structure from top to bottom.

The first to oppose them would be the Church. The Church would never agree to war bonds under any circumstances, because this would undermine the very foundation of its interpretive authority over scripture.

Next in line were the nobles who held land and the autonomous powers.

War bonds weren’t just about raising money—if that were all, the great nobles wouldn’t mind much. After all, the war had dragged on this long. But at its core, war bonds brought with them a deeper struggle over power.

For example—

Centralization of power.

The great nobles weren’t only concerned about implementing war bonds. What they truly considered was the massive internal impact on the empire once the war ended and those bonds had to be repaid.

The most immediate form of control that war bonds brought was the centralization of regional financial authority. It would inevitably strip local governments of their fiscal autonomy. War bonds had to be purchased through banks or other official financial institutions, and repayment would be determined solely by the central government. By adjusting taxes and policies, the central government would convert its own debt into regional debt.

Furthermore, what the war bonds promised as "interest" wasn’t just interest—everyone knew the empire might not be able to repay the money at all. So, what would be repaid might be something... else.

Through a whole series of such mechanisms, the empire, the provinces, and the people would be tightly bound together.

And the regions in between would, over time, inevitably be neglected.

……

...

In theory—

Ning Luo should have returned to the imperial capital to meet with the Prime Minister, Count Raxem, to discuss the specifics of the war bond implementation system.

But Ning Luo couldn’t leave—just as he had said to Isabella. His rank was growing higher by the day, his titles more numerous, and the weight of responsibility ever heavier.

He was the Director of the Military Dispatch Division, the Tyrant of Brittany, and bore full responsibility for every soldier under the Western Army Corps.

The Christmas of 1063 had been the empire’s bloodiest Christmas.

There were still countless soldiers who had stayed behind after the battles—Ning Luo had to stay with them.

And yet—

On January 15th, 1064.

In the Empire.

In Brittany.

At the Brittany Fortress.

Inside the Office of the Military Dispatch Division—

The Prime Minister of the Albion Empire, Count Robert Frederick Pe Raxem, arrived at the front lines to meet Ning Luo.

Count Raxem didn’t quite look like the leader of a vast empire. On the contrary, he appeared more like a kindly old gentleman. In the midst of a harsh war, where nearly everyone wore an expression of rage or exhaustion, Count Raxem seemed rather warm and approachable.

Only—

That image was completely inverted from the perspective of Brittany’s soldiers. Not a single one gave him a friendly look.

Of course—

Count Raxem had indeed come to see Ning Luo, but also to offer some words of comfort to the troops, to show his image as a "people-friendly" Prime Minister.

He approached Ning Luo wearing a long red robe.

"I’ve always been curious—what kind of man could possibly capture the heart of our little princess, Isabella? What you’ve done in Brittany has earned my admiration."

"Please get to the point, Your Excellency," Ning Luo replied bluntly.

Count Raxem looked helpless.

He had assumed that, at the very least, Ning Luo would show him some respect on Isabella’s account. But it turned out that in the Brittany Fortress, no one was willing to give him any face.

In fact, Count Raxem had judged correctly: if Isabella had been present, Ning Luo’s attitude would have been much more cordial. Unfortunately, she wasn’t.

Count Raxem sat down on the sofa.

"I’ll take care of the Church issue. But as for the nobles, I’m afraid that’s beyond me—I am one of them, after all."

"Just tell me what you need from me, Your Excellency."

Ning Luo spoke directly.

Even if Count Raxem appeared indecisive, like a kindly old gentleman, there was no way he would travel all the way to the Brittany Fortress merely to discuss this matter with Ning Luo. He had already made up his mind.

The Church issue was indeed more manageable now.

After all, even someone of Marshal Asfled’s stature had been compelled by Ning Luo to convert. The Imperial Army’s Grand Marshal—his weight alone was significant enough.

But Count Raxem didn’t respond to Ning Luo directly. Instead, he changed the subject.

"During the Brittany Campaign, you were called the Tyrant of Brittany. You killed far too many officers—most of whom were of noble birth. And I’m the one who’s been cleaning up after you."

It wasn’t just that Ning Luo had killed too many nobles—

He had also offended the entire upper echelons of the empire. His reforms to the logistics system and the introduction of audit mechanisms had caused the empire’s capitalists not only to suffer heavy financial losses but also to face the looming threat of being dragged before military tribunals.

Ning Luo furrowed his brow. He now had a clear idea of why Count Raxem had come.

"And what are you saying, exactly?"

Count Raxem leaned back on the sofa, crossed one leg over the other, and smiled gently.

"Keep killing them."