Munitions Empire

The small town of Brunas, inside the mayor’s room, the sheriff and the tax officer were both present. The three of them were discussing matters related to Tang Mo’s weapon workshop.

Lately, the biggest topic in the tranquil town of Brunas was likely this very weapon workshop of Tang Mo.

At this moment, the tax officer was sitting in a chair, looking over a rolled-up tax document. Seemingly indifferent, he casually mentioned, "I heard another delivery of supplies was sent from Northern Ridge to Tang Mo’s weapon workshop?"

"That’s right," the sheriff was aware of this, for he had sent someone yesterday to observe the caravan from Northern Ridge. His subordinate reported back that he had personally witnessed dozens of large wagons entering Tang Mo’s weapon workshop.

This clearly affirmed that Tang Mo indeed had a close relationship with Lord Earl and had secured his support.

The appearance of the caravan, as well as the soldiers of Lord Earl, corroborated one thing: Tang Mo was not bluffing but genuinely had the support of the mighty Earl, sheltering him from storm and stress.

From this perspective, Tang Mo surely wasn’t someone they could provoke at will. At least until Lord Earl fell from power, it would be better to avoid meddling.

It wasn’t that they feared Tang Mo or Lord Earl, but rather they all adhered to an official’s creed: Better to avoid trouble than to seek it. Everyone living in peace was truly the best outcome.

Sometimes, the goings-on in official circles were not as dark as imagined. Most officials actually had very clear thinking; they simply preferred not to take action out of indolence.

Not causing trouble or seeking action wasn’t always about accepting bribes or intentionally coddling transgressions, but often a result of lazy inertia. However, regardless of the reasons, such a mentality was in fact erroneous, and utterly detestable to the people they governed.

While tending to his fingernails, the mayor drew out his words in a prolonged tone, "I heard that Tang Mo’s weapon workshop has been setting up a school recently?"

"Yes, that is indeed happening," the sheriff, well-informed as he was, nodded in confirmation to the mayor.

The tax officer furrowed his brow unhappily and questioned, "Are we just going to let him mess around like this? You know, while the Kingdom’s law does not forbid private schools, the management of this is very..."

He had always believed that all activities within his jurisdiction should pay taxes. Tang Mo establishing a school privately would naturally require a payment. If he didn’t pay, that would be an offense.

The mayor understood quite clearly and pointed out directly, "You know, private schools are not forbidden because the Shireck Consortium also has schools. However, everyone is well aware of this; just because Shireck is allowed to operate schools doesn’t mean the Kingdom will tolerate others doing the same so casually..."

Upon mentioning this, they involuntarily recalled the School Wars that occurred decades ago. The Shireck Consortium launched a war to fight for the right to operate schools, leading to the annihilation of three Kingdoms and forcing the remaining nations to capitulate, allowing the Consortium to run schools within their territories without any restrictions.

The war lasted for three and a half months. Tens of thousands died because of it, and millions were displaced, leaving a chilling memory that lingers to this day.

Back then, they were all young or rather just children, but the war was indelibly imprinted on their childhood memories, starkly vivid.

It was during this war that Shireck’s infantry artillery gained famed, becoming a sought-after commodity in the arms market. And as a result of the war, the Shireck Consortium became a distinguished guest among nobility across various nations.

Thus, the mayor continued, "Nevertheless, many among the nobility have their own schools to cultivate talent for themselves, even to train officers."

The sheriff, ever cautious, glanced at the mayor and then at the tax officer beside him, speaking to smooth things over, "We also have to consider... if this school is something Count Fisheo instructed Tang Mo to establish, the matter becomes rather complicated."

All of them had received favours from Tang Mo, and at the time, Tang Mo had also promised more benefits later on. As the saying goes, "Beware of harming the innocent mouse when smashing the pot," the officials present handled the matter with great care.

After all, the gold coins promised by Tang Mo were tangible benefits to them, while the Kingdom’s quasi-prohibition could not restrain them.

Technically, the Kingdom does not explicitly ban the establishment of a small-scale school. Even were the King to order a thorough investigation, they would, at worst, be accused of lax supervision and probably let off with a mere reprimand.

But if they were to offend Tang Mo, they would likely lose the monthly payments of respect, and if the situation became tense, with swords drawn on both sides, the complications would intensify should an Earl decide to wreak havoc in the mix.

"Has Fisheo truly fallen on hard times in Northern Ridge? So much so that he’s come to Brunas to trouble us..." the tax officer muttered resentfully.

He surely did not wish for an Earl to suddenly come to Brunas and lord over them.

Although Brunas had nominally been under Baron Stela’s control for years, in practice, it was the domain of the mayor, sheriff, and other Kingdom officials, allowing the three of them to collect a fair share of profits.

An unwelcome presence, coming to slice up the cake — it was essential, then, to find a way to unite beforehand and drive away the invader.

Or, at the very least, to let this outsider know who really ruled the roost! A mistake in identifying that could cost lives!

"Isn’t it obvious? Count Fisheo’s Northern Ridge has long been coveted by the Suthers Kingdom; a war could break out at any moment. How confident is he that he can hold Wolf City?" the Sheriff sneered, clearly doubting the Earl of Fisheo’s prospects.

After all, everyone knew that Count Fisheo was an anomaly within the Kingdom. Although he was an Earl, he preferred to fraternize with commoners.

Unlike the rest of the nobility, he opposed land accumulation and corporate politics and was also against raising taxes.

His behavior had a severe impact on the management of other lords and nobles, increasing the difficulty of managing their territories. Therefore, Fisheo was almost the enemy of all the Kingdom’s nobles.

Under this premise, everyone wished that Northern Ridge, this accursed land, would vanish completely, as no one desired a renegade amongst them, constantly casting a shadow over their own status.

This was probably a classic case of "bad money drives out good," or in more literary terms, "The stand-out wood in the forest is the first to be brought down by the wind."

"Uh... there’s not even a thirty percent chance! The Kingdom has made no preparations for war up to now; any clear-eyed person can see that..." The Mayor was equally pessimistic about the Earl of Fisheo.

Such Kingdom officials had, more or less, heard some rumors from certain connections. This war could likely be a political reshuffling, primarily aimed at Count Fisheo.

The Sheriff, well-informed as ever, nodded in agreement, "Exactly, that Fisheo will definitely need to find himself a way out if he wants to survive! There are only two ways for him to live!"

The Mayor nonchalantly suggested the first option, "Hmm, go above, beg for mercy, and he probably ends up losing the Earl title, demoted to Viscount or Baron or something."

Stripping away his noble title to reduce Fisheo’s influence and then marginalizing him was probably the Kingdom’s most reasonable arrangement in dealing with him.

After all, Fisheo was a capable man; at least in the eyes of the ruling King, it was still not desirable to kill him outright. The Kingdom needed nobles who were willing to shoulder the state’s backbone, and Fisheo was clearly such a noble.

So, the most sensible setup was to pin the blame for a defeat on Fisheo, to let him atone for his "crimes" and scoot off to a corner where no one could see him, scraping by day after day.

When needed one day, they would summon him back, assigning him an appropriate role to play. When he was superfluous, he’d better be content being invisible, hunkered down in that corner without any more moments in the spotlight.

"The other option is to lead his troops through the Vicious Forest, retreat to Brunas, and then, armed to the teeth, he can sustain himself here," the Mayor laughed, casually adding to the conversation.

"Most likely, he’ll attempt to take both paths, and this Tang Mo, along with those elite soldiers accompanying him, they are definitely here for the second option!" the Sheriff continued.

"That makes sense indeed!" the Tax Officer, clearly enlightened, nodded in agreement with the two.

With a trace of regret, the Mayor said, "So think about it, Fisheo is probably going to spend some time in Brunas eventually; crossing him now wouldn’t be wise."

"And what about the King?" the Tax Officer turned to the two, voicing his most pressing concern.

"Feign total ignorance of this affair, and isn’t that the end of it?" the Sheriff planned to revert to his tried-and-true method of dealing with his superiors.

"Right, just vehemently deny any knowledge, and who could do anything to us? Offend neither side and simply wait for the higher-ups to decide; we’ll carry out the King’s orders once they arrive," the Mayor concurred, readily agreeing.

"Uh..." The Tax Officer had no better solution, so he nodded along.

The avaricious Mayor’s eyes glinted with greed as he added with a sly grin, "Actually, we could wait and see whether this youngster Tang Mo is going to play ball..."

The Tax Officer’s eyes brightened, and he nodded, "If he plays ball, then we’ll do as you say, Lord Mayor. If he doesn’t, we’ll warn him off this school business!"

"Makes sense!" the Sheriff also approved of this approach.

"My Lord!" Just as the three had reached an agreement, a servant hurried through the door, and bowing his head, he greeted them.

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