"The future of a race cannot depend on just one or two heroes; it must be built upon a system that allows all its people to utilize their talents."
On the carriage ride back to Wasser Fief, Hoederer sat bolt upright, chewing over this sentence again and again in his mind.
Hoederer had drifted for half his life, always searching for an answer—where did the future of the Sarkaz truly lie?
He had charged into battle for Theresis and worked tirelessly for Theresia.
He held a certain degree of approval for the ideals of both royals, and like the vast majority of Sarkaz, he believed that only the two of them could save their people.
But he had never expected that this foreigner, this young Leithanian, could see the situation on Terra with such clarity.
And had subtly pinpointed the crux of the Sarkaz's predicament.
'A system that allows all its people to utilize their talents...'
Thinking of Kazdel's current state, Hoederer shook his head bitterly, closed his eyes, and leaned against the carriage wall.
The carriage entered Eisenwald, the capital of Wasser Fief.
The people had gathered spontaneously along the streets. When they saw the familiar hammer and sickle flag, the cheers that erupted were loud enough to nearly overturn the entire city.
Lacey did not linger in the cheers; the convoy drove straight towards the former Elector's Tower.
In the Tower's courtyard, three hundred Sarkaz mercenaries were assembled and ready to depart.
Hoederer finished counting the final payment delivered by Gertrude, and the heavy chests were loaded onto the carriages.
"Lord Lacey."
Hoederer walked up to Lacey, no longer using the title "employer."
"This has been a pleasant partnership. The warriors of Kazdel respect the strong, but they respect the wise even more."
He paused, then said in a solemn tone, "If you have need of us in the future, your friends in Kazdel will always be ready to listen."
"That day will come," Lacey said with a smile, shaking his hand.
W stretched lazily nearby and sauntered over with a grin. "Hey, great thinker, next time you've got some fun business like overthrowing an Elector, don't forget to call me!"
"As for the pay... I can give you a 20% discount!"
After speaking, she made a face at Taylor and nimbly hopped onto a carriage.
The convoy slowly started moving, leaving the city that had just welcomed its new master.
After seeing off the mercenaries, Lacey didn't take a moment's rest.
He turned to face his core team—Taylor, Serafina, Gertrude, and Arturia, who had been following silently with a somewhat dazed look in her eyes.
"Let's go. We have a lot of work to do."
The throne room, where Otto Gladstone once held his lavish banquets, was now completely empty.
Before the floor-to-ceiling windows, there was only a long wooden table and a few simple chairs.
Lacey stood at the head of the table, a map of Leithanien behind him.
"Everyone!" His voice echoed in the spacious hall.
"As of today, the era of the old nobility in Wasser Fief has come to a definitive end!"
"But an end is merely a beginning."
He looked around at them.
"We cannot be satisfied with merely overthrowing a tyrant. What is more important is to establish an entirely new order."
"We will forge Wasser Fief into a model region, a beacon for all the oppressed people of Leithanien to see!"
"I declare that, with 'My Struggle' as our fundamental guide, the Workers' Party will enter a phase of total governance, and we will establish a new organizational structure."
He picked up a wooden pointer and gestured to the map behind him.
"Therefore, I have decided to establish nine core departments under the Workers' Party United Committee!"
Everyone held their breath.
This was, without a doubt, the rewarding of merit.
"Taylor!"
"Here!" Taylor stepped forward.
"I appoint you Minister of the Workers' Party Combat Department!" Lacey's voice was firm and resonant.
"Your mission is to expand and reorganize the Workers' Picket Team, forging it into a modern army with iron discipline, ever victorious in battle!"
"To defend Wasser Fief, defend the people, and defend the hard-won fruits of our victory!"
Fire ignited in Taylor's eyes. He thumped his chest hard, producing a dull thud. "I guarantee the mission will be accomplished!"
"Serafina!"
"I am here, Lacey," Serafina said, stepping forward with a smile.
"I appoint you to oversee the External Liaison Department, responsible for communicating and negotiating with other powers in Leithanien, and even other nations," Lacey said, looking at her.
"I need you to make our voice heard throughout all of Terra."
"It is my honor." Serafina's smile remained gentle, but her eyes held the weight of a new, profound responsibility.
Next, Lacey's gaze turned to Gertrude.
The heart of this former noblewoman, who had always craved power, began to beat traitorously fast.
"Gertrude Strollo."
"Yes." Gertrude struggled to keep her voice steady.
"I appoint you to oversee the Propaganda Department and the Intelligence Department."
"You will need to spread the ideology of the Workers' Party and the principles of 'My Struggle' to every corner of Wasser Fief, and indeed Leithanien, until it is etched into the hearts of the people."
"As for intelligence, I don't care what methods you use. I only care about results. I need intelligence that is sufficiently accurate."
The corners of Gertrude's mouth slowly curved into a smile.
This was the very power she had dreamed of, the tool she needed to personally entomb her past.
"I promise I will make those parasites of the old era lose sleep and appetite!" Her tone was so cold it made Taylor, standing beside her, tremble.
Finally, Lacey's eyes fell upon Arturia.
The genius cellist had been in a detached state the entire time, as if this meeting that would decide the future of a region had nothing to do with her.
"Arturia."
"Hm?" Arturia looked up as if waking from a dream, her eyes filled with confusion.
"I am appointing you Minister of the Department of Culture."
"Huh?" Arturia was completely stunned.
"The Department... of Culture? What does that do?"
"Support a bunch of court painters and poets to sing praises all day? I won't do that."
Her bluntness drew a soft chuckle from Gertrude.
Lacey laughed as well. He walked over to Arturia and said gently, "No, of course not."
"I don't need songs of praise, and neither do the people. What I need is art that can truly touch the soul."
He lowered his voice. "Arturia, your music has the power to liberate the human heart."
"I want you to compose songs of our own, songs that fill the miners with strength as they work, and make the children in school feel proud of their homeland."
"I want you to organize theater troupes to perform our story—the story of the people's resistance against tyranny—for everyone to see."
"Culture is the adhesive that binds the spirit of a people."
"I want you to use your art to forge a new soul for the reborn Wasser Fief. Can you do that?"
Arturia looked into Lacey's sincere eyes and nodded, only half-understanding.
"I... I'll try."
Lacey nodded in satisfaction and stepped back to the map.
"The Department of Agriculture, Department of Industry, Department of Health and Education, Department of Taxation, Department of Law... these departments will also be established in due course."
"The reconstruction of Wasser Fief begins now!"
The meeting concluded, and everyone departed, bearing the heavy weight of their new missions.
Only Lacey remained in the throne room.
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked down at the brilliantly lit city below.
From a failed art student to an Elector holding the lives of tens of thousands in his hands, all in just one short year.
The trajectory of his life in this simulation had been completely altered.
But this was far from enough.
Wasser Fief was just the beginning.
What he wanted was to see that hammer and sickle flag planted on every inch of Leithanian soil.
He picked up a pen and, on a new document, wrote the first line.
Decree No. 1 of the Wasser Fief Electorate Government: Regulations Regarding Land and Tax Reform.
The cornerstone of a new era was being laid by his own hand.
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