Chapter 91
Chapter 91
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: I Don't Know If This Seat Has Any Meaning
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The emperor, the princess, the archbishop, and the princes—including the empire's highest echelons—had all withdrawn like the ebbing tide. Thus, the one leading the discussion on the Citadel Republic's refugees became the empire's Finance Minister, Valens.
The emperor had deliberately entrusted this to him because he was the man who knew the Citadel Republic's delegates best. No one in the empire—at least—was as well-versed in the republic as this man, who had frequently interacted with their delegates for financial reasons.
"The empire is vast, but this capital island is narrow. The food flowing into the island isn't enough to feed all the refugees."
Finance Minister Valens spoke first. It was a polite refusal. But it was also a refusal that left room for negotiation. Money matters were like that.
They didn't divide neatly into acceptance or rejection; every aspect allowed for bargaining. Naturally, a lengthy debate ensued. Neither side was willing to yield easily.
"That point was agreed upon by writing off all the empire's bonds we hold, but..."
"Delegate Ranbolt, the situation has changed. We never imagined the refugees would number so many. There's no land to house them, no food to sustain them—nothing on this island. If grain prices skyrocket to feed your citizens, won't the damage fall entirely on our people?"
The finance minister, who had long resented these bondholders of the empire, seized the opportunity to press the republic's representatives.
He was already annoyed by how these people from a tiny nation strutted like lords just because they'd lent some money.
His eyes gleamed as he saw this situation as a chance to resolve fiscal issues. This man wasn't part of the emperor's faction, nor the temple's. In truth, he belonged to no prince or princess's camp.
Not because he was as powerless as Baron Eandrim, who had no faction to join—but because he was so competent that whichever faction took power would need to employ him.
His mentor was the former finance minister before the last one, Baron Toluyen, who had been ousted by Ardein. Inheriting his mentor's disposition, this finance minister was loyal not to any one person, but to the empire as a nation.
Unlike his mentor, who had somehow scraped together funds despite the bad news, Valens lacked such sentiment. He prioritized fiscal soundness above all; human lives and deaths were secondary. In his view, human lives weren't worth more than the national treasury.
"So let's settle it like this. Men for 10 gold. Women for 8 gold. Children for 2 gold."
The fact that he could say it right here in front of everyone proved he was a formidable figure.
"In exchange for the payment, we'll keep the gate open. If you can't pay in coin, goods are fine too. We'll even value jewels at full price without discount, considering the circumstances. Of course, you'll supply all the mana crystals needed to operate the gate."
"Highway robbery. No different from common bandits!"
Fierce backlash erupted. The delegates forgot their deference and vented their rage.
10 gold might conjure images of just ten coins, seeming trivial—but it wasn't.
This gold was a coin made by magically hardening pure gold, an enormous denomination. A single one could pay a laborer's monthly wage.
The delegates here might pair a few gold's worth of wine with dinner. So 10 gold? They could pay it feeling like they were giving alms.
But the Citadel Republic wasn't populated solely by the wealthy—what about everyone else?
"Then what about those who can't pay?"
"Sorry, but the empire isn't a charity. It's not a place where you dig dirt and get bread. That price for providing food, shelter, and clothing is extremely humane. We've already considered your plight as much as possible."
In truth, the finance minister wasn't tormenting the republic out of mere personal grudge. His mind was racing, on the verge of exploding.
The center of continental commerce and shipping. If the Citadel Republic collapsed, the ripples would affect the entire continent.
No merchant turns down profit, so others would eventually take over the republic's business. But until then, continental shipping would freeze solid—that much was certain.
Shipping disruptions meant skyrocketing prices. Not just luxuries, but essentials like food would be hit. Unlike rural areas, the capital—a metropolis—couldn't be self-sufficient in food. It absolutely relied on imports from outside.
With fixed supply inflows, a sudden demand surge would cause chaos anyone could predict.
In any case, to brace for the coming crisis, the finance minister wanted to fill the national coffers. Ideally with precious metals convertible to cash anytime.
This crisis was the Citadel Republic's doing, so naturally, they should foot the bill.
That way, he could buy the now-expensive food to distribute and bolster the empire's economic resilience against the downturn.
Thus, this stubborn man stiffened his neck, refusing compromise.
With the finance minister taking charge, the others said little. Of course, emotionally, the empire's people wanted to help the Citadel Republic's.
But they couldn't empty the national treasury for it, could they? The emperor, archbishop, prime minister, and key figures had all left for other meetings. Those remaining had no authority to interfere, so they left it to him and kept quiet.
"10 gold is too much. Let's say 4 for an adult male."
"10 gold. The price stands."
"How can you put a price on life? Let's compromise at 5 gold for us. You know how much 1 gold means to our citizens."
The finance minister declared he wouldn't entertain haggling.
"10 gold."
"Damn it, this is maddening. Not even 6 gold?"
"10 gold. Don't you have better things to do? Honestly, this negotiation isn't all that important."
He declared it with exasperation at their persistent attempts.
"Listen. You wealthy folk, including yourselves, left most assets beyond the gate anyway. If it's property you're abandoning, have anyone carry it over and pay the fee. We get the money, they survive, and you don't lose everything to the flames—win-win, no?"
"You're saying let paupers trample our homes and gardens, rifling through valuables?"
"You see your own people as paupers, yet ask us to take them in? Do you think the empire's a free soup kitchen? Have your citizens ever paid us a single tax? See, it's hardly excessive."
The finance minister clicked his tongue.
"And do you really think your homes are intact after you fled? The rioters have already looted any valuables left behind. It's abandoned wealth anyway. So really, delegates, your consent isn't even required."
The empire just needed to post the price and collect gate tolls. The refugees would scrape the money from the homes of those who'd fled with wealth.
Those who couldn't? They couldn't send soldiers to drag them back to die. The temple wouldn't stand for it.
"You won't even let the penniless through the gate?"
"We're not that heartless. We'll let them in on credit for now. But that debt will accrue interest, and if unpaid, they'll pay with labor."
"You're awfully bold declaring you'll enslave republic citizens."
The delegates trembled with fury, but none offered to empty their own pockets to cover their citizens' fees. After all, they needed money too to establish themselves in unfamiliar lands.
To weather local merchants' exclusion and reclaim their merchant lord status, they needed capital.
The republic delegates exchanged glances. 10 gold per person. An enormous sum, but not jaw-dropping. And as a life-price, surprisingly cheap.
They had no choice but to be grateful he hadn't demanded more.
"Fine. If it's money you want, we'll pay."
Delegate Motabil threw up his hands in surrender. But it came with conditions.
"In exchange, you treat us as paid up. No abusing our citizens—I trust that's guaranteed."
"As long as the money's paid, absolutely."
The finance minister nodded. Soon, both sides drafted the agreement. The republic's committee chair and the finance minister stamped their seals. Each kept a copy.
"Go approve the gate opening, summon the Military Minister for cooperation to prevent disturbances, prepare paper and pens for the registry, and ensure we collect exactly the fees I specified."
A finance ministry aide behind him nodded and dashed out. From now on, time was truly money. Saving more people meant more revenue.
The gate wasn't that large, so not everyone could evacuate before the volcano fully erupted.
They might not even save one in ten; the rest would be buried in ash. The finance minister sat back down. Despite the windfall, his worries deepened.
If you just watch while their house burns, yours might follow. If that figure in the north was truly stirring, this side needed equal preparation.
But how exactly? At least, that preparation wasn't something money could buy.
"I don't know if this seat I'm sitting in even has any meaning."
The finance minister let slip a bitter smile. If that situation came, no amount of funds he mustered could cope. Money, no matter how much, would be meaningless against him.
So he could only pray it never reached that point.
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