Chapter 337: Long live the king!

Chapter 337

Long live the king!

Eugene and Valda’s partnership was famous even beyond Britannia’s borders. It wasn’t simply that they got along well – there was a narrative between them, a complementarity that captured the imagination.

From the days when he was a penniless knight to the present, they had adventured together as lovers. After becoming husband and wife, they stood side by side in war and politics, or turned their backs to one another in trust. A human and an elf married couple, the kind found only in fairy tales.

Because of this, young knights and noble ladies harbored a certain fantasy about the pair.

An armored knight and a robed elven mage. Two people from opposite sides of the world, having tea together while dignifiedly discussing policy.

But Eugene and Valda were human too.

“The bathwater feels especially nice today.”

“A fine fragrant oil came in as tribute. Plus, I scattered some morning flower petals on top.”

Eugene sat cross-legged on the bed opposite Valda. Between them lay a large open book. ‘Britannia Traditional Tax Code’ it read – a record of the taxes levied by the half-elf households.

Both were in nightclothes, and Valda wore a headband. Discussing state affairs in such attire in the bedroom was not uncommon.

“The contents are more modest than I expected.”

“The elf royal house always pursued small government. The half-elf households that inherited that tradition did the same.”

If Eugene became king of Britannia, several privileges would come with it.

The first was scutage. It was the custom for vassal lords or free city council members under feudal contract to pay money in lieu of providing military forces.

As king, the scope of scutage would expand nationwide, allowing vigorous troop mobilization and tax collection. If the king had gone on the Midgard expedition in that capacity, the army’s size could have doubled.

Additionally, royal levies could be imposed whenever a major event occurred in the royal household. The most representative examples were the crown prince’s wedding or the ransom demanded when the king was captured in war.

“A king’s ransom? Isn’t that a clause that’s never used?”

“I can’t imagine you being captured, but wouldn’t it be excellent insurance? There have been cases where the ransom for a captured king wiped out three years of the royal budget.”

“The crown prince’s wedding can only be used once.”

“Would you rather tax every birth of a prince or princess?”

Valda laughed at her own joke, but her husband was serious.

“That wouldn’t be so bad. It’s a happy occasion, and taxes would multiply every year?”

“…If that happened, the babies who should be blessed would become objects of anxiety and resentment.”

Valda glared at him with reddened cheeks. However, she seemed to have no objection to having many children.

“What about the head tax?”

Various kingdoms imposed a tax on the person themselves, known as the head tax. Nobles were not exempt, and the higher one’s rank, the higher the head tax – up to several dozen times.

The elf royal house, which ruled through virtue, did not levy a head tax, but the ancient kingdom that pursued hegemony collected it ruthlessly.

Eugene, who had a foot in both the First and Second Eras, could make an excuse favorable to either side.

“I intend to follow the tradition of the First Era. This is Britannia, after all.”

“An excellent idea. What the lords throughout the land fear most is the head tax. If you announce its abolition, everyone will breathe a sigh of relief.”

Valda agreed with evident relief. Though she was his spouse by flesh and blood, she always observed boundaries. Tax decisions were the king’s exclusive prerogative, and she was extremely cautious.

“It’s not solely for the lords’ support. I dream of a paradise for immigrants.”

“What a modest ambition.”

For Valda, it was an unexpected aspiration. Every king had a vision of an ideal kingdom.

-Call me the Iron King. In my reign, no barbarian tribe will dare covet this land.

Most were strongmen who dreamed of a powerful nation. Every king burned with passion and ambition upon ascension.

-On this land, I will respect the rights of those born of blue blood. I will increase the size of the noble council…

A king who ascended under questionable legitimacy sometimes made humiliating concessions. He owed many political debts to the lords who supported him and had to repay them.

But a nation for immigrants was a direction never heard of anywhere.

“The island nation is protected by the sea. It can be safe from wars, disasters, and even the past one would prefer to forget. Britannia is large and prosperous enough to achieve economies of scale. If you add to that the abolition of the head tax, wouldn’t it be the best choice for immigrants?”

It was an age when population equaled national power. If a British citizen married an immigrant and had children, it was immediately one plus one. If an entire immigrant family crossed over, any ruler’s mouth would naturally fall open.

Wealth could be built through trade, but population could not. Eugene had no intention of hunting humans – he planned to make them come voluntarily.

And if immigrants who came that way disrupted order? This was a convenient era when they could be immediately crushed.

“But we must levy the land tax.”

It was a system where the inheritor of land gave the king a substantial portion of the first year’s harvest. Though called a land tax, it was essentially an inheritance tax.

“Naturally. The taxes the king levies are not merely for piling up silver coins. They serve to establish authority. If you don’t even levy the land tax, people will…”

Valda hesitated.

“What is it?”

“I was going to say people would mock your authority, but…”

No matter how she thought about it, Eugene had built up too much. Even if he ruled leniently, it was hard to imagine any lord daring to rebel against him.

The reason kings constantly suffered rebellions was that even a national leader’s power diminished considerably the moment he ventured into the provinces.

Darkness about geography, endemic diseases, supply problems – these combined to cause frequent defeats of royal expeditionary forces.

When rebellious armies gained momentum, the royal house would concede interests, and the rebels would formally apologize to the king. Such outcomes were extremely common.

But Britannia was different. The moment any lord defied the king, he would see massive lightning strikes descend upon the edge of his territory.

“Then regarding taxation of the religious orders…”

In a world where multiple faiths competed, overall ecclesiastical authority was weak. Thus there was no concept of tithes – instead, lords and even kings levied taxes on religious orders. Without this, Eugene couldn’t have boldly abolished the head tax.

As night deepened, issues were resolved one by one, and the most difficult problem remained.

“The great lords of each region must also swear fealty to you. But I’m not sure if those who have reigned as supreme powers for so long will comply easily.”

“The Edward family will be cooperative. Among the great lords, their position is the most precarious.”

Britannia’s west had rugged terrain. This provided not only defense against foreign powers, but also produced minor lords who defied the great lords.

The Edward family managed the west, but their control over vassals was weak. In the previous civil war, they alone among the great houses suffered the humiliation of being betrayed by their vassals.

If they pledged loyalty to the king and rode his coattails, they could establish a much firmer position as great lords. It was a win-win relationship.

“The central and eastern regions also won’t easily voice opposition.”

“The Kruger family was devastated in the civil war, and they themselves set the precedent of claiming kingship through force of logic. It would be difficult for them to resist someone who presents the same argument with even greater strength and achievements. The current head of the house is also favorably disposed toward you.”

Valda stroked her chin, recalling Cray Kruger – the knight who had boldly challenged Eugene to single combat with a small force.

He was the only great lord of Britannia who participated in the Midgard expedition. As a warrior-king like Eugene who personally fought on the front lines, they had much in common.

“The Harvester family has a large population and is wealthy, but they’re weak. Unlike the west, it’s an ideal region for your cavalry to run rampant.”

“You’re assuming the use of force?”

“It’s the ascension to a throne that has been vacant for a long time. No matter how renowned you are and how much you’ve benefited them, there will inevitably be opposition.”

“If it goes wrong, another civil war could break out.”

Britannia held special meaning for Valda. Yet her expression was resolute.

“I’ve watched your wise rule from the side. I’ve seen how many people the decisions from this mind have nourished and benefited.”

Valda, kneeling half-risen, stroked her husband’s head with both hands.

“This isn’t a wife speaking. It’s also the eye of the goddess who chose you. I only hope this fight becomes the last civil war.”

Though she said this, Valda also believed a war would not occur. In the current Britannia, raising an army against Eugene’s coronation was not a wise move.

“Other places aside, the north is the problem. Those people have always been fiercely independent.”

Other regions could be subdued by force if necessary, but fighting the north was troublesome in many ways.

This wasn’t a conversation only Eugene and Valda shared. Each great lord also confided thoughts to their wives that they couldn’t voice to their retainers.

*

On the balcony of the Harvester household in eastern Britannia.

“Where is this?”

“Varcia.”

The composed countess studied a map with a young boy. Whenever her finger pointed to a region, the boy answered.

“What’s the character of the nation?”

“A terrifying nation with powerful knightly orders.”

“Drop the ‘terrifying.’ You must realize you’ll lead our family someday, right? Everyone wants to serve a confident lord.”

“But their fangs are all jagged…”

“No fang will ever touch your neck. Brave knights will protect you.”

The countess’s finger pointed further south.

“And this?”

“Gord. Those bad men who sail over and cause trouble whenever they’re bored.”

The boy puffed his cheeks with displeasure. Unlike Varcia, a cavalry nation, Gord was a commercial nation that had long been at odds with eastern Britannia.

“They’ve signed a trade agreement now.”

“But they killed Uncle Herbert.”

“…That was a sad affair.”

Among those who fell fighting the Gord army that had raided in the past were relatives of the Harvester household.

“But you must be able to shake hands and even embrace enemies. That is the life of a ruler.”

“Lord Mair just crushed all his enemies.”

Small fingers pointed at Midgard. This was the part the young sons of noble families enjoyed most during lessons.

Family against family, people against people, nation against nation. Relationships that had become hostile over long stretches of time were numerous.

Yet cases of achieving complete revenge for practical reasons were virtually nonexistent. Most merely achieved fragile ceasefires and trade agreements, burying the past temporarily.

But Eugene had led a coalition army and swept in for a thorough cleansing.

-The princess cast her magic, cutting off the enemy’s escape route.

-Bean tree! Bean tree!

-Yes. It truly was a magical bean tree.

The young boys listened with bright eyes to the knights’ testimonies.

-After that, with every step our army advanced, those filthy Vikings met their demise en masse.

-Were there no escape routes at all?

-Hahaha! Some tried to climb the bean tree wall to escape above. But they were busy pulling each other down. The ones climbing had their wrists hacked by axes, and the ones below shot crossbows and arrows at the climbers. A truly barbarian ending.

The knights’ stories had a refreshing quality absent from any history lesson.

“It’s grown late. Go inside and sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy yet.”

“If you sleep early, you’ll grow strong like Count Mair.”

The boy trotted down, took his nurse’s hand, and left the lord’s bedchamber. Watching him go with a warm expression, the countess spoke to her husband.

“If Lord Mair claims the throne, will our boy have to go as a hostage?”

“He will.”

When the count nodded, his wife’s face darkened.

“For now he’s at the age of missing his mother’s embrace, but when he grows older, he’ll actually beg to be sent. He’ll be able to see all the world’s marvels.”

Eugene’s court was filled with things that set a man’s heart racing.

-Father. Next time you go south, please take me too! They say that castle has a hydra taxidermy!

-Not taxidermy, just bones. The hide was provided to the knights as armor.

-I want to see even that!

Moreover, thanks to the Moving Castle, one could experience the outside world while maintaining a safe and hygienic life.

For lords worried about disease or banditry when broadening their heir’s horizons, it was a perfect choice. Of course, for mothers who bore children through painful labor, it was unwelcome.

“Will you accept? Becoming a vassal under the Mair household?”

“What other option is there? Think of the monsters and armies he’s defeated. Our territory would be a sumptuous feast laid out for consumption.”

“Honestly, the mood among the lords who returned from the expedition is somewhat uneasy.”

Though still vassals of the Harvester household, there were subtle currents suggesting loyalties were shifting elsewhere. The lord and his wife sensed this.

If they called the vassals to resist Mair’s coronation, how many would actually come? No matter how they thought about it, they couldn’t imagine everyone showing up. Half would be fortunate.

“Besides, the Vikings haven’t been completely destroyed. The lords who pledged fealty to Mair are absorbing the remaining territory and refugees.”

“Could they possibly attack us?”

“Hiring pirates to attack enemy merchant ships is common practice, isn’t it? We’ve done it, and foreign kings all do it.”

Moreover, Eugene and the Bargeant were in a lord-vassal relationship. It was far cleaner and more dignified than privateering.

*

At the same time, Count Edward of the west was preparing a declaration of support and tribute for the coronation.

“My dear. We must be the first to offer support. If Kingsfield can be preserved under the king’s name…”

“Of course.”

Britannia’s west suffered chronic food shortages due to scarce plains and poor transportation. Thus Kingsfield, the only breadbasket, was the west’s lifeline.

The problem was that Kingsfield jutted out from the western territory and occupied a position that central and northern lords could conveniently attack.

Outside lords had always coveted Kingsfield, and even if they didn’t attack, they extracted tribute payments. Among Britannia’s great lords, the west was most in need of royal protection.

“The Bristol family hasn’t sent hostages for three generations now. If a new king stands behind us, would they dare defy us?”

Several families constantly challenged the Edward family’s influence. If they could reduce the garrison at Kingsfield, they could redirect that force inward and make an example.

Besides, submitting to another household was not particularly humiliating for the Edward family. The challenges and disrespect they received from the houses under their own control were far more infuriating.

Meanwhile, the central region felt conflicted.

“He didn’t seem the type to lust after power.”

“The throne must be a means to an end for him. He wants the crown because it helps with what he aims to do.”

“Then what will we do? Accept a southerner as king?”

“Strictly speaking, he’s not a southerner – he’s a noble from Roman. And isn’t it natural for the strongest to stand at the top? This country has gone too long without a pillar.”

The self-satisfied centrists revered force above all else. The strongest ascending to the pinnacle was natural.

With many people from Midgard and mixed-blood descendants, serving a king was not foreign to centrists. Many warriors actually desired a powerful king on the throne.

Those who had planned to support the king all along had little aversion to the new taxes. The dead King Kruger had even tried to levy a head tax.

“But he’s our enemy!”

“Then where should we raid…”

Those who had been beaten by Eugene in the civil war or had strong raiding instincts existed. They viewed the coronation negatively, but this was not the majority opinion. They didn’t dare voice it publicly.

The most uncooperative response, as expected, came from the north. They didn’t openly oppose the coronation, but as always hinted at pursuing an independent course – “The north is the north.”

The flames of civil war had never reached their region, and they had suffered the least from Viking invasions. They therefore felt little debt for Eugene’s achievements.

“Announce throughout Britannia!”

“The long-awaited celebration is imminent!”

With no clear opponents and everyone watching the south’s lead, the date was finally set. Heralds galloped out to all regions bearing the glad tidings from Haven.

*

The promised day arrived.

Pealing bells echoed throughout Haven. The wind was strong, and countless banners fluttered in harmony.

Merchants closed their shops for the day, and even those who lived in the city’s shadows stood in the sunlight with pounding hearts.

From the south, west, center, east, and north, people lined both sides of the main road bearing various banners. All watched Eugene’s back as he entered the grand cathedral for his coronation.

“May the God of Justice be with you. May you bring his hammer down upon the righteous places. Even when wielding divine justice, always keep moderation in your heart.”

“The Goddess of Earth caresses this land. May you continue to extend the mercy you’ve shown to the weakest. In return, you shall be rewarded with eternal growth and prosperity.”

The high priests of each religious order marked Eugene’s thumb with holy water they had personally blessed, bestowing their blessing. It was a ceremony sharing the gods’ dominion with the king, bestowing divinity upon royal authority.

When the priestess of the Banas order completed the final blessing, the high priests withdrew.

“A new king of Britannia is born! He shall resume the glorious history that has been suspended!”

At Marbas’s cry, Eugene turned. He met the eyes of every noble in the cathedral.

Above his head, Valda placed a crown of branches. The same kind the half-elf household had once worn – an elven crown wrought from life and magic. It was said that with each season, the branches’ color, shape, and budding leaves changed.

“My king. Live long and healthy.”

Valda, placing the crown, whispered so only Eugene could hear. As the crowned king stood before them, the priests, nobles, and knights filling the cathedral bowed their heads.

“All hail King Eugene!”

The high priests cried in unison.

“Long live the king!”

The knights and nobles sang together, much louder.

“Long live the king!”

The boys and girls who had come with their fathers and mothers joined in.

“Long live the king!”

Hind Rex, Rampage, Jackal, and all the others who had traveled the world with Eugene also joined the chorus.

“Long live the king!”

The loudest voice in the entire cathedral belonged to Homi. With tears streaming down her face, she screamed until her throat was raw.