Chapter 49. In the Name of the People

Three days after Carolus and his forces launched their close protection coup d'état.

The confusion in the Capital caused by the sudden military uprising and large-scale arrests quickly subsided. It was a sudden event, but something they had experienced before.

The citizens, who had endured a two-month siege and experienced starvation, quickly adapted to the new upheaval. They were a bit startled at the time, as it happened in the middle of the night, but it was over quickly, wasn't it?

The King remained the same, and the system remained the same. There were no new taxes or forced labor.

The only difference was that some areas of the Capital became a little quieter. Now, all they had to do was live their daily lives as usual.

That's what everyone thought, until...

"Hey! Did you see the notice posted in the square?!"

"Knowing I can't read, why are you asking me that? What does it say?"

"Well, it says that Deputy Speaker Roytel has--"

Suddenly, strange news began to be announced.

[To the patriotic citizens of Ulanor.

The Revolutionary Army, which has been biding its time, launched a coordinated operation in the pre-dawn hours of December 3rd to seize control of the nation's administrative and legislative bodies, and subsequently arrested the nobility residing in the Capital.

We rose up because we judged that the corrupt and incompetent Royal Family and the established ruling class could no longer be entrusted with the fate of the nation and its people. To overcome the crisis of our nation, which wanders on the precipice of destruction--]

Numerous proclamations and declarations plastered all over the Royal Capital made the same assertions.

The current war, they claimed, was a result of the debauched Crown Prince and the foolish King’s blunders, and the nobility had colluded with them to secure vast political and economic special interests.

The Emperor of the Empire had only raised his army to avenge his insulted child, and the Royal Family, to save face, had deliberately concealed this fact and forced the commoners to participate in the war.

Upon learning this truth, Carolus von Roytel and the Revolutionary Army, enraged by the ruling class that had deceived them, launched the coup d'état and now intend to arrest and punish those responsible.

News that shattered the worldview that most citizens of The Kingdom had lived by all their lives emerged one after another.

To flaunt their justification and legitimacy, they even invoked the names of the Supreme Council for National Reconstruction and the Assembly.

"....So, my brother was dragged off to The North and killed because of that damn Crown Prince's dick?"

"For ten years, we've been paying war taxes to the point of ruining our family... and you're saying that tax shouldn't have existed in the first place?"

"All this time, we thought the Empire were the bad guys, but we were the real bastards? And they've been hiding it this whole time?"

Naturally, the shock was profound. To deny the values and concepts of good and evil that one has lived by is tantamount to denying one's entire life and existence.

Even the most mentally sound and rational person would find it difficult to accept. Much less the majority of people who are not.

Thus, those who could not accept the truth began to deny reality altogether.

"I don't believe it! Where's the guarantee that these people aren't all lying? They could just be making up nonsense because they want power!!"

"Even so, how could His Majesty have done such an absurd thing? This is all fabrication, fabrication!"

"Those traitors, now they're resorting to pathetic tricks! If the late King could see this pitiful display, how heartbroken he would be!"

They praised the real criminals as if they were flawless saints and condemned those who had risen up to save the nation as villains.

Simply out of fear of losing the common sense they had always believed in.

They refused to accept the truth as it was, denying even the most obvious causal relationships.

However, such behavior could not last long.

The methods employed by Carolus and his forces were not limited to just one.

"If you have the time, please come and listen! A poetry recital on General Roytel!"

"I will publish a special long-form editorial covering the Revolutionary Army's process of reaching its patriotic decision!"

"The street bards and clowns are all talking about the coup d'état. And with a thoroughly anti-Royal Family tone!"

An amazing medieval fantasy world without telephones, internet, or newspapers.

In such an era, the mediums that can influence the public, the so-called 'media,' are not common.

At best, there are posters put up in crowded places, magazines published for intellectuals to read amongst themselves, and occasional cultural events. Oh, and the network of street performers.

Carolus had secured all of these, directly or indirectly.

Camilla's republican faction had been leading public opinion among the intellectuals even before joining forces. Naturally, they had their own magazine.

As for the posters, he bought out printing houses and flooded the streets with them.

And the performers? Most of them are short on money, so if you sponsor them appropriately and give them work, they'll do it diligently on their own.

'This effectively monopolizes the flow of information in the Royal Capital.'

The state mobilizes all its media outlets, turning them into its own personal mouthpieces. Propaganda tactics favored by old military juntas and dictatorships. Crude and simple, but undeniably effective.

When everyone is parroting the same message, no one's convictions can hold out for long.

At first, you try to resist believing it, but as time goes on, your certainty dwindles, and you start to wonder if you’re the one who’s wrong.

"Extra! Extra! Public trials will be held in the southern plaza starting the day after tomorrow! Everyone is welcome to attend!!"

After about ten days of shaping and stewing public opinion…

The public trials of the captured nobility finally began.

* * * * *

'Damn. Why am I going through this?!'

Inside the prison wagon on the way to the courthouse, Viscount Arshakh, bound in handcuffs and shackles, couldn't suppress his feelings of injustice and frustration.

'I told you about the Royal Family's dirty laundry! I told you about the nobility's crimes! I even told you about the dealings between the Blue Bloods! I gave you everything!!'

When Brigadier General Kais's Intelligence Department conducted an internal investigation and Carolus departed for the Empire, most of the Blue Bloods engaged in covering up the facts and silencing anyone involved.

It was obvious that those who learned of their disgrace wouldn't forgive them, and they believed there was still hope.

If they could successfully assassinate Carolus within the Negotiation Team dispatched to the Empire, the faction he had built would collapse, and they could return to the good old days.

After all, Carolus was the heart and soul of that ragtag bunch. Without their leader, the investigations and inspections would inevitably fizzle out.

However, Viscount Arshakh was an exception.

'That damn daughter of mine. Useless to the very end.'

His eldest daughter, Camilla, was a close associate of Carolus and also served as a leader of the Third Estate's Members of Parliament.

Because of this, the Arshakh family had long been classified as pro-Revolutionary Army within aristocratic society, regardless of the head of the family's actual leanings or opinions.

It was clear that if he stayed put, his family would be ruined once the nobility regained power.

Thus, the Viscount made a decision. He would switch sides.

Since he was treated as an outsider among the Blue Bloods anyway, he needed to make allies if he wanted to survive—allies who would protect him, regardless of political affiliations or personal preferences.

'They were so happy to receive the information. And now they stab me in the back…'

So, he spilled everything—all the dirty laundry and secrets that the Blue Bloods had tried so hard to hide.

He scraped together everything he knew and handed it over to the Intelligence Department.

Most of it was testimony or records of verbal agreements, as physical evidence was difficult to obtain, but he did his best.

Their reaction at the time had certainly been positive. They even promised him leniency and compensation for his significant contribution… but now, he was in this predicament.

He felt a pang of sadness, thinking that there was no one to trust in this world. Was he destined to fall from grace?

'It's alright. There's still hope.'

Viscount Arshakh, however, hadn't lost hope. Though not as skilled as his wretched daughter, he was confident in his eloquence and self-promotion.

Since they said he was going to trial, he would use it as an opportunity to prove his contributions.

He would embellish and exaggerate everything he had done for the Revolutionary Army and the commoners before the judges and prosecutors.

If he could convince them that he wasn’t just another greedy member of the ruling class, it wouldn’t be difficult to be acquitted and even praised.

Trying to conjure up a hopeful scenario, the Viscount struggled to control his fear.

Finally, the wagon stopped.

"We've arrived. The prisoner, come out."

The moment he cautiously stepped outside, he saw it.

"Waaaaah!!!"

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!!"

"Execute him! Execute them all without question!! Throwing them into lava alive wouldn’t be enough!!"

A crowd consumed by madness, incessantly chanting for death.

Criminals being sentenced and dragged away without even a chance to defend themselves.

A wagon filled with corpses waiting next to the courthouse.

This wasn’t a place for proper punishment. It was nothing more than an execution ground where they chose how to take lives.