Chapter 456: Chapter 453: Did You Get the Wrong Script?
As summer began in Bayern, the weather alternated between hot and cold spells. Fortunately, there were none of the treacherous foehn winds of the Central Mountain Range to contend with. But now, a different kind of "scorching wind" was wreaking havoc.
The Wool and Textile Guild received a shocking piece of news, like a bolt from the blue. From the various states along the Tams River to the northern Empire, all their clients were terminating their contracts and canceling their final orders for finished yarn. As if by common consent, tariffs on wool were also raised. The Workshop Masters were bewildered; never before the war had the various members of the Empire, north and south, acted in such perfect unison.
As for doing business with Valois... those people could only issue IOUs, making trade completely impossible. The Workshop Masters of Bayern were as stubborn as the Empire People. Even in an economic downturn, they couldn’t bring themselves to develop such "advanced" business models as operating at a loss or making their employees take out loans just to come to work.
The workshops, feeling abandoned by the world, first laid off their employees, then went bankrupt and liquidated, releasing a flood of skilled but unstable individuals into society. It was like countless cells rupturing, their cytoplasm spilling out and releasing inflammatory factors.
The newly unemployed, looking for a way to pass the time, instinctively gravitated toward the beer halls that lined every street and alley, where they unexpectedly found free entertainment. Every so often, a young person would emulate the old tales of the Republic, climbing onto a large wooden table to deliver a passionate speech:
"Our enemy is not the Valois people, nor the Empire, and certainly not the other states that have abandoned our alliance... It is clear that the enemy is within, among us, and ruling over us..."
Seditious speeches in the beer halls of Munich were not a good sign.
Because the customers didn’t have enough money in their pockets, if they wanted to drink their fill, they could only afford light beer that was as bland as water. They couldn’t even get it cold, which at the start of summer made it taste like slightly sour horse piss.
The warmer the beer, the angrier the drinkers became.
BANG! The sound of a mug smashing coincided perfectly with the sound of guards kicking in the door. The patrons fled in a panic, conveniently skipping out on their bills, while the speaker on the table was cornered and caught red-handed.
Similar speeches and similar arrests grew more frequent, finally attracting the attention of the Bayern Royal Family and the City Hall.
"This must be a conspiracy by the Valois people! We have to teach them a lesson, and while we’re at it, let the Empire People know that Bayern is not to be trifled with!" The Eldest Prince slammed his fist on the table. His energy and tone were remarkably similar to those of the beer hall speakers.
Second Prince Otto, however, was frowning in thought, which successfully piqued the King’s interest. Albert nodded. "Otto, what are your thoughts?"
Otto had been keeping a close watch on the Empire Prime Minister who shared his name, as well as on the Empire’s recent activities. He proposed a possibility that seemed impossible at first glance:
"Could it be the Empireists who are behind this agitation?"
"That’s..." To his brother’s astonishment, the Second Prince explained, "As far as I know, the Empire Council is about to begin reforms to promote a small electoral district system... and right now, we are the biggest obstacle..."
Related news was already causing a stir. Many sharp-nosed brokers were active, and numerous factions hoping to secure a seat were making their moves.
If that were the case, it would mean the Empire was collaborating with forces inside Bayern.
At first glance, the calls to emulate Valois seemed the loudest, but in reality, the Major Trading Companies and the families holding positions in the City Hall were more than willing to bow to the Empire and rejoin its trade system. The former outcry might just be a tool for them to leverage the situation and pressure the Royal Family.
Thinking about it that way, it seemed entirely possible. The Eldest Prince balled his fist and slammed it down again, reducing the table’s HP by one. "They’re trying to carve up and devour the Ludwig family’s fortune!"
The King frowned at his impulsive, short-tempered eldest son before turning back to the second.
Otto hesitated for a moment. "Right now, my biggest concern is the Special Zone... If they, no, if Rorschach is willing..."
The King nodded in agreement. "For now, let’s not provoke them. We’ll see how the delivery of the spring wheat and the new armaments goes."
The Second Prince added another suggestion. "We could reach out to the members of the Autonomous Committee. Offer them one or two of our current Empire Council seats. Don’t let them keep revolving around that Mage."
"...Acceptable."
In truth, neither the Eldest Prince’s nor the Second Prince’s judgment was entirely wrong. Bayern was currently caught in a pincer attack from both the Empire and Valois.
Through the Southwest Border, which was the Special Zone, printed materials and newspapers from the Republic were being imported in a frenzy. Even "dissidents" wanted by the Empire who had sought refuge in Valois were being intentionally allowed back in to stir up trouble.
Meanwhile, the Empire pressured Bayern’s commerce. After securing complete control of the south, it immediately imposed punitive tariffs on Bayern and used various means to compel trading companies within its borders to reduce trade with them.
This would continue until Bayern yielded and accepted the small electoral district plan.
On the Ferolun Continent, when the top dog and the number two get into a fight, it’s a law of nature that number three gets beaten up. In the early stages, the two giants had been fighting too fiercely to spare anyone else a thought. But once the intensity of their conflict ebbed, they discovered that Bayern was actually living quite comfortably. How could they tolerate that?
The "Empire’s Stern Father Flying Kick" and the "Republic’s Big Sister Brainwashing Beam" had finally arrived.
So, was there any impact on the Kempson-Lansite District? Yes, there was. The impact was that they were stuffed to the gills with orders.
Inside the Mage Tower, in Rorschach’s workshop, Andre was reporting to the "Big Boss," who had just returned after gallivanting about for several days.
"How much?" Rorschach thought he had misheard and repeated the figures. "They want to order fifty thousand tons of steel ingots? And they want them processed into rebar and steel plates?"
Without expanding production, this single order would consume nearly half of Rorschach’s current capacity. His plans for the Automobile Factory and the mass production of Demonic Puppets would have to be postponed. As it was, the Special Zone’s labor force was already stretched to its limit.
"It’s to be delivered in installments over one year. The first phase is the eastern section of the Black Forest, which is estimated to require 12,000 tons of steel."
This steel would be used... to construct the strongest, most impregnable line of fortresses in the history of the Ferolun Continent... named after the New Marshal, Helmut.
Rorschach and Andre didn’t know the name of this defensive line, but their steel mill had already been selected as one of the main suppliers. Furthermore, news from the Balderom Chamber of Commerce indicated that the Empire was already preparing for its construction. The first line would encompass the currently occupied territories and areas disputed with Valois, while the second line would follow the pre-war Southern Border.
The specifications for the line were exceedingly high, calling for a complete network of fortress clusters and permanent fortifications. It was said that many Mages had also been mobilized to assist with the construction and accelerate the process. The design plans even took into account the large Mechanical Bodies that had appeared only once. To counter such assault weapons, the plans required reverse slopes and high-tensile wire mesh to slow their advance, ensuring they could be destroyed by artillery or the Casters within the fortresses.
’Wait, this... this script is all wrong. Did I pick up the wrong one?’
Andre handed the compiled information to Rorschach. The cost of the defensive line was to be split three ways: funded by the Imperial Capital after an audit by the Council, financed through special bonds, and paid for by the local regions. "Local regions," in this case, meant the places where the line was to be built—the Southern States.
Now Rorschach understood. What Ma... Helmut Defense Line? This was clearly a "Zhengguo Canal"!
The Republic was using "terror" to re-establish control over its local regions. Meanwhile, the Empire, in its efforts to consolidate the Southern States, was not only pushing for the small electoral district reform but also using the threat of the Republic to intimidate these disobedient members of the Empire Council. The goal was to force them to pour vast amounts of manpower and resources into this project, leaving them so breathless they would have no energy left to cause trouble or challenge the Imperial Capital.
’Brilliant, just brilliant. The wisdom of the ancients... my ass!’ Rorschach still felt the Empireists had gotten the script wrong. ’Shouldn’t they be brute-forcing another miracle?’
What he didn’t know was that the Empire’s plan for a lightning conquest had essentially failed. The New Marshal, and indeed the entire military leadership, had undergone a shift in thinking. They were now mythologizing the "turtle strategy" that had played such a key role before. Building this massive defensive line was a way to consolidate their war gains, both in a practical and a systemic sense.
Theoretically, this wasn’t wrong. The National Guard loved their all-in charges, so the plan was to build something they couldn’t charge through. A defensive counterattack would then be a classic case of waiting at ease for an exhausted enemy.
Rorschach suddenly thought of a key question. "How is the military paying for our order? Don’t tell me Bayern has to foot part of the bill too."
Andre didn’t understand why Rorschach had said "too." "Cash," he replied. "All of it in cash. If we accept, the first advance payment and the iron ore will arrive by the end of the month."
Bayern mainly produced coal; its iron ore output could no longer keep up with the Special Zone’s pig iron and steel production capacity. Not only was the Empire offering cash, but it was also guaranteeing the supply of raw materials. Their sincerity was palpable.
Hiss... ’Are they trying to buy off the Special Zone?’ What a move... Rorschach sucked in a sharp breath and started rubbing his hands together. "Heh!"
Now that they had money, they had to expand recruitment and poach some talent. But the first thing on his mind wasn’t laborers. "Andre, don’t you think we have too few Casters? Could we... poach some from the Tower of Secret Techniques?"
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