Chapter 488 There are still many good people.

Just as Luo Yan was inspecting the "Mud City" construction site, a series of crisp and dense gunshots echoed from the swamp not far away.

A group of Campbell soldiers, dressed in thick cotton-padded coats, are undergoing rigorous training in the cold wind, carrying brand-new equipment.

Raman was one of them.

This young man in his early twenties was not tall, and his dark fingers were covered with calluses, but they were not from firing a trigger; they were from his carpentry work.

Like many Campbells, his life was full of unpredictable twists and turns, much like the ever-changing city of Thunder.

At the age of sixteen, he came of age and inherited his father's carpentry skills, coming to the outskirts of Thunder City to make a living. Unfortunately, while Duke Aaron was still alive, Thunder City's industrialization was already in full swing, reaching its peak in the year he came of age.

Several newly opened furniture factories have taken over the supply of tables and chairs for the citizens of Leiming City, and they are both sturdy and beautifully made. Young carpenters like him, who lack both skill and reputation, have no choice but to work in factories.

In the years that followed, he first worked at the docks, then at a cannery and a textile factory, and even worked on construction sites.

But none of these jobs satisfied him, and the competition was fierce. The growth rate of jobs in Thunder City could never keep up with the ever-increasing population. Not only did displaced serfs want to work in the factories, but migrants from Twilight Province were also competing with them for jobs.

However, he eventually found the job that suited him best—to become a glorious Private Campbell, dedicating his loyalty to the Grand Duke and Irene, and preparing to head to the Twilight Province to save his people there.

Honestly, these are all secondary.

What truly prompted Raman to make up his mind was not his desire to achieve great things, but rather a time when he was drunk and heard that there was plenty of wood in the Twilight Province.

His Majesty the Grand Duke promised in the mobilization order that anyone who fights for the Duchy of Campbell will receive a piece of land in the reconstruction of the Twilight Province.

Raman couldn't help but fantasize that if he could follow Princess Irene to save those poor people from the Green Forest Army, perhaps he could be allocated a piece of forest of his own after the war. At that time, he could return to his old profession and become a wealthy carpenter.

Thinking this way, he had clearly forgotten that his inability to be a carpenter was not due to a lack of wood, but simply because his skills were too poor.

However, everyone has the freedom to dream.

In order to own a forest of his own, Raman trained hard every day and unknowingly became an elite in the eyes of his superiors.

Although he wasn't good at carpentry, he could precisely measure the amount of gunpowder into the gun barrel down to the gram; his eyesight and skill were remarkable.

The officer was reluctant to send him to the front lines, saying he wanted to build an elite unit, so he kept him and those equally outstanding young men on the job.

The "Jack" unit gave them a taste of success. While firepower and organization on the main battlefield are important, unexpected tactics are also essential.

And so, Raman waited until the end of the war, only to see the head of "Green Turban" Kelan in the newspaper with a look of utter despair.

His forest had been invaded by others.

Shortly after, "Quartermaster" Silas also died.

The main force of the Green Forest Army was completely defeated outside Twilight City. Before he, a new recruit, could even go to the front line, everything was over.

It is said that the first batch of soldiers who followed Eileen north have already sung songs as they laid down their arms and returned to their fields, wielding hoes on the plains outside Jiliu Pass.

It seems that some people have also been assigned to the forest farm. Those timbers did indeed belong to the nobility before, but now their owners can't be found.

Raman thought he would return in the same confused way he had come, with only a meager military pay and demobilization allowance, to find a new job to make ends meet in the smoky new industrial zone of Thunder City.

However, Archduke Edward's governor, Goethe Wilson, did not lift the mobilization order as everyone had expected.

As if they hadn't seen the newspaper, they continued working as usual, and then took the young men from the recruit training camp to this desolate southwestern swamp.

Beside this "mud city" that rose from the ground, they were reissued brand-new rifles and cotton-padded clothes, changing from autumn uniforms to winter uniforms, and continued to receive training.

Private Campbell usually trains for two weeks before going to the battlefield, but this time, for some reason, they have been training here for almost two months and still haven't seen the enemy.

It was deep winter, and the place was cold and damp.

Even wrapped in thick cotton clothes, Raman often shivered from the bone-chilling cold. Many of his comrades had frostbite on their feet because their boots were soaked in icy mud all day, and the camp was filled with curses after training every day.

However, Raman didn't care about that.

He was an exceptionally hardworking person, from the poorest village in the Duchy of Campbell, unlike the pampered citizens.

Working for Earl Derek only provided a meal, and even that wasn't very filling. In winter, you had to carry some dried pumpkin with you so you could nibble on it when you woke up hungry.

His Majesty the Grand Duke's mobilization included not only money but also clothes. Although the citizens would carry some pastries they brought from home with them and eat them secretly at night, it was clear that they were not doing so to fill their stomachs.

At least Raman didn't, and he wasn't starving.

Aside from his ability to endure hardship, most of the bitterness in his heart was diluted by the excitement brought by the novel weapon in his arms.

He had loved playing with his father's bird gun since he was a child, and was no stranger to firearms, but he had never seen such a powerful thing before.

Pulling the short metal lever next to the bolt and blowing a gentle breath will blow out any unburned cardboard.

Next, insert a paper-cased bullet filled with gunpowder, then push the lever back sharply to complete the loading of the next round.

This rifle doesn't even need to be cleaned in the barrel or slowly filled with gunpowder; you can fire it as soon as you close the locking mechanism!

Because the locking mechanism makes a crisp "ding" sound when the lever is pushed or pulled, the soldiers privately jokingly call it the "ding-ding rifle," while the mountain people, for some reason, call it the "cow rifle."

Regardless of what others call it, Raman prefers its official name – “Rocksay 1053 Rifle”.

The name comes from Prince "Roxie Collin," produced by the punk gun factory in Thunder City.

He felt honored to fight while holding the prince's gun.

In the hearts of many Campbell soldiers, this generous, kind, and deeply devoted Imperial Prince, who was also deeply in love with Princess Irene, had long been considered one of their own, just like their son-in-law.

In the hearts of countless Campbells, His Highness was second only to their revered Archduke Edward and Princess Irene.

"Look! His Highness the Prince has come to see us!" A soldier in the ranks whispered excitedly.

Raman looked up at the distance and was immediately surprised. He hadn't expected that His Highness the Prince would also come to this swamp.

Not only did the young men who were training see the prince, but their centurions also clearly saw him.

This guy, who was usually so carefree, was now puffing out his chest like a proud rooster, his face flushed with excitement.

"Cheer up, Campbell's lads, straighten your backs!"

The centurion, shouting at the top of his lungs, paced back and forth in front of the column, his loud voice echoing across the swamp.

"...Show His Highness what we practiced yesterday! Let the brothers of the Duchy of Colin see what their ally is capable of!"

Eyes widened like copper bells, and he was met with a spirited shout.

"Yes, Centurion!"

After shouting along with everyone else, Raman took a deep breath, held it, and adjusted the ammunition pouch at his waist to ensure everything was in order.

On a high slope not far away, His Highness the Prince indeed stopped there, holding a giant dragon cub in his arms, looking over with a smile.

The baby dragon seemed to be looking in their direction with curious eyes, as if it were looking at something new and interesting.

"All soldiers!" The centurion drew his sword, his breath hot in the air, veins bulging on his neck. "Target: wooden stake 100 meters ahead! Suppressive fire, prepare—"

Hearing the urgent drumbeats of the military band, Raman quickly raised his gun, aimed at the thick wooden stake, and suppressed his increasingly rapid heartbeat.

"Fire!"

At the captain's command, Raman pulled the trigger.

"Bang--!"

A burst of orange-yellow light erupted from the tip of the gun barrel, followed by a cacophony of gunfire as a hail of bullets rained down on the woods ahead.

Raman was jolted on the shoulder, but he didn't stop at all; his fingers had already skillfully hooked onto the lever.

Pull it open, insert the cartridge, push it forward!

This time the cardboard burned very thoroughly, so the step of blowing air into the barrel could be omitted, and re-aiming was done in one go.

"bite--"

"Bang--!"

After the crisp clicking of the lock, another gunshot rang out!

The deafening gunfire was like firecrackers going off, no longer the sporadic popping of the past, but a continuous rumble of thunder!

The so-called "suppressive fire" is the latest tactic in Campbell's Army training.

Unlike the previous drills of "three-stage firing" and "gradual advance and slow firing", they will maintain their formation and repeatedly reload and fire in a very short time, unleashing a hail of bullets on the enemy's position!

Raman's speed is astonishing.

He was a natural carpenter, with steady and dexterous hands, able to fire a shot every two and a half seconds on average!

Beside him, there was a young man even younger than him who was exceptionally talented. It was said that he used to play the piano and could keep the speed down to one shot every two seconds!

In an instant, a terrifying roar erupted across the entire training ground.

One hundred soldiers unleashed astonishing firepower in just one minute!

Amidst the flickering flames, a hail of bullets rained down like an endless storm of steel, sweeping over the target with overwhelming force.

The row of wooden stakes used as targets was almost instantly shattered into pieces, with wood chips flying everywhere.

The grove behind the wooden stake suffered even more, its flesh torn open by the dense barrage of bullets, with countless broken branches and leaves flying everywhere, as if it had been baptized by artillery fire!

Not far away, the lizardmen who were helping to move the timber were terrified by the terrifying commotion. They dropped what they were doing and lay trembling in the mud.

In the eye of the storm, Raman felt his ears ringing and the gun barrel burning hot like a branding iron.

"Cease fire!"

The centurion shouted, sheathed his raised sword, and, imitating the nobles, gave a slight bow to the prince not far away.

Raman saw that the prince in the distance seemed quite pleased, and even returned the salute to their centurion, who was of commoner origin.

Their centurion clearly hadn't expected the prince to return the greeting.

The burly man was flushed with excitement, his hand trembling slightly on his military knife, as if he had just won an epic victory and was standing on the stage awaiting his award.

The prince was busy and did not stay here.

The gentleman nodded to the guard beside him, then turned and left, holding the dragon cub in his arms.

Watching the gentleman leave, Raman was filled with pride, and in the following training sessions, he pushed the lever so hard it was smoking.

Although he couldn't serve the Grand Duke on the battlefield, nor carve out a forest for himself with his rifle, he, a nobody, can stand here and demonstrate the bravery of the Campbellians to His Highness the Prince...

He thought that he must have helped His Majesty the Grand Duke in some way.

...

Roland City, the capital of the Kingdom of Ryan.

This is a land city without sea breezes or a port, with only a wide, flowing river meandering past the edge of the city.

This city is not as wealthy as Thunder City, but it is large enough to gather the population and wealth of the entire Kingdom of Ryan.

Well-dressed citizens walked along the long, stone-paved street, while the clatter of horses' hooves urged merchants from all directions to carry their cargo, unloaded from the rushing river, to the bustling market. From the riverside taverns, one could faintly hear the songs of wandering poets.

The houses, lined up one after another, resembled subjects prostrating themselves on the ground, surrounding the castle situated on the hill.

That was the castle of the Devalo family, and also the royal palace of King Theodore.

Deep within the palace, Theoden de Vallout, leaning back on his throne, held up a silver coin and examined it closely.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the high window, illuminating the gleaming lion emblem of the Devalo family, causing the old king to momentarily lose himself in thought.

This was the first time he had ever touched the silver coins he had printed himself, and to be honest, they were quite worn.

But surely it shouldn't be ridiculed as "Ryan's Iron Sheet"?

That was news he'd heard from his spies; apparently, several strange things had happened in his capital recently.

One possibility is that an unseen hand is aggressively buying up silver coins in the market, regardless of the type of silver coin, at a ratio higher than 1:100.

The highest reportedly reached 1:120. Even if the king was completely out of touch with reality, he would think these guys had something wrong with their brains.

The second matter didn't occur in the capital, but rather came from the neighboring duchy. A merchant from there brought news from Thunder City.

It is said that prices there have skyrocketed and the currency is in chaos.

Copper coins, in particular, could buy almost nothing except bread subsidized by Edward, unless one had to endure even higher prices.

"What...what is this guy trying to do?" Theodore muttered to himself, his withered index finger rubbing the edge of the silver coin, making a slight crunching sound.

To be honest, the threat of chaos was not enough to worry him, just as there are always heroes to deal with evil dragons. And even if the sky were to fall, the empire would not turn a blind eye; at most, some rootless creatures would die.

However, the Campbell family is different.

They, like the Devallo family, are of holy lineage, and Edward's ambition is already blatantly aimed at the crown on his head.

Others might not see it, but he saw it clearly.

Not all kings have to claim the title of king. A grand duke can also call himself Your Majesty. As long as he bribes the pawns around him, he will be imprisoned in this small palace and unable to make a sound.

This time, however, Theodore really couldn't understand it.

The silver coins issued by the Kingdom of Ryan became more expensive, and could be exchanged for more copper coins. By all accounts, this was a fantastic opportunity for him.

Although the spies said that gold coins had become more expensive, his treasury had the most gold coins in the entire kingdom, so wasn't that a good thing?

Silver coins were a tool used by the king to exploit his subjects; what has been devalued now are the copper coins privately minted by the minor nobles.

Of course, the nobles also suffered no losses.

After all, they wouldn't hoard the copper coins they minted themselves; it seems the only ones who would suffer are the noisy, unruly commoners outside the palace.

Theodore was completely baffled.

This looks more like a suicide attempt by the Duchy of Campbell, whose citizens should be much wealthier, and everyone knows that's Edward's base of support.

He has already offended three counts of the duchy, and the northern vassals have joined forces with the Knights of the Trident to form a faction against him.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the study door.

His Minister of Economy, Lord Wickton Westley, entered.

"His Majesty."

Theodore's brow relaxed slightly as he hid the silver coin in his palm, instinctively not wanting his servants to see him playing with this frivolous object.

"My dear minister, what is it?"

Baron Wickton bowed respectfully; the lean, wiry middle-aged man wore a deep look of worry on his face.

“Strange things have been happening in the capital lately. The amount of firewood and salt transported from the lower reaches of the Benliu River to the capital is half of what it used to be, and a huge amount of copper coins have appeared in our market out of nowhere. Citizens have to pay twice the price of necessities as in previous years. Some people have gathered outside the government hall to complain that the price of firewood and salt has risen too fast and many families may not be able to survive the winter.”

Theodore listened expressionlessly.

“I heard that cotton clothing is very cheap in the Principality of Campbell. They can just use less fuel and wear more clothes.”

"But... even if it's cheap, not everyone can afford it. According to my investigation, many people in the suburbs of the capital only earn 800 copper coins a month. They can't possibly spend all that money to buy cotton-padded clothes."

"What about coal in the Kingdom of Rhodes? If they can't afford firewood, they can just use coal."

"That's how it is... I've noticed that some wealthy people in the city have chosen to use coal instead of firewood, but what about those who already use coal? Roland City doesn't have a seaport, and the little coal imported from the northern trade route is far from enough to solve our immediate problem. Soon, coal will rise to the same price as firewood."

Observing the king's expression, Wickton cautiously offered a suggestion: "Perhaps... we should order, for example, that the lords around the capital lift the winter logging restrictions in order to stabilize prices."

People living by the sea burn coal, while those not living by the sea burn wood. This is common knowledge on the continent of Os, and he believed the king was aware of it as well.

After hearing this, Theodore's cloudy eyes twitched, but instead of showing the seriousness that Baron Wickton had expected, he revealed a hint of fatigue.

“Lord Wickton, you are the Secretary of State for Economic Affairs, you know more about this than I do. Now that you have discovered the problem, this matter will be left to you to handle.”

Wickton was taken aback.

He was a minor baron, and although he was above all others in the eyes of the common people, how could he possibly command those earls and dukes who held fiefdoms?

"Your Majesty, but..."

"Take my instructions to those nobles and tell them to open up their forests. Tell them it's my order."

It's just issuing an order.

Look, he's gone.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty..."

Seeing that Baron Wickton still wanted to say something, Theodore's voice became more impatient.

"Is that not enough? Then take my butler, Skeller, with you and have him cooperate with you."

“Your Majesty! Your Mr. Sclair is keeping an eye on Irene in the Twilight Province, as well as the envoys from the Academy and the people from the Court of Justice, and we…” Wickton couldn’t help but use a slightly heavier tone, though he quickly softened it carefully.

He was genuinely getting anxious.

However, the king remained unmoved, merely waving his hand wearily, as if those few words had exhausted all his energy for the day.

"Then let's wait until he gets back. That's enough. Although I care about them, I'm also very busy... Don't bother me with such a small matter."

By the time Mr. Skeller returns... I'm afraid winter will be over.

Wickton sighed inwardly, but ultimately withdrew respectfully.

The king always liked to do this kind of thing.

He sent the baron to manage the earl who was beyond his control, then sent the out-of-control peasants to fight the arrogant and extravagant lord, and finally dragged the court into dealing with the peasants who had gone too far.

The feudal order was like building blocks in his hands, manipulated to its fullest extent by this politically astute king. Perhaps, apart from the throne, there was nothing in this world that he cared about.

Including Saint Sis.

For him, it was just a tool.

...

As Theodore watched Baron Wickton leave, the drowsiness and confusion in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a playful smile.

He really doesn't care much.

If the citizens are poor, they can simply leave his city of Roland and become serfs in the province of Twilight. If they can't go that far, they can attach themselves to nobles on suburban estates.

He felt that there were too many "lower-class people" in Roland City.

These peasants flooded into the capital, driving up the price of food and making the air stink. It would be better for them to go out and farm.

To make matters worse, he had taken a stroll along the riverbank on a whim, and the fishmonger squatting on the ground didn't even recognize his face as the king!

These utterly disrespectful fellows just annoyed him.

Now that there's an unseen hand helping him sweep up the trash in front of his house, why wouldn't he be happy to do it?

It's best for them to go on their own.

After all, Theodore still had his pride; he couldn't very well let the guards throw them out like a spoiled brat—that would be too undignified.

More pressing concerns were at his disposal than whether the citizens of Roland City could afford firewood.

He flicked his thumb, tossing the silver coin in his hand into the fireplace not far away, and sneered to himself as he watched the flickering yellow and green flames in the fireplace.

"...I'd like to see what tricks you're up to."

The term "Lyan Iron Sheet" is undoubtedly a slander. The mint of the Kingdom of Ryan mainly uses copper and some special alchemical minerals for adulteration.

Adding iron was something barons did when minting copper coins.

If Edward intended to challenge his authority in this way, then it can only be said that the young Grand Duke was still a bit naive.

No matter how he used the merchants' mouths to slander the authority of the Kingdom of Ryan, he could not change the fact that Ryan silver coins remained strong; it seemed that only the Duchy of Campbell itself was dying.

Soon that guy will realize that the crown is made of human heads, and if you want to take it from him, you have to exchange it for human heads!

At this moment, a figure as light as black smoke appeared silently in his palace and knelt down respectfully on one knee.

"Your Majesty, a letter has arrived from the Earl of North Creek Valley."

The voice was low and hoarse, like a broken, withered branch.

Theodore said calmly.

"Bring it here."

"yes."

The trusted aide, who had been kneeling on one knee, slowly rose and respectfully presented a sealed letter with sealing wax to His Majesty before nodding and withdrawing.

Theodore opened the letter, glanced at it, and a bright smile gradually appeared on his face. Then he crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the fireplace.

Count Derek is about to make his move.

He did not reveal the timing of the uprising, but clearly told him in the letter—[Change will come in winter, and the Campbellans are ready to welcome the new spring.]

A relieved smile appeared on the old king's face, and the light from the fireplace replaced the gradually setting sun, illuminating his dim eyes.

"There are still more good people than bad."

(End of this chapter)