Chapter 13
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Securing the Budget Democratically
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The next morning.
I stretched refreshingly and stepped out of my room. Having slept in a soft bed made my condition top-notch.
The corridor leading to the Emperor's office felt 180 degrees different from yesterday.
"Out of the way! Where are the Finance Ministry documents?!"
"Has the wall repair estimate come in yet? Bring it now!"
The hallway, which had been empty as a ghost town without even a rat yesterday, was now as noisy as a marketplace. My advice to get to work must have worked wonders, because officials were dashing around screaming, arms laden with towering stacks of documents.
"Ah, ugh! Y-You've risen, Hero?"
"Clear the path!"
The servants and officials who spotted me parted like the Red Sea to either side of the corridor, bowing at ninety-degree angles.
These same guys who had looked at me yesterday like I was a monster or a black mage were now gazing at me with the fervent eyes of cultists welcoming their savior.
Sly bastards.
I muttered that inwardly as I strolled leisurely through their midst. In a world where power was authority, they sure switched sides fast.
I stopped in front of the Emperor's office.
Knock? That's for polite folk. Without hesitation, I booted the door open with my military boot.
Bam! The door flew open roughly.
"Hey, Friedrich. You still alive?"
The scene inside the office was a sight to behold.
"Ughhh... S-Save me..."
The Emperor Friedrich was at his desk... or rather, slumped over it like melting wax.
His ornate imperial robes were long since crumpled, dark circles sagging down to his jawline. Ink smeared his hands thickly, and dried drool crusted the corner of his mouth.
And beside him, on the desk, lay a single red sword.
The Demon Sword Levatein.
"Master!!"
"Eek...!"
The Emperor flinched reflexively at the sword's voice, shrinking like a startled turtle. His eyes brimmed with terror from the ordeal.
Yesterday, I'd instructed the Demon Sword to raise hell if this guy set down his pen or dozed off for over a minute.
"Good work. Back in your sheath and rest."
"Tch, I wanted to torment him more...!!"
Clang.
The sword flew back into its sheath at my waist on its own. Only then did the oppressive killing intent filling the office dissipate.
"Huuuuh..."
As soon as the pressure lifted, the Emperor collapsed face-first onto the desk.
"This is torture! I am the Sun of the Empire! How could you deny me even a sip of water all night...!"
"Shut it. The sun burns twenty-four-seven. Ever seen it wink out?"
I ignored his whining and approached the desk. Stacks of documents stamped with approval seals towered like monuments.
[Rebel Army Roster]
[Emergency Budget for Wall Repairs]
[Special Food Rationing Order]
[Corrupt Nobles Investigation]
More than I expected?
I picked up one document and skimmed it. The handwriting was a scrawl, but the content was passable.
"Oh, not bad? Why didn't you do this from the start? Your head's not just for show after all. Bloodlines don't lie, huh?"
"Th-that sword...! That sword kept whispering in my ear to kill me, to sever my head! How could I not work?!"
The Emperor pounded the desk in indignation.
"Hallucinations! The moment I dropped the pen, I felt my head would roll!"
I chuckled and neatly tapped the document pile straight.
"Yeah, yeah. Good job. Still miles from making up for ruining the country all these years, though."
"Can I sleep now? I miss my bed..."
The Emperor gazed up at me with pleading eyes. But I just smiled and shook my head.
"What're you talking about? This was just yesterday's backlog."
I pulled a fresh stack from inside my coat and thumped it onto the desk.
"This is today's workload."
"......"
The Emperor's eyes went blank. His soul looked ready to flee his mouth.
"Blacksmith subsidies and mercenary hiring budgets. Plus summons for the provincial lords. Do this much, then sleep."
"M-Mercy! This is treason! Emperor abuse!"
"Abuse my ass. Hey, your ancestor Alexander rolled in the mud with me for three days straight on the battlefield, covered in blood. Be grateful you're working in a warm office on a cushy chair smelling ink."
"E-Even so, you have to let me sleep...!"
"Pick one. Keep scribbling? Or head to the front lines with me like Alexander to bash beasts? My sword's been bored lately."
The sheath glowed red, and the Emperor gasped, snatching up his pen again.
"I-I'll sign! Ink! Where's the quill?!"
The Emperor dove into the papers like a madman. Quick learner.
"Keep it up."
I patted his head fondly and left without looking back.
I heard mutters of "That's a devil" behind me, but I brushed it off. Felt like a compliment.
Imperial Palace Grand Conference Hall.
Five hundred years ago, this glorious hall decided the continent's fate, but now its splendor had faded badly.
Portraits of past Emperors on the walls were neglected and discolored; the chandelier overhead had missing gems like a gap-toothed grin.
Around that worn round table sat the surviving high nobles and imperial kin. Nowhere in sight when rebels stormed in, but ghosts at the first whiff of stability—like bats.
Creeeak.
The rusty hinges groaned as the door opened. As I stepped in, the room fell silent like ice water dumped over it.
Dozens of eyes stabbed at me. Awe, fear, doubt, greed. Sticky gazes thick with emotions.
In the center stood Princess Elicia von Reinhardt, tense.
"You've arrived, Lord Kasian."
Elicia bowed, and the seated nobles jolted up. Some old ones trembled at rumors of the legend returned.
"Please, sit here."
"Nah."
I waved it off and bypassed the head seat, leaning against the darkest corner wall.
"I'm just observing. Handle the meeting yourselves."
"But the Empire's situation is dire. Without your persuasion, they won't comply."
Elicia trailed off awkwardly. She was right. Nobles stole glances at me, resenting a mere warrior in their sacred council.
Of course, ignoring that this "mere warrior" was one of the lunatics who'd breached the Demon King's castle and lopped off his head.
Their thoughts were obvious.
'Is that guy really the legendary hero?'
'Just a thug with some muscle?'
'What does a dumb swordsman know about politics? We'll sweet-talk him and seize control.'
I've grabbed silk-robed thieves like them by the collar countless times five centuries ago. I could smell it.
I crossed my arms against the wall and spoke.
"Go on. Don't mind me."
"......Pardon?"
"I said I'm not joining. Just watching. A ghost who should've stayed buried can't meddle in modern governance. Right? The young must forge their own future."
Some nobles brightened, relieved a warrior cared naught for politics.
"Then, if you'll excuse me."
One cleared his throat and stood. Finance Minister Duke Geller.
"To resolve the rebel crisis, we need vast funds. But with the treasury empty... we must reluctantly raise commoner taxes by thirty percent and freeze noble stipends for decorum..."
Predictable to a fault.
Even if the country burns, they guard their rice bowls. Same rotten noble mindset in this damn fantasy world, past or present.
I strode to the table, drew the Demon Sword, and slammed it into the center. Crimson-black demonic energy billowed like poison mist, blanketing the room instantly.
"......!"
Duke Geller's words cut off; blood drained from noble faces.
Leaning on the wall, I smiled sweetly.
"Continue. Fascinating proposal."
"Th-that is... L-Lord Kasian...?"
"Why stop? Squeeze the commoners dry? Ignore your hidden gold and private armies to rob daily laborers?"
"Nothing of the sort exists! We're pouring our houses' fortunes into the Empire! A misunderstanding!"
"None? Sure? Purer than nobles in the Empire's golden age? Even back then, 'broke' ones spilled gold bars from their vaults."
I flicked my fingers and continued.
"My sword detects lies. Roughly—it'll gut you to check for gold or loyalty."
"Eek!!"
Duke Geller shrieked and crumpled. I smirked.
"Got the vibe? Next agenda."
I even handed them topics.
"Rebel remnants, noble voluntary property donations for military expansion, private army conscription... Discuss democratically."
Silence reigned. Eyes darted, sweat poured. I clapped briskly at the frozen crowd.
"Start. No time."
Elicia stared blankly, then snapped to and declared firmly.
"The postwar recovery council begins now! Finance Minister, speak again. Is tax hikes truly the only way to refill the treasury?"
"No! I'll donate half my personal fortune! For the Empire's revival!"
"M-Me too!"
"I'll fold my private forces into the Imperial Guard!"
Loyalty pledges erupted everywhere.
A heartwarming, democratic scene.