Chapter 1371: Chapter 91: Rebuilding the Nation

Old Majiya didn’t answer his son, nor did he leave the table.

“Oh ignorant people, let me tell you a story.”

The minstrel picked up his lute, playing and singing:

“Half a century ago, Emperor Richard Lietyang ruled the land, granted power by a bloodline tracing back hundreds of years to ancient deities.

“Yet two vipers coiled beneath the emperor’s feet, one viper said: ‘Your golden crown is bestowed by my master,’ the other viper said: ‘Your throne comes from the people’s consent.’

“The vipers bit at the emperor’s body, Richard courageously fought them, trampling the viper with the Holy Emblem underfoot, while the other viper bit Richard’s arm.

“Brave Richard, to avoid a poisoned death, heroically severed his arm, along with the viper, throwing them both into the mountains.”

“This!” The minstrel struck a heavy note, ending the chant crisply: “is the origin of the Alliance!”

After singing, before the patrons fully comprehended, he swiftly ducked down and vanished under the table from everyone’s view.

“Hey, hey.” The minstrel emerged from the other side of the table, hugging a table leg, asking the dumbstruck three from Vernge County: “Did you understand it?”

“Understand what?” Marcia blurted out.

“Oh, it seems you are unworthy of Muses’ favor.” The minstrel donned that sympathetic expression again, rapidly explaining: “To put it in a way you can comprehend, the basis of your Southland Alliance’s founding comes from the Revivalists fifty years ago, who all advocated for the Ancient Republic’s stuff. That’s why you are…”

“Wait.” Marcia shook her head confusedly: “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Do you know what the Revivalists are?” the minstrel asked.

“No idea.”

“Then do you know what the Ancient Republic is?” the minstrel asked again.

“No idea.”

“Then do you understand what ‘foundation of the nation’ means?”

Marcia shook her head like a bell.

The minstrel’s eyes finally showed agony, he moaned: “It’s the groundwork! The foundation! The pillar! The nation, government, parliament… are all built on it. Without it, everything else would come crashing down.”

Marcia hesitantly nodded, as if he understood, yet seemed not to.

“This ‘foundation of the nation,’ simply put, is one sentence.” The minstrel put away his careless smile and solemnly said, “All power comes from the people!”

Immediately, he mockingly added, “But it seems, that sentence was ultimately twisted into ‘All power comes from citizens.’

“‘Citizen’?” Marcia’s head felt more confused: “‘People’?”

“He’s a citizen,” the minstrel pointed at old Majiya, then at the timber merchant, “He’s a citizen too.”

“Are you saying that ‘citizen’ means ‘freeman’?” Marcia tentatively asked.

“Citizen, knight, propertied individuals, freemen… just different terms for essentially the same thing. People with political power are ‘citizens.'” The minstrel shrugged: “Now do you understand why those ‘riding above you’ wish to gather all the freemen from the Newly Reclaimed Land?”

Marcia looked at his expressionless father, then at the bewildered timber merchant, resignedly saying, “Please just treat me as the most foolish person and explain it again.”

“Acknowledging ignorance is the first step to acquiring knowledge.” The minstrel smiled gratifiedly: “Actually, the principle is simple, although the Newly Reclaimed Land is currently controlled by military leaders, irrespective of how many times ‘Republic’ has been declared, the national foundation remains unchanged. Gathering all the citizens of the Newly Reclaimed Land must naturally be for you to put the ‘stamp’ on the New Republic!”

The trio from Vernge County was rendered speechless.

Moments later, Mikhail was the first to speak. This time, his tone was much more respectful, and he asked worriedly: “If we put the ‘stamp,’ in the future… when they collapse, won’t the chancery at Kingsfort settle accounts with us?”

“Of course, they’ll settle accounts with you,” the minstrel said nonchalantly: “Without picking a few unlucky ones for execution, hanging them by the roadside for all to see, how else can a new ruler establish authority?”

The timber merchant’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

“But besides those particularly unfortunate, the rest just lose some money and nothing major happens.” The minstrel spread his hands: “After all, if the next ruler slaughters all of you, who will pay taxes, who will stage his showcase, who will maintain his rule?”

The timber merchant still hesitated, fiddling with his fingers, eyes darting around, deep in thought.

“Don’t get any bad ideas.” The minstrel mischievously reminded the timber merchant, “In my opinion, compared to being settled with later, getting past the current situation is the most crucial. Consider, if someone refuses to stamp, what would happen?”

The timber merchant subconsciously swallowed.

“You see, even you know that your arm can’t twist someone else’s thigh.” The minstrel clapped his hands and laughed: “Why then are you unwilling to honestly yield?”

“But, I heard…” the timber merchant stammered: “Blood Wolf isn’t a good person…”

Hearing this, the minstrel’s smile widened, he stood up, throwing an arm around the timber merchant’s shoulders, earnestly asking: “Dear Mikhail, ‘Blood Wolf’ isn’t a good person, are you a good person?”