Chapter 142: Relentless Industry
The Evernight Empire, The Department of State Affairs.
A Vampire civil servant was currently substituting gliding for running, blurring through the corridors at high velocity. He clutched a stack of documents piled higher than his own head.
"Out of my way! Make way!"
"The envoys from the Dwarven Kingdom have arrived to surrender! Who is assigned to reception?!"
His cries went unanswered. The hallway was a hive of other Vampires moving with the same frantic speed, interspersed with Skeleton Messengers darting between the gaps like silver fish.
A registration clerk—another Vampire—peeked out from behind a literal mountain of parchment. His voice was thick with a fatigue that defied his immortal nature.
"Dwarves? Get in line! Send them to Reception Room 3 and tell them to wait!"
"Tell them the messengers from the Beastman Union are ahead of them. So are the Elders of the Swamp Lizardmen, and some 'Emergency Survival Coalition' formed by a dozen pathetic minor kingdoms!"
"If they want to surrender, they can wait their turn!"
As he barked his reply, another Vampire skidded to the desk, dumping a fresh load of scrolls onto the pile. The registrar snatched the top one, scanned the title, and tossed it into an even larger pile to his left.
The second Vampire yanked a specific document from the stack.
"Urgent dispatch from the Eastern Border!"
"Refugees outside the pass have completely blocked the three main highways!"
"Preliminary headcount exceeds five hundred thousand!"
"They've stripped the bark off every tree in the vicinity to eat! If we don't act, we'll have a riot of the damned on our hands!"
The registrar didn't even lift his quill.
"Dispatch the Punishment Legion. Tell them to establish a perimeter and maintain order by any means necessary."
"Send word to the refugees: if they wish to enter the Evernight Empire, they queue for registration. Every soul must be recorded."
"Food distribution will be handled by the Aegis Legion."
"Tell the Punishment Legion that anyone who attempts to snatch rations out of turn is to be executed on the spot. No report necessary."
The registrar had been working for seven consecutive days and nights. Vampires did not require sleep, but the sheer cognitive load was making his brain vibrate with phantom pain.
"We are critically understaffed! The Empire's borders have expanded ten times over in a week!"
"Every pass, every city, every village needs an administrator! Where are we supposed to manifest that many bodies?!"
The registrar finally stopped his writing. He lifted his head, his eyes dull and devoid of highlights as he stared at his colleague.
"Is that a question for you to worry about?"
"Our duty is to execute commands."
"Quit complaining. Organize the data and send a summary to General Greed. Now, get those Dwarves to Room 3."
The junior official opened his mouth to argue, then saw the look in the registrar's eyes and swallowed his words. He straightened his rumpled suit and sprinted toward the entrance.
The entire Department of State was like a hive that had been struck by a boulder; thousands of "worker bees" were frantically trying to keep the machine from seizing up.
Greed's Office.
Here, the documents had been stacked until they reached the ceiling. Skele-Greed sat behind his desk, his speed in processing the files bordering on the supernatural. His hands moved through the air, leaving only blurred trails in their wake.
A knock thudded against the door. A fellow blood-kin entered, carrying a fresh load of paperwork. He dropped them near the door—there was nowhere left to walk in the room.
"General, these are the formal letters of submission received this morning. Thirty-seven in total."
"Furthermore, Speaker Valerius of Freeport has been waiting in the hall for five hours. How should we proceed?"
Greed didn't look up. "Let him wait."
"Understood."
The messenger withdrew, closing the door softly. Greed closed his eyes, extending a thread of his consciousness through the Soul Link. It crossed the vast distance to the depths of the Valley Base.
"Master."
Kaito's voice resonated in his mind, sounding lazy, as if he had just woken from a nap.
"Speak."
Greed's report was surgical. "Master, the number of surrendering nations is excessive. Our territorial expansion has exceeded the current limits of our administrative capacity. Do you require a secondary 'Purge' to reduce the overhead?"
There was a pause from the other side. Kaito was likely thinking—or just rolling over in his coffin. A moment later, his voice returned.
"Transition all surrendering nations into Vassal States."
"Dispatch observers. They don't need many—two per city will suffice. Tell the locals to form their own councils and abolish their nobility. Teach them our development model and tell them to copy it. Let them govern themselves."
Greed analyzed the feasibility. "Master, what if they fail to learn? Or if they engage in deliberate sabotage and delay?"
Kaito's reply held no hesitation.
"Then we find a new batch of students."
"Tell the newly appointed councilmen that local security is their responsibility. Seventy percent of collected taxes stay in the territory for infrastructure; thirty percent is tithed to the Empire. And the ledgers must be transparent."
"Every quarter, the accounts must be posted on the public boards in their town squares. Anyone—peasant or merchant—has the right to inspect them."
"I will have Sloth establish an Audit Department within the Shadow Guard. They will conduct unscheduled inspections of every vassal state. If a single copper is missing from the books, the observer has the authority to dissolve the council on the spot and hand-pick new representatives from the citizen pool."
Inside Greed's mind, a massive, clockwork framework for continental governance snapped into place. Minimum administrative cost. Maximum efficiency of rule. Bind them with profit, restrain them with rules, and use the shadow of fear as the final rein.
Brilliant, Greed thought.
"Understood, Master."
The link snapped shut. Greed opened his eyes. He stood up and pulled open his office doors. The Vampires scurrying in the hall froze, bowing low.
"Pass my orders," Greed's voice cut through the noise.
"First: All civil servants in the Department of State are to cease processing individual submission papers. Organize the representatives by region and invite them collectively to Conference Hall 1."
"Second: Notify the Bureau of Logistics. Effective immediately, begin shipments of grain and medicine to every border crossing. Establish temporary sanctuary zones and receive all refugees."
"Once their identities are recorded, dispatch them in waves to the various vassal states to serve as the initial labor force for reconstruction."
"Third: Send Valerius of Freeport in."
The Vampires in the hall stared for a heartbeat. Then, with a frantic energy, they began executing the new directives.
Greed ignored them, returning to his desk.
Minutes later, Valerius, Speaker of the Merchant Coalition, was led into the room by a Ghoul. The fat merchant, who held the power of life and death in Freeport, was currently as humble as a kitchen apprentice. He carefully maneuvered around the piles of paper on the floor and offered a bow so deep his chin nearly touched his belt.
"Respected General, Valerius offers his highest esteem."
Greed didn't look up, his quill flying across a fresh sheet of parchment. The only sound in the room was the scratch-scratch of the nib. Valerius stood perfectly still, beads of sweat dripping from his brow, not daring to raise a hand to wipe them.
Finally, Greed stopped. He looked at the fat man.
"Speaker Valerius."
"H-here, My Lord! I am here!"
"The Merchant Coalition has been performing... adequately lately."
Those words caused Valerius's muscles to go slack with relief. They had gambled correctly. Freeport would not be burned.
"To share the Master's burden is the Coalition's supreme honor!"
Greed picked up a document and slid it across the desk. "This is the Empire's new Currency Reform Initiative."
Valerius reached out with both hands, receiving it reverently.
"All vassal states shall transition to a unified currency: Evernight Gold, Silver, and Copper. The Sunflower Merchant Guild, as the Empire's sole designated trade arm, is responsible for all coin reclamation and exchange operations."
"I am giving you one month to assist the Sunflower Guild in completing this transition. In thirty days, I want to see the Empire's currency in circulation in every corner of this continent."
"Succeed, and the Coalition's past... 'oversights' shall be struck from the record."
"Fail, and..."
Greed didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.
Valerius squeezed his eyes shut and shouted with the last of his breath, "WE SHALL SUCCEED! GUARANTEED!"
"Excellent."
Greed's gaze bypassed Valerius, looking toward the door.
"Next."
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