Chapter 197 : Noble Power
Chapter 197: Noble Power
The two were somewhat troubled by the issue of the Fishmen, so they turned their gaze toward Administrator Piero, who was deep in thought.
“Administrator Piero, what do you think?” Bevan asked.
Piero glanced at him without answering, then rose to look at the map of York Territory hanging in the Senate chamber.
This map was a relatively new one, showing the expanded York Territory, which now included the original York lands, the Lundex Territory, and the domains of three barons.
Of course, an updated map was already being drawn.
While training troops, Puniel was also mapping that region.
By the time Puniel returned from his expedition, they would be able to replace the map once again.
Piero stared at the newly added Odo Village for a long while before speaking.
“Now that the nobles in the south have built a Great Wall, cutting off not only us but also themselves, the soldiers stationed at the southern border can be repositioned,” Piero said, tapping a spot south of Odo Village.
“Here, we can build a new fortress, permanently station one hundred elite warriors and a knight, and equip it with the monastery’s newly developed powerful crossbows and catapults to control the surrounding area.”
“And here, between Odo Village and the fortress, this area can be developed into a port. Our people can board ships, sail across the lake, and trade with the southern nobles.” Piero traced a line along the lake’s shore, skirting around the southern Great Wall to reach the southern nobles’ lands.
Bevan shook his head after hearing Piero’s words. “Leaving aside the fact that there are still piranhas in the lake, our small fishing boats can’t handle such a long voyage along the shore.”
“We are an inland territory, unlike the former Principality of Corlay, which could build large ships. And besides, there are still traces of Fishmen in the lake.”
Jeffrey, after hearing Bevan’s words, spoke up thoughtfully, “Lake Salvador is an inland lake, with no great waves like the sea. And now that the monastery has a Mechanical Discipline, if we request their help, we might not be able to match the shipbuilding standards of the Principality of Corlay, but building vessels capable of navigating Lake Salvador shouldn’t be a problem.”
Piero nodded, taking over the discussion. “As for the piranhas, merchants seeking greater profits must be willing to take some risks.”
“Alright, this is something we can consider doing—provided there are no Fishmen,” Bevan reminded him.
Piero returned to his seat and said, “The Fishmen are indeed tricky, but they are not Werewolves. They are a race capable of living under the Morning Star, with their own nation and civilization.”
“You want to negotiate with them?” Bevan laughed. “Even though the Rat Path is no longer in use, the information left before they departed clearly mentioned the madness of those Fishmen.”
“I doubt negotiations would work. Besides, the Church has designated all Dark Creatures as targets for extermination. Do you think the Church would allow us to negotiate with Fishmen? Don’t forget who put us in these Senate seats.”
Bevan shook his head, clearly not in favor of Piero’s idea.
“Just as Sir Bevan said, those Fishmen were strong enough to defeat the Principality of Corlay. And we are just a small viscountcy. Even if Sir Puniel’s matter goes smoothly, by the time it ends, our total population will only be a little over sixty thousand. We cannot withstand a war on a national scale,” Piero said, making Bevan fall silent.
The Senate was quiet for a moment before Jeffrey spoke. “No, I cannot agree to this. I am certain the bishop will never allow us to negotiate with the Fishmen.”
His tone was firm.
Piero and Bevan looked at Jeffrey.
“Look at the Holy Scriptures of the Church. Even if we think they are idealistic, once we learn to restrain our desires as the Church teaches, we can barely survive by following its rules,” Jeffrey said.
“And the Fishmen? Their only difference from other Dark Creatures is that they live in the deep sea. They still have a strict hierarchy—upper ranks oppress lower ranks through bloodline, an unbreakable barrier. Upper-ranked Fishmen even have reproductive isolation from lower-ranked ones.”
“We humans abandoned such primitive means of holding power long ago. Yes, even our current system can drive commoners to the brink, making them take up arms against nobles, but as Scholar Caleb of the monastery’s History Discipline has said, our human system is the most advanced among all races.”
“Scholar Caleb also said that under the Church’s control, the York Territory’s system is more advanced than noble systems elsewhere. We may be those who have lost some privileges, but compared to before, our lives are indeed more civilized. With the influence of the apprentices of the monastery, grassroots productivity is more prosperous, and this productivity has produced more strong, free warriors.”
“According to the calculations of Scholar Caleb and Scholar Rudolf, in just two years, excluding the original marquisate, the current York Territory will be able to muster over two thousand elite warriors. With the catapults and crossbow carts developed by Dean Oscar, even without using Holy Relics, this will be combat power equal to that of a border earl.”
“Since York Territory is now on the right path, the Church will never allow us to negotiate with the more primitive Fishmen.”
“The Fishmen cannot be swayed by the Holy Scriptures of the Church.”
Jeffrey’s tone was firm.
Bevan frowned. “Sir Jeffrey, you should attend fewer monastery lectures. You are a noble.”
Baron Jeffrey Sacker was a lord over a barony with nearly ten thousand people considered his private property—every blade of grass, every tree, every handful of soil belonged to him.
But now, Baron Jeffrey Sacker could only sit in the Senate, discussing how to set policies and make commoners accept them with those local gentry he could once crush with ease.
He had no knights, no warriors at his command.
The commoners who once had to kneel when he passed, forbidden even to look at him, now dared to secretly size up his attire.
Could this still be called a noble?
Bevan thought not.
He followed the Church’s rules only because he considered himself a prisoner of the Church, and obeying the rules was the only way to survive.
His work in the Senate for the Church was merely to make his life as a prisoner more comfortable.
He believed he had not forgotten the glory of his noble past, but seeing Jeffrey’s state, he felt the man had already been influenced by the monastery, so he offered a reminder.
At the side, Piero slightly lowered his head, allowing a faint smile before quickly resuming his neutral expression, merely watching the two converse.
“Of course I know I am a noble,” Jeffrey sighed. “That is why I am now acting in accordance with the code of conduct for nobles.”
“A noble is power—holders of power, makers of rules,” Bevan said, his voice rising slightly. “Those codes of conduct set by the apprentices are nothing more than protests against us…”
“Bevan, that noble code was approved by the bishop,” Jeffrey cut in directly, voicing the thing all three had guessed but none had dared say outright.
“…” Bevan fell silent.
“Bevan, nobles are holders of power, but above a noble there are greater nobles, and above them grand dukes and kings,” Jeffrey said. “Power is endless, and nobles exist in layers.”
“The power a noble holds ultimately comes from the fact that a noble commands force—and that force rises from the bottom up.”
“Look at Puniel. He is comparable to a knight, already powerful enough, but when Dark Creatures attacked his lands, he still had to gather his knights and warriors to fight them. He still needed food and equipment produced by commoners to defend his territory and wealth.”
“This, at its core, is a transaction, Bevan. Commoners give their right to command to us nobles, and nobles use that power to protect them, to keep them alive.”
“In the past, after nobles gained this bottom-up power, they wielded it from the top down, breaking the balance of the transaction.”
“In the Church’s words, our greed and desire pressed down on the commoners’ chips, increasing their burden, while we nobles were lifted high by these commoners who bore our greed.”
“Now, with the Church removing greed, the balance of this transaction is revealed. As nobles, we should fulfill our part of it.”
Jeffrey’s voice slowly faded.
Bevan’s brows furrowed. “The bloodline of nobles is noble. It is difficult for us barons to produce four blood heirs—that is already the limit. But because of this, our heirs, whether male or female, are excellent—far superior to commoners.”
“And the commoners? Given their living conditions, even an elderly couple near the end of their lives can produce three to five children. These children can survive even on grass roots, and most will grow to adulthood. But very few of them will be outstanding. The chance of them becoming so is even lower than the chance of a random conscripted militiaman becoming a knight.”
“Look at the local gentry knights—trace their lineage, and most of their ancestors were illegitimate children of some noble or from fallen noble houses. Merchants, free warriors, officials—trace them back and they too were often illegitimate children of nobles or knights.”
“Jeffrey, this is the nobility rooted deep in our bloodline, an insurmountable chasm commoners can never cross.”
“This is not power gained through a bottom-up transaction with commoners. It is power that flows in our veins from birth, granted by our noble bloodline.”
As Bevan spoke, he stood, pressing both hands on the table, looking down at Jeffrey.
Piero narrowed his eyes slightly, already planning to have his now-estranged family investigate their genealogy to see if, as Bevan said, he could trace some blood connection to nobility.