Carrot and Stick
The Imperial Court of the Empire was thrown into chaos the moment the letter arrived from the South.
They already knew about the mysterious explosion at the gate linking the South and the West a few days earlier—how the gate had been reduced to rubble and the walls completely shattered. That much had been reported.
What they did not know was that open war had broken out between the two regions. Harth, who had intended to trample the West and monopolize every profit that land produced without sharing a single scrap with the center, had carefully concealed the fact that the South and West had already begun clashing by force.
And then, out of nowhere, a letter arrived. Not from the South—or rather, not from Harth, Archduke of the South—but from Isaac, the Chief Administrator overseeing the Western demi-humans.
“Isaac? Isn’t this the man we isolated in the West? How in the world did he send a letter under the South’s name?”
This was the same man the Emperor had cast into the remote West and stripped of every form of state support, all for the crime of daring to suggest that Eleanor—whom the Emperor treasured so dearly—should be cast aside.
When that same man somehow transformed the West into the Empire’s greatest boomtown, the Emperor had felt a twinge of regret. Yet he could never forgive the original sin of speaking against Eleanor, and since the taxes at least kept coming in regularly, he had simply chosen not to care.
Assuming there must have been some mistake, the Emperor unfolded the letter—and immediately went pale. He summoned his staff at once.
“C-Call an emergency council of the general staff! Now!”
In the hastily convened war council, those who read the letter’s contents could not hide their shock.
“W-What is this…? The West has occupied the South by force?”
“How is that even possible…? The West couldn’t possibly possess military power on that scale…”
“There has to be some mistake. Even if the West scraped together every soldier it has, they still couldn’t stand against the South’s two thousand Iron Vanguard. This has to be some cheap political stunt by that Isaac fellow…”
“But this is unmistakably the Archduke of the South’s personal seal. Harth would never sit idly by while Isaac used it, and the idea that he cooperated is even more absurd. The South and West have been locked in bitter conflict for years over the railway tolls—there’s no way the two regions suddenly joined hands…”
The Emperor, the general staff, and every high official of the Empire already knew that the South was illegally extorting tolls from the West. From the Empire’s perspective, however, the West was practically a foreign country.
And since Harth had been diligently sending a cut of those extorted profits as bribes, everyone had simply looked the other way.
“The real problem is this part. Not only has Isaac seized the title of Archduke of the South from Harth and begun calling himself Chief of both the West and the South—which is already an outrage—he now declares he will halt every single tribute the South has been sending to the center. Is that any way for a fellow subject of the Empire to speak?”
At the Emperor’s words, the staff let out angry sighs of disbelief.
“What I absolutely cannot overlook is that this Isaac bastard has dared to mention Eleanor again! ‘Eleanor has received countless luxury goods as gifts from the North, East, and South of the Empire, yet she has never once demonstrated value equal to what she takes. With this pattern repeating for years, the people’s livelihood across the entire Empire has fallen into ruin’… How dare he spout such nonsense!”
As the years passed and Eleanor came of age, the Emperor had begun to contemplate making her—a girl young enough to be his daughter—his Empress. Until now he had used her youth as a pretext to keep the many men who coveted her at bay.
Now that she was an adult, he could claim her openly and without shame. He had been carefully weighing the perfect moment to formally take her as Empress when Isaac, just as he had years ago, once again ruined everything. The Emperor’s fury was genuine.
“How dare he treat my Eleanor like some parasite! I thought a few years rotting in the West would teach him some sense, but the moment that Isaac dog gets a little money in his hands, he acts like nothing can touch him! I’ll lead the army myself this instant and—”
In that moment, Crown Prince Jerome—who had just heard his father call her “my Eleanor”—entertained a very different thought.
Is Father finally preparing to take Eleanor as his wife? Absolutely not. If we simply punish Isaac the ordinary way and the matter ends there, Father will announce his marriage to Eleanor the moment this is over. Once that happens, there will be no stopping it. I need to get her away from the capital for a while…
By now, the imperial family and the entire central bureaucracy had been thoroughly bewitched by Eleanor, that woman of demonic allure. Keeping other men from snatching her away had become a higher priority in their hearts than the affairs of state—and the Crown Prince was no exception.
“Your Majesty, in this humble son’s opinion, the reason Isaac keeps spouting nonsense—both in the past and now—is that he has never once witnessed how capable and necessary Eleanor truly is. He was born and raised in the West and has never set foot in the capital, so he simply misunderstands the situation as the entire Empire piling gifts at her feet while she does nothing but take them.”
Outwardly, the Crown Prince spoke as though delivering a cold, rational assessment. Inwardly, his only goal was to prevent Eleanor from becoming his father’s wife.
“This time, why not send Eleanor to survey the situation in the South, while also drawing more of the West’s profits into the center? Her eloquence and natural charm are outstanding. With just a few instructions beforehand, she could wrap a man like Isaac around her finger in half a day. The Southern officials all support Eleanor as well, so issuing quiet directives through them would be simple.”
The staff, equally unwilling to see Eleanor become the Emperor’s wife, instantly grasped Jerome’s true intent and piled on their support.
“Your Majesty, His Highness the Crown Prince speaks with great wisdom.”
“Eleanor is highly capable. If we send her to assess the situation and report back in real time, it will be far easier for us to take appropriate measures.”
“The West has amassed wealth on a scale that cannot even be compared to the past. If Eleanor successfully coaxes Isaac into channeling large amounts of those interests to the center, the Imperial Household will grow far stronger.”
The Emperor hated the idea of sending his precious Eleanor all the way to the distant South. Yet he could find no more effective alternative, and he could not simply dismiss the Crown Prince and his staff. After long deliberation, he gave his answer.
“To prepare for any eventuality, I will assign the Rose Knights as Eleanor’s escort. No other companions will be permitted.”
Realizing the Emperor’s intent in specifically choosing the Rose Knights—an all-female order composed entirely of Sword Masters—as her escort, both the Crown Prince and the staff cursed him silently. Their chance to accompany Eleanor and earn her favor had just vanished.
Still, it was better than leaving her in the palace only for her to become the Emperor’s wife. Every head bowed as they answered.
“We shall obey Your Majesty’s decision.”
Meanwhile, the South was experiencing a shockwave of its own.
“An official notice! There’s an official notice! They’re lowering the tax rate!”
“What? Lowering the tax rate?”
A tax cut.
Those two words alone needed no further explanation. Southern citizens poured toward the public notice board in a massive throng, jostling to read the contents for themselves.
“Wait—stop shoving! I’ll read it out loud, so everyone just back off a little! ‘By the name of Isaac, current Chief Administrator of the Western demi-humans. Having received full authority over the governance of the South from the former Archduke of the South, Harth, as of this day, I hereby promulgate Southern Administrative Order No. 1. Effective immediately, all discrimination, hate speech, and acts of hatred against demi-humans within the South are strictly forbidden. Anyone who violates this—’”
That was as far as he got before the crowd erupted in frustration.
“Forget that part! Just read the tax cut!”
Unable to withstand the angry voices, the man skipped ahead to the section the citizens actually cared about.
Furthermore, the tax rate currently levied shall be reduced from the existing 40% to 20%. Temporary taxes collected on the extraction, production, import, and processing of various luxury goods—including Tsunami Stone—are hereby completely abolished. As of this day, the collection of any temporary tax related to luxury goods is clearly defined as illegal, and any lord who violates this shall be thoroughly dealt with by law. Citizens who discover acts of collecting unjust temporary taxes may immediately report them to the current Southern Chief, Isaac, or to the Southern Tax Department.
“Wooooaaaaah!”
The moment the details of the temporary tax abolition and tax rate reduction became clear, the citizens erupted in thunderous cheers.
From 40 percent to 20 percent.
Overnight, their taxes had been slashed in half, and the temporary taxes the Archduke of the South had casually imposed whenever he felt like it—all for the sake of luxury gifts—had been abolished by law.
The Southern citizens, who had been bent double under the weight of those burdens, suddenly felt an enormous weight lift from their chests. They began chanting Isaac’s name even as they hurled curses at Harth.
“Long live Lord Isaac! Long live!”
“My god—taxes cut in half! We’re saved! We’re actually saved! Long live Lord Isaac!”
“They’re not collecting the temporary taxes either! No more of that damned temporary tax every two months!”
“That son of a bitch Archduke—how much tax did he embezzle all this time?!”
“Harth, you miserable bastard—execute him right now!”
The instant they learned that Harth—who had squeezed them dry of enormous taxes and slapped on extra temporary levies whenever he needed gifts for Eleanor—had lost every scrap of power and fallen from grace, the citizens’ hatred burned white-hot.
The people of the South cheered wildly for the tax cuts Isaac had announced.
Unfortunately, the other fact he had declared—far more important in his eyes—was not being observed nearly as well.
“Lord Isaac, this morning on Lizbel Second Avenue, citizens threw stones at three beastfolk while shouting racial slurs. At Libera Square, both children and adults threw eggs at orcs and spat on them, and…”
Listening to Lumina’s report, Isaac let out a long sigh.
“Looks like the humans of the South only know how to take the benefits and have no idea about the obligations that come with them. When people don’t know something, teaching them is a leader’s job.”
The moment of punishment was about to descend upon citizens who had never properly read the obligations section of Isaac’s notice—who had fixated solely on the tax cut and decided their ship had finally come in.