Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 294

Chapter 294: Interesting development(1) Chapter 294: Interesting development(1) Alpheo sipped leisurely on his cup of warm honeyed milk, savoring the soothing sweetness that had long become his customary morning indulgence.

The rich, creamy warmth rolled over his tongue, chasing away the lingering haze of sleep and replacing it with a quiet clarity.

He missed coffee-missed it terribly, in fact.

The rich, bold aroma, the comforting warmth, and the invigorating bite of the first sip had been a cherished part of his mornings once.

Yet, no matter how hard he tried to fill that void, it lingered like a stubborn ache.

Alpheo had spared no effort in his attempts to find even a trace of the plant that produced such beans , sending word to merchants, explorers, and herbalists far and wide.

He scoured the markets for any whispers of its existence, combed through ancient records for clues.

But despite his persistent efforts, his searches yielded nothing.His only far-thought idea on where he could find them , was in the western continent of Azania; after all coffee beans were discovered in Ethiopia and the area that shared such a climate was that of the west.

With regret on the back of his mind, he settled deeper into his chair, his thoughts meandered to the previous night’s feast.

By all accounts, it had been a success, a rare moment of triumph in the turbulent waters of politics.

A fair portion of the nobility had shown signs of thawing toward the crown, their once-stony expressions softening into smiles and convivial gestures. Progress, he mused.

It was overdue, but it’s progress nonetheless.

The marriage itself, though…

well, that was another matter entirely.

Alpheo’s lips quirked into a small, sardonic smile as he took another sip of his milk.

The ceremony had been splendid enough, no less than what was expected of a royal sponsored event, but the festivities that followed had been far from perfect.

The feast had been halted at barely half its usual duration, a decision he had reluctantly made.

He could still picture Egil, slumped over the table, glassy-eyed and incoherent, dangerously close to passing out in the midst of his own wedding celebration.

Alpheo had known then that if the revelry were allowed to continue unchecked, Egil would have been in no condition to fulfill his duties as a husband.

It’s one thing to marry a bride; it’s another to actually consummate the marriage, Alpheo lampooned, setting down his cup.

It had been an ungraceful end to an otherwise pleasant evening, but pragmatism had demanded his intervention.

Better to curtail the celebration than risk the embarrassment.

Alpheo rubbed his temples and sighed, the weight of fatigue pressing heavily on him as he reviewed the stack of reports that had come in overnight.

Though the warm milk in his cup had taken the edge off the morning chill, it did little to invigorate him as his eyes scanned the lines of meticulously written updates.

The first report detailed the progress of Pontius.

Alpheo’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he read of the success achieved within a mere month.

Pontius and his team had not only managed to dig the canals leading from the river to the lower elevation , but they had done so ahead of schedule despite the challenging terrain and unpredictable weather.

The report went on to outline the next steps of the ambitious project.

Having completed the section connecting the river to the intermediary lowlands, the focus would now shift to carving a path from the capital down to the same lower height, which the man hypothesized to require two months.

The second report was more concise, a straightforward account of the kingdom’s industrial production.

Alpheo skimmed through it, noting the key figures summarized in precise handwriting.

Cider production was up by 12%, buoyed by favorable harvests and a growing domestic demand for the beverage.

Soap production mirrored this success, with output also increasing by 15%, caused by the rising reputation of their finely crafted goods.  There was even a pang of dissatisfaction inside Alpheo, for in the last months many imperial houses had sent envoys to his wife asking to buy such products, which would have certainly at least increased by half their income; unfortunately, that would have meant going against the wishes of the imperial house and the treaty signed with them , something that Alpheo was still not ready to face given just how dependent he was on the imperial iron seing by the regent.

However, the report on paper production painted a different picture.

It remained stagnant, with no growth in output.

The explanation was simple yet frustrating-despite the improved quality and reduced costs of their paper, the Empire remained their primary customer, and it appeared their warehouses were already well-stocked with surplus supplies.

With no significant orders or new markets to drive demand, increasing production would be a fruitless and costly endeavor.

Alpheo set aside the report on industry and reached for the second document, his demeanor shifting as he did so.

The warmth of his honeyed milk was forgotten as he placed the cup down with deliberate care, its sweetness unable to compete with the gravity of the parchment in his hands.

This one bore the seal of his agents in Herculia.He straightened in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he continued reading.

————–I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits.

Allow me to offer my humble greetings and express my continued loyalty to your cause.

There has been much activity here in Herculia of late, and I felt it my duty to report what I have observed.

The most pressing issue being that the recruitment or more like enlistments campaigns are being held almost daily, with young men and even some older ones being pressed into service.

It has caused unease among the people, though none dare to speak it aloud.

Taxes, too, have been raised significantly.

For my own part, I must confess that it has been a struggle.

My shop is not doing well, and this increase only makes matters worse.

Forgive me if this appears as a complaint-it is not my intention to burden you with my troubles.————– Alpheo paused at this line, his fingers still on the edge of the parchment.

For a moment, he wondered if the man’s commentary was a subtle way of asking for financial support.  ”Perhapse I should send a bonus…” he muttered as he resumed reading the letter.

————I also noticed something peculiar: the number of carts with food leaving the city has greatly diminished.

This, along with the rumors floating among the common folk, led me to try piecing things together.

The noticeable decline in carts leaving the city suggests a significant reduction in the prince’s efforts to provide for the refugees.

This abrupt shift implies that something substantial must have occurred.

When considered alongside the intense push for recruitment, all signs point to a potential development of grave importance-most likely, a rebellion.

From everything I have seen and heard, I believe that the refugees scattered across the royal fief have reached their breaking point and risen in revolt.

The frantic recruitment efforts here suggest that the prince is scrambling to raise an army as swiftly as possible to respond.

These are merely conjectures, based on my limited observations and the whispers of others.

I am no soldier or statesman, only a humble merchant, and I cannot know for certain if my conclusions are correct.

I beg your pardon if I have overstepped my bounds in bringing these thoughts to you.

May your wisdom and strength guide us through these troubled times.

Yours in loyalty, ——— As Alpheo set the letter down on his desk, his gaze drifted upward to the ceiling in quiet contemplation.

His thoughts, however, were not preoccupied with calculating how to extract the most advantage from the information at hand-those conclusions had been drawn in mere moments.

When he had played the role of Genghis Khan across the lands of Herculia, he had already anticipated the possibility of this exact situation .

Instead, his mind lingered on just how unfortunate Lechlian’s predicament had become.

It was July now-one more month, and it would have been August.

By then, the prince could have scraped together a harvest sufficient to stave off the famine until the autumn grain came in.

Not from his own lands, of course-most of those had been razed to the ground thanks to a certain someone, but instead from the surrounding lords.

So close, Alpheo mused, almost feeling a pang of pity.

In just six months, he had utterly dismantled one of his rivals, leaving him teetering on the brink of collapse, he felt a kind of pride for that.

Now Lechlian would have no choice but to muster an army and crush the uprising of starving peasants with whatever meager resources he could scrape together.

The question, of course, was whether such an effort would succeed.  The key issue now was which vassals would respond to Lechlian’s call to arms.

Those farther from the crownlands might easily dismiss the summons, seeing no immediate threat to their lands.

But the lords closer to the conflict-those who risked their estates being pillaged by rampaging peasants-would be far more inclined to rally to the prince’s banner.

The outcome of this conflict would hinge on how many of them chose to answer the call.

It was always a funny thing to watch a political system fail, be it a democracy or an oligarchy, as many times the crushing of interest prevented outsiders to truly grasp the reason for their clashes and political failures.In Lechlian’s case, it was probably a long-standing dissatisfaction with their ambitious prince , whose wrong move to clash against Yarzat made them fall in the pit they currently reside in.

Normally, of course, a peasant army-starved, poorly equipped, and disorganized-would pose little threat to the charge of horses, with them breaking just at the sight.

Unfortunately for Lechlian, there was a single, devastating variable that could tip the scales: the cunning hand of a certain little fox…..