(Same Day - 3 PM - The King's Chambers)
The sound of tap… tap… tap… hammers forging wood and swish…
swish… swish… brooms cleaning debris rhythmically enveloped the palace area,
replacing the clashing of swords and the screams of warfare. Arthur slowly
opened his eyes. His vision was blurry at first, then managed to focus on
Cici's anxious face hovering above him. Beside her, an old man with whitening
hair and a attentive gaze also waited.
"Young Master! You're finally awake!" exclaimed
Cici, her breath relieved.
Arthur blinked his eyes, trying to dispel the remnants of
fatigue that still clung. "I'm fine," he muttered, his voice still
hoarse. He tried to sit up. "What time is it?"
"It is three in the afternoon, Your Majesty,"
answered the old man beside him respectfully. Arthur recalled for a moment—it
was Marcel, his father's former head servant who had verified the authenticity
of his birthmark.
Arthur nodded slowly. Slightly unsteady, he stood up and
walked towards the window. Through the broken glass, he witnessed the
post-battle scene: workers repairing the destroyed fences, soldiers sweeping
fragments of iron and wood, and several people transporting corpses on
stretchers. The wounded kingdom was trying to be bandaged.
Arthur turned around, his still pale face now filled with
determination. "Summon General Erlic, all the Viscounts, and the Duke to
the palace hall," he commanded, his voice already clearer and more
authoritative.
"At once, Your Majesty!" Marcel bowed quickly and
immediately hurried out of the room with brisk steps, a true servant who knew
his responsibilities well.
After cleaning up and putting on more decent—though
simple—clothing, Arthur walked towards the main hall. The room was still quiet.
He used the opportunity to open the oculus, viewing and searching for
information about the history of the world of Etheria, his eyes swiftly
scanning page after page, absorbing knowledge about the geopolitics, history,
and culture of the world his kingdom stood in. His analytical mind worked,
trying to understand the larger power map beyond Valoria.
About an hour passed, General Erlic was the first to arrive.
He was surprised to see his new King already standing straight by the window,
immersed in a book.
"Your Majesty, you should still be resting," Erlic
protested with a worried voice.
"It's fine, Erlic. Come in. Let's wait for the
others." He greeted him.
Soon after, the hall began to fill with the most important
nobles remaining in Valoria. They came with mixed expressions: some still
looked shocked, some full of hope, and others still held doubts. Viscount
Edward and Toroso, his loyal supporters, immediately bowed deeply. Viscount
Reynard, who was neutral, nodded respectfully with a wait-and-see attitude.
There was only one Duke in Valoria, Duke Marco Verita, an elderly man with an
upright posture and a sharp gaze full of wisdom. He attended calmly, observing
everything carefully.
Marcel approached Arthur and whispered, "Your Majesty,
everyone who could attend has gathered."
Arthur nodded. He took a deep breath. In his life, he had
never led a meeting, let alone led a kingdom. Nervousness was there, real, like
butterflies in his stomach. But he believed in logic, preparation, and
analysis. That was his weapon. His mind, trained when he was a programmer on
Earth, began to work, classifying problems, mapping solutions.
He stepped forward, facing the nobles. His voice was loud
and clear, breaking the silence.
"I, Arthur Valoria, am the rightful King of the Kingdom
of Valoria. Does anyone object?"
He paused, his eyes sweeping the entire room. Silence for a
moment, then followed by a rumbling, unanimous answer, "No, Your
Majesty!" Both the sincere and those just going with the flow.
Arthur nodded. "Thank you for your trust." His
mind kept spinning fast, controlling his nervousness by focusing on the
problems.
"Forget formalities for a moment. Our focus now is the
survival of Valoria. What are we facing now? Tell me the real situation."
The nobles looked at each other. Erlic was the first to
break the ice.
"Your Majesty, our problems pile up like a
mountain," he began bluntly. "First, the conflict with the Ethereal
Kingdom at the border isn't truly over. Our victory yesterday only made them
retreat, not surrender. They will return, and we are in a weakened state."
Viscount Edward continued, "The internal problems of
the noble families are also messy. Many families are split between supporting
Mordred or You. This could trigger small-scale civil wars if not handled."
Viscount Reynard added in a serious tone, "The
enslavement of non-human races, especially Elves, is still a common and legal
practice under Mordred. This is not just a humanitarian issue, but also a
source of rebellion and horizontal conflict."
Duke Marco Verita finally spoke, his voice weighty and
authoritative. "Your Majesty, the problems of the common people are no
less important. The education and health systems are almost collapsed. Only
noble children and the wealthy can access them. Transportation facilities are
severely damaged, hindering trade and logistics. The legal system is corrupt
and unjust, prisons are full of people sentenced for trivial charges, while
corruptors roam free. Furthermore, the economy is on the brink due to suffocating
taxes and rampant corruption."
Arthur listened carefully, noting every problem in his mind.
The list was long and terrible: threat of war, political division, human rights
violations, crumbling infrastructure, unfair social systems, and a collapsing
economy.
He stood straight, looking at the nobles one by one. His
nervousness had disappeared, replaced by the cold calm of a problem solver.
"Good," he said, his steady voice filling the
hall. "Let's get to work. We will address them one by one. There's no time
to waste."
A new act as King had begun. And its challenges, as Arthur
anticipated, were indeed very long.
Arthur listened carefully to every problem revealed. The
list was long and terrible, enough to make anyone newly holding power feel
desperate. The nobles also stared at him, waiting for the young King's
reaction.
Instead of responding immediately, Arthur turned to Marcel,
who stood faithfully beside him. "Got a cigarette?" he asked in a
flat voice.
Marcel was taken aback for a moment, but then nodded
quickly. "Of course, Your Majesty." He reached into his uniform
pocket and pulled out a pack of traditional Valorian hand-rolled cigarettes and
a lighter. With a respectful gesture, he handed them to Arthur.
SSSSHHHH… CRACKLE.
The sound of the lighter's flame broke the silence. Arthur
lit the end of his cigarette, took a deep drag, and exhaled. Smoke billowed,
forming a thin cloud in front of him. Some nobles glanced at each other with
looks of disbelief. Really? In the midst of such a crisis, the first thing his
new King does is smoke?
Arthur ignored their looks. He continued to smoke, his eyes
gazing out the broken window, as if reading a map of the problems in his head.
The atmosphere was silent, filled only by the swishing sounds from outside and
the hiss of Arthur's breath. The tension in the room was palpable, but Arthur
seemed to grow calmer. After a few final drags, he stubbed out the cigarette in
an ashtray Marcel offered.
He finally turned around, his face more authoritative after
that brief moment of reflection.
"Alright," he said, his voice clear and full of
conviction, breaking the silence. "Let's handle this one by one."
1. Ethereal Problem: "General Erlic, prepare our best
negotiation team. We will rearrange negotiations with the Ethereal Kingdom.
Offer a ceasefire and improved relations. Our focus is rebuilding Valoria, not
more war. But, keep troops on alert at the border as a precaution."
2. Slavery Problem: "Regarding the enslavement of Elves
and other non-human races, it is a barbaric practice that degrades our dignity
as humans. Effective immediately, slavery is abolished. All slaves are freed
and recognized as citizens of Valoria with equal rights. This is not a
negotiation. This is an order." His words were firm, leaving no room for
debate.
3. Mordred's Supporters Problem: "For the surrendered
Mordred loyalists, no executions. Apply the prison law. But, prison is not a
place for them to laze around. Design a work system. Let them produce something
that can be sold—carving stone, cutting wood, making crafts—to help the
kingdom's economy and add value to their punishment."
The decisions were delivered quickly and logically, making
the previously doubtful nobles begin to see flashes of wisdom in their young
King.
Arthur moved on to more complex issues. "Now, I want
concrete opinions from all of you. Education, health, law. What is the real
condition and what proposed solutions can we implement ASAP?"
He pointed to Viscount Reynard first. "Lord Reynard,
you are known for your wisdom. The legal system. What is the root problem and
how do we fix it?"
Reynard seemed honored to be chosen first. "Your
Majesty, the root problem is corruption and unclear laws. Judges can be bought.
I propose forming an independent judicial council to oversee the trial process
and revise the outdated legal code."
Arthur nodded, then turned to Viscount Edward. "Lord
Edward. Education."
Edward, more enthusiastic, answered immediately.
"School is only for the rich, Your Majesty! The commoners are ignorant and
easily deceived. We need free village schools, at least for reading, writing,
and arithmetic. Teachers can be recruited from bright students and paid by the
kingdom."
"Good," Arthur commented briefly. He then looked
at Duke Marco Verita. "Your Grace, Duke. Health and transportation. Both
are vital."
Duke Marco nodded slowly. "For health, emergency
treatment centers need to be established in every district to handle plagues
and basic injuries. For transportation, the priority is repairing the main
roads connecting major cities first to stimulate trade. The cost will be high,
but it's a necessary investment."
Arthur kept listening, nodding, and occasionally taking
notes. His analytical mind worked quickly, assembling the pieces of solutions
from his advisors into a coherent plan. The meeting, initially full of doubt,
slowly turned into a productive brainstorming session, led by a King who,
though new, knew how to listen and decide.
Brilliant ideas emerged from the nobles. Arthur nodded,
filtering each proposal with his analytical mind. Suddenly, a critical thought
crossed his mind.
"All these proposals are good. But they all require one
thing: money," Arthur said, breaking the burgeoning enthusiasm. "We
can't plan anything without knowing the true state of the nation's finances.
Marcel!"
"Yes, Your Majesty?" the head servant responded
promptly.
"Summon the Head National Accountant. I want to know
the state of the royal treasury right now."
"At once, Your Majesty!" Marcel bowed and
immediately hurried out of the hall.
Soon after, Marcel returned. Behind him followed a woman
with a neat haircut, wearing glasses, and carrying a stack of thick ledger
books. The woman looked slightly nervous but exuded an aura of competence.
"Your Majesty, may I introduce, this is Madam Erel
Vadison, Head National Accountant," said Marcel.
Before entering the hall, Marcel had briefly briefed Erel on
what had been discussed and the serious nature of the new King.
Arthur observed the woman briefly. "Madam Erel. Please
tell us the true state of the kingdom's finances. Honest and transparent."
Erel Vadison opened her main ledger, her eyes quickly
scanning the columns of numbers. "Your Majesty, Your Graces. Our financial
state is… not lacking, but there is no surplus for large projects. The royal
treasury can cover basic operational costs of the government and army for the
next few months, plus debts still payable from the previous era. However, for
building new divisions, large-scale infrastructure repairs, or even funding a
prolonged war… the budget isn't there."
The atmosphere in the hall became gloomy again. The hope
that had just emerged was immediately overshadowed by the wall named funds.
Arthur didn't look disappointed. Instead, he thought of
something. "The war artifacts and Mordred's heirlooms that are useless or
just for display… are they recorded as assets?"
Erel nodded, slightly confused. "Certainly, Your
Majesty. They are recorded in the royal storage inventory."
"Auction them off," Arthur said calmly.
"Gather all artifacts, jewelry, and luxury items that have no vital
strategic or historical value. Auction them to collectors or neighboring
kingdoms. That will be the fresh fund injection we need to start."
The gloomy faces began to brighten again. It was a simple
yet brilliant idea.
Arthur then stood up, his voice authoritative and full of
vision. "With that initial fund, I will form five main royal divisions:
Health Division, Law Division, Education Division, Infrastructure Development
Division, and Domestic Security Division."
He looked at the nobles. "Spread the job openings to
the remote villages. I don't want only noble children occupying these
positions. I want commoners, whoever they are, who have the will and real
ability in each field, to come and apply. We will test them fairly."
Then, Arthur returned to a fundamental issue. He turned to
Erel Vadison and the nobles. "One more thing. How high are the taxes
currently levied on the people? I want to know exactly."
Some nobles exchanged glances. Viscount Reynard finally
answered honestly. "Income tax for the common people can reach 20%, Your
Majesty. Plus land tax and trade tax. That's not including the 'unofficial
taxes' often extorted by corrupt officials. The total… could be close to 30-40%
of their earnings."
After hearing the suffocating tax figures, Arthur sighed.
His eyes stared at Erel Vadison's notebook as if they could burn the numbers
recorded there.
"No," he said firmly, cutting through the gloomy
silence. "We cannot build a nation by squeezing its own people. Lower the
income tax for commoners and small businesses to 10%. That is enough."
Then, he proposed a new solution. "But the kingdom
still needs revenue. Therefore, I propose a new tax: a 12% sales transaction
tax. Every time there is a transaction for goods—rice, vegetables, clothes,
anything—we take 12% of the sale value. For example, 1 kg of rice costs 10
silver, then 12 copper from that is tax for the kingdom."
Some nobles looked confused. Viscount Edward commented,
"But, Your Majesty, how to collect it? Ordinary people won't record such
small transactions."
Arthur smiled, seeing this as an opportunity. "That's
exactly the point. Announce this rule throughout the kingdom. Give a deadline.
And require merchants to record every transaction. I believe merchants, however
small, already have basic writing and arithmetic skills for their trade. This
will force them to be literate in simple administration. Those records will
later become the basis for calculating the tax they submit to royal
officials."
He looked at Erel Vadison. "Madam Erel, make the
reporting system as simple as possible. It must be easy to understand and
monitor."
This solution was fairer because the tax burden shifted to
consumption activity, and those who shopped more would pay more. Additionally,
it encouraged a culture of recording and transparency among merchants.
Then, Arthur returned to the recruitment topic. "For
the five divisions we will form—Health, Law, Education, Development,
Security—after the candidates pass the ability test, I will interview every
passing candidate personally."
This time, Erlic couldn't hold back. "Your Majesty,
that will take a very long time! Allow us, your advisors, to do the final
selection."
Arthur looked at Erlic, not with anger, but with deep
conviction. "This is not about distrusting your abilities, Erlic. This is
about ensuring a strong foundation for our country. I want to ensure myself
that the people who will hold the main pillars of this kingdom have the
integrity, vision, and spirit that align with ours. I want them to hear my
vision directly, and I want to see the fire in their eyes. We are not just
building a country, we are building a Valoria that will become an example to the
world. And that starts with choosing the best people first-hand."
His words were full of passion and authority, making all
objections in the room immediately die down. They were no longer facing a
nervous young man, but a King who knew exactly what he was doing and why he was
doing it.
The hall, which was initially filled with discussion, now
fell silent. Only Arthur, Marcel, and Erel Vadison remained. The sound of the
departing nobles' footsteps slowly faded, leaving an almost heavy silence.
Arthur let out a long sigh, disturbing the silence.
"Marcel," he said, his voice sounding more tired than he wanted to
show in public.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Cigarette. Another one."
Marcel reached for his uniform pocket, but his hand trembled
slightly. He took out a cigarette but didn't immediately hand it over.
"Your Majesty… this… this is not good for your health. You just recovered
from serious injuries. Your body needs—"
Arthur cut him off. In his eyes, shadows of his past as a
programmer on Earth flickered; staying up late solving logic and coding
problems, with cigarette smoke and nicotine as faithful companions that spurred
inspiration.
He answered calmly, "Is that so, Marcel? But you see,
for me, this cigarette is not just a bad habit. It is inspiration driven. I am
willing to be sick later due to smoking, as long as today, now, I can get clear
and sharp ideas to give my best for this kingdom. That is a trade-off I
accept."
Marcel fell silent, then obediently lit the cigarette for
his King. Smoke billowed again, forming a cloud of thought around Arthur.
Taking a deep drag, Arthur looked at Erel Vadison.
"Earlier, about how to collect taxes. Marcel, you said soldiers visit
people's homes and take a percentage of their savings?"
"Correct, Your Majesty," answered Marcel.
"That's the way it has been for decades."
Arthur frowned, his face showing clear disapproval.
"That's the wrong way. Very wrong. That's not collecting tax, that's
robbery. It creates fear and hatred. We need to build a transparent and fair
system."
He stood up, started pacing back and forth while smoking,
his mind working quickly.
"This is what we will do. Erel, I want you to form a
Royal Accountant Division."
Erel gaped. "A division… of accountants, Your
Majesty?"
"Yes. Recruit people who are good at calculations, from
anywhere. Not just from the nobility. Conduct a thorough population census
first. Record every head of household, profession, and their estimated gross
income. This is to get baseline data."
Arthur continued explaining, his vision becoming clearer.
"After the census is complete, set up tax service posts at strategic
points in every district. They can be small offices or even permanent tents
managed by members of your division, Erel."
"Then, announce to all the people: At the end of every
month, they must come themselves to the nearest service post to report their
income and pay taxes based on that report."
Marcel and Erel exchanged glances, their faces filled with
deep doubt.
"Your Majesty, forgive us," said Erel carefully.
"But… is that possible? Will the people be honest? Will they come
willingly? Won't this just complicate things?"
"Anything is possible, Marcel," Arthur countered
with steely conviction, leaving behind the shadows of his past filled with
"debugging" and solving "impossible" problems. "The
key is to make the system easy and fair. Provide incentives. For example, for
those who pay on time, give a 2% discount. Also impose clear sanctions. For
those caught reporting false income, impose heavy fines. For those who pay
late, there is a daily late fee."
He added the details, "Provide very simple reporting
forms. Just need to fill in name, profession, total monthly income, and amount
of tax due (10% of income). The accountant officer at the post's job is to help
those who can't read and write and to verify data with random samples. Soldiers
don't need to get involved, except to arrest those who default or cheat after
warnings."
"In the end," concluded Arthur, exhaling his last
smoke, "this is about trust and responsibility. We trust the people to be
honest, and we ask them to be responsible. This will build their trust in the
new kingdom. We change tax from something feared into a national obligation
performed proudly."
Marcel and Erel still looked skeptical, but they could also
see the logic behind the radical idea. They saw the fire of conviction in their
King's eyes, a conviction born from a way of thinking completely foreign to
them, yet sounding very reasonable.
"Very well, Your Majesty," Erel said softly,
finally noting all the instructions. "We will immediately draft the
detailed proposal."
Arthur nodded. "Good. Get to work. We don't have much
time." After Erel Vadison left with a pile of new tasks, the hall fell
completely silent, occupied only by Arthur and Marcel. Arthur's last cigarette
smoke curled slowly before he finally stubbed it out in the ashtray.
He looked at Marcel, who was still faithfully waiting for
orders. "Marcel, there are two more very important things," said
Arthur, his voice already authoritative again even though his body was still
tired.
"Command me, Your Majesty."
"First, schedule a meeting with the Leader of the Magic
Tower. I want to meet the Archmage or whoever leads them as soon as possible.
Tell them, the new King of Valoria wants to discuss the future of our
relationship, and the role and contribution of the Magic Tower in rebuilding
the kingdom." Arthur realized magical power was another backbone of a
kingdom, besides army and economy. They could not be ignored.
"Secondly," he continued, "gather the largest
merchants and entrepreneurs in the capital. The conglomerates who control the
trade of grain, textiles, metal, and other commodities. I want to meet them in
an open forum tomorrow or the day after."
Marcel gaped. "Merchants, Your Majesty? Usually, they
are the ones who audience the king upon special summons, not—"
"'Usually' is a word that no longer applies,
Marcel," Arthur interjected gently but firmly. "They are the
lifeblood of the economy. The new 12% sales tax system will greatly affect
them. I need to explain it directly, hear their complaints, and convince them
that this policy will actually expand the market and make the economy healthier
in the long run. They need to become partners of the kingdom, not parties only
suspected."
Arthur paused for a moment, then added with a thin smile,
"And who knows, maybe some of them are willing to donate or invest in
development projects as a form of their corporate social responsibility."
Marcel nodded slowly, beginning to understand Arthur's
different vision. "Corporate… social… responsibility?" he muttered,
trying to understand the foreign phrase.
"Don't worry about that for now, Marcel. The important
thing is, arrange those two meetings. For the merchants, make the event
semi-formal. Provide good food and drinks. Show that we value their time and
contribution."
"Understood, Your Majesty. I will carry it out
immediately," answered Marcel with a deep bow. He turned to leave, but
then stopped and looked back once more. "And… Your Majesty… please take
care of your health. Valoria needs you for a long time."
Arthur nodded, appreciating the concern. "Don't worry,
Marcel. I am strong. Now, go."
After Marcel left, Arthur finally allowed himself to lean
back in his chair. Fatigue hit him, but his mind still spun fast—about the
mysterious Magic Tower, about the cunning merchants, about taxes, about the new
divisions, and about the millions of people now placing their hopes on him.
He took a deep breath and cursed inwardly, "I thought
leading a kingdom was easy." The challenges were indeed still very long.