Chapter 257: The Collapse of the Imperial Capital Commercial Guild

The meeting hall of the Citizen Council.

Hayaba rushed in and immediately reported to the council.

From the duel in the Colosseum between Landsknecht and his group versus Lord Polydoro, to Claudia von Reckenber’s speech—every detail was conveyed to the council members.

“Did Landsknecht lose?”

“Well, I had anticipated that possibility, so that’s not the issue. The problem is—the fact that they’ve defected!”

A resounding slap on the desk echoed.

Several council members began murmuring, as if to say, “That’s not what we agreed on.”

“I don’t mind if Lord Polydoro wins. In our deal with Valiere, his defeat would have been ideal—but that in itself is of no consequence. It’s not important.”

Ideally, Lord Polydoro should have lost. The less military power Valiere possesses, the better. But in the end, it’s merely about individual combat strength—it wasn’t a form of violence worthy of serious consideration. What really matters is—Landsknecht and his group.

“But why on earth did Landsknecht and his men defect? They only lost to Lord Polydoro—so why would they do this?”

The sequence of events just doesn’t add up. Are you suggesting that Claudia von Reckenber possessed such charisma?

“Those scumbags—henceforth, they’ll serve only Claudia von Reckenber. They won’t follow the orders of the Citizen Council. Even if we demand a refund of their advance—”

“Who do you think has been feeding them for free all this time? They don’t even intend to repay their debt! Ungrateful wretches!”

Everyone was left dumbfounded. Landsknecht and his entire group had betrayed us. Not one among the private enforcers maintained by the Citizen Council remained. Now that we’ve lost Reckenber, every last one of those disorganized rabble cried out in unison:

“We will no longer associate with the Citizen Council. Our ties are cut.”

Of course, the council members weren’t exactly devoid of personal enforcers, but—

“What do we do? At this rate, we won’t be able to hold our own against Valiere’s 3,000 enforcers! Even if they’re weak, after setting fire to the newspaper office, they’ll surely escalate their actions.”

One of the neutral council members spoke up. Though she framed it as a question—“What should we do?”—for her, the decision had already been made.

“Let’s just admit defeat. It’s ridiculous. We should have agreed on a fair price from the start.”

One of the moderates chimed in, scanning the room as if to say, “That should have been the plan from the beginning.”

“But that’ll just make us seem weak!”

A hardliner protested, but no one echoed her sentiment. They lacked any kind of muscle—a fatal flaw in negotiations. Negotiations only work if they are either fully under the protection of the law or if both sides have some form of violent leverage.

“We’ve discussed this time and again. What’s the point of being a merchant—or calling it a negotiation—if we’re not aiming for maximum profit? And right now, the path to maximum profit has collapsed. That’s it. Let’s call it a day.”

Pan-pan!

One of the council members clapped her hands. She was also a hardliner, though by no means inept. Having understood the situation, she quickly decided to cut her losses.

“Without any further haggling over the price, let’s just comply with Valiere’s—well, considering that the de facto negotiator is the bandit knight Amelia von Berlichingen. We’ve done all we can, haven’t we?”

“Will Valiere accept that without a fight? We’ve lost our leverage of force, you know!”

“I say it again, I’ve seen through Valiere’s leniency. There’s nothing to worry about.”

In response to the moderates, the hardliner continued:

“You know, it’s always like this when we get down to these discussions—” She looked around at everyone. Then, with complete confidence, she declared: “Surely, one of us must have sent a letter to Valiere. When the time comes—so that I can secure a ‘wonderful negotiation’ that benefits only me—step forward quickly. This time, I’ll allow it.”

For the Citizen Council, this was nothing new. Once again, it was business as usual. Someone hadn’t exactly betrayed us, but had communicated with the opposing side. That individual then took on the role of negotiator to arrange the terms—all for the sake of better profit. And so, once again, they waited for someone to come forward.

“Unfortunately, the letter was probably burned. That leaves us with no negotiations. I tried to arrange a backchannel discussion, but got no response.”

Upon hearing that from one of the moderates, everyone stared in shock.

“Burned?”

“On Valiere’s side, they never intended to negotiate with Berlichingen from the start. In hindsight, that’s exactly what they were aiming for. They used Lord Polydoro’s duel as a trigger to seize our means of force—to completely take over Landsknecht’s group.”

“Hey, you don’t mean—”

Is everything unfolding according to Valiere’s plan? They set fire to the newspaper office and spread our scandals. Then they stole away Landsknecht, our means of resistance. And finally—

“Surely, you can’t be planning something that cruel, can you?”

No way, no way. The hardliner laughed dismissively, while the moderates—wearing anxious expressions—did not smile in the slightest.

“I’m sorry, but we need to get out of here immediately. If we stay here, who knows what might happen to us. I don’t know what methods they’ll resort to, but even if it means conceding to exorbitant price demands, I’d rather save my life.”

“What are you so timid about! We are the proud Imperial Capital Commercial Guild! We are the Citizen Council! We pull the strings of both business and politics in this capital! We even once held the emperor’s husband and child hostage!”

The moderates were no longer listening.

They stood up and, as if seizing their final chance, dashed off. At the mere mention that they had taken the emperor’s kin as hostages, they panicked and fled. Ah, as if to say that their crime had now come back as retribution.

“Cowards!”

The hardliners cursed.

“Anyway, let’s contact Valiere immediately—no, contact Your Highness Valiere! Ignore that Berlichingen bastard. As long as we can speak directly with her, everything else can be worked out!”

At that moment, there was the sound of an explosion. It was the roar of a cannon firing.

“What!?”

In the instant we turned at the sound, several holes were blasted into the meeting hall wall, and the bodies of the standing hardliners were blown apart. They lost all human function, exploding into nothing but bags of blood.

“Eek!?”

Clutching their heads, everyone in the council hid under the desks.

“What was that? What happened!?” “It’s obvious—it’s Valiere’s doing! They must have decided we had no means of force!”

They had come to kill us. As if thinking that by sacrificing a few lives, negotiations would become easier—yes, they had come to kill us!

“They resorted to violence—directly beating us to force money out of us!” “This is inside the city walls! In the Imperial Capital! Where did they even get a cannon!!” “Who cares! Besides, you—”

A second shot. This time, no one was safe even if crouched under a desk—the floor itself was blown away. Once again, several council members’ bodies exploded into bags of blood.

“Eeeeek!”

Something thudded as it rolled across the floor. It was dozens of iron balls—spent musket balls that had lost all their kinetic energy—scattered across the council floor. They were canister shots developed by the Cologne Sect, and they were soaked in blood.

“――The Imperial Capital Commercial Guild admits defeat!”

Someone shouted. Whose voice it was no longer mattered. It was impossible to tell how many had died; by now, the hardliners, neutrals, and moderates alike were virtually non-existent. All that remained was——

“Stop it, please stop it already!!” “We lose, we’ll pay any amount of money!!”

It was a plea for mercy—there was nothing else they could do. Against the madmen who had invaded the Imperial Capital and casually fired cannons upon the Commercial Guild to commit slaughter, what other recourse was there?

“So please, just stop it!”

In the end, the faces of the Imperial Capital Commercial Guild and the Citizen Council meant nothing here. Life was far more important. If we die, there will be no more profit to be made. That’s precisely why they raised their voices.

“Our defeat!!” The cries for mercy.

※

“Wonderful.”

Clap, clap, clap.

Clapping came from Duchess Astarte, and it was the artillerymen who were clapping. They were the very artillerymen raised under the command of Duke Temeraire. The plan to suddenly bring a cannon near the meeting hall, along with the perfectly executed firing procedure, was flawless.

Astarte loves capable people with all her heart. That is why she lavishly bestowed praise—even to an exaggerated degree.

“What are we to do with these pleas for mercy?”

Anastasia remarked indifferently. To her, they were nothing more than enemies of her beloved little sister Valiere, and she didn’t care how many of the Imperial Capital’s subjects dropped dead. All that mattered was that the fruit Valiere could reap from these negotiations—the “appropriate price” for the vast amount of trade goods she brought into the capital—became even more favorable.

“It might be better if fewer of them remained, but—at this point, we can’t even tell how many have perished.”

“Kill about half of them. It’s too risky to kill everyone, but half is just right. This will both avenge our father’s death and secure the political control of the Imperial Capital. That’s exactly what Emperor Maxine has instructed.”

After all, the indiscriminate cannon fire in the capital is permitted.

“We must fulfill the emperor’s wishes. Let’s go and see—if about half are dead, that’s acceptable. We can’t have too many dead, though.”

“What if it’s less than half?”

No need to ask, yet Anastasia did.

“If fewer than half are dead, then we’ll just kill a few more.”

“That’s an outrageously brutal way of thinking. Besides, don’t fire a cannon within the city walls in the first place.”

Anastasia made a very valid point.

“I just wanted to test this out. Well, I must say, this will change the battlefield!”

Astarte looked at the cannon with delight. It was a massive cannon capable of firing canister shots developed by the Cologne Sect.

“Martina’s theory is correct. We needed to verify it—and this will provide excellent persuasive material for the emperor.”

“Is the Imperial Capital Commercial Guild to be their sacrifice?”

“Of course. The emperor will undoubtedly take an interest in any means that avenges our father’s death.”

Astarte spoke gleefully. She was truly overjoyed—so much so that, if she weren’t carried away by the heat of excitement, she might have patted the side of the cannon repeatedly.

“Martina had prepared the theory. The Cologne Sect had developed the cannon and its shrapnel. Duke Temeraire had supplied the artillerymen. Is this all mere coincidence? Or is it simply the course of history?”

“Everyone had been thinking the same thing. It is merely the era that has made this possible.”

Anastasia sighed as she replied, then looked at the meeting hall once the cannon smoke had cleared. The stately mansion of the hall lay in ruins, irreparably damaged by just two rounds of shrapnel.

“——”

Is this really violence that a person should be allowed to wield? Would it not rob the knights—who had built a world of splendor and magical beauty on the battlefield—of their radiance? Unlike the exuberant Astarte, Anastasia pondered this for a brief moment.

“…But it is necessary to protect the kingdom.”

She is the future Queen of Anhalt. Any hesitation vanished in an instant as she considered how best to integrate this into her forces, leaving the subsequent handling entirely to Astarte.