Translator: CinderTL
Earl Edgar Cranston said with a heavy heart, "But what was the result? Giles, once loyal, raised an army against the Crown at the mere sight of a declaration of rebellion. He nearly reached Crystal Glare City itself. If not for the Royal Family's foresight, the Greedy Wolf Duke might be sitting on the throne today!"
Silence fell over the hall. Giles' rebellion was the most painful memory of the kingdom's recent years, nearly shaking the nation to its foundations.
The Earl raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the room. "Judging by the current situation, Paul Grayman is rapidly becoming a second Giles... no, he's surpassing Giles by far. He controls Alden, wielding the power of a Marquis over the Northwest Bay. Even His Majesty the King relies on him to fend off the orcs. Now, he's about to be entrusted with the entire northern territory's military conscription..."
At this point, the Earl let out a cold laugh. "A sword-bearing noble who has reached such heights is no longer a subject, but a potential challenger to the throne. Grayman shows no signs of rebellion, but power is like poison. The longer one wields it, the harder it becomes to let go. His Majesty the King is too young. He only sees Grayman standing before the orcs, failing to notice the shadow of the sword behind him, already silently pressing down on Aldor's crown."
Walsh McKie nodded in agreement. "The true threat to the Royal Family has never been the Abal from the Grassland, but those who are supposed to protect the crown."
"Grayman must be checked," Jassim said again, his voice low and resolute. "He can remain the shield of the North, but he must never become a sword pointed at the throne."
Yuriko leaned back in his chair. "But how do we dismantle his power? The Abal may have retreated to the Grassland, but they could return at any moment. If unrest erupts in the North, who will bear the responsibility?"
"We can leave him be for now," Earl Walsh McKie said slowly, raising his wine glass and taking a sip. "But we cannot allow him to grow stronger. Manpower is the key. Once he can recruit his own troops in the northeastern territories, that army will no longer be Aldor's army, but Paul Grayman's private army."
"Damn it!" Walsh said bitterly. "If Vibern weren't still entrenched in Paradise Basin, we could have freed up resources to deal with the North!"
Silence fell over the banquet hall. During Giles' rebellion years ago, Vibern had joined the fray. Though he hadn't actually fought many battles, he had seized Paradise Basin amid the chaos, turning it into a semi-independent territory.
Even today, long after Giles's downfall, Vibern still frolicked freely in his territory.
However, Paradise Basin's geography was relatively isolated, surrounded on all sides by treacherous mountain ranges. It was difficult for outside armies to enter and equally difficult for Vibern's forces to break out. Thus, despite his rebellion, Vibern posed only a limited threat to the kingdom's central authority.
Jassim nodded slowly. "We'll deal with Grayman after Vibern, but we can't let him continue to grow stronger! He can defend the borders, fight orcs, and command his existing troops, but he must never again be granted the authority to recruit soldiers."
"You all focus on Grayman's sword, but you've overlooked another, more insidious blade—Malon Ganard."
At that moment, a noble seated at the far end of the long table spoke slowly. He was Baron Derek Thorne, and he smoothed the gold chain across his chest as he continued calmly:
"This man has long served Paul Grayman, earning his complete trust. Yet the King has appointed him governor of the Westport Special District!"
With the full support of King Rodney XVIII, Malon had adapted the successful model of Northwest Bay, implementing new policies tailored to the region: reducing commercial taxes, protecting patents, and establishing workshops. Supported by technology transfers from Northwest Bay, various emerging industries flourished like spring bamboo shoots after a rain.
The Westport Special District had begun to contribute to the kingdom's treasury, becoming a significant source of revenue for the royal government—and that source was only growing larger.
Thinking of this, Baron Thorne felt a twinge of bitterness.
He let out a cold laugh. "The Westport of today is no longer the old port that once relied on fishing, salt, and transshipment. Brick and stone factories line the river valleys along the coast, their chimneys standing like sentinels, their machinery roaring. Merchant ships crowd the harbor. But—"
The baron's voice grew colder. "How could His Majesty the King continue to leave such a vital place under the control of an outsider?"
To an old-line Crystal Glare noble like Baron Thorne, Malon Ganard from the Northwest Bay was nothing more than an outsider.
He sneered. "Grayman wields the sword, Ganard holds the purse strings—both are His Majesty's arms. Are we, the nobles who have served the Royal Family for generations, now just ornamental figures?"
Silence fell over the hall.
Earl Walsh McKie frowned slightly, murmuring, "But Earl Ganard is undeniably talented. The success of Westport is plain for all to see..."
"Success?" Derek scoffed. "It's just a new way to amass wealth. True financial power should belong to the King's trusted advisors and the old noble families, not some upstart from the frontier."
As Baron Derek Thorne finished speaking, his words landed like a boulder dropped into a still lake, sending ripples of tension and resentment through the banquet hall.
The atmosphere instantly shifted from polite formality to heated indignation. Other nobles chimed in, their voices thick with discontent and resentment toward Malon Ganard and his policies in the Westport Special District.
"Exactly!" declared Everett Hall, a young noble whose family had controlled key mines south of the Royal Capital for generations. "Ever since Ganard implemented those so-called policies to promote industry and commerce, our family's mining business has been devastated. He lowered tariffs, attracting a flood of foreign merchants who undercut local mine owners' price advantage. Worse, he encouraged commoners to open their own workshops. These upstart parvenus don't play by the rules, recklessly slashing prices and stealing our orders."
Earl Aiden Fallenburgh slammed his wine glass onto the table with a dull thud. "That's right! Ganard, a noble himself, allows rootless, backgroundless commoners to establish factories. Do you know? In Westport now, any blacksmith can become a factory owner with dozens of workers, thanks to government loans and technical support!"
A noble involved in trade complained bitterly, "Ganard has slashed import duties on many goods, cutting into our family's profits. Meanwhile, foreign merchants are dumping their wares at even lower prices."
A noble from the textile industry grumbled, "We used to be free to copy any successful design, but now we're shackled by new laws."
But what truly infuriated the assembled nobles was the attitude of the newly rich commoners who had thrived under the new policies.
"Commoners will always be commoners," Baron Derek Thorne sneered. "They have no respect for tradition. A little money goes to their heads, and they forget their place!"
He continued, "They're aggressive in the marketplace, even daring to challenge our authority. Just last month, a commoner factory owner publicly rejected my offer of collaboration, claiming he could manage on his own. In the past, such a thing would have been unthinkable! A noble's partnership would have been considered the greatest honor!"
TL/N: The guys just minding his own business but since these guys can't adapt to the change they are butthurt about it. Even at his current stage, if Alden decided to establish an independent state, what could these guys even do against him?
(End of the Chapter)
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