Ch.15 Deflation and Nationalization (Patreon)

After Thea's birthday, we loaded a skywhale with key people and various pelts, food, specialty soaps, and steel supplies and headed to Silverbrook. When we got there, all hell broke loose.

"Lord Everwood!" a panicked redhead exclaimed, rushing over with a mad sprint.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. "Please communicate quickly and clearly, Quinn!"

Blood drained from her face when she realized the sense of urgency she had created. "Y-Yes, everything's fine. I mean, maybe," Quinn fumbled. "I'm being stalked around the clock as nobles wait for the next cosmetics shipment."

I looked into the distance and saw men and women running, trying to catch up to her. If they saw me, it would start a riot.

In a flash, I picked up Quinn in a princess carry, jumped 20 feet onto the nearest rooftop, and hopped through the city with Thea pouting and Zenith rolling her eyes.

When we got to a safe house I rented in the city, I finally asked, "What are the sales like?"

"T-That," Quinn stuttered. "We're auctioning the products weekly, and they're becoming more... violent."

My eyebrow twitched. "That wasn't what I asked. How much have we made?"

It wasn't long before my birthday, and I got summoned to the capital, and the amount of money I made would determine everything.

"T-That's the thing," Quinn swallowed. "We've made 5,713,281 gold. The kingdom's gold reserve is so low that they're trying to force us to spend money."

I grinned widely. My plan had worked far better than I had imagined. "It's time to pen a letter to Valeria's Ministry of Trade."

***

Money has a simple yet profound purpose: it allows people to trade.

Say a peanut farmer wants a sword, but the blacksmith is allergic to nuts. The farmer can't buy a sword!

Enter money. The farmer sells his peanuts for gold. He then pays the blacksmith in golden peanuts. Then the blacksmith trades golden swords with the butcher.

That's what money does. It's a standardized unit of trade.

However, money becomes dangerous in its supply.

If the kingdom makes ten gold coins, and there are ten apples, everyone pays one gold per apple. However, if the apple farmers grow 100 apples and there are still ten coins, how do people pay for them? They can't. They need smaller coins, so the kingdom introduces silvers and coppers.

And what happens if a kingdom gives me all their gold, silvers, and coppers, and people can't buy things?

They'll need to trade or go to war.

That happened in the 19th century when the British got addicted to China's black tea. The Chinese were happy to sell it but didn't buy anything back, causing major economic devastation. Britain's solution? Import a stronger drug to get the Chinese addicted: opium—heroin's smokable cousin. Soon, the Chinese were sending all their silver to Britain.

Naturally, the Chinese didn't like the situation, so they burned metric tons of opium. How did the British respond? They sent warships to force the Chinese to trade—and succeeded, establishing Hong Kong as a trading port. When China retaliated, the British used modern artillery to slaughter up to a million people to establish order and trade.

These conflicts are dubbed the Opium Wars and are among the darkest events in modern history—and both explained what was happening here.

Success!

The nobles had spent millions on my cosmetics, coffee, and chocolate, and I wasn't trading back. Since people didn't have gold to trade, it was wreaking economic havoc in the kingdom. Now, there was only one way to rectify the situation: let me buy everything I needed for my war chest. If they didn't, I would financially strangle the kingdom!

"It's so satisfying when things work out the way you envision they will," I chuckled, sitting down to pen a letter to the Valerian Ministry of Trade, which controlled the movement of goods across borders, assessed tariffs and taxes, and monitored compliance with trade laws.

—

"I'd like to buy large quantities of raw materials for gold. I'm in Silverbrook and can make it to the Verdanthall in one week."

—

I then sent a carrier pigeon to Valeria.

"Now, then. I suppose I should see how much leverage I have," I grinned, turning to Thea. "Do you want to go to an auction?"

Thea's eyes widened, and she nodded. "I'd love to."

"Well, then. Let's get you dressed up," I smiled.

Lyssa, Thea, and Zenith went dress shopping in Silverbrook while I walked down the roads. What was once a city where people threw waste onto the broken cobblestone streets was now a bustling metropolis nicer than the capital. Farmers were peddling their crops to nobles and various races of every description. The loud sizzling of searing meat wafted through the air, creating a pleasant atmosphere alongside lute players and street performers.

-

-

I walked through, seeing all the sights in awe. "It's hard to believe this is the same place I visited five years ago," I murmured from underneath my hood.

It's not that I was afraid something bad would happen if I exposed my identity—it was the opposite. The minute my name went out, the whole place would turn into a madhouse, and I really didn't want to deal with any drama.

More importantly, I didn't want the nobles to know I was in the city. I was here to observe.

I spent an hour buying various goods and giving tips, taking notes of issues that I could help correct. "It's time for us to create plumbing systems," I muttered, seeing sewage in the gutter. "And water treatment. The Yemma River is already becoming polluted."

The Yemma River was the main river only a mile outside of town which our businesses were using for their waterwheels.

"Plumbing and then the steam engine," I muttered. "Yeah, that would cover hygiene, water distribution, and business automation. I like that."

By creating modern sewers, we could prevent people from dying of diseases caused by bacteria-stricken water, protect the environment, and improve the image of the city, which would lead to more trade. It was a must.

After my walk, I met up with Thea, who jumped into my arms with a beaming smile.

"I can't wait for you to see my dress!" Thea beamed.

I smiled and patted her head. "I can't wait."

She purred and giggled.

I looked at the other women, who were far less excited. "Did you two not find anything interesting?"

"I hate shopping," Lyssa sighed, visibly exhausted.

"I wouldn't subject my greatest enemies to the fashion and textiles in this city," Zenith huffed, pouting. "Fix it, Ryker."

I looked down and pinched the bridge of my nose before turning away in exasperation. "Doing that would be a declaration of war," I responded. "But I'll add it to my list."

Lowering the cost of crops and textiles would decrease the taxes of every noble in Solstice and supplant the workers. If handled incorrectly, it could lead to instant war and mass famine.

"Did you find something here for now?" I asked.

"Something better than what I'm currently wearing," Zenith replied.

"Good enough," I said. "Then let's get ready. We have an auction to go to."

***

The manor was a large stone building on Silverbrook's east side. It was traditionally the mayor's home. However, they built a new house for the mayor and remodeled this one for me.

Just walking through the place, viewing the art and large corridors lit with beeswax candles, made me feel like a real king. Yeah... I like that.

Thea and the women went to their individual rooms, and I got ready. When they returned and saw Thea smiling brightly in her black dress and modeling it playfully, I couldn’t help but chuckle at her attempts to be sexy, and she beamed afterward, proving that she was just playing around.

-

-

What I felt in that moment—was it… fun? It was hard to tell.

"Well? What do you think?" Thea asked, lifting her dress and twirling back and forth to show off.

"You look stunning," I smiled.

Her cheeks turned bright red, and she turned away and then turned back and then around and back, and then she finally ran up and buried her face in my chest to stop the social torture.

Cute couldn't adequately describe this woman.

"How do you like the dress?" I asked Lyssa, watching her stare at her golden dress with a complex expression.

Lyssa jumped when I called her out. "It's uncomfortable and restraining."

-

-

"I'm glad you like it," I grinned, making her heat up. If she didn't like it, she'd complain about it instead of its discomfort.

She turned away. "You're unbearable."

"Accurate," I chuckled, turning to Zenith. "For all your complaints, you're in an absurdly fashionable dress and jewelry. And your hair is suspiciously well done."

Zenith wore a red dress adorned with roses at the hips, a golden swirl pattern on the chest, and red garnet dangle earrings. She turned, looking for something to break but found nothing replaceable. "I didn't dress up," she declared. However, from the back, we could see her crown braids that left only one side of her hair on the front. It took hours.

-

-

"I can see that," I grinned. "Okay, let's go, everyone."

We left via carriage to Alton's Auction House on the west side of town. Once a place that sold merchant goods to the business elites and guild masters, it was now adorned with shined brass everywhere, and there was still equipment from constant construction as they expanded.

Naturally, when I stepped out on the red rug leading into the building, the merchants, barons, bailiffs, stewards, and reeves trying to get in were salty and became even saltier when the ladies took my sides.

"Who the hell is that?"

"A kid?"

"Whose son is wealthy enough to get a group of beautiful older women?"

"I'm not sure. I've never seen a child with that description."

"Me either. Who does he think he is, walking up like he owns this place?!"

"Hey, kid! Identify yourself!"

In the commotion, Alton Regal, the gray-haired auction house owner, rushed out. "H-Hello, sir," he said, approaching with groveling hands. "I didn't know you were coming!"

"What are you doing, Mr. Regal?!"

"Make him identify himself!"

"What type of place are you running here?!"

"Don't say a word," I ordered Alton, returning to the carriage with Thea, making everyone snicker, smirk, and shout insults. However, I returned with a shortsword made from carbon steel with a black patina. It was just as absurd as putting it on my shoulder instead of in my sheath. However, it was intimidating.

The nobles panicked as I walked up to Alton. "Now you can speak,"

Alton turned to the nobles. "You stand before Baron Everwood, you fools! You're all banned from this establishment! Now leave before we forcefully remove you!"

Fear hit the nobles like a brick, draining blood from their faces.

"W-Wait! I didn't know!"

"Y-Yeah! Why didn't you identify yourself, Baron Everwood?!"

"I wouldn't have ever said anything if I would've known!"

The seven offenders took a knee and groveled. Unfortunately for them, I wasn't in the mood.

"Anyone who insults someone without knowing who they are is an idiot," I declared. Thea giggled, Lyssa donned a subtle smirk, and Zenith harumphed, flicking her hair as we walked through the doors.

"Wow!" Thea squealed, clasping her hands as we walked through. "I feel like a princess here!"

Once a place that only serviced passing merchants, the new building was adorned with golden walls, brass chandeliers, and candles that flickered off the polished bronze everywhere. Nobles drank wine through the door as we walked through.

At first, people panicked when they saw the black sword. However, they changed their tune when Alton ran into the room, requesting to guide us. He then took us to the VIP skybox, which confused the other VIPs. So, naturally, they tried to fuss, but Alton kept saying my name as a way of constantly avoiding trouble. He was a pro.

"Isn’t it easier when you announce who you are?" Lyssa snarked.

"Won't it be easier when people spread the news not to mess with teenagers?" I smirked.

Lyssa rolled her eyes. "You're being rude."

“When was I ever nice?” I countered.

Thea's nose abruptly scrunched up. "Who's that? He's kinda gross...." A pudgy man with slicked-back hair walked in with a beautiful woman. She wore an expression that said she'd rather watch paint dry during a hurricane and cringed whenever he showed her off.

"That's Count Yellis," Lyssa replied. "He's respected by his people but disdained by everyone in his social circles."

A collective gasp abruptly let out when another man walked into the room. He was in his mid-twenties with brown hair slightly slicked back, wearing a dark brown noble's gown adorned with patterns around the area where lapels would usually be.

He was handsome and charismatic, instantly captivating men and women alike. They rushed to him, and he was amicable, talking to everyone, regardless of their ranks.

"Who is that man?" I asked.

"That's Viscount Eli Carter," Lyssa replied. "He's recently become a suitor after becoming a self-made viscount. He's much like you, building wealth really quickly."

"I know of him," I replied. "It's good to put a name to a face. I've meant to talk to him about trade for a while now. This is a convenient opportunity."

The crowd quieted when the auction commenced, and Eli sat in the front, showcasing his power and prestige.

"Rise for the honorable Alton Regal!" a worker instructed, met with applause. Alton walked onto the stage and gave an opening that did not include my name, making Lyssa roll her eyes.

"Our first item for tonight is a month's supply of light-roasted coffee alongside four bottles of cane syrup," Alton announced, showcasing a large tub of coffee. Once they saw the Everwood Company logo, they whipped into a frenzy. "The starting bid is 1,000 gold."

Lyssa's eyes widened in shock, but the effect was instantaneous.

"Four thousand!" Eli shouted, causing a stir.

"Five thousand!" another shouted.

"Fifty-five hundred!" a woman yelled.

It quickly turned into a bloodbath, with people getting heated. Naturally, they kept themselves in check, but you could see the violence in their eyes.

"These people haven't even seen, smelled, or tasted this drink, and yet they're getting angry after bidding a lifetime's worth of wealth?" Lyssa asked in shock.

"Welcome to the wonderful world of brand value," I grinned. "People aren't buying the coffee—they're buying the logo. Everwood Company is a sign of wealth and prestige."

When the winners won, they were a source of envy throughout the crowd.

Lyssa's eyes narrowed. "Why is it that everything you touch turns to gold?"

"I was born a cursed alchemist," I shrugged.

She frowned. "Will you ever tell me?"

"What do you want me to say?" I posed. "That I was chosen by a goddess to save this world?"

Lyssa rolled her eyes and ignored me after that.

The auction continued, racking up zeros by the second. Eli won the coffee over Viscount Yellis, followed by outbidding a haughty woman for 20 bars of chocolate.

While we had three product lines, we had dozens of products, including milk, dark, almond, sea salt, and cherry chocolate. The cosmetics came in red, purple, and green color correctors, twelve variations of foundation pigments, and darker sets for concealer. Lastly, we had light, medium, and dark roast coffee.

"Those two are kinda mean," Thea noted, watching Eli outbid everyone by 10,000 to 25,000. Viscount Yellis snatched half of the items in the second round, leaving everyone else to fight during the final round.

"No, they're rich. So they're flexing to make sure people know they're powerful." Zenith replied.

"I think that's stupid," Thea huffed. "25,000 gold could feed our barony for six months, and he's buying chocolate."

"Relax," Lyssa smiled. "This is noble society, and it's making Ryker rich." She sent a glance at me, but I ignored her statement. I was watching closely.

—

"And now the final product of the night!" Alton announced, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. "We present to you..." he paused for dramatic effect. "Blush!"

Five women with perfect makeup walked out onto the stage, showcasing the blush on their rosy cheeks. They also wore mascara made of beeswax and charcoal to bring it out.

"There's only one kit available worldwide until next month!" Alton clarified. "So whoever buys it will be the first and only person with this product! I'll give you ten minutes to discuss it!"

Chaos and confusion cut through the crowd, creating a cataclysmic commotion.

"Viscount Carter, are you going to bid for it?" a noblewoman asked.

"Of course," Eli replied, flashing a smile. "The ladies in my life only deserve the best. So how can I not?" The women around him giggled.

"Don't get drawn in!" Count Yellis cautioned. "He clearly manipulates women!"

Eli turned to him and then his lady, who was staring at the stage with the enthusiasm of a half-baked brick. "It's my duty to ensure you cannot buy another woman's shame."

Count Yellis' face flushed red with humiliation. "I've been saving for this event! Just wait!"

"No, you wait. I'll enjoy avenging your partner's boredom," Eli smirked.

Alton returned and delivered his statement. "With the waiting period over, let's begin the bidding. The first bid goes for 10,000 gold!"

"50,000!" Count Yellis yelled, eliciting gasps. However, people were not so poor as to turn down the first product that even dukes, and princesses didn't have!

"55,000!"

"60,000!"

"65,000!"

"100,000!" Eli declared, sending another stir through the room.

"110,000!" Count Yellis snarled.

A bidding war started between the two until Eli bid 150,000, and Count Yellis started counting on his pudgy fingers.

"What's wrong, Count Yellis?" Eli smirked.

Count Yellis' face heated up. "155,000!" he declared, starting another bidding war.

The bidding continued until Eli bid 175,000, and Count Yellis fell silent. "Hoh? Backing out so soon?" Eli smirked. "Well, it seems that I've—"

"200,000," I announced, sending ripples of shock through the crowd.

Eli's face twitched, and he turned. However, as I was sitting, he couldn't see me in the skybox.

"What are you doing?!" Lyssa seethed. "You know he's a viscount, right?!" However, I ignored her.

"200,000," Alton echoed. "Does anyone else want to—"

"210,000," Eli declared.

"225,000," I countered.

“230,000!” he snapped, losing patience. After being on the cusp of victory, backing down would be humiliating. It brought out the tension, and a hush would fall over the crowd after each bid as nobles strained to see the unseen bidder in the skybox. The murmurs grew louder with each successive bid, a palpable excitement building in the air. 'Who could this mystery bidder be?' they whispered among themselves.

“231,000,” I said, slapping him in the face with a petty number and making people snort. The tension was so high that they couldn’t help it with the irony.

Naturally, that made Eli angry. "235,000!"

"236,000," I followed.

He turned to the skybox with a threatening glance. "Do you even understand who you're offending, little boy? If you—"

"Viscount Carter!" Alton snapped. "Using your influence to threaten people will lead to an immediate ban from this establishment and Everwood Company products."

Eli closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "250,000!"

"251,000," I followed.

"500,000!" Eli roared.

With that, I stopped talking and let him win.

"Sold to Viscount Carter for 500,000!" Alton announced, leaving to thunderous applause and laughter.

Eli basked in the glow of his victory, smug satisfaction etched across his face. It was only after he glanced down at the item he had won that the color drained from his cheeks. His triumph turned into disbelief, then horror, as the reality of his hasty bidding sank in. "W-Wait," he said. "We're talking about cosmetics, correct? I thought it was something else. This wasn't what I agreed to!"

A wave of scoffs and snorting followed when the nobles watched him showcase immense regret.

"IT WAS HIS FAULT!" Eli snapped, pointing at my skybox. "The establishment planted this person to goad me into bidding more. Show yourself!"

As his accusation took root, so did the crowd's unease, their cheers replaced with hushed whispers. When the confrontation came to its stunning conclusion, I jumped out of the skybox and walked down the aisle, commanding attention as I prepared to address the room. Some started speculating, but Alton shushed them, shocking them with my identity. Once that came out, chaos and confusion unfolded as I stood before Eli.

"What are you doing?!" Eli scoffed to my face. "You can't bid on your own product. That's a blatant violation of—"

I slapped the man across the room, making his soul-mana-reinforced body hit the wall.

"W-W-What are you doing, Baron Everwood?!" Alton stammered. "Do you understand—"

"Silence!" I commanded, picking up the slow-recovering viscount from the dented wall and turning his bloody body to the crowd. "Tell them how you got rich!"

The panicked nobles who had moved toward the doors stopped and listened with bated breath.

"I-I... B-Baron Everwood, I..." Eli stuttered in a haze.

"Do you want to die?" I asked.

"N-No..." he replied.

"Then tell them!" I barked.

"I-I sold your soap...," Eli said.

"And?" I asked, lifting my hand and threatening to slap again.

"I-I sold it for twice as much!" he stammered. "O-Okay, three times as much!"

"And?" I snarled.

Eli swallowed the blood in his mouth. "I made buying a bar a week the law."

As the truth about Eli's profiteering sank in, the shock became a palpable wave of indignation. One could almost see the gears turning in their minds, processing the gravity of his actions. Faces turned from shock to disgust, whispers of betrayal filled the room, and eyes hardened with the realization of Eli's deceit.

"That's right. Unfortunately for you, I read the books!" I announced. "I know how much soap has gone to every noble. And while most nobles skimmed some extra off the top, you're the sickest of the sick. I can't believe you had the audacity to come to my auction!"

"F-Forgive me!" Eli sobbed.

"Even Gods wouldn't forgive you," I huffed. "So I'm going to take your money and have your replacement give it back to the people. Guards! Take him to a holding chamber. I'll send for the kingdom to take this man into custody."

After watching the man get dragged away by guards in silence, a confused noble started politely clapping, turning left to right to see if he was reacting appropriately.

The first claps rang out, echoing in the silence. Slowly, others joined in one by one until the room was filled with thunderous applause. Their collective approval washed over the room, a resounding testament to their endorsement of my justice.

I stepped onto the stage. "My name is Baron Everwood, and welcome to my auction!" I exclaimed, followed by a speech on what it meant to be an elite and the value of resale in non-emergency situations. Lastly, I made an announcement after their clapping died down:

"In light of the circumstances, I'm giving you all my latest product!" I announced. "Mascara! With this, ordinary eyelashes will become unimaginably beautiful, and your eyes will pop! Like blush, it's exclusive to everyone except the king and queen for the next month!"

Any apprehension people felt liquefied, and the room burst into deep cheering.

***

After a lengthy meet and greet with nobles, we returned to the manor and slept. The next day, I got an immediate reply stating that the Chief Commissioner of Customs, Benjamin Hughes, would personally visit Silverbrook, arriving via a griffin and arriving by nightfall.

Desperation: perfect.

As the sun fell below the horizon, I paced the luxurious lobby of the Silver Swallow. The clink of fine china and whispered conversations of the nobility filled the air, but my thoughts were elsewhere, focusing on Benjamin Hughes’ imminent arrival.

When he arrived, I arranged for him to meet at the Silver Swallow, the rapidly expanding luxury hotel catering to nobles and merchants.

After a night's rest, we met in a private tea room for lunch. It was a simple room with flower decor and intricately carved wood, including glassware made by my talented glassblower, Alexandra Riesling, in Elderthorn.

After twenty minutes of pretentious etiquette customs and exchanging pleasantries, he got down to business. "While we praise Everwood Company for its success, you're causing the kingdom trouble. People are starving because they don't have money to pay their workers, and the surplus of goods is stacking up."

Translation: You're financially strangling Valeria.

I sipped my tea. "I was unaware until my visit, as the king gave me a barony in Elderthorn, unreachable without A-class avians."

Translation: The King's at fault due to his botched assassination attempt.

Benjamin's eyebrow twitched. “I'll cut to the chase. We understand you can't manage things while you're abiding by your barony duties….” His voice trailed off as he measured my reaction before proceeding, “...so the Kingdom will oversee your organization in your absence.”

Translation: We're nationalizing—otherwise known as “stealing”—your business.

They were doing this because their economy shut down due to a lack of gold. Imagine if there was no cash and your credit and debit cards working—that's what I did to their economy. Due to the problems it was causing, they had no choice but to regulate it. It was wreaking havoc on their economy!

Well, from my perspective, that sounds a lot like a them problem not a me problem—even if I intentionally caused it.

"No, you won't," I calmly replied. "If King Redfield aims to seize my business illegally after sending me to an uninhabitable, highly dangerous place as a child, I will publicly declare it an assassination attempt, annex the land, and go to war with him."

Translation: If you do that, I'll declare Elderthorn a kingdom, justifying it by claiming King Redfield tried to assassinate me.

"Y-You couldn't possibly go to war with the kingdom!" Benjamin yelled.

I took a sip of tea. "Yes, I can. Valeria cannot attack Elderthorn unless they summon all their air beasts or wizards at once. That's how dangerous my barony is. I can hold out there indefinitely while I amass strength and technology to fight you."

Translation: You fucked up.

Waves of anxiety loomed over the man like a guillotine, threatening to kill him, literally and figuratively.

"Where are you going to trade?" Benjamin growled.

"The Aurelian Empire," I replied, stirring cane syrup into my tea. "I have a fully legal trade route established with them. If you go to war with me, your people will be feeding money to your competitor instead of your non-hostile ally."

Translation: I'll sell everything to Seraphin, and you'll have to send millions of gold to your competing kingdom to get coffee, chocolate, and cosmetics. Hang yourself, or leave things be and let Valeria thrive.

"You'll hang for this," Benjamin declared.

"Are you declaring war on me, Mr. Hughes?" I asked, stopping my tea-stirring.

The commissioner's face turned pale as a sheet. "N-No," he said.

"Good," I replied. "Send word to King Redfield that if he sends troops to my father's manor, for any reason, I'll declare war. Cite his assassination attempt as my justification."

"I-I-I...." Benjamin stammered.

"Need to leave," I replied. "I'll bleed your nobles dry until you return to negotiate trade. Now leave—I won't ask again."

Two guards stepped forward, sending a message: Move.

Once the man left, workers brought in a massive table, and Thea, Zenith, Peggy's representative, my father, representatives of Silverbrook, and others sat down.

When everyone was sitting, I spoke.

"King Redfield is declaring that he plans to seize Everwood Company and doubtlessly Silverbrook," I announced, multiplying the atmospheric pressure. "If the kingdom does not rescind this declaration, you have two choices."

Everyone swallowed hard, taking shallow breaths.

"First, I can break relations to ensure that the kingdom doesn't harm you," I stated. "If you do this, Everwood Company will cease trade with you, but I'll protect you from retaliation."

"And the other option?" Leon asked, his eyes sharp.

"You can join me in establishing a new kingdom and go to war with Valeria," I announced. "Doing that would be a hard road. However, I can guarantee that we will win, and you'll become the new nobles."

After I laid out the dire possibilities—abandoning the kingdom or going to war with it—a cold hush descended over the room. The faces of the nobles and merchants reflected a myriad of emotions: shock, disbelief, fear, and determination. They exchanged glances and took deep breaths, each contemplating the enormity of the decision.

"You must decide now, as the kingdom will send troops by next week," I said. "However, I assure you that neither situation option will affect you much."

"How can you declare that?!" Christopher Mitchell, the mayor of Silverbrook, declared. "You're bringing war knocking on our door!"

"I'm stationing troops and modern artillery in Silverbrook," I announced. "I'll also reinforce your walls with something called 'concrete.' In short, I'll protect you and my family unless you betray me. Therefore, you honestly have a decision."

My father stood up. "I'll side with you, Son. As much as I hate this, you've been nothing but good to your family, and I won't betray you after Valeria sent you to Elderthorn to die."

"I'm by your side forever," Thea declared.

"I'm going to war," Zenith shrugged.

"Peggy has declared she'll stay with you in the event of war," Peggy's proxy stated. "This is her product line, and no one will take that away."

One after the other, all the representatives of Elderthorn and the Margrave territory gave their assent. The silence that followed each declaration was deafening, filled only with the sharp intake of breath as another noble or merchant chose their side. The pause before Christopher made his decision was the longest.

Seeing the tide, Christopher took a deep breath and stood up with a bold expression. "If that's the people's will, so be it!" he declared.

***

After wrapping up the meeting, it was time to make the announcement. To achieve this, I would use a tried and true method of turning peaceful people into bloodthirsty monsters: introduce modern nationalism. So I wrote a speech that emulated great orators throughout history in their war and nationalism speeches, while Christopher called a public town hall in the city’s center.

I jumped onto a large building to look at the thousands of people as orators spread out to repeat what I was saying in real time so everyone could hear me.

"PEOPLE OF SILVERBROOK!" I roared. "HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE FASTEST-GROWING CITY IN THE WORLD?!"

Thunderous applause boomed through the streets, crushing the airwaves and making breathing difficult.

"Why are we the fastest-growing people?!" I asked. "Is it because we have great leaders and technology? Partially. However, there's a greater reason we are successful."

I panned their gazes for dramatic effect as the orators spread my words.

"It's because we're special," I declared.

Loud cheering spread through the crowd like falling dominoes.

"The Emerson people—YOU—are elites!" I yelled, pumping my hands in the air. "We're the smartest, most talented people in the world!"

The crowd's response was deafening, filling people with passion. Previously quiet people got wrapped up in the pride and energy of the crowd.

“Silverbrook is our home,” I asserted. "We must protect it from others who aim to steal it!"

My declaration was met with battle cries, whipping people into a frenzy.

This was us versus them. We're special. They're evil. It's the key tenet of nationalism, which declares the superiority of the individual nation, and it is the most powerful rhetorical tool in human history.

"And people are trying to steal our home," I warned, spreading fear, anxiety, and panic through the crowd. After a pause, I explained: "King Redfield has foolishly declared his intention to seize Emerson Company, which you built with your blood, sweat, and tears, and run it, forcing us to do their bidding against the kingdom's law."

More shock spread through the crowd, hearing my crushing words.

"Are you okay with that?" I asked.

Depressed murmurs spread through the crowd. What were they supposed to say? It was the kingdom. The kingdom made the rules.

"I asked—ARE YOU OKAY WITH THAT?!" I barked. "ARE YOU OKAY WITH OTHERS HOLDING YOU DOWN?!"

At first, my warnings only instilled fear and anxiety in the crowd, their faces paling as they realized the gravity of the situation. But as I continued, asserting their right to defend their home, the mood shifted. A murmur of agreement arose, growing steadily louder until it became a chorus of affirmations. Their fear turned to determination, their anxiety into a burning desire to protect their home. It was not a sudden shift but a transformation brought on by each impassioned word I spoke, building momentum.

"NEITHER AM I!" I declared. "I WON'T LET ANYONE HARM MY PEOPLE!"

Bloodlust percolated into the air, making people's lungs burn and their ears ring with tinnitus from the rancor in the streets.

"COME TOMORROW, I'LL BE INSTALLING MODERN WEAPONS HERE TO PROTECT YOU AGAINST ANYONE—ANYONE THAT AIMS TO HARM YOU!" I roared.

Battle cries rocked the airwaves, creating an ominous war drum that made the spies within the city feel crushed and short of breath.

"And if the kingdom attacks us, our people, proud Silverbrook of the Emerson estate," I murmured, drawing everyone in. "I WILL FIGHT TO MY LAST BREATH TO PROTECT MY HOME!"

Thunderous outcries met my words, creating a loud warning for any beast, enemy, or kingdom that would dare to attack our people.

It was time to prepare for war.

—

[A/N: Enough people have expressed confusion that I'll clarify.

What Ryker Everwood has done, with selling Caffeine, Chocolate, and Cosmetics all at once, has caused starvation, panic, and rioting in Valiera. The citizens don't have gold because Ryker has it and isn't buying anything back, so people can't pay their bills, buy food, or pay merchants.

Imagine your credit cards working and not having any cash. That'd be devastating, right? That's what Ryker has intentionally done. He's fucked Valiera super hard, and King Redfield barely understands why. Therefore, King Redfield has to respond because he's a king, and his country is in trouble.

You don't know why Ryker's done it yet, but it's not villainy.

This was his plan, and the entire point of the Caffeine, Chocolate, and Cosmetics arc was to pull off this ruthless plan. He manufactured it, and I outlined that meticulously by pointing out the Opium Wars and how it led to war. So this has been the entire plan for a hundred pages, so while King Redfield going from zero to 100 is rational and expected.

I could've done far better at explaining this and showing it in terms of the story. However, I was writing this novel at Mach speed to meet the pressures of Rising Stars, and I didn't do well enough. Therefore, I ask that you take this explanation to better understand and forgive this author for not being perfect.

Thanks for understanding! I hope to continue bringing you a story that makes your week.]