A Requiem for the Beast (3)
People never realize their own world is the most superior and greatest until they experience a new one. The kingdom was like that.
Five hundred years ago, it had been more innovative and magnificent than any other nation. Yet over those five centuries, Nostrum had made no progress.
Ah, of course, there had been progress. In how to uphold even greater decorum and etiquette. In how to elevate noble authority. Tradition, discipline, propriety. While the Empire clashed endlessly with petty kingdoms and across the gorges, the kingdom merely maintained the status quo.
In a way, it was just like me before my regression. A man who did nothing. From the kingdom's perspective, one might call it preserving and upholding tradition well. But to the Empire, where wheeled machines outpaced and outdistanced horses, the kingdom was nothing more than a conservative nation trapped by its traditions.
It should have fallen long ago, yet the kingdom endured those five hundred years, clinging on stubbornly. At the forefront stood Gibraltar, backed by countless other heroes who saved the nation.
—To rule the kingdom, overwhelming it with military might alone won't suffice.
Hapsburg von Tersian, the emperor, had said that once.
—Politics, religion, diplomacy, science, culture, economy. We must press in on all fronts, comprehensively.
I watched for twenty years, thirty years... even until the day I died as an old man. As the kingdom gradually embraced imperial culture, it would one day become unable to live without the Empire's advanced civilization. That would be the moment the Empire annexed it, forging a unified empire.
—But 'love' ruined it all. Most gleefully so.
A plan spanning decades crumbled with a single "Open the gorge." Yet even after, the Empire steadily introduced its culture to the kingdom. I was among those who accepted those changes relatively quickly. But I merely enjoyed their conveniences, never striving to actively change others as some did.
—Grey Gibraltar. The kingdom must accept the Empire's ways. It's the only way to survive.
Back at the academy, the princess of a fallen nation knew the dangers of imperial culture better than anyone.
—No matter how much we hone our knights' martial arts and magic, the people will inevitably succumb to the Empire's conveniences and surrender to it.
And so it happened. Even she actively utilized imperial goods.
—Some say we must never let imperial culture into this land.
During academy days, many grew wary of the imperial artifacts brought by exchange students.
—But I am different. We must let it seep slowly into daily life, so everyone can accept it without shock.
Only Naria Geo Nostrum and I embraced imperial culture. But back then, I differed from her.
—Whether imperial culture comes or not, do we really need to control and regulate it?
—What?
—Capital infiltration, cultural subjugation, de facto colonization. Fine.
—A nation that deserved to fall finally did after five hundred years. And that's it.
That was my thinking then.
—What does the kingdom's fate matter to me? It doesn't affect me personally.
Back then, that felt right. 'Not now.' Saint Geo Nostrum's Nostrum could rot. But the Nostrum after him could not. Whether it fell and birthed some republic like those on the western continent, or became an imperial protectorate with Naria Geo Nostrum as governor of Nostrum Province.
'I can't just sit idle.'
That emperor—this Hapsburg von Tersian—must not be allowed.
Thus, his proposal as crown prince now—
"Accept it."
Accept, but control it.
"The Empire's currency."
Not merely because I'm more accustomed to thalers than gold.
Needing time to consider the crown prince's proposal, Carmen Queen requested a brief recess.
"The crown prince?"
"He's headed to the banquet hall. Probably mingling with the nobles."
Having left the reception room, the crown prince now roamed the count's estate like it was his own.
"Seirene Viscount will be glued to his side."
His aim: to familiarize himself with attendees through conversation.
"Good. Everyone out."
At Carmen's order to clear the room, the knights filed out. I moved to follow—
"You stay."
Carmen grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
Screeech.
"Haa... That madman...!"
As the door shut, Carmen downed a drink in one gulp, as if her throat burned.
"It's just you, me, and the grand duke here. No one from Morgania besides us."
The grand duke hadn't left either. As Carmen said, only we three remained.
"What's the intent behind accepting imperial currency?"
"Exactly as stated."
When the crown prince proposed it, I'd whispered softly into Carmen's ear.
"We accept the Empire's currency."
"If this is some ploy to paint me as a boy-led puppet for political optics..."
"Of course not."
"Then you don't grasp the dangers of adopting imperial currency? Must I school you in economics amid this crisis?"
"No. I understand perfectly. Capital infiltration. Loss of sovereignty. Erosion of economic independence."
"......"
"...It may seem that way, but do people switch currencies overnight? They're not heading to the Empire."
I drew a kingdom gold coin from my pocket.
"The kingdom has minted gold like this: 1 gold, 10 gold, 100 gold."
The coins varied in size, with different numbers stamped on the front.
"Fortunately, from 10,000 gold, they added the 'ten-thousand' unit. Quite large too. Without it, we'd see '10000' stamped on them."
"......"
"The highest denomination now is 100 million gold."
Diameter about 9 cm. I didn't have one, but the front boldly read '100 million.'
"Why did it come to this?"
"You're asking me?"
"It's crucial."
"...Because the reverse features Nostrum's great figures."
"Yes. Each honors ancestors who averted our ruin."
Currency serves economic exchange but also instills national pride.
"Here, on the 1 gold reverse, Nostrum's founder gazes sternly aside."
"...And in our era, the 100 million gold reverse... haa."
Carmen covered her face with her hand.
"No need to show it; I don't even want to imagine."
"Saint Geo Nostrum himself, thumbs up. Nude upper body, no less."
Saint Geo Nostrum. Upon ascending, he insisted on minting 100 million gold coins. Etched with his bare torso on the reverse.
Of course, everyday use topped at 100,000 gold. Above a million was symbolic; fewer than 300 of the 100 million existed.
'But its mere existence is humiliating.'
Imperial bankers would scoff—or keel over from rage. If killing them via hypertension and stress was the goal, the fool king's coin was tactically brilliant.
"Lady mother. Introducing imperial currency will make people use it. Very gradually."
"......"
"It's an unstoppable tide. Once trade with the Empire begins, we must accept its currency. Not barter—money."
"Grey Gibraltar."
Winchester Morgania called me gravely.
"Barter remains an option. Exchange goods of equivalent value."
"For three years, perhaps. But on-site, they'll desperately need currency."
"You truly want imperial currency as our currency? Sincerely? We lack authority to mint it."
"No mint needed. Secure overwhelming amounts of thalers. They're finite in circulation; hoard more than the Empire."
Their faces hardened.
"More than the imperial central bank holds, say."
"What madness is this?"
"Mad, but feasible."
I had a plan. Execution demanded many conditions.
"One major premise: not just maritime trade via Seirene, but tens of thousands—no, more—crossing daily between nations."
"...You're serious?"
Carmen shifted uncomfortably, face sour.
"It burdens the count too much. Such..."
"For peace. What better justification?"
To adopt imperial currency, hordes of its users must flood the kingdom.
"We'll open Gibraltar's gates."
"......"
"Forgot? Gibraltar's gates open with Gibraltar blood—or we can force closed what's already ajar. Magical doors."
Kept shut always. Or flung wide anytime.
"To block someone forcing it shut? At minimum, legendary dragon-tier."
Even a master gripping it would kneel before the kingdom's ancient magic, crushed in the seams.
"To sweep up imperial currency, leverage what the Empire lacks—unique to the kingdom."
"You already know the answer. Have the whole plan mapped. ...Fine, what?"
"Several options, but first—"
I whispered softly to them both.
"......"
Carmen shot up.
"Father."
"Your Majesty."
"Restrain yourself. Grey is thirteen."
Arms outstretched, she blocked Winchester Grand Duke, veins bulging on his forehead.
"Because he's thirteen, we must correct such insolence early."
Fuming with great wrath, he glared murderously.
"You're shoving the kingdom's legends and traditions into mere money games?"
The typical kingdom mindset.
"Before Gibraltar, you're Nostrum!"
"Yes. Born in Nostrum, but I serve no Saint Geo Nostrum."
"What...!"
"I'll spare no means or methods. In every sense."
I stood, stepping before Carmen.
"Grand duke, I request cooperation on a venture. Success means absorbing imperial thalers in one fell swoop—the ultimate resource."
"......"
"Grand duke, another analogy: thalers are imperial war materiel. Currency as weapon."
From invasion's lens, currency was armament.
"My mind holds a stratagem to make the enemy offer theirs willingly."
"......"
"Capturing enemy resources for greater stockpiles yields strategic superiority. Vital tactics."
"......You're waging war with money?"
"I'm no merchant, but ask any—they'd say the same."
Commerce was ever money's war.
"Allow imperial currency in Seirene Territory. To prove thalers' worth, the Empire will lavish goods on locals."
"Induce use of thalers over gold."
"Yes."
While the Empire funnels thalers into Seirene—
"Once thalers spread kingdom-wide, Gibraltar sweeps them up. Tests are underway."
"Tests...?"
"Applying Empire-familiar methods they lack."
I lightly touched my index finger to my lips.
"Gathering kids at the orphanage wasn't pure charity."
Meanwhile, in Gibraltar Margrave Territory. Angel's Strait Orphanage, "Angel's Gorge."
"Hm..."
"Worried about Grey?"
"I'm worried you followed. Ruby too."
Crimson Gibraltar, visiting the orphanage personally after ages, drew Charlotte Gibraltar, cradling a child, closer by the shoulder.
"Grey will manage. Look—thanks to his game, the kids are thrilled."
"Thrilled...?"
"Yes, absolutely."
Crimson eyed the lesson area, smiling wryly.
"Looks like a gambling den to me."
"Oh, gambling? Such frightening words. They're just betting..."
"Number three gets three Somnus flowers!!"
"Number four adds five more Somnus—!!"
Orphanage kids in the stands waved their Somnus flowers, cheering those lined at the wide dirt track.
"The imperial paper detailed it, so Grey knew just what to do."
"What's this game called? Or rather, before that—"
"Hey!! Number two!! I bet ten Somnus on you—!!"
Amid the din, Charlotte tried explaining with a smile, but Crimson gravely pointed at the track kids.
"Why's one riding another's back?"
Pairs: one as legs, the other piggybacked, flailing arms. One hand clutched a wooden shield, the other a cotton-stuffed baton.
"The rider's cavalryman, the base is horse?"
"Horse...?"
"Ah, no. Grey said it's a simple game for future knights dreaming of our kingdom's pride."
Eyes sparkling, Charlotte waved at the track kids.
"Cavalry race, Dragoons Race."
Nostrum Trivia: One Bite-Sized Fact.
"Your grace. Use our kingdom's pride, the dragoons."
The kingdom's mainstay: dragoons. Knights rode drakes, wyverns, griffons through the skies.
"Kids or adults, everyone goes mad for games. The thrill isn't the bet—it's the money... imperial thalers that differ."
Spoiler:
"Even the crown prince won't resist."
Dragoons Race, dragway—the first imperial culture I introduced to Gibraltar upon becoming margrave.
"In imperial terms, it's not gambling—it's 'sports.'"
The Empire had horse racing, not drag racing.
"Trust me?"
Once, briefly, amid coincidences—
"This isn't gambling."
Gibraltar's thaler reserves surpassed Tersian Empire's central bank.
"It's investment."