Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master-Chapter 150

150. Over the Empire, Flies Renslet (4)

The northern border of the empire.

Fortress City Ruhan.

The trade war with Renslet wasn’t just bleeding the common people dry—it was also hitting the empire’s nobles and clergy hard.

"My dividends… My stocks…"

"The emperor must be insane!"

Many imperial nobles and clergymen who had secretly invested heavily in northern stocks through the High Tower felt like their very lifeblood was being drained.

In the blink of an eye, the stocks they had purchased became worthless scraps of paper due to the trade war.

"Brothers, has there been any word from the north?"

Among them was Cardinal Marcus, who had personally visited the High Tower in the past to secure secret accounts, buy stocks, and arrange loans.

"The severance has made it impossible for us to go to the north, and for northerners to come here," one noble from the Noble Assembly replied with a defeated expression.

"Ah… To think we can’t even see northerners here in Ruhan, which is closest to the north!"

"Dividends! I need the quarterly dividends that used to come in!"

"The emperor has caused us such tremendous harm!"

The clergy seated alongside Cardinal Marcus couldn’t hide their frustration, their cries of despair echoing in the room.

It was so bad that they had swarmed to Fortress Ruhan, which bordered the Renslet Duchy.

"What does Commander Sir Johan have to say? He’s a Royalist, yes, but I heard he has significant investments in High Tower stocks?"

"He likely has no solution. If he attempts trade with the north and is caught, he’ll face charges of treason, and his house will be wiped out. Sigma isn’t foolish enough to miss such a thing."

"Come to think of it, didn’t the commander incur significant debt buying stocks from Arad Capital? Could that be why he’s doing nothing?"

"Debt or no debt, the issue remains the same. Bishop Company won’t let it slide."

"Indeed, in the empire, Entir Bishop arguably wields more influence than the emperor—perhaps even more than the archbishop."

"The commander must feel just as trapped as we do."

While nobles and clergy weren’t suffering to the extent of commoners scrambling to survive, they had their own struggles.

"Public sentiment has turned against the emperor, and even many Royalist nobles are wavering. Why is the Noble Assembly so quiet?"

"It’s still too early, according to Lord Sephiros and Lord Entir."

"Too early?! If the north falls and the emperor conquers it, it’s all over!"

"That’s why the Royalists haven’t fully turned against him. If the emperor’s gamble succeeds, they’ll reap the rewards too."

"And if the emperor fails?"

"Then we’ll see the dawn of the ‘Era of Great Nobles.’"

"The Era of Great Nobles… That sounds rather arrogant."

"It’s just a metaphor. My apologies if it offended you, Your Eminence."

"It’s fine. Be it the emperor or the great nobles, as long as they’re devout, I have no preference. But… it does seem like you’re expecting the emperor to fail?"

"Do I?"

"Hmm…"

Cardinal Marcus glanced around cautiously, checking for signs of Sigma or the Inquisition.

‘Not that it matters if I’m caught.’

A moment later, he shrugged.

‘Sir Johan has already agreed to cover this matter.’

Commander Sir Johan of Fortress Ruhan, despite being a Royalist, had a substantial fortune tied up in the High Tower.

Knowing his circumstances and recognizing the emperor’s waning authority, Cardinal Marcus and the Noble Assembly nobles were emboldened to visit Ruhan in person.

Even if rumors spread, Sir Johan had agreed to explain their presence to Sigma and the Inquisition.

‘Come to think of it, wasn’t there talk of Count Felice’s family producing a Swordmaster recently? Sir Solon Felice, the younger son?’

While conversing with the nobles in the heart of Fortress Ruhan, Cardinal Marcus recalled the rumors of a Swordmaster emerging from the Noble Assembly ranks.

Linking the rumor to the earlier mention of the "Era of Great Nobles," he found the thought intriguing.

"The Era of Great Nobles… Truly fascinating. By the way, congratulations. Your younger brother’s achievement must bring great pride?"

"Huh? Ah…! Haha! So the Church is aware as well?"

As luck would have it, the noble Marcus was speaking to was Kios von Felice, the eldest son of Count Felice.

‘The Felice family. Once a prominent neutral house, they switched their allegiance to the Noble Assembly for some reason.’

Marcus quickly analyzed the Felice family.

‘I heard their youngest son was killed by the Dark Grand Duke during the Great Wall campaign. Though officially, it was reported as a valiant death in battle.’

Despite Marcus’s scrutinizing gaze, Kios maintained a composed smile.

Unlike his brother Solon, renowned for his swordsmanship, Kios exuded the aura of a refined bureaucrat.

‘For the eldest son of a house with considerable influence in the assembly to be here in Ruhan? They must be negotiating with Commander Johan.’

The goal, Marcus surmised, was either to sway Johan to the Noble Assembly’s side or, at the very least, secure his neutrality.

‘They’re sharpening their fangs, ready to bite if the opportunity arises.’

Not that Marcus was particularly concerned; the Church was preparing similar contingencies.

"By the way, Cardinal Marcus, what is the Church up to these days?"

"The Church… More specifically, Archbishop Teresia, is already preparing to align with the imperial family."

"The imperial family? Not the Noble Assembly?"

"It’s about balance. If the emperor’s gamble succeeds, or even if it fails, the Church will remain aligned with the imperial family. Maintaining equilibrium is vital for us."

"I imagine that must be frustrating for you, Cardinal Marcus."

"Hahaha! I merely follow the will of the Light."

Kios’s pointed remark earned only a benign smile and a sign of the cross from Marcus.

‘I hope the north triumphs decisively.’

At this moment, Marcus prayed with all his might.

Faith and loyalty no longer mattered to him. Money was his true god, his true master.

And perhaps heaven answered his prayer.

One month later, in late autumn, shocking news arrived from the empire’s southwest.

"T-this! That golden carriage emblem—it’s Arad’s…! Where did this come from? What?! Bardenheim?!"

"How?! How is the United Kingdom using Mary’s Blessing?! How?!"

"It’s not just Mary’s Blessing! Northern porcelain, Arad Salt, and even Bluetooth magic tools are appearing in the United Kingdom!"

"They say that recently, Ren, the northern currency, has become commonplace in Bardenheim!"

The effects of the trade war with Renslet weren’t limited to the commoners. Nobles and clergy, too, found themselves suffering significant losses.

"How?! How is this happening?!"

"It seems the north has figured something out—a way to trade with the United Kingdom without going through us."

"Have they truly discovered a method to navigate the Frozen Sea?!"

"If it’s those northern sorcerers… it’s not impossible."

"To think they’ve been so quiet all this time! To think they’ve stood so confidently against us!"

"It all makes sense now!"

"It’s over. This is a total defeat for the Empire."

No matter their faction—Royalists, the Noble Assembly, or the Church—imperial citizens had to acknowledge their utter loss.

***

"Your Majesty…"

For the week it took to confirm the news, Canbraman appeared to age twenty years.

"Restore ties with the north… No, with the Renslet Duchy. Prepare to send an envoy to the High Tower."

The emperor, who had gambled everything and lost, finally uttered words of surrender.

"And summon Archbishop Teresia for a private audience."

"At once, Your Majesty."

The empire’s prestige lay shattered, and the honor of the emperor and the royal family was buried even deeper.

"Your Majesty, what should we do about the standing army stationed at Ruhan?"

"Deploy them to defend the capital and the royal territories."

With no time to recover from the shock, the emperor now had to prepare for a long, drawn-out conflict with the nobles.

"Call Elisha von Havana back to the capital."

"But, Your Majesty, that would weaken our border with the United Kingdom!"

"They say the Noble Assembly has produced a Swordmaster. Let them handle it."

"If we do that, the United Kingdom might align with the Noble Assembly!"

"Would the United Kingdom truly ally with the Noble Assembly?"

"!!"

"Hmph… Inform Grand Duke Doom and Ricard as well. They are not to leave the capital under any circumstances."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

From this point forward, the empire would never return to its former state.

An internal cold war had begun.

***

Renslet is the northernmost region of Arcadia.

Within Renslet, High Tower was the northernmost city.

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Although High Tower was the duchy’s capital and the former seat of the Grand Dukes of the North, it was widely dismissed as a remote backwater far removed from prosperity.

But anyone who had visited the High Tower even once would never agree with such a description.

A paradise. There was no better way to describe this city under the harsh northern frost.

The most magically advanced city on the continent.

The city where magic was most widely accessible.

And above all, a city of thriving culture.

This was the High Tower.

Over the years, High Tower had expanded to nearly three times its former size.

What used to be its outskirts was now considered its inner city, and the land where High Tower’s citizens once foraged for wild plants was now filled with housing and cultural facilities.

Among these facilities was the largest theater in not just Renslet but the entire continent.

It was even home to the continent’s only 4D theater, outfitted with cutting-edge illusion magic tools.

"Do you call this love? Love is harsh, cruel, and fierce—a thorn that pierces the heart!"

Onstage, various illusion spells and elemental magic played out brilliantly.

The stage’s background shifted seamlessly through illusion magic, and despite the bitter winter, the audience enjoyed the warmth provided by heating stones.

"Oh, Julia! Why must you be a witch of the north? And why must I be a holy knight of the empire?!"

"Rom! Rom!"

Sometimes, light magic illuminated the actors’ emotions like stage lights, and at other times, fire and ice magic emphasized the intensity of the scene.

"I am… I am but a fool mocked by fate♩♬!"

Even if the actors couldn’t wield magic or sword auras themselves, enchanted props brought the scenes to life.

"If you refuse, just swear you love me~♪ That’s all I need~♬!"

The production combined a guaranteed-to-succeed original plot with magic, music, songs, and dances, leaving no dull moments.

Even in Imperial City Solasis or Bardenheim, where theater was well-established, productions of this scale and ambition were unheard of.

This was a cheat code that only Arad Jin Renslet, a hero from Earth, could wield.

"Did you drink it all? Not even a drop left for me…?"

And the actors—many of whom had been secretly recruited from the empire through Entir right before the trade severance—delivered performances that, while slightly amateurish by Earth standards, were more than enough to dazzle the citizens of Renslet.

"Aaaaaahhh!!"

"It’s so heartbreaking…!"

"How can such a magnificent play exist?!"

"Long live Renslet Rune Renslet!"

Even ordinary plays could captivate people in this era.

But this was no ordinary play—it was a magical musical, far beyond anything seen even in Earth’s musicals.

"Waaaaahhhh!!"

"Kyaaaaaaa!!"

As the play concluded and the curtain call began, the entire audience in the theater rose to their feet, screaming in ecstatic delight.

"This is incredible."

"Truly remarkable."

Sitting in the VIP box, Arad and Arina (in her Mary mode) applauded as they shared their brief impressions.

It wasn’t clear whether they were praising the musical, "Knight Rom and Witch Julia," or the overwhelmingly enthusiastic Renslet audience.

Perhaps it was both.

Thus, Renslet—and the continent’s—first magical musical successfully took its first step.

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