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Chapter 74 - Type-Moon: The Human Love Simulator [74]

Even the role of Supreme Commander, the highest military authority, had gone to an outsider. It was clear how few true Romans remained within the ranks.

Ankus held back, though fury still simmered beneath his expression. "Lord Tiberius has already promised his soldiers their pay. If Rome doesn't come up with the funds, they'll surely revolt and could even pillage the city."

"Then don't let those rebels inside Rome!" Orestes replied coldly. "Tiberius can keep his 'horde of barbarians' camped outside. They can fend off the Huns from there."

"Orestes! Do you understand what you're saying?"

Ankus' eyes were red with anger. "Commander Tiberius received the Augustus' letter and yours. He immediately abandoned the fortune he'd amassed in Britannia and set aside a grand campaign that would have devastated Britannia…"

"…and rushed here day and night…"

"And now you want us to camp outside the city walls? Are you treating us like enemies?"

"Hmph! Because that's precisely what they are!" Orestes sneered. "Rome has no money. Tiberius can't keep his promises. Those sixty thousand men are no longer soldiers—they're a mob of barbarians waiting to loot the city."

Ankus bristled, his words sharp and unrestrained. "Orestes! You're a barbarian yourself. What right do you have to speak to me this way? What right do you have to speak for Augustus?"

His words cut deep, even the Augustus Nepos felt it was a step too far. "Ankus, enough!"

Orestes' face turned icy, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto Ankus. "In that case, let's hear it directly from the 'mighty Augustus,' then, shall we?"

"What's left of Rome's treasury can't even pay the soldiers their salaries," Orestes continued, his tone mocking. "If it weren't for me—a mere barbarian—providing funds, Rome's army would have collapsed long ago. I wonder if Augustus is willing to let those 'Roman soldiers' enter the city."

With that, Orestes left, his robes swirling behind him as he strode away, leaving Nepos and Ankus staring at each other in silence.

At last, Nepos sighed, "Ankus, you were too rash. We still need to rely on Orestes and his Germanic soldiers. Don't provoke him again."

That was the end of it; there would be no real punishment. After all, Ankus was a pure-blooded Roman, and as Emperor, Nepos naturally favored him. Besides, Ankus was a legion commander and a confidant of Tiberius. With Tiberius and his sixty thousand strong nearly at Rome's gates, these soldiers represented Rome's final hope.

"Besides, Orestes is right. If Rome can't pay, we can't let them into the city. They would pillage it without a second thought."

"Citizens? You mean the citizens who don't enlist to defend Rome?" Ankus snorted. "At this point, what use are the so-called citizens? Whoever can defend Rome is a Roman citizen!"

Ankus was a staunch pragmatist, though sadly his words did not sway Nepos.

As Western Rome's Augustus, Nepos was too prideful to disregard his citizens' safety and invite barbaric pillaging.

It was like the Emperor Chongzhen who, despite begging his court nobles countless times to donate funds to save the state, refused to seize their wealth. The result was that when Li Zicheng eventually sacked Beijing, he uncovered over seventy million taels of silver.

Rome had wealth. It was the Emperor of Rome who had none.

---

"Forming a mage regiment isn't as complicated as establishing a knights' order. You just have to get the fairy mages to cast a simple offensive spell at the same time, like a fireball…"

Before Kaelar stood the chiefs of the fairy clans. Despite building their own city and leaving their forest homes, the fairies still retained their primitive clan system.

They followed their clan chiefs, who, in turn, obeyed Kaelar as their Fairy King.

Kaelar had set about reforming their society. Fairies didn't change systems as readily as humans, but they accepted new ideas quickly. They soon adapted to a feudal system.

Unlike humans, fairies lacked ambition for power. Their worldview was based on survival of the fittest, so the clan chiefs scarcely grasped the difference between clan leadership and government positions.

The Fairy King and King Arthur allowed them to keep their authority over the fairies, so they continued leading as they always had. The only difference was that their descendants could not inherit their roles, though this didn't trouble them much.

Fairies could live long lives and didn't place as much emotional investment in their children as short-lived races did. They cared more for their clans than for their descendants.

In other words, as long as the clan thrived, it didn't matter who led it. If fairies had developed family dynasties, they wouldn't still be in a clan system.

The fairies cheerfully accepted Arthur's reforms, transitioning smoothly from primitive clans to a feudal structure. This swift acceptance dismayed the nobles who had hoped to incite a fairy rebellion.

Have some dignity, fairies! Your power has been curtailed by Arthur!

Fairies: Huh? What's curtailing power?

Mm, grilled meat is delicious. Let's eat first and talk later!

Kaelar felt at ease with these unambitious fairies who only wanted enough to eat and a place to live. Fewer than a hundred thousand had moved to New Avalon so far, but their mage population was remarkably high.

Kaelar even selected ten thousand as a dedicated mage regiment. Such a well-supplied mage corps could not be rivaled, not even by Rome, which had lost much of its magical tradition, leaving only remnants from Solomon, the Mage King, and Christianity.

Arthur approached Kaelar with news. "Kaelar, the Romans have retreated. Gawain followed the rebel lords' trail and raided their camp. Though the Romans were gone, they left behind gold and supplies they couldn't carry."

Kaelar thought for a moment. "It seems Tiberius intended to leave those supplies for the rebel lords; that's why he didn't burn them."

Arthur beamed. "I thought the same! Well, now all that loot belongs to us, so the royal treasury won't need to fund the noble stipends this year."

"Kaelar, even with your system of title inheritance by rank reduction, the number of nobles continues to grow with each victory."

Arthur pondered aloud, "Is there a way to reduce the number of titleholders?"

"Tax fraud, rebellion, revocation of titles for disloyalty, the Patronage Order…" Kaelar rattled off options. "Take the Patronage Order: split a high-rank title into multiple lower-rank titles for the heirs—however many children the noble has, that many divisions."

"In a few generations, all nobles become commoners."

"If that's too slow, use the revocation method—strip a title for disloyalty."

Kaelar offered his advice without even looking up, referencing strategies that ancient tacticians had perfected. They were unstoppable tools for rulers.

"As for rebellion, that's even simpler. The king declares you a rebel, and you're a rebel. But I'd advise against it; too risky, likely to incite backlash and require war."

"Tax fraud is an option too. Encourage citizens to report nobles. Give informants half of the noble's wealth. It's brutal and only works as a one-time shock tactic, though."

"Thank you, Kaelar." Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. "I was worried about the rising noble count and funding the stipends—after all, the treasury supports every noble."

A cold gleam passed through Arthur's verdant gaze. "There are so many ways… I suppose we can keep the kingdom's finances in line."

Kaelar, still scribbling, didn't notice the change in Arthur. She'd always appeared the same to him, but Gawain, Lancelot, and the other Round Table knights had grown increasingly reserved in her presence.

They were no longer inclined to offer frank advice, though, to be fair, Arthur never listened. Kaelar remained her only advisor.

The Star-Forged Holy Sword, the Sword of Promised Victory, inevitably took its toll on the heart of its bearer.

Just then, Arthur noticed Kaelar's pen at work and asked, "What are you writing? You've been ignoring me…"

"Ah, just policies for governance," Kaelar replied, handing her one of the documents. "This one covers household levies, standardized taxes for nobles, and the state monopoly on salt, iron, and grain—policies that could last for two thousand years."

"I'm also drafting currency laws, so Britannia can issue its own gold coins, a step toward full sovereignty."

These were powerful centralizing strategies used by the most successful emperors of ancient dynasties, ideal for consolidating power.

In a world without the constraints of historical limitations, Kaelar could accelerate reforms unchecked. With Arthur and Kaelar's overwhelming power, they could shatter and rebuild systems with little opposition.

"Without Roman supplies or training in agriculture, the rebels' resources will run out soon," Arthur said, stretching with a satisfied smile. "Those pigheaded nobles plagued me for years, but they're all dealt with now."

"The golden age of Britain is lost, but by perfecting governance and resource allocation, we'll give the people lives rivaling those of the Age of Gods."

"I'm leading this final battle, Kaelar," Arthur declared. "You stay here to handle logistics."

"No, I'll go with you." Kaelar set down his pen and looked at her. "This time, I'll join you."

"Really, Kaelar? But… why?"

"I've spent years building the legal system and refining the administrative structure. I had to stay behind and manage the supply lines."

"But now, I don't need to. I've trained Agravain as a logistics officer. Besides, I could use a break."

Kaelar smiled, "I considered it last year, but I anticipated the Roman legion would turn desperate and destroy Britain. I'd planned a little surprise for Tiberius…"

"Though it's a pity, Rome's downfall was so rapid that Tiberius had to withdraw before I could make use of it."

Kaelar nodded. "No bloodshed necessary."

"With Tiberius gone, I can dismiss those contingency plans and finally watch a battle up close."

"Well, if you're coming, let's go," Arthur nodded. "Don't worry; I'll uphold the teachings of mercy you've instilled in me."

"Britons are my people, whether Celt, fairy, or Saxon. Even Hengist managed to unite the Angles and Saxons; surely I, Arthur, can do as much."

Fun fact, Hengist wasn't even Anglo or Saxon. He was a Jute, the smallest of the four Germanic tribes. Yet he created the term "Anglo-Saxon" right here in Britannia, a testament to his cunning.

Kaelar nodded approvingly. "Yes, Arthur, you have grown."

"Mercy is essential. When peace is possible, avoid bloodshed; life is precious."

"Kaelar, I've taken all you taught me to heart."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sight of a familiar figure crouched by the road, petting a fluffy white cat—Merlin, the elusive and troublesome magus of flowers.

Known for her antics and indifference, Merlin had become Camelot's court mage more for political peace with the Druids than for any need of her advice. Unlike King Uther, who constantly asked Merlin for prophecies, Arthur seldom consulted her at all.

Arthur scowled and addressed Merlin coolly. "Court Mage, what brings you here? If you have a new prophecy, couldn't you have it conveyed instead of blocking the road?"

"Perhaps King Uther fell for such tricks, but I, Arthur, value efficiency."

"My dear Arthur!" Merlin put on an exaggeratedly wounded expression, clutching her chest dramatically. "I'm here for efficiency's sake—since I have prophecies for both you and Kaelar!"

She straightened, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "If I went to you, Kaelar would be summoned anyway, so I came directly to save time."

"Enough games, Merlin," Kaelar said, stopping Arthur from speaking further. "What is this prophecy?"

Merlin tilted her head with a mischievous grin. "The prophecy is as follows: Arthur, do not bring Kaelar with you. If he goes with you, your dearest one shall turn against you!"

"And Kaelar, do not venture to the front lines with Arthur, lest you find that fate cannot be changed and that a true king must always stand alone!"

"Oh, and one more thing, Kaelar. Your laws have a flaw. One day, you will regret enacting them."

With a flurry of flowers, the jester departed, leaving nothing but petals in her wake—a retreat as showy as Morgan's raven's exit.

---

T/N: And so it begins...

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