Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude

Once the criticisms began, the denunciations of the merchants grew louder.

Fergus shook his head, clearing his thoughts and prepared to speak up fairly for the merchants.

“Gentlemen, while many of them do take advantage of opportunities, we cannot do without them. Without merchants, where would we buy foreign goods from, and to whom would we sell the products of our own estates?”

“Lord Fergus makes a fair point,” said the host of the banquet, old Lord Valen, stroking his Fu Manchu mustache.

“However, even so, ultimately it is us estate holders who feed the world. Land and food are the very foundation upon which we, and indeed all the people of our continent, establish our lives and livelihoods! Those sitting here who are around my age should have experienced famine, right?”

Lord Valen’s words reminded people of the great famine that had ravaged the Kingdom of Ordo decades ago. The younger generation was fortunate, having only heard tales from their elders, but the older folk showed traces of dread in their eyes.

It was a truly grim time, with starvation dead littering the ground and people collapsing while walking, never to rise again. In some areas, there were even terrifying rumors of cannibalism. During such a severe famine, no amount of wealth could buy you food, and those with grain in their homes wouldn’t trade even for gold or silver.

“Yes, indeed, old Lord Valen is right. Food is the true capital upon which people’s lives are built.”

Suddenly, someone in the crowd began to complain, “We toil in the fields to produce food, yet these merchants are undermining us! Have we forgotten what happened last year? The Lord proposed the formation of some ‘Customs Union’, looking to reduce or even abolish tariffs on passing goods, with grain being the major concern. Good heavens, this… this… this is too dreadful!”

This comment drove everyone’s emotions to a peak.

“There’s no need to wonder! It must be those merchants’ doing!”

“Yes, they must have beguiled Lord Grayman.”

Eldo was visibly agitated, banging the table in front of him as if he had suffered a great injustice, “This is not just undermining us, this is undermining our Lord, undermining the whole of Alda.”

Despite the proliferation of various agricultural machines, as of last year, Alda’s food production did not have an edge over other more fertile regions, such as the Ferdinand family’s domains. Without tariffs, the consequences were too dire to even consider—at least in the eyes of these estate owners.

But for the money-eyed merchants, it meant they could purchase grain from abroad at a lower cost.

Ah, these heartless maggots, using such despicable tactics to harm their own kindred from Alda.

“Surely, they must have whispered slander into Lord Grayman’s ear, and the Lord, lacking experience, fell for their tricks unwittingly.”

“What Customs Union? It’s just a tool for them to line their pockets.”

As the conversation continued, the crowd once again felt fortunate.

“Thank goodness we banded together to oppose the matter and didn’t let the merchants’ vile plan succeed.”

“That’s right, I remember it was old Lord Valen who led us. Let’s toast to him!”

“To Lord Valen!”

The banquet’s host, old Lord Valen, without demur, accepted the toast from everyone.

“Lord Grayman is surrounded by treacherous people!”

Old Valen downed a full glass, his complexion growing even more ruddy, then spoke those words with profound dismay.

Upon hearing this, Fergus became tense. As a retainer of the Grayman family, he cared deeply about his lord.

Treacherous people? Impossible, Alda had just won a resounding victory in a tough battle against the formidable Kent family, increasing their prestige greatly. How could they win a battle if the Lord was surrounded by treacherous people?

“How could there not be?”

Old Lord Valen continued with heartfelt distress, “Just think about it, that Hansel Abbott is not a good man! I bet none of us here have been spared from his exploitation over these past two years?”

“The integration of farmland by the Lord was meant to be a good policy, but it was utterly perverted by that Southerner!”

Old Valen’s remarks stirred the memories of those present of the times they felt fleeced by Hansel, as almost all of them had been guilty of encroaching on public lands. Being caught out during the surveys led by Hansel as the head of the Department of Agriculture, they had to either relinquish the lands and pay fines or spend several times more money to purchase the fields their families had tilled for generations.

The crowd began to grumble about their grievances.

“Abbott, he’s nothing but a skinflayer! Anyone he sets his sights on is doomed.”

“That conniving individual must have pocketed the fines himself!”

“These officials from the south, none of them are up to any good!” someone in the group started to generalize the resentment.

“That dense, big-eyed Chief Secretary, that Bern or whatever his name is, probably isn’t any good either!”

A person, indignant, stood up and waved his arms, saying, “I saw it myself in Port Fran, cart after cart of grain! And all sorts of other goods, just like that, being shipped off on sailboats to the south!”

“It must be those Southerners sending supplies to the capital, the traitorous dogs. They draw sustenance from Lord Grayman, but their loyalty is not to our Lord. Where in the world do you find loyalty that supersedes its rightful hierarchy?”

“Black-hearted maggots, crawled up from Crystal Shine Fortress’ sewers!”

“They’re a bunch of parasites, and if left unchecked, they will eventually hollow out the entirety of Alda.”

“Occupying the toilet but doing nothing, the Administration Council has filled many important positions with these southern rats, and have caused so much trouble.”

“Those positions should instead be held by our hometown brethren. Oh my Lord… ah, let’s not talk about it.”

Someone sighed deeply, “With traitors within and schemers without, I fear for the future of Alda…”

Before he could finish, he clamped his hand over his own mouth.

However, the atmosphere in the hall had already shifted; it had started with everyone extolling the Lord’s wisdom, and now Alda, in their mouths, was beset with internal and external troubles, on the verge of subversion by villains.

Even Fergus found himself caught up in the prevailing mood.

The Customs Union – he too was opposed to it. And those foreigners serving in important positions in the Administration Council, he disliked them as well.

The Lord couldn’t truly be surrounded by treacherous people, could he?

He resolved that he must find time to return to Lakeheart Town to see for himself, and to thoroughly inquire with his old friends.

The banquet host, old Lord Valen’s words had struck a chord with him.

“Only we, the landholders, are truly the foundation of the Lord and Alda! We must guard the Count from being misled by treacherous officials and villains.”

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