Chapter 236
Chapter 236
The royal court raises taxes on the nobility.
So what do the nobles do next?
"Raise taxes on the fief's people! Up to 70%!"
The nobles of the kingdom increased existing taxes—some nearly doubling them.
Naturally, the people could only groan in despair.
"What kind of new era is this?! The dawn of a new hell?!"
"They called him a tyrant—turns out he really is one."
"Damn it. These bastards, those bastards... nobles are all the same."
Though most nobles were infamous for their sluggish bureaucracy, in moments like these, they moved like lightning.
And the resentment reached King Logan's ears in full force.
"These lunatics... They raised taxes to 70% for 90% of the population?"
He had expected them to squeeze their subjects to compensate for their own losses.
But their actions surpassed even Logan's expectations.
Even the conscientious nobles, who had previously levied taxes at 30-40%, transformed into tyrants, wringing their people dry in the face of dwindling income.
'Well, I'm hardly in a position to criticize, since I caused this mess.'
He felt a pang of guilt, but—
"What should we do? Should we implement policies to placate public sentiment...?"
"No. There's no choice for now. We must focus on what needs to be done."
Despite Dwain's concerns, Logan remained resolute.
Setting aside worries about public opinion for the moment, he laid out his plan.
"If we promise that free knights and knights from regional fiefs will receive direct training and guidance from aura users—including myself—they'll flock to us. And since the king is the sovereign of all sovereigns, they won't be branded as traitors for switching allegiance."
Heinkel nodded in agreement and added his own thoughts.
"I concur with Your Majesty. But for soldier training, we'll need a more distinct approach."
"A distinct approach?"
"Given that we're mobilizing funds at the cost of public resentment—and with the support of Esperanza and MacLaine—we'll be investing far more than outsiders realize. In that case, we should raise the quality of training significantly to attract recruits."
"Raise the quality?"
"As Your Majesty said, knights will be drawn in by the promise of training from aura users, even with similar treatment as before. But soldiers are different. For them, immediate benefits matter more than future potential."
Everyone nodded in understanding.
"So you're suggesting higher monthly pay."
Dwain, ever sensitive to finances, frowned, but Heinkel nodded as if it were obvious.
"That goes without saying. We'll also need generous investment in training facilities and equipment. We must emphasize that recruits will focus solely on training for a full year without any other duties. And upon completion, they should be guaranteed a veteran soldier's rank in any fief."
"Recruiting soldiers like we're begging them to join... Hah, I've lived long enough to see everything."
Even the Sword Duke, who had been silent, spoke up at Heinkel's words.
Everyone listening had to admit the logic—except for one person.
"...This budget will hemorrhage like a waterfall. Heh-heh."
Dwain tugged at his hair in distress, but no one sympathized.
Only Logan offered a sliver of consolation.
"If we start with a target force of 50,000, just the equipment alone will cost ten million gold. We'll have to mobilize all magic workshops to produce weapons for the new soldiers first. That should cut costs a little, right?"
"We'll have to produce them at cost. Strictly. I'll discuss it with Hamar. Heh-heh."
Dwain's bloodshot eyes already radiated tension—
And then Heinkel dropped another bombshell that threatened to double the redness in those eyes.
"We should aim to train soldiers to at least the level of MacLaine's crossbow cavalry. That means rapid-fire crossbows and—"
"Impossible! Absolutely not! Procuring that many horses in such a short time is unthinkable! Even if we could, buying them would bankrupt us instantly—!"
"...Of course, I didn't mean that literally. I was referring to the training standard. Haha, I meant ensuring perfect crossbow marksmanship, weapon skills, and tactical drills."
"Haah... H-Heinkel, sir. Could you please clarify such things sooner? Huff, huff. Ahh... I thought my heart would stop."
Dwain clutched his chest, his face flushed as he gasped for air.
Seeing this, Heinkel decided to shelve his suggestion that at least 10% of elite soldiers should receive mounted training.
Then—
"MacLaine's veteran soldiers must serve as instructors for the royal demesne troops. Given the scale, we'll need at least 200 to 300."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
"If swordsmanship training is needed, we can assign knights from the Esperanza Order as well."
"...That might be excessive for soldier training, but it would certainly guarantee results."
"Still, it's daunting. Raising an elite force of 50,000 in just one year—one that surpasses all others."
"We have no choice. We must achieve maximum results in the shortest time. Isn't that right, Your Majesty?"
"Of course. Master, don't worry too much. The MacLaine knights will assist as well."
With that, it was decided that Esperanza and MacLaine knights would be mobilized for the new recruits' swordsmanship training.
A few days later—
Recruitment notices boasting unprecedented benefits were posted across the kingdom.
For knights, the conditions were generous—simply being a knight was enough.
For soldiers, the requirements were shockingly lenient—almost anyone could apply.
The announcements instantly became the hottest topic in the kingdom, spreading like wildfire.
And those rumors struck like arrows into the ears of young commoners—those most despairing over the tax hikes during harvest season.
To make matters worse—
The royal proclamation added fuel to the fire.
"If we keep farming, they'll just take everything anyway. Might as well enlist."
"Mother! They're accepting women too! With taxes this terrifying, we need one less mouth to feed at home!"
Lines of applicants formed—regardless of gender.
Starting with young commoners from the capital and central royal demesne, crowds soon gathered in Gran like storm clouds.
"Watch your step!"
"Stop pushing from behind!"
"Ow! Who elbowed me?!"
The crowd packed the capital's gates.
Gran, which had grown eerily quiet since the new dynasty's rise, now seethed with life again.
Meanwhile, those tasked with screening applicants under MacLaine's standards looked increasingly lifeless by the second.
"M-My lord... Why must we do this...?"
"...Just do as you're told. What choice do we have?"
Francisco Romero, former captain of the Royal Guard, turned ashen at the sight of the pitch-black sea of applicants.
Captured during the civil war after joining Esperanza's reinforcements, he had been released from prison—stripped of his title.
His subordinates, former Royal Guard knights, were now in limbo, awaiting assignments to the newly formed Royal Defense Corps.
And their first task was this.
He sighed but had no choice.
'If I don't handle this properly, I'll truly fall out of favor.'
Assigning a high-ranking knight like himself to such menial work was clearly a test of obedience.
If he resisted, he'd lose his head.
So Francisco gritted his teeth, accepted the applicants' documents, and stamped them.
"You—over to that barracks! Men go the other way! You idiot! Where the hell—?!"
Occasionally, he had to physically hurl some fool trying to sneak into the women's barracks to the correct side.
It was pure chaos.
Gnashing his teeth, he struggled to maintain order.
The recruitment period was set for one month—
But already, dark circles were forming under his eyes.
'They'll all be my subordinates later. Right, think of it that way.'
For now, he had to bow his head.
Survival demanded it.
Francisco Romero, pride abandoned, worked like a man possessed.
"How's the situation?"
"Applicants are still flooding in, and the numbers keep rising. At this rate, we'll hit 50,000 in half the time."
"That's a relief."
"Not entirely."
Logan sighed in relief, but Dwain wore a pained expression.
"...You said there are too many applicants?"
"Yes. Far more than expected. The problem is the cost of feeding and housing them—it's exceeding projections. This is not good! We've barely started collecting taxes!"
"...Is that so? Why are they flocking like this?"
"Because some tyrant's reckless policies made farming unsustainable!"
The finance minister's blunt words made the tyrant sweat.
"Well... Better too many than too few."
Logan averted his gaze, dodging accountability.
Dwain shot him a sidelong glance before sighing and pointing toward the applicant-filled grounds.
"And there's another problem."
"Another?"
"Isn't assigning the entire former Royal Guard to reception duties a waste of manpower?"
Logan replied coldly.
"Manpower is wasted when they're idle. What have those bastards done so far?"
Logan's impression of the Royal Guard was simple: incompetence, weakness, irrelevance.
The only thing memorable about them since the first civil war was—
"That may be true, but Count Francisco Romero is among them—a high-ranking knight."
"Hm? Ah... Right, the mustached one."
That was the only one.
And unfortunately for Francisco, Logan only remembered him now.
"Yes. Assigning a high-ranking or elite knight to such tasks could be seen as an insult."
The moment Dwain said that—
"You—where the hell are you going?! Men go the other way, you lunatic!"
A so-called "elite knight" leaped into action, maintaining order with fervor.
"...He seems to be doing well?"
"That... appears to be the case."
"Just leave him be."
"...Understood."
Perhaps unaware that his enthusiasm only invited more hardship, Francisco's plight evoked pity in Dwain.
The flood of applicants wasn't limited to soldiers.
The successive civil wars in recent years had left countless knights without lords. Though the last war ended quickly with few casualties, the noble houses backing the fallen king were ruined—leaving hundreds of knights homeless.
Many, bound by noble pride, couldn't stoop to mercenary work and lived as "free knights"—effectively unemployed. The royal army recruitment announcement was a godsend.
Training from aura users.
And royal direct command—highly tempting.
But it wasn't just them.
"The king is our baron's sovereign. Switching sides isn't betrayal."
Knights dissatisfied with their treatment in regional fiefs also turned their eyes to the Royal Defense Corps recruitment.
As a result, where 300 knight-level recruits were expected, over 540 applied.
The Sword Duke, reviewing their documents, gave a simple verdict.
"All accepted."
"Eh? But sir, some of them abandoned their lords—"
"Turn the unworthy into worthy men. Weed out the hopeless during training."
A chilling smile curled on the Sword Duke's lips as he took charge as chief instructor.
And no one reacted more sharply to the royal demesne's movements than the nobles.
Recruitment for the Royal Direct-Control Army—Answering Only to His Majesty the King!
[Knights]
Led and trained by the kingdom's transcendent warriors, including the Sword Duke! Loyal and skilled knights, step forward!
[Soldiers]
Recruiting youths aged 18-25, regardless of gender.
Upon completion, trainees will receive veteran soldier treatment in any fief after one year of dedicated training—free from other duties. Full lodging, equipment, and monthly pay equivalent to veteran soldiers elsewhere!
Open to applicants across the kingdom. Travel permitted by royal decree.
Landless refugees and slash-and-burn farmers also accepted—no background checks unless violent criminals.
But those around Logan couldn't take it lightly.
"The new dynasty has barely begun. Shouldn't we focus on placating public sentiment?"
"Squeezing an already suffering populace will cripple national productivity in the long run. Please reconsider, Your Majesty."
Heinkel and Dwain voiced their concerns in succession.
But Logan remained firm.
"We can't all die trying to appease public sentiment now. I understand your worries, but we must prioritize our primary goal. It won't last forever—just one year. One year is all we need."
His resolute tone drew simultaneous sighs.
They exchanged uneasy glances but could only smile wryly.
Everyone present had experienced Logan's stubbornness before—
No matter how unreasonable it seemed, Logan MacLaine's stubbornness always yielded results.
That experience made them follow this seemingly reckless policy.
"If that is Your Majesty's will, we should proceed with discussions on training and organizing the royal demesne forces. Those with suggestions, speak now."
At Heinkel's words, all eyes turned back to Logan.