Three days later, a plain, unadorned carriage, bearing no family crest, quietly rolled into Eisenwald and stopped at the foot of the Tower.
The door opened, and a portly Meklen Neum stepped out.
He was dressed in expensive, well-tailored fabric but wore no gaudy jewelry; only a signet ring on his finger, representing the Neum family, proclaimed his identity.
This was Leithanien's wealthiest Elector.
Following behind him was a single old butler, as thin as a withered branch.
Lacey did not greet him at the base of the Tower, but waited in the Throne Room.
When Meklen walked into the Throne Room, the first thing he saw was Lacey, standing alone before the floor-to-ceiling window.
"Your Excellency Meklen, welcome to my Wasser Fief," Lacey's voice called out.
Meklen dispensed with the pleasantries, his eyes fixed on Lacey's back.
"Your Excellency Lacey, you have more nerve than I imagined."
"You've turned Wasser Fief, lock, stock, and barrel, into an experimental field for the Workers' Party."
"You take the property of nobles and merchants and distribute it to those commoners. Aren't you afraid of playing with fire and getting burned?"
Lacey slowly turned around, a composed smile on his face.
"Your Excellency Meklen, I'd like to correct one point."
He walked to a table and personally poured Meklen a cup of Victorian black tea.
"I haven't confiscated anyone's property. I call it a 'Special Contribution Fund'."
He pushed the teacup in front of Meklen and continued, "They are not paying for my ambition; they are atoning for their own past greed."
"They have paid with money in exchange for a ticket to continue surviving in the new world. That is all."
"An expensive ticket." Meklen picked up the cup but did not drink, merely staring at the crimson liquid within.
"But worth the price," Lacey said, leaning against the edge of the table.
"As it turns out, most of them are better off now than they were before."
"Take Jeremy Richter, for example. He used to make a hundred thousand gold coins a year by monopolizing the salt trade under Otto's protection, but half of that went to greasing palms, and he was constantly on edge."
"Now, he has the contract to supply construction materials for Wasser Fief's highways."
"In one year, his legally earned profits have exceeded two hundred thousand gold coins, and he can sleep soundly at night."
Lacey looked directly at Meklen. "Because the market has grown larger, Your Excellency Meklen."
"When tens of thousands of commoners have purchasing power, when new factories, roads, and canals spring up, that in itself is an unprecedentedly massive market."
"I may have sliced away a few pieces of the old cake, but I am baking a new one ten times larger."
"For a clever merchant, is that a loss, or a gain?"
Meklen fell silent.
He had to admit that Lacey's line of reasoning struck a precise chord with his own way of thinking.
Everything he had seen on his journey here—the vibrant towns, the motivated populace—all served to confirm Lacey's words.
He put down the teacup, leaned forward slightly, and finally got to the point.
"Alright, Your Excellency Lacey, save the grand narratives about social reform for your people." His gaze sharpened.
"Your messenger said you've discovered a new trade route that can double my wealth."
"Now, can you tell me what it is?"
"Of course." Lacey smiled. "This is precisely why I invited you."
He held up one finger.
"First, Wasser Fief and the Caplania Grand Region are the two most important industrial and commercial centers in Leithanien. Yet, the trade between us has to be routed through Oschdenheim, allowing that old fox Hoffmann to skim a layer off the top."
"We can open a new trade channel, build an exclusive railway."
"My Wasser Fief can provide you with the highest quality and most affordable steel, coal, and finished machinery in all of Leithanien."
"At a price at least thirty percent lower than what you can get from other channels."
Meklen's eyes lit up.
Thirty percent lower was an astonishing figure, enough to destroy any competitor.
"My current trade volume is about three million gold coins per year."
"Are you saying this one trade route alone could double that for me?"
"Double it?" Lacey shook his head. "No, this is just the appetizer."
"It can allow you to earn double on top of your existing base, but what will truly double your wealth is the second point."
Lacey paused, looking at Meklen, his smile becoming profound.
"And this second point depends on your degree of trust in me—or rather, in the future."
Meklen's curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
He had lived half his life and considered himself familiar with every business practice on the continent of Terra, from Victoria's wool to Yan's silk, from Ursus's furs to Sargon's spices.
What business could be more profitable than monopolizing a trade route that served as an industrial lifeline?
"Let's hear it," he urged.
Lacey straightened up, walked to a map, and lightly tapped his finger on the territory of Leithanien.
"It's simple." His voice dropped, carrying a strange, magnetic quality.
"Starting now, in your Keplania, hoard war materials with all your might."
"Grain, medicine, steel... everything related to war."
"At the same time, gradually shift your manufacturing towards military production. Prepare for war in every way."
The air in the Throne Room instantly froze.
The curiosity on Meklen's face vanished, replaced by a look of shock and disbelief.
He stared intently at Lacey.
"War?" He almost laughed out loud. "Your Excellency Lacey, are you joking?"
"You think a war that will engulf Leithanien will break out in the next few years?"
He stood up, walked to the map, and pointed at the countries surrounding Leithanien.
"Are you talking about Ursus?"
"The Infected riots in their country are getting worse and worse; their Emperor can barely keep his throne. With what army would they attack us?"
"Besides, even Gaul couldn't defeat us. Why would Ursus, which merely inherited Gaul's legacy, be able to?"
"They will achieve no more than the Gauls did."
"As for Victoria, its throne is currently vacant. It can't even manage its own affairs, let alone launch a war between nations."
"And those knights in Kazimierz, controlled by the Commercial Federation, see nothing but gold coins. They would never start a profitless war."
Meklen's analysis was sound and logical, a conclusion anyone with a normal geopolitical understanding would reach.
He shook his head, looking at Lacey with considerable disappointment.
"Your Excellency Lacey, I thought you were a clever man, but I never expected…"
"What if…" Lacey raised a hand, cutting him off. "I said, what if the war I'm talking about is one initiated by Leithanien?"
Meklen's smile froze on his face.
He was stunned, his mind racing to comprehend the terrifying information contained in that sentence.
Leithanien initiating a war?
On what grounds?
On the strength of us Electors, who do nothing but fight amongst ourselves?
Or on the strength of those Twin Empresses being roasted over a fire?
It was too absurd.
The Leithanien of today could barely manage its own development. How could it attack others?
Unless…
Unless one person could unify all the Electors, twist all the factions into a single rope, and lead a united front to develop vigorously and expand outward!
Meklen's head snapped up. He looked at Lacey, his eyes filled with horror.
"Could it be that you…"
He wanted to say the word, but found his throat was too dry to make a sound.
He finally understood.
Lacey's goal was never to be the Elector of Wasser Fief.
What he wanted was all of Leithanien!
He wanted to sit on that supreme throne, and then, drag the entire country, the entire world of Terra, into the war he desired!
"Madman!"
Meklen subconsciously took a step back and shouted, "You're an absolute madman! I originally thought you were a clever opportunist, but I never imagined you were a gambler intent on strapping everyone to your war chariot!"
Lacey smiled.
"A madman? Perhaps."
He did not refute the claim, only asking faintly, "But, Your Excellency Meklen, if—and I say if—in three to five years, everything this madman has said comes to pass…"
"At that time, will you be grateful for having listened to a madman's ravings today, or will you regret having missed out on the monumental gamble that could have secured your family's standing for a hundred years?"
Meklen was breathing heavily, cold sweat soaking the back of his shirt.
He was a merchant. His entire life had been spent dealing with risk and profit.
But the man before him was offering a wager he had never imagined.
The stakes were the entirety of Leithanien, and perhaps the future of this very land.
________________________________________
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