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Chapter 144: The First Tax Day
🕑 Added 2025-01-11 05:20:08 +0000 UTCCharlot Mecklenburg entrusted Louis Simy with fifty luxury items and Ross Bard with thirty-five, instructing them to convert the goods into cash. He further directed them to use the funds to hire a group of detectives and adventurers.
Now that Charlot’s battles in Silver Dove Castle had concluded, neither of them had managed to hire the detectives or adventurers, an omission that could not go unnoticed.
As for embezzling the funds, neither would dare attempt such a thing. Charlot’s unexpected survival in Silver Dove Castle, coupled with his promotion to a second-class civil servant at the thirty-second rank and his new status as a real authority within the city patrol guards and the knight order, made him a figure they could not afford to provoke. Even as a lower-tier noble, Charlot could easily crush two merchants.
The thirty-third rank, equivalent to a first-class chief clerk, represents the pinnacle for clerks but merely the starting point for civil servants. Chief clerks, as lower-tier nobles, might have a slight chance of receiving an administrative position managing concrete affairs. Civil servants, however, are guaranteed such a position, firmly entering the ranks of imperial administrators.
Louis Simy, the bolder of the two, eventually approached Charlot after leaving Silver Dove Castle. Speaking softly, he reported, “I purchased a detective agency for you. Their operations were struggling, but they have a full staff. I thought owning a detective agency would be more convenient than hiring outside detectives.”
“The procedures took quite a bit of time, which caused the delay.”
Charlot smiled faintly, accepting this "explanation." The luxury items he provided should have sufficed to acquire a mid-sized detective agency. However, acquiring one was no small task, and Louis Simy must have exhausted every resource at his disposal.
Charlot saw no need to treat merchants as friends. Nor did he feel betrayed by Louis Simy, as long as he recovered sufficient “profits.”
Ross Bard, on the other hand, wore a bitter expression. He had indeed weighed his options. Upon returning to Strasbourg and learning that Charlot had slain Jonan, the leader of the South Seraph resistance, outside Silver Dove Castle, Ross had assumed Charlot’s demise was imminent when South Seraph even sent a Saint rank to avenge Jonan. Therefore, he had chosen to do nothing.
When news arrived that Charlot had not only repeatedly defeated the South Seraph restorationists but had even "driven away" the Saint rank powerhouse, Ross Bard was struck by the realization that he had made a grave miscalculation.
Ross could not fathom how Charlot had managed to repel a Saint rank, but he understood one thing clearly: leaving Silver Dove Castle marked the demise of the Bard Commerce Guild.
Abandoning all his commercial partners, Ross liquidated all his family's assets in Strasbourg and sent his relatives to the Ingrima Empire with everything they could carry. He returned alone to face Charlot.
When Ross saw how easily Charlot forgave Louis Simy, he realized he had once again chosen poorly.
Charlot did not bother with Ross Bard. Instead, during the first break in their march, he summoned Belisa and her guards and spoke gently. “We are heading to the frontlines. However, Miss Belisa, you must report to the Duchess, so we must part ways here.”
Belisa hesitated. While she longed to follow Charlot to Interlaken, his words were reasonable. Ultimately, she nodded and said, “I leave the Duke in your hands.”
Charlot nodded in return. After sending Belisa off, he halted the march entirely to begin another round of reorganization.
This time, Charlot expanded his personal combat unit, including Dolores Soumet, Yellow Bear, and Dubin Alger, to five hundred soldiers. Meanwhile, the direct combat units led by Gwen and Bancroft remained at two hundred each. The Silver Dove Castle militia, who had been forcibly conscripted, were disbanded and integrated into the West Wind Knight Order.
The West Wind Knight Order swelled to a staggering thirteen thousand members. Although their quality was far below that of a regular knight order due to their complex composition, they had fought several battles and demonstrated a modicum of discipline.
With this force, Charlot marched toward Machubi.
As for Duke Joseph...
To hell with him.
...
Baron Feller took seven or eight days to recover from his exhaustion and despondency. His intricate schemes had secured him control of Silver Dove Castle, yet he reaped no rewards. The South Seraph forces had looted even the smallest valuables from the castle, leaving behind nothing of value.
The realization left him profoundly dejected. What ultimately revived him was the castle’s first tax day under his rule.
Charlot Mecklenburg had never collected taxes in Silver Dove Castle.
Baron Feller’s inaugural tax collection sparked widespread grievances, even leading to clashes with the local residents. However, protected by his personal knight order, the residents of Silver Dove Castle could only endure in silence.
After parading his authority throughout the castle in the afternoon, Baron Feller returned to his keep and couldn’t resist visiting his treasury. This room, once Baron Feller’s vault, was completely empty when he arrived—bereft of even a single mouse.
After passing through layer upon layer of guards, Baron Feller entered the vault, eager to count the day’s tax revenue. Yet, his eyes widened to an unprecedented degree as he saw nothing. Rubbing his eyes repeatedly, he still found the vault as empty as the day he had first arrived.
“Where are my gold écus? Where is the tax revenue? And my original savings?”
“My money…”
Baron Feller let out a shrill wail, resembling either a wounded stray dog or a feral cat denied its mate. His pitiful cry was enough to make one wish to kick him on the spot.
Minutes later, an enraged Baron Feller noticed an inscription carved into the wall:
“All your wealth has been claimed by us, the South Seraph restorationists!”
Signed: Hughes, Interim Commander of the South Seraph Restorationists.
The signature, written in bold and flamboyant strokes, reflected the smugness of its author.
Baron Feller’s hands trembled with fury. He had moved all his life savings to Silver Dove Castle, confident of living a prosperous life in the affluent territory. Now, even his most precious reserves were gone.
Driven to desperation, the baron now felt capable of challenging a Saint rank in combat.
When pushed to the brink, humans are capable of anything—even facing dragons.
Baron Feller suddenly broke into tears, furiously pounding the wall as he cursed, “Hughes, you will die a miserable death! Hughes, how could you take all my money? Not even a single centime left!”
“Hughes, if I catch you, I’ll hand you over to the High Priest Augustradin.”
“I will have the High Priest Augustradin punish you severely!”
“How can anyone be so cruel, taking every last coin? My money!”
“Those damn South Seraph restorationists! They’re nothing but bandits, true bandits…”
At that moment, Baron Feller’s mind held only one thought:
“My hatred for the South Seraph restorationists is irreconcilable. My grudge against Hughes will not end until one of us is dead.”
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