Chapter 502 The King Who Was Skilled at Extinguishing Fires Showed Compassion for His People
Since the end of that grand mourning ceremony, King Theodore's reputation for loving his people spread like a spring breeze throughout the city of Roland.
The citizens in taverns and churches praised His Majesty, all moved to tears by his great sacrifice of observing a week of vegetarianism for the deceased commoners.
However, no one noticed that the King's Castle kitchen seemed to be missing two honest head chefs. Just as no one had ever carefully counted how many people had died in the Twilight Province.
In short, this reputation for "benevolence" even crossed the border and reached the neighboring homes.
Newcastle, a merchant from Thunder City, keenly sensed the enormous business opportunity hidden within and brought with him a valuable item from Thunder City—a manual fire pump.
He firmly believed that since His Majesty the King was so considerate of his people, even willing to fast for a week for the dead, he would certainly not be stingy with gold coins for such an advanced fire extinguisher.
Newcastle was a man of action and also well-versed in court etiquette.
He spent ten thousand gold coins, bribing the governor of Roland, court officials, and even relatives of the king's lover, finally securing a precious opportunity for his product to be displayed before the king.
The royal court in Roland was solemn and imposing, with a somber atmosphere.
The bright red fire pump that Newcastle brought was placed in the center of the marble floor, its brass pipes gleaming in the candlelight, a stark contrast to the cold marble columns around it.
Newcastle took a deep breath, suppressing his excitement, and spoke to His Majesty, who was leaning on the throne.
"Your Majesty! It is an honor to be received by you. I am Newcastle from the Duchy of Campbell. Please allow me to introduce you to this revolutionary product from Thunder City! We call it—the manual fire pump! Its efficiency is sixty times that of manual labor..."
Theodore watched Newcastle's performance with great interest, but after listening for a while, a hint of drowsiness appeared on his aging face.
He yawned.
Upon seeing the king's yawn, the nobleman who was guiding Newcastle coughed lightly to remind him of the time.
Upon seeing this, Newcastle immediately stopped his speech and began directing his servants to operate the strangely shaped machine.
Amid the curious gazes of the nobles, Newcastle's servant laboriously pressed down on the levers on both sides.
As the cylinder was pumped in, a powerful jet of water shot out from the copper nozzle, precisely extinguishing the fire burning in the distance.
Some people showed expressions of surprise, and some even exclaimed in surprise.
But that's all.
Their surprise was more like watching an unexpected circus performance, since water spraying methods other than magic are indeed quite rare.
As for being exciting, it's not quite there yet.
"What an interesting thing! Is this yet another new toy invented by the Campbellians?"
"It wasn't recently. I went to Thunder City more than ten years ago, and I remember that this thing seemed to exist back then."
"It doesn't look as good as a magic scroll."
"Haha, you're absolutely right."
Newcastle, however, failed to notice the lack of interest hidden behind the surprise, completely absorbed in his own world.
"Your Majesty! Did you see that?"
His voice was high-pitched with excitement, and he opened his arms as if embracing a brighter future.
"It only needs six well-trained firefighters to do the work of sixty people carrying buckets of water! Its water jets can easily reach over rooftops without the need for ladders!"
"Most importantly, it will bring unparalleled efficiency! A fire brigade can move quickly along the streets without mobilizing the entire chaotic population! As long as you deploy it in the corners of the streets, they can suppress the fire almost immediately after it breaks out!"
"I promise you, Your Majesty! With this, the tragedy of an entire city burning down will never happen again in Roland! It will save countless lives and property, and your wisdom will be recorded in history!"
Newcastle spoke with great passion and enthusiasm, trying to impress the king on the throne with his eloquence.
Roland City has three times the population of Thunder City. If he can open up the market for fire pumps here, the profits will be unimaginable!
However, Theodore, who was sitting there, seemed to be dozing off.
He rested his chin on one hand, his eyelids drooping, and he yawned from time to time.
He had no interest in how the machine sprayed water or how far it could spray. To him, it was nothing more than a charade interspersed among his daily tasks.
Of course, he admitted that the clown from Campbell performed very well.
Before Newcastle could finish speaking, Theodore raised his hand to interrupt him.
“That… businessman from Campbell.”
Newcastle immediately fell silent, bowed his head, and awaited His Majesty's final verdict on the fate of his product.
“Your idea is excellent.” Theodore slowly sat up straight, his voice still languid from just waking up. “I fully support your creativity; the kingdom certainly needs a safer environment.”
Newcastle's face was about to light up with elation, but it was shattered by the "but" that followed.
“But…” Theodore changed the subject, continuing slowly, “Firefighting is the job of the artisans in each guild. They have made their living from this for generations. The royal family should not interfere with their livelihood. Do you understand what I mean? We are different from you. We cannot compete with the people for profit.”
“But Your Majesty,” Newcastle’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to make a final attempt to persuade the others, “isn’t the safety of the lives and property of the citizens of Roland more important than the livelihoods of those people?”
Did I say no?
Theodore casually interrupted Newcastle, then looked at the speechless Campbell and continued in a tone of someone who had been there before.
"I just want to say that it's not appropriate for the royal family to get involved in this matter. Since this is Campbell's product, you should promote it using Campbell's methods."
"The Campbells' method?" Newcastle still looked bewildered.
Isn't this the Campbellian method?
"Do I need to put it more clearly? Go and start a fire service company." There was a hint of mockery in the king's tone. "If your things are really as useful as you say, the citizens and guilds will naturally buy your services."
A burst of snickering came from below the audience hall, as if they were applauding His Majesty's humor.
As expected of a descendant of the Devalo family, he silenced the cunning Campbell with just one sentence. It was truly satisfying!
While the textile workers of the Duchy of Campbell harbored hatred for the King of the Kingdom of Ryan, the "Twilight Nobles" who had been taken in by Theodore in the court were also naturally hating the duchy that had arrived late.
Moreover, they understand much more than textile workers.
They could understand why Edward made his move at this time, and they also understood what the Northern Rescue Army was after.
Edward is now attempting to unite the nobles of Twilight Province who have not yet fled to form a council to undermine the influence of the royal family. These nobles, who are dependent on the royal family, are the ones whose interests are most severely affected!
Although they could nominally participate in the formation of the Twilight Province Council, they knew very well that if they returned, they would be puppets of those powerful nobles.
It wouldn't make any difference if they stayed here; the king only tolerated the fire in the Twilight Province because he coveted their land and wealth.
After saying that, Theodore turned his gaze away from Newcastle and his oddly shaped fire pump and looked at the Economic Secretary standing to the side.
"Baron Wickerton".
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Wickton immediately stepped forward and bowed humbly.
“This Mr. Newcastle is in your care.” Theodore stood up, straightened his cuffs, and succinctly instructed, “You are responsible for taking care of him and handling the follow-up matters.”
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"You may all step down. That's all for today."
The king yawned and, amidst the respectful farewells of nobles and retainers, left the magnificent audience hall without looking back.
Newcastle stood frozen in place, like a clown who had messed up his performance, his passionate heart rapidly cooling under the mocking gazes of the crowd.
With a last shred of stubbornness, unwilling to give up, he looked around at the nobles who were beginning to leave, trying to find potential collaborators among them.
However, these important figures didn't even bother to glance at him and his miracles, and soon left the audience hall in twos and threes.
At this moment, Baron Wickton, with a polite smile, walked up to the dejected Newcastle.
“Mr. Newcastle, please come with me. We have many follow-up matters to discuss regarding your company.”
Seeing the kind smile on Baron Wickton's face, a glimmer of hope finally rekindled on Newcastle's dejected face.
Although he knew in his heart that this glimmer of hope was probably no better than a straw floating on the water, it was still better than having to immediately accept the cruel reality of losing everything.
After all, ten thousand gold coins were all the money he had.
He was no prince of the empire, and he would never have the chance to see the king again.
...
The heavy doors slammed shut, shutting out the nauseating stench of money from the audience hall.
Whether it was the bewildered face of the Campbell merchant, the mocking expressions of the courtiers, or their obsequious flattery, they were all confined to another world.
For an old king who had watched performances for decades, both the former and the latter were tedious.
The door lock clicked softly, like a switch being turned on.
Theodore was like a different person when he returned to his study.
The drowsy mask, as if hung on a hanger along with his removed robes, had vanished from his face.
At the same time, a dark shadow seemed to seep out from the shadows in the corner of the wall and silently knelt down on one knee.
He was completely shrouded in a gray-brown cloak, his head bowed, not daring to look directly at the king's majesty, just as a shadow on the ground dares not look directly at the sun in the sky.
"His Majesty."
"explain."
Theodore's voice was flat, without a trace of emotional fluctuation.
Then, he strolled leisurely to his desk, rested his scepter against the velvet-trimmed edge, and waited for his servant to report what he was truly interested in.
"It's an urgent report from the Duchy of Campbell..."
The servant's voice was as low and hoarse as ever, and he continued in a humble tone.
"The coup in the winter month has ended, and Duke Edward Campbell has won a great victory. Thanks to the new equipment, the civilian army loyal to him won easily... their speed exceeded our expectations."
Theodore's face remained completely expressionless.
He picked up the glass of black tea on the table, which had long since gone cold, and took a small sip, seemingly unsurprised by the outcome.
The servant carefully observed His Majesty's expression, and seeing no displeasure on the latter's face, he slowly breathed a sigh of relief and continued speaking.
"The Duke of Edward imprisoned all the nobles involved in the coup, including the mastermind Derek, his barons, two other earls, and their vassals. However, we also note that he did not execute anyone, but merely imprisoned them in the dungeons of Campbell Castle. The Duke's actions... seem to be a concession to your authority."
He paused for a moment, then summarized.
"They backed down."
"Back down?"
Theodore savored the intriguing word, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips.
He doesn't think so.
He didn't care about Earl Derek's life or death; he was just one of the pieces on his vast chessboard.
His intervention in the Duchy of Campbell was merely to create enough chaos to distract the young duke from the easily attainable Twilight Province… which was the direct territory of the Devalo family.
To be honest, Edward's choice still surprised him a little.
He put down his teacup, strolled to the bookshelf, and murmured to himself thoughtfully.
"Restraint is much more difficult than indulgence. It seems that our Duke is no ordinary man."
A look of confusion crossed the servant's face; he clearly hadn't grasped the deeper meaning.
Theodore glanced at the intelligence-gathering tool at his knees, and unusually, he became quite talkative.
“Kill them, and their children will rightfully inherit the title, the land and honor will remain with their family, and that will be the end of it. Our Duke is clever; he seems to have guessed my next move and deliberately avoided our trap, choosing instead to take a different path.”
Having and actually owning are two different concepts; he essentially imprisoned the title itself in a dungeon.
Decades later, when all those earls and barons have died in the dungeons, their children will likely inherit only one title.
Given Edward's ambition, he certainly wouldn't be satisfied with simply granting fiefdoms to another group of lords.
Instead, it uses entirely new legal principles to establish a new order for those unclaimed lands.
Theodore's voice gradually took on a cold, approving tone, offering respect to his distant adversary.
"He is using a blunt knife to strip Campbell's old aristocracy of their foundations, along with their dignity, bit by bit. This young duke is indeed far more skillful than his father, who only knows how to use a sword."
It seems his intuition was right.
The problem with the Campbell family is no longer with the family itself, but with the land under their protection that is teeming with a terrible power.
To resolve this issue once and for all, they must act before things escalate to an irreversible point, nipping the foolish grand duke and the ever-growing ambitions of the commoners behind him in the bud.
Theodore stopped and slowly turned the ruby ring on his thumb, which gleamed softly in the candlelight.
He suddenly asked in a tone of great interest.
"I suddenly became curious, how did he deal with his younger brother, that Prince Gerald?"
The knights he sent to the Duchy of Campbell are probably all dead, and he doesn't care about the fate of these pawns.
In contrast, he was more curious about Jerok's fate. That guy had done him a great favor when he surrendered, leaving a glimmer of hope for his family that had started the rebellion.
The servant did not hesitate and answered immediately.
"Your Majesty, Jerok Campbell has been exiled. According to our information, Edward has sent him to a remote island far from the coastline. He has sworn a lifelong vow to spend the rest of his life in a monastery there."
Upon hearing this, Theodore's lips curled into a pleased smile.
exile?
"hehe……"
He finally left the bookshelf that held the kingdom's history, slowly walked back to his desk, picked up the scepter leaning against the table, and sat down again.
His index finger tapped silently on the scepter, as if he were thinking.
The servant, kneeling on one knee, dared not disturb his thoughts, and simply bowed his head respectfully and waited.
After about fifteen minutes, the old king suddenly opened his eyes, a meaningful smile on his face.
"It seems our young Duke is a soft-hearted person. I thought he was like me, indifferent to everything."
Political death is not the same as real death. As long as one does not care about sacred authority, there are plenty of ways to reuse those abandoned claims.
Of course, this requires the cooperation of Jerok himself.
If he doesn't cooperate, it doesn't really matter; the young man's blood has another use.
Edward thought he had everything under control, but he still inadvertently exposed his weakness.
Theodore changed the subject, looking at the servant who was still prostrate on the ground.
A deep, unfathomable malice and coldness welled up in those eagle-like eyes.
“In that case,” he said softly, “we shall help our Duke.”
...
The evening bells rang.
Merchant Newcastle followed Baron Wickton through the corridors to a secluded office in the palace’s backyard.
There was none of the ostentation and oppression found in the audience hall; only rows of towering filing cabinets and the strong smell of ink.
Newcastle suddenly felt a bit of goodwill towards the baron.
His intuition told him that the baron was a man of action.
Wickton gestured for Newcastle to sit down, then instructed a servant to pour tea for the two of them.
“Mr. Newcastle, please try this,” Wickton said with a friendly smile, as if he were welcoming an old friend, without any airs of a baron. “This is tea that His Majesty has bestowed upon me. It is said to be produced in a tea plantation on the southern coast of Whirlpool Island.”
Newcastle sat down awkwardly on the edge of the chair.
He took the teacup, stared at the rising steam in deep thought for a long time, and finally couldn't help but speak.
“Your Excellency, I truly do not understand.” Newcastle placed his teacup on his lap, his face full of confusion. “Why is His Majesty not interested in that fire pump? Roland City has just experienced such a devastating fire, and my equipment could perfectly solve his problem…”
Wickton picked up his teacup, gently blew on the steam, and sighed inwardly.
These Campbell people really don't understand any manners.
Perhaps, as His Majesty said, they have lost their sense of awe under the Grand Duke's leadership.
“Mr. Newcastle, you misunderstand.” His smile remained unchanged. “His Majesty is not uninterested. On the contrary, he is not only interested, but has also pointed you in the right direction. Your problem is that you cannot think of this place as Thunder City, but rather as Glenston Castle… that is also your territory, and if you have done business there, you should understand what I mean.”
Newcastle didn't argue, but humbly leaned forward to ask, "What should I do?"
“It’s simple, just do as the Romans do,” Wickton coaxed. “Although His Majesty said he wanted you to solve problems the way Campbell does, he also hinted at it. He hopes that you will use our methods to solve our problems while running your company.”
Newcastle had no idea that His Majesty Theodore had such a profound implication in any of his words.
But considering that his business still had a glimmer of hope, he asked tentatively.
"You mean I should visit each of those guild leaders one by one? The textile workers' guild, the carpenters' guild, the water carriers' guild... and try to sell my equipment to them?"
He immediately showed a troubled expression.
This is too much trouble.
The guild relationships in Roland City are intricate and deeply intertwined, with countless powerful nobles standing behind them. If he were to bribe them one by one, the expenses would likely far exceed the budget.
In fact, this is not just a problem in the Kingdom of Ryan; cities throughout the Old World have similar issues.
Even in Thunder City, Mayor Lucius was elected by the guild, and the Andes family is the largest of all the families that control the guild.
Here we must mention the history of the continent of Os.
In the early First Age, cities in the Old World were more like gathering places for artisans, and guilds were the tools used by lords to manage these artisans.
The lords collected taxes and imposed corvée labor through guilds, and later also mobilized soldiers from them.
The gathering of people naturally gives rise to diverse needs. Initially, a settlement may only have potters or carpenters, but as someone sells beer there, the settlement will give rise to tavern owners and waitresses engaged in the service industry.
Once someone puts honey into earthenware jars and weaves straw into mats, many similar things will soon be produced.
Over time, as more and more industries emerged, more and more people stopped relying on farmland for a living and started creating value with their own hands, thus giving birth to cities.
In this process, although feudal guilds could not fully match the complex professional ecosystem, they would not disappear from it.
A thousand years have allowed the city to grow and expand, and the guilds that play an important role in it have also grown along with it.
They were no longer just departments that managed artisans; they also used their resources and relationships with nobles to develop other businesses, eventually becoming intertwined with the nobles who held them in their hands, forming a relationship where each had something in it.
It would be virtually impossible to bribe them all; even the king's treasury wouldn't be enough. They were far richer than the factory owners, and far more greedy.
Looking at Newcastle's pained expression, Wickton shook his head with a smile, thinking that the businessman was really too naive.
If all of Campbell's young people are like this, then their nation's fate is probably sealed.
"No, no, that's too slow, too inefficient."
He put down his teacup, crossed his fingers on his knees, and continued in a casual tone, "You don't need to win everyone over. You just need to win over the one most important one."
Newcastle asked nervously.
"who?"
"Sir Skedkin."
Wickton smiled and revealed the name he had prepared beforehand.
“That man is the captain of the Royal Guard. I can introduce you.”
Sir Skedkin, like him, was one of those who received his knighthood from His Majesty the King at the Winter Victory celebration.
One of them was responsible for fighting the fire, and the other for cleaning up the aftermath. It was because of that fire that the two of them forged a deep bond.
After all, without Sir Skadkin's last-minute change of patrol route, there would have been no grand "Winter Victory Celebration".
Wickton finally understood His Majesty's meaning.
His Majesty has never forgotten his contributions. The reward that official bestowed upon him was not a mere medal, but rather presented to him in another form.
This Mr. Newcastle is the one His Majesty bestowed upon him!
Previously, firefighting in Roland City required the cooperation of three forces: the city's defense forces or the royal guards would patrol and discover a fire, the church bells would ring to warn of an impending fire, and then the guild craftsmen would be on their way with buckets of water.
The vast majority of the "fire prevention tax" paid by citizens ended up in the pockets of those guilds, since the latter were the ones who actually put out fires.
However, now, with this advanced fire pump, the kingdom no longer needs to rely on the guild's inefficient power.
They could easily collect this extra tax themselves and do the work themselves.
His Majesty is undoubtedly a wise man. He truly understands the benefits of this new technology and has not rejected it because of prejudice against the Campbellians.
Unfortunately, this Campbell businessman clearly hadn't grasped the concept. His thinking remained at the most basic level—who would buy his fire extinguishers.
It was as if his world would collapse if the royal family didn't buy it.
There's a reason this guy won't get rich; even if he went to Thunder City, he'd still be a sucker.
However, he was still lucky, as the benevolent king introduced him to a true patron, and Baron Wickton happened to be planning to establish his own faction.
After all, he was just a baron, and his fief was a great distance away. It was really "unworthy" for him to sit in the position of minister. The nobles near the capital did not listen to him at all.
If we can leverage His Majesty's trust to gain some benefits and unite a group of people through economic interests, it would be a way to share His Majesty's burdens.
"The captain of the guard?" Newcastle was even more confused. "What's the point of finding him? He's a soldier..."
“Precisely because he is a soldier, Mr. Newcastle,” Wickton interrupted him with a smile, “he is not only a soldier, but also a fire-fighting hero… But that is secondary. What matters is that the King recognizes his abilities, and he is the most suitable person to help you open up your business.”
Seeing that Newcastle still had a lot of questions to ask, Wickton interrupted him and succinctly gave him the answers.
“There is a banquet next week, and I will create an opportunity for you to meet. At that time, you don’t need to say anything extra. Just repeat what you and His Majesty said to Sir Skedkin.”
"Then you must tell him, 'His Majesty has instructed you to establish a fire protection company to be responsible for the fire safety of the entire city of Roland.'"
Newcastle stared at him blankly: "And then?"
He vaguely guessed what Baron Wickton meant, but something still felt off. The King had just said that the monarchy shouldn't compete with the people for profit, so why was the Baron saying it was acceptable?
Are the Royal Guard not considered members of the royal family?
However, looking at the Baron's confident expression, he couldn't decide whether he was being naive or simply not smart enough.
He just wanted to know who he should believe.
He really couldn't tell the difference.
"Then, you can start this company."
Ignoring Newcastle's inconsequential confusion, Baron Wickton leaned back in his chair. He picked up his teacup, his tone calm, as if he had settled a trivial matter.
"The Iron Boots of the Royal Guard will snatch this piece of the pie from those 'overstaffed' guilds for you."
(End of this chapter)
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