Chapter 374: Chapter 371: Your Majesty, What is the Fatherland?
A passionate speech drifted from a classroom. Rorschach and Andre walked over, one after the other. A young instructor was reading a special letter to a group of teenage boys.
"Your great Majesty, I implore you to rescind your denouncement of the formation of the National Guard. If you do not, you will lead the people to believe that the King is no longer the King of the Valois people, but the king of the Exiles and the enemy.
"Since the birth of the nation of Valois, countless people have made immense efforts and sacrifices for it, and they continue to do so. Whether these devoted souls acted in the name of God, for honor or family, for wealth or land, it is only in the struggle against a common enemy that they can unite as one oppressed people.
"Therefore, the fatherland is not some fabrication in an anthem, nor an imagined concept in a turn of phrase. It is the beauty nurtured by blood and terror, the homeland that bears the Valois people.
"It has always been the fatherland that has granted you and all its rulers throughout history your authority. The form of the fatherland is decided by struggle, which is why I have dared not refer to it as a ’Kingdom.’ I implore you to remember that what determines a struggle is not its leaders, but who—or what—they struggle against!
"Struggle means disappointment in the past and hope for the future.
"If you do not change your position, if you continue to side with forces already in decline, if you continue to hope for external powers to intervene and change your circumstances, you will allow the people’s disappointment in the past and hope for the future to coalesce into a desperate present. When that happens, the struggle will take its most cruel and tragic form: a far more thorough revolution!"
This was actually a letter written by the Holy Kingdom’s Minister of Internal Affairs to Charles XVI!
As the Kingdom’s three old legions struggled to hold off the Empire Army and the blade from the north drew ever closer to the Royal Capital, the entire Kingdom was once again plunged into great turmoil and unease. Everyone except Charles XVI, who was confined to the Royal Palace.
He could now only leverage his influence over the Royalist Faction to sway the situation. He was firmly convinced that a worsening of the war would only benefit him. If the Church Army won, the King’s power would be restored along with the rising authority of the Church. If they lost, it didn’t matter. The Emperor of the Empire had already promised Charles to restore his "dignity as King." Besides, his wife was a relative of a relative of the Emperor... In short, they were all one big family.
So when council members led by "Rock" Maxim pushed for national salvation, especially the formation of the National Guard, Charles XVI did everything in his power to obstruct them.
Even his own Minister of Internal Affairs could no longer stand by and watch. Braving the King’s (no longer fatal) wrath and the risk of being dismissed, he wrote this letter of admonishment.
Then, he got exactly what he was asking for and was fired by a thunderously enraged Charles XVI.
The former Minister of Internal Affairs, Roland, followed the example of the "Alchemy Master" Nekker and also made his letter public. It caused a tremendous uproar centered in Valuva, with ripples even reaching Bayern.
Now, the teenage boys below the podium had also heard the contents of this letter, recited by a speaker whose voice was both passionate and profoundly sincere.
The students were listening. The students were thinking.
They too had a fatherland. Bayern too had a King.
CLAP—CLAP—CLAP!
Slow applause sounded from the doorway. The speaker jumped, startled. He put away his manuscript and stammered, "This is a history class, and the students are interested in the current war. I just happened to have some news related to Valuva..."
One could read about the war in the newspapers, read the Empire’s mouthpieces trumpeting how the army was winning victory after victory. But for this instructor to choose to read such a letter—one not easily obtained and forbidden from circulation within the Empire—to these impulsive young men was quite thought-provoking.
Idealism is the crystallization of intellect, virtue, and conscience. It is not the exclusive property of any one group or region.
The instructor was a little apprehensive. He knew Rorschach Mage was close with Bayern’s Royal Family and feared that the Mage was prone to suspicion and scrutiny.
But Rorschach was smiling. "Class, you are fortunate to have a teacher like him." With that, he left the classroom, not forgetting to close the door behind him. "But when you discuss sensitive topics like this, please keep the door closed."
Although it was winter, the entire academy was heated! The classrooms closer to the heat source were so hot and stuffy they had to keep their doors open. Not only that, but Rorschach also wanted to provide heating for the newly built residential houses.
After all, the people were working in the Steel Factory and the coal chemical plant! If they still had to suffer from the cold, Rorschach might as well find a lump of coal and bash his own head in.
The one with the most objections to the "Warm Dwellings Project" was Jansen. Though the leather-clad fellow used to lead a mobile construction team, the times were turbulent, and he and the other Dwarves had decided it was a wise choice to sign a long-term contract with a quality employer.
Normally, his only job was to build. But the addition of a heating function to the power workshop went strongly against his Dwarven nature.
For example, the high-pressure steam from the waste-heat boiler ran through low-alloy, high-pressure resistant pipes. Without the rare earths of his previous life, Rorschach had tested various alchemy materials one by one to create a batch of high-pressure resistant pipes.
Those without significant defects after inspection were sent to Lansite. The rest, with minor flaws, didn’t need to be sent back to the furnace. Rorschach used magic to reshape and reinforce them, then used them for the main heating supply line. Compared to the synthetic ammonia production line, which operated at several hundred atmospheres of pressure, handling steam was a piece of cake.
In Jansen’s eyes, this high-temperature and impact-resistant "super steel" ought to be used for forging invincible, awesome-looking armor. Instead, it had been turned into thick pipes with a diameter taller than he was.
"It’s nothing. We were already projected to spend that much money anyway. Just think of it as building up our technical reserves," Rorschach said calmly.
"Technical—reserves?" Jansen immediately understood the meaning of the phrase. "Reserves for what?" He slapped the steel pipe hard, making it ring with a resounding CLANG, as if hating the steel for not being armor. "It’s not like we’re building cannons... can-can-cannons?"
"If a single cannonball could travel a hundred kilometers, it wouldn’t be much worse than magic, would it?" Rorschach made a circle with his arms to indicate the caliber. "Of course, it doesn’t have to be some big, dumb, crude thing..."
Jansen shook his head. "That *is* magic!"
"Alright, alright, get your money and get to work. The construction schedule can’t fall behind while I’m gone. Once spring comes, the rains will increase, and the working conditions won’t be as good."
Having assigned the tasks, Rorschach set off on his journey back to Lansite. On his shoulder, Ges persistently tried to stick a stalk of wheat into its master’s hair.
There were more and more roadblocks and checkpoints these days. Rorschach simply hung his special permit from his mount—it was just a sheet of parchment, after all. Even so, several lines of defense manned by soldiers still stopped him for inspection.
Only after he entered the mountain forests between the two cities did the path through the woods become clearer. Against a sky covered by bare branches and evergreen trees, a few dark figures occasionally flashed past.
Rorschach knew they were "Sky-Cavalry." The Royal Family treasured this unit and had always wanted to expand it, but Rorschach had refused due to the Tower Spirit’s limited processing power.
Now, with more people accessing the "Spell Cloud," Rorschach also needed to adjust and upload more magic. Upgrading it had become an urgent problem, which was precisely why he was in a hurry to get back to Lansite.
RUSTLE RUSTLE... A sound came from the left side of the forest. Rorschach reined in his horse and concealed himself with [Mirror Flower Water Moon]. On the other side of the road, Bayern’s light cavalry and the vanguard soldiers responsible for clearing the path appeared first, followed by the main force.
This legion, avoiding the main roads, was passing through the forest, its column stretched out to an extreme length. Rorschach could have flown over them, but his mount would have certainly been spooked. Thus, he could only wait patiently for the column to pass.
Among them, Rorschach spotted a familiar figure, swaggering along with the army on a mount a full head taller than a typical Warhorse.
