Volume 2 chapter 64
As the banquet drew to a close, Charlo found an excuse to slip away. Outside the hall, under the moonlight, his father had been waiting for him.
"Charlo, have you thought it through?"
Father and son stood facing each other in the hazy moonlight, isolated from the noise of the celebration.
"Does your New Order... walk hand in hand with demons?" Sachs asked, his eyes searching Charlo's face for answers.
"I haven't decided yet!" Charlo shook his head, his voice filled with frustration. "Perhaps the existence of nobles is inevitable... After all, supernatural power is so unreasonable! It naturally divides people into tiers! But..."
In this world, the existence of magic created an inherent biological caste system. The suppression of the weak by the strong wasn't just social; it was physical and absolute.
Take the Imperial Guard. The minimum requirement was the Fifth Rank. They were a praetorian elite.
Yet, they guarded the palace not to uphold justice or law, but simply to maintain order and prevent the "riffraff" from offending the dignitaries.
The authority of the Emperor and the nobles was not maintained by institutions or laws, but by their own violence. Institutions and laws existed merely to provide a polite veneer for their hegemony.
True, relying on the System's tech tree, Charlo could develop weapons capable of killing Saints or even Gods. A Star Destroyer didn't care about your cultivation level.
But this couldn't bridge the fundamental gap between supernaturals and ordinary people—an all-encompassing gap.
Physique, lifespan, strength, intelligence... in all these aspects, supernaturals held an overwhelming advantage. Even Ironwood's technological development relied on supernatural power to push it forward!
Completing the First Industrial Revolution and entering the Second in six years? Without mana and supernatural artisans, it would have been impossible.
So, if he relied on supernatural power to advance technology and overthrow the old system, what did that have to do with ordinary people?
They would still passively accept the rule of supernaturals. It would just be a different method of exploitation. Unless—he skipped straight to the end and established Communism!
Regrettably, that was impossible.
Even if the productive forces were sufficient, the mindset of the people hadn't caught up. Without ideological maturity, it would simply turn into supernaturals using convenient technology to exploit commoners more efficiently.
Therefore, he had to suppress the power of supernaturals as much as possible to ensure the rights of the commoners. But how?
If he suppressed them too loosely, the supernaturals would seize power.
If he suppressed them too tightly, he would drive away the few supernaturals he had, slowing Ironwood's development and leaving him vulnerable to the stranglehold of the Old Nobility.
It all circled back to the initial question—which path?
Revolution? Or Reform?
"Charlo! You are a Count now!" Sachs's voice was deep and grave. "You must decide soon!"
Charlo snapped out of his chaotic thoughts. Looking at his father's solemn face, he understood.
He was a Count now. He had entered the upper echelons of the Empire. He had to define his fundamental direction and his attitude toward his peers.
"Sigh..." Charlo rubbed his brow in exhaustion. "I know, Father... I will figure it out as soon as possible! Once I return, I will give you an answer!"
"Charlo, you have always been a smart child..." Sachs patted his shoulder. "I believe you will make the right choice! But, I have one more thing."
The old Count shifted his tone. "Those steel chariots in the footage... can you sell some to me?"
Charlo froze. Why bring this up now?
"Father! That..."
"Don't give me the excuses you fed Grand Duke Harold!" Sachs waved his hand dismissively. "Those things can't be as useless as you claimed, or they wouldn't be on the battlefield!"
No one knows a son like his father. Sachs was certain Charlo hadn't spoken a word of truth to Matthew. The performance of those weapons was likely double what Charlo admitted.
"Mm... true, they aren't quite as useless as I said..." Charlo rolled his eyes, calculating. "But if you really want to buy them... 500 Imperial Gold Coins per tank. Shells are 5 Silver Coins each. Personnel training is 3 Silver Coins per person per month. Maintenance is 1 Gold Coin per tank per month. How does that sound?"
"Wait, wait, wait..." Sachs listened to the list of fees, dumbfounded. "That expensive? You brat, just because your wings are hard doesn't mean you can fleece your own family!"
"Heh! Why do you think I built so few of them?" Charlo curled his lip. "You think it's expensive? I think I'm selling them cheap!"
"Do you know how many resources go into one tank? Do you know how long it takes to train a qualified crew? Honestly, Ironwood makes hundreds of gold coins in pure profit every month, yet I only built a dozen. Why do you think that is?"
Sachs froze. He did a quick mental calculation. The Iron Rose Family's monthly income was only a little over a hundred gold coins. He couldn't even afford one.
"Ah, this... never mind then!" Sachs sighed helplessly, abandoning the idea.
"Alright! Time to go!" Charlo shook his head and walked away.
While Charlo wasn't technically lying about the difficulty, he omitted the key point: Ironwood's army didn't need that many tanks yet! And the production cost of a mass-produced Type-2 Tank wasn't that exorbitant—it was only about a dozen gold coins. Furthermore, Ironwood's revenue was far more than "hundreds" of coins.
He gave numbers high enough to scare a Count but low enough not to sound like a Marquis's budget.
Of course, the bottom line remained—he would never sell Ironwood's active military tech.
The next day, Charlo bid farewell to his father and Uncle Charlie. He led his convoy out of the Capital, heading back to the Eastern Border.
Inside a magical projection room.
"Yes! Your Grace, he refused!"
Matthew reported respectfully to the projection of Grand Duke Harold.
"Is that so..." The middle-aged Grand Duke rubbed the armrest of his throne. "Let it be! I expected as much. A genius Count from the South, whose family sides with Brian... he was likely already in Brian's pocket. It wouldn't be easy to pull him over. No matter. He is ultimately just a Seventh-Ranker. He poses no threat to His Majesty's Grand Plan!"
"However..." Grand Duke Harold's tone sharpened as he looked at Matthew. "Are you certain those weapons are as useless as he claimed?"
"Based on the footage analysis, they are indeed not that useless!" Matthew replied. "The steel chariots were likely not moving at top speed, but we don't know their limit. However, the projectiles fired from the large tube are extremely fast—exceeding the flight speed of a Ninth-Ranker! Combined with the footage showing them deflecting magic arrows, their defense is at least Fourth-Rank. Overall, they are a decent substitute for a mid-rank knight charge."
"And against High-Rankers?" The Grand Duke asked.
"Minimal threat!" Matthew concluded. "As the footage showed, Count Ester retreated calmly. The chariots never managed to hit him. As long as a Seventh-Ranker isn't surrounded by dozens of them, they can escape with minor injuries. Also, judging by the explosions, the lethality isn't massive—much smaller than the explosions on the Demon Battlefield."
"So... nothing to worry about?" The Grand Duke smiled.
"No!" Matthew shook his head firmly. "My recommendation is... strengthen surveillance on Charlo. And impose strict monitoring on the import and export trade of Iron... no, Seres Territory!"
"Is that so?" The Grand Duke thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No need to worry! Folk will handle that. As for me, I only need to stick to His Majesty's plan!"
"How is the Hero doing in the Capital?"
"Very well! He is currently at Marquis Leslie's estate. Princess Evelyn is advancing the Erosion Process. Everything is proceeding smoothly!"
"Hahahaha! Excellent! Continue the surveillance!" The Grand Duke laughed with satisfaction. "It seems His Majesty's plan is nearing completion! After over a hundred years of decline, the Maurice Empire will finally rise again! Thanks to the grace of the Lord of Light! And thanks to the sacrifice of the Hero! Hahahaha..."
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