industrial lord

Chapter 769 Under Difficulty
In the summer city of Koren, the air conditioning was turned up to the maximum in the conference room of the royal palace, where the heavy oak doors were tightly closed, and a meeting of high-ranking court officials was being held.

His Majesty King Rudolf's prolonged absence has deprived all major decisions of their final decision-making core, forcing all matters to proceed cautiously and painstakingly among senior officials, with the vast majority relying on rummaging through old documents to find precedents.

“Welcome to this conference room, our new Minister of Agriculture.” Count Ranke, the Minister of the Interior, said with barely concealed weariness as he handed Theodor von Mainz a beautifully printed letter of appointment.

The appointment of court ministers has now become a quiet affair, with no longer the grand ceremonies of the past, complete only in this somber meeting room, where the transfer of power is carried out silently.

The previous Minister of Agriculture, Theodore's father, the esteemed Grand Duke Dahlberg of Mainz, retired completely after Frederick and Maria's marriage, handing over the responsibilities of the duchy and this honorary position, which was more symbolic than powerful, to his son.

A similar power shift was also quietly taking place in the Duchy of Bavaria, where the aging Grand Ludwig Wittelsbach had handed over the position of Minister of Foreign Affairs and Foreign Affairs of the Duchy of Bavaria to his successor, Rainer Wittelsbach.

Theodore accepted the gleaming letter of appointment, his gaze slowly sweeping over the sparse group of colleagues present, a familiar, perfectly measured, formulaic smile appearing on his face.

He knew perfectly well that traditional court meetings were mostly formalities, especially for the Minister of Agriculture, whose daily duties mainly involved consuming the tea and fine pastries provided by the royal family.

However, even while taking a break, there are still some important national affairs to attend to.

Reiner, who had just returned from a arduous mission to the Kingdom of Gaul, brought back news that shook the entire conference room: "His Majesty Louis has lost sensation on the left side of his body; the diagnosis is a blockage in a blood vessel in his brain."

Theodore put down his teacup and asked, "Is there a risk of a cure?"

This is also a concern for many people present.

“No.” Reiner’s answer was firm and left no room for illusion. “Dr. Frank led Wesson’s top medical team day and night to the scene at the urgent request of the Gallic royal family.”

"But as everyone knows, all the flying vehicles were in Hanma City at that time, and it was too late when they arrived."

"Dr. Frank said that His Majesty Louis suffered from a cerebral thrombosis. The golden time for rescue is four hours, and the silver time is within one day."

"It's all too late."

"Dr. Frank also said that these diseases are currently mainly protected by the God of Light. Even with timely medication, there is only a 20% chance of a cure. In many cases, they will be accompanied by varying degrees of sequelae, and very few people will even die."

Those in the conference room heard that since even Frederick's doctor said it was incurable, it meant that unless a miracle occurred, there was no hope of recovery.

At this moment, they must abandon their illusions and begin to seriously consider the upheaval and shock that the impending change of the Gallic throne would bring to the entire region.

Although the Union of the Rhine has a marriage alliance with the Gallic royal family, and Queen Antonia is still by the side of the ailing king to take care of him, the cold reality is that the power struggle between nations is ultimately dominated by naked self-interest.

Given the Rhine Alliance's current weakened state—empty treasury and lack of troops—it seems all they can do is passively cower, hold their breath, and pray they don't become easy prey in the eyes of others.

Count Rank sighed heavily, a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire kingdom.

He steered the conversation back to the more suffocating internal predicament, saying helplessly, "Our national treasury is almost completely empty, pensions are in serious arrears, and the shortage of personnel in the army is alarming. This year's revenue may not even be enough to pay the interest on those mountains of debt. The situation is extremely dangerous."

“There is one more thing,” he paused, his tone becoming more somber, “In addition, after the battle of Red Waterwheel Village, a large number of officials in the palace died on the battlefield, leaving serious vacancies and an urgent need to replenish manpower to keep the palace running.”

In previous years, these positions in the palace were divided among the court nobles, while a series of palace intrigues and family feuds took place.

But the devastating defeat at Hongshuiche Village was like a cold downpour, extinguishing the ambitions of countless people.

Court nobles who invested heavily in mercenaries in hopes of gaining military merit and fiefs suffered heavy losses, some even ending up penniless and destitute.

These spots, which were once fiercely contested, are now deserted and unwanted.

Theodore shook his head, a wry smile on his lips, and said, "Serving in the court these days is no longer as lucrative as it used to be; in fact, it's fraught with risks."

“Ambitious and capable young people have all turned their attention elsewhere and are less willing to come.” Count Pisto, the Minister of Military Affairs, nodded with a look of deep agreement and said in a deep voice, “Indeed.”

"There are more and more opportunities outside. Starting a factory, engaging in trade, or going overseas—aren't all of these more direct and rewarding than going through layers of infighting and hardship in the palace, where you might end up with nothing?"

One of his grandsons, who had no right to inherit the throne, was originally intended to be placed in a government position in the palace, but instead he went to the southern coast of the Inner Sea to join the United Fruit Company and is now a vice president.

Such cases are not uncommon; many of the sons of the court nobility who were not entitled to inherit the throne now follow Weisen.

A profound sense of powerlessness welled up within Ranke. Did he not want to increase salaries and benefits to attract talent? But the despairing emptiness of the national treasury prevented him from proposing any plan that would require even a single penny more in expenditure.

He glanced around at the equally worried faces around him, his voice tinged with a desperate hope: "So... regarding replenishing the national treasury, gentlemen, do you have any practical and feasible methods?"

The weighty question was posed, but he was met with an even deeper silence.

Everyone knows perfectly well that the root of the many enormous problems facing the Rhine Alliance ultimately points to the same cold, hard fact—lack of money.

In the oppressive silence, the same name inevitably surfaced in the minds of almost everyone.

"I'm afraid we'll have to discuss this with Weisen."

Theodore's statement was met with nods of approval from the crowd.

Ultimately, the half-day meeting, aside from consuming some tea and snacks, failed to achieve any substantial progress, leaving only deeper worries and a sense of powerlessness.

After the meeting, Count Shu Yun Stiga, his face as solemn as iron, strode forward and stopped Rank and Pistor, who were about to leave, dragging their weary bodies.

He deliberately lowered his voice to ensure that his words circulated only among the three of them: "The situation cannot be delayed any longer, you two."

"The army does not have enough funding, and even basic maintenance is extremely difficult, let alone reconstruction and defense against foreign enemies."

"Please come to my humble abode for a chat. We must put aside our concerns and seriously discuss an issue."

The atmosphere in Count Shu Yun Stiga's study, filled with military documents and maps and dimly lit, was even more serious and tense than in the conference room.

"A special military tax will be levied on the major lords to establish a standing army that meets the standards of the Weisen Army and is under unified command."

After listening to Shu Yun Stiga's detailed, almost desperate proposal, Count Pistor clasped his hands tightly in front of him, his brow furrowed, and his expression unusually cautious. He did not immediately express his opinion.

He knew full well the breadth and depth of this move, which would inevitably touch the most sensitive nerve of the major lords—financial and military power. The resistance would be so great that it would stir up a storm far beyond imagination.

Count Rank fell into a long silence and deep thought.

He sat listlessly in his armchair, his gaze seemingly piercing through the heavy oak desk, his mind racing with a complex dilemma: forcibly imposing taxes and centralizing military power was undoubtedly a huge political gamble, and the slightest misstep could provoke a strong backlash from the lords, even shaking the foundations of the state and causing the alliance to disintegrate.

But given the current dire situation of a decadent king, an empty treasury, looming external threats, and constant internal turmoil, it seems there is no safer or more effective way out.

Time passed in a stifling silence. After a long while, he slowly raised his head, his tone extremely cautious, each word carefully considered: "Perhaps... we can try to release some tentative hints first, without saying it outright, just hinting, and see how everyone reacts."

“I think it’s possible,” Shu Yun Stiga nodded and said. “I’ll take care of it.”

Pisto felt that something was wrong.

(End of this chapter)