industrial lord

Chapter 760 In the Snow
Bestburgh was shrouded in a fierce snowstorm, with biting winds whipping snowflakes and lashing the city, which was shrouded in suffering.

In the center of the square, nearly a hundred naked corpses hung from a crude gallows, like a string of terrifying wind chimes, swaying and colliding stiffly in the howling cold wind.

They were once officials of various ranks, including tax collectors, judges, and sheriffs, sent by the Kingdom of Ast to represent the rule of Kazimir, along with their families. Now, stripped of their fine clothes, they are left to rot like discarded garbage, exposed to the elements.

An elderly farmer with white hair and beard, leaning on a cane, stood on a makeshift platform, his hunched body supported by only one leg.

His voice was hoarse and cracked as he used all his strength to tell the crowd gathered below the stage about his ordeal, snow pouring into his empty trouser legs.

“The tax collectors’ men, those jackals…” he gasped, each word dripping with anger, “broke into my hut and stole all the cheese from my house, my family’s winter food! They said it would be used to pay next year’s taxes.”

His chapped lips trembled as he continued to roar, "But...but only a month later, they came again, whipping me and dragging away my newborn calf, which couldn't even stand properly! They said the tax for the year after next...had to be paid in advance!"

His throat tightened, as if bound by an invisible rope, yet he persisted, his cloudy eyes burning with pain, and cried out, "Later, they stole my bulls, cows, the barley and oats that had just been harvested from the fields... even the earthenware jars where I stored my grain! They... have been collecting taxes for twenty years!"

The old man coughed violently, his body swaying so badly he could barely stand.

He gripped his cane tightly, his knuckles turning white, and with all his might let out a wail: "In the end... in the end they didn't even spare my only daughter... saying they wanted to sell her to the barbarians on the grasslands for money! I... I lunged to stop them, and they... they cut off my leg..."

He choked up, unable to speak any further, only a suppressed, beast-like wail remained.

The crowd below the stage fell silent for a moment, then erupted into low, suppressed sobs.

The old man's words were like a key, unlocking the box of suffering in everyone's hearts. More and more people remembered the similar atrocities they had suffered, and grief and indignation spread silently.

Next to step forward was a middle-aged man who was dressed in rags and looked emaciated.

His once neat clothes are now full of patches. Some people recognize him as the former owner of a fabric shop in the city, a once thriving business that mysteriously went out of business two years ago.

“My son…” he began, his voice choked with suppressed emotion, “He…he just went out as usual, to the bakery to buy bread…”

He took a deep breath, as if he needed to use all his strength to continue: "On the way, he was arrested by those judges' lackeys, dragged away like livestock, and locked in a dark and hopeless prison."

“Judge…that devil!” Hatred blazed in the man’s eyes, but was quickly overwhelmed by a profound sense of powerlessness. “He insists that the bread my son bought was stolen—even…even if there are ten witnesses who can testify that he paid the full amount! He’s completely innocent!”

He finally said, trembling, "They threatened me... they wanted me to hand over all the fabric in the shop, not a single thread... otherwise... otherwise they would beat him to death in jail..."

His empty gaze swept across the audience, as if searching for a hope that had long since vanished.

A heart-wrenching sob suddenly erupted from the audience.

Another citizen who lost a loved one could no longer suppress his grief and anger. His family members were also arrested and imprisoned. They paid money but only received a mangled corpse.

Inside the city lord's mansion not far away, a corner of the heavy curtains was lifted.

Catherine stood silently by the window, watching the cruel and chaotic scenes unfolding in the square with an expressionless face.

The raging wind and snow outside the window highlighted her icy face, and her deep blue eyes remained calm, like a frozen lake.

Not far behind her, on a soft carpet, Bell Burke was squatting in front of a chair, teasing a blond, blue-eyed boy who looked about a year old.

She gently rubbed the child's soft cheeks with her fingers, making the child giggle.

Bell Burke never expected that the rumor was actually true; someone really did have an illegitimate child with Frederick. It seemed quite amusing to joke about it.

Some things, even if the parties involved don't say them, can be seen from them.

Otherwise, there's no way to explain why Frederick would abandon his original mission and use the Duchy of Wessen's secret intelligence network to gather resources and help Catherine return to the Duchy of Ylgarod to seize her husband's position as Grand Duke.

Bell Burke picked up the child and weighed him in her arms, a playful smile playing on her lips.

She found this cursed land quite interesting. Because the living environment was too harsh, people had developed a deep-rooted belief that "betting on the strong," and they would gamble everything like gamblers.

Now, Grand Duke Jeargarod is weak and incompetent. Back then, when the Piast Kingdom's iron cavalry invaded the east, many territories surrendered almost without a fight. However, Kazimir's occupation of this land was merely to make up for his disastrous defeat at the Battle of the Elbe, treating it as a consolation prize to be taken at will.

Those local nobles and lords who had surrendered soon realized that they had made a huge mistake and suffered one after another. Their positions were replaced by the confidants sent by Piast, while the local common people were exploited to the point of having nothing left, struggling in the midst of exorbitant taxes and forced labor.

Now, with the Kingdom of Piaster marching westward, the local military forces are depleted, and the pent-up resentment of the people, accumulated over many years, is like a boiling volcano.

Catherine led her army into the city and swiftly executed the arrogant Piaster officials and their henchmen, washing away the old fears with nooses and swords. Naturally, she won the almost fanatical loyalty and support of these ravaged people.

At that moment, a servant quietly approached the door, bowed his head, and whispered, "Madam, the guests have all arrived and are waiting in the living room."

Catherine's gaze swept over the indignant crowd in the square one last time. She nodded slightly, drew the curtains, and the light in the room suddenly dimmed.

She turned sharply, the hem of her black military uniform tracing a cold, hard arc, as she left the dim light by the window that reflected the human tragedy.

In the magnificent living room of the city lord's mansion, the fireplace was ablaze with flames, yet it could not dispel the tension and chill that permeated the air.

The local gentry who had been invited—a few wealthy merchants, landowners with large tracts of land, and a few old-fashioned country gentlemen who still held considerable prestige—sat nervously in their luxurious velvet chairs, exchanging bewildered glances.

No one knew the true purpose of the summons by the newly arrived and ruthless Lady Catherine.

The thought that they were about to be forced to pay an astonishing sum of "funding" like the Piastres, or that they had other motives, made them extremely uneasy.

As early as the beginning of autumn, in order to cope with the exploitation by the previous rulers, they had already "voluntarily donated" a round of property. Now they are all severely weakened, and even the landlords have no surplus grain.

The heavy wooden door was pushed open silently.

Catherine, dressed in a well-tailored black military uniform with a slender sword inlaid with sapphires at her waist, walked steadily into the hall.

She carried the chill of the outside air with her, and her gaze was as sharp as a hawk's.

The crowd hurriedly stood up, took off their hats, and bowed hastily in respect, their actions filled with awe and fear.

She walked straight to the head of the table and sat down, her cold gaze slowly sweeping over every face filled with unease and speculation.

The hall was completely silent, save for the crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace.

After a moment of silence, Catherine spoke clearly and solemnly, her voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable power: "Gentlemen, by offering your loyalty, I will grant you—freedom! And the right to share in power!"

At present, the only core strength she can rely on is the 500-man elite guard secretly funded and formed by Frederick, limited logistical supplies, her son with Frederick, and the title of Queen of the Duchy of Jerichod.

She must strictly follow the detailed advice in Frederick's letter and unite all forces that can be united.

This meant sharing power with merchants, factory owners, small landowners, and rich peasants who were marginalized in the old order, distributing fertile land confiscated from executioners to landless serfs who had nothing, thus rapidly cultivating a large, deeply rooted support base loyal only to her, Catherine.

However, these gentry, who were accustomed to the strict feudal order, could not understand what "gaining power" meant to them, who were not of noble birth, and could not imagine what an unprecedented situation would be if they were to participate in the wielding of power.

Next, Catherine announced a series of groundbreaking reforms: abolishing unreasonable old laws and establishing and improving new laws to protect basic rights; strictly protecting the inviolability of private property; vigorously encouraging the development of industry and commerce and reducing complicated industry restrictions; significantly reducing the heavy tax burden of the past; reforming the system of appointing officials, breaking the hereditary monopoly and introducing competency assessments; and setting out to form a parliament with representatives from all walks of life.

Each of these policies is impacting the existing foundations.

A suppressed commotion and whispers arose in the hall.

Many people have heard that the Duchy of Wesen rose rapidly in just a few years by relying on similar reforms, accumulating astonishing wealth and power.

Thinking of this, the fear in the eyes of some businessmen was gradually replaced by a light mixed with excitement and hope, as if they had finally glimpsed a possibility of prosperity in the thick darkness.

Catherine saw the excitement mixed with a hint of greed in their eyes and knew that the deal was done.

Meanwhile, Frederick issued his latest military order in the workshop of a steam bakery: "Destroy as much of the Piastricht army's manpower as possible."

(End of this chapter)