boyutpedia Chapter 842 - 456: The Rapid Collapse of the Holy Eastern Empire (2)
Chapter 842 - 456: The Rapid Collapse of the Holy Eastern Empire (2)
"Disappearance?" Seldon lowered his voice, almost squeezing the words through his teeth, "What do you mean, dead or imprisoned?"
The Knight Captain’s Adam’s apple bobbed. "The Imperial Palace has already sealed off the news, the official statement is that he was guided by the Holy Light and has entered a period of silent prayer and meditation.
But our informant says... it has been half a month since anyone last saw His Majesty."
The clamor in the banquet hall continued, the nobility apparently not hearing the whispered report, still immersed in the illusion of alcohol and power transition.
But Seldon’s world had already quieted down.
His gaze slowly lifted, passing over the long table, the flickering candlelight, and landed on the guest seat to the right.
Bishop Salomon was elegantly cutting his steak, his movements calm, as if all of this had nothing to do with him.
"Guided by the Holy Light?" Seldon’s thoughts raced, "Such nonsense, only the Church Court could concoct. Father just died, and now the Emperor disappeared?
They are clearing the field, they are removing every uncontrollable piece from the board, one by one."
Just a few minutes ago, he thought he was an ally.
A secular fulcrum used by the Church Court to balance the royal power.
Seldon suddenly realized a chilling fact.
"If even the Emperor can be erased by them... then what am I? A Regent King who still needs their public coronation, in their eyes... am I even inferior to a dog?"
An unprecedented fear climbed icily up his spine.
He tasted the weight of the phrase "lips are gone, teeth will be cold."
As if sensing his gaze, Salomon put down the knife and fork, lifted his head across the long table, and locked eyes with Seldon.
In that moment, time seemed to stretch.
Then Salomon simply raised his wine glass, offering a distant toast to Seldon.
The corner of his mouth curved into a gentle yet emotionless smile, as if to say: "Do you have any other choice?"
Seldon’s throat tightened, forcing out a smile, and he averted his gaze, tilting his head back to drain the wine in his glass.
The liquor burned his throat but couldn’t suppress the chill surging from within.
Soon, he forcibly cut off his emotions, closed his eyes, and quickly rebuilt logic in his mind.
"The Church Court eliminated the Emperor to monopolize the benefits. And where are those benefits? In taxation, in gold coins, and who holds these?"
The answer surfaced almost instinctively: "It’s me."
"Without me, they can’t open the enchanted vault, without me, the group of nobility below won’t cooperate with tax collection.
If they kill me, all they will get is a Southeast Province in administrative paralysis and cash flow disruption.
But if they keep me... they will gain a steady stream of gold coins and stable faith."
This deduction convinced him, allowing his breathing to become steady once more.
He straightened his bow tie, thoroughly suppressing the remnants of unease back into his chest, raised his wine glass, and proactively walked towards the main guest’s seat.
Salomon was elegantly wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin.
"Bishop," his voice was deep and restrained, "I am forever a loyal steward of the Church Court."
Salomon did not look at him, as if he had only heard an inconsequential report: "Very good."
......
The Duke’s funeral had just ended a few days ago, when the main door of the administrative hall was kicked open by the newly appointed Holy Tax Commissioner of the Church Court.
He was draped in a golden-embroidered red robe, followed by fifty scribes, each holding a new, blank ledger.
In his vision, this place should have neatly stored the Empire’s tax records and cadastre accumulated over fifty years, the vascular map of the Southeast Province, a place to draw blood directly.
What greeted him, however, was a black snow.
The heavy filing cabinets were pried open, empty inside.
Those recordings of land ownership, population movement, and shop water current in the "Land Measurement Records" and the "Real Tax Source List" now only remained as a layer of black ash on the ground.
The Tax Commissioner knelt down, scooping up a handful of ashes.
That was the foundation of fifty years of rule over the Southeast Province.
The Church Court occupied this land, yet they did not know where there was grain, where there was money, they held the scepter, but lost their eyes.
Of course, this did not stop the collection.
The orders from the Holy City were simple and brutal, to tax at the highest standards.
So-called administration quickly degenerated into robbery draped in sacred robes.
The tithe was quickly renamed as atonement money.
If one could not produce money, it proved impure faith, impure faith needed to be repaid with the body.
When people could not come up with money, the crime was swiftly defined as heresy for maliciously concealing divine property.
The church turned into a labor camp and slave warehouse, every copper coin stained with blood.
In another district, a leather merchant long bankrupt knelt on the ground.
The tax officer, leafing through records from ten years ago, coldly declared he owned three workshops, pleading was pointless.
"Poverty is not an excuse, it’s fraud." A knight dragged away the old man’s granddaughter in the street.
Amid the cries, the ledger was turned to the next page, the record filled in: "Deducted tax of three hundred gold coins, entered into the Holy Maiden’s convent."
And to quell the fear of devaluation of the Holy Certificate, Seldon personally presided over the opening of the Duke’s underground main vault.
A thousand citizens and believers were gathered to witness the moment of trust.
But when the searchlight pierced the darkness, the stone chamber was empty, only a few starved rat carcasses scattered on the ground.
"How could this be..." The smile on Seldon’s face froze, as if someone had publicly plunged him into ice water.
His mind went blank, yet his ears buzzed, as if all the sound of the world was fading away.