Chapter 61: Preparing for War
In truth, looking at how this world really worked, there wasn't a single noble who wouldn't be branded a heretic. Nobles were structurally compelled to exploit the common folk. Levying taxes was exploitation in itself.
But humans had drawn a line with laws. The standard tax rate in most territories was 50 percent—20 percent went to the central authority, and 30 percent sustained the domain. More benevolent lords might lower it to 40 percent. Anything beyond that was called outright exploitation, yet most lords collected extra under various pretexts. Even those who officially dropped to 40 percent and enjoyed imperial perks still raked in tolls, marriage taxes, resident fees, and more, pushing the effective rate over 50 percent.
Most imperial lords were probably guilty of "exploitation." And when war broke out, it only got worse.
"What's the current tax rate in the eastern provinces?"
"Still officially 40 percent, but they're adding another 20 percent under the pretext of domain defense funds."
"Does that include all the miscellaneous taxes?"
"Yes, my lord."
Amon answered crisply. I'd set it up that way myself, but it was brutally harsh. No one could endure endless taxation like that. It was no wonder peasant uprisings happened now and then.
By contrast, my territory? Fixed at 40 percent, with all miscellaneous taxes abolished. As a frontier zone—classified as high-risk—I'd gotten a five-year tax exemption after taking office. My actual rule hadn't even hit three years yet, so no imperial tribute at all. Current revenues were more than enough.
Most farmland was mine, and by leasing it out, the granaries overflowed with grain. No need to raise taxes even for war. The people already felt they had it good. After all, this was a domain run by Vivian Church's religious leader—no room for excessive levies.
"We need to paint those bastards as heretics, but some safety nets might be smart too."
"A measure to buy time, perhaps?"
I nodded at Kainus's question. After swallowing the east, I'd need time to reshape the state—about a year would do. If the church leadership shifted here, even better, though that'd take time too. War would be swift, but the ensuing political battles fierce.
Kainus snapped open his fan.
Whoosh!
"Hoho, I have a modest stratagem, my lord."
"Let's hear it."
"Well, you see..."
The Eastern Alliance nobles felt a growing crisis over Count Blaine's explosive growth, especially after absorbing the giantkin. His savage reputation was infamous—he ignored everyone around him. And now he was swelling his forces. Only a fool wouldn't see he was gearing for territorial war.
The lords of the fifteen eastern domains had gathered. It had been hard to arrange, but they'd already joined the alliance. Today was for real issues.
Alliance head Marquis Reston spoke first.
"He's assembled 100,000 troops. Pure giantkin warriors at that. A grave threat."
"100,000 giantkin warriors?! Can he even control them?"
"He made them, didn't he?"
"Imperial law caps counts at around 30,000."
"Frontiers are different. Double that legally."
"Even then, it's over 40,000."
"Count Aron registered 50,000, the rest as militia. Frontier perks—no limit on militia."
"The law's full of loopholes."
The nobles griped about imperial law's gaps. Frontier counts got privileges for handling barbarians and monsters, but sustaining 50,000 troops took insane wealth. Operating them risked economic collapse, so no one maxed out legally. The empire overlooked it as impractical—until Count Aron with his 100,000.
Only the emperor could field 100,000. Without direct domains and noble support, impossible.
Aron's intent was clear.
"He starts a war, switches to plunder economy—can sustain 100,000 short-term."
Marquis Reston's conclusion.
Chief military officer Count Luil backed him.
"Short-term only. War lasts three months max. Fail to plunder domains, they collapse."
"So hold out three months?"
"If war breaks out, yes."
"Hmph! Assuming war happens?"
"If he fails, he falls. Target might not be us."
"Precisely the east."
"Hmm."
Opinions split, but they couldn't ignore it. One mistake, lose everything. Proceed carefully.
"Bolster forces. Don't want to lose it all at once, right?"
"We're already taxing to the limit."
"Taxes? Let peasants starve a year—fine. Lose, domain gone."
"Understood."
Marquis Reston sketched concrete plans on the spot: mass troops on war, focus defense.
Dark Shadow leader Russell, under Amon, patrolled Marquis Reston's domain on a vital mission: secure heresy evidence. Amon had pledged to Count Aron; Dark Shadow now his too. Blaine would soon devour the east, form a kingdom—Dark Shadow its intel arm. This was the test.
"Urgh! Just a coin for charity, please!"
"Food, anything!"
Seemingly hale Russell drew crowds like clouds. Skeletal locals, now homeless. Streets crawled with them.
Bam!
"Kyaaak!"
Soldiers raided shops for supplies.
"Take that, our family starves!"
"Shut it! Lord's orders!"
"Aigoo, we're doomed!"
Witnessing the exploitation firsthand soured his mood. Requisitions sparked inflation; grain prices soared. Survival harder.
Russell entered a swept shop, proposed:
"Aigoo, tough break. I'm from Vivian Church, investigating. Taxes brutal lately—mind filing a petition?"
"Petition?"
"Church bans exploitation. Petition as evidence—forces a ban."
"Urk, we'll die."
Lord's fear blocked it. Expected. But prepared.
Russell offered glittering gold coins.
"Church aid. No backlash—swear on the gods. Just evidence."
Shopkeeper's eyes gleamed.
"Die one way or another..."
Better fed death. For justice? Worth it.
"Damn it—if it rights this world, fear death? Where to sign?"
"Here."
Russell pocketed it, ordered subordinates: gather more.
A week after war talks with retainers. Territory buzzed with prep. Giantkin trained, armed perfectly. Granaries full—ready to march anytime. Giantkin buzzed with war fever. Delay, risk mutiny. They'd sworn loyalty, but unrest trouble. Arming cost fortunes—waste if they trashed gear.
Returning Dark Shadow's Russell brought stacks of papers.
"My lord! Petitions gathered!"
"From each domain?"
"Yes! Thousands."
10,000 gold spent, but for the ploy—worth it.
Scanning petitions: mostly templated signatures, some raw pleas of starvation from brutal taxes.
Kainus read too, judged ripe.
"My lord! Decide now."
"Time's come."
"Strike fast, end in a month—empire can't react."
Textbook. Gods eager too. Smashing heretics profiting off folk? No god backed that. Crushing them? Huge gains.
"We march in two days!"