Inside the bustling factory, Howard wore a secretive expression as he whispered to the coworker at the workstation beside him, "Have you heard? Word is, the higher-ups are sending us a new supervisor."
"Is Lord Datou stepping down?"
"Of course not. Since the last round of hiring, Plant No. 4 has hundreds of workers. How could an ogre like Lord Datou manage all of them alone? He applied to the top for a few supervisors to help keep us in line."
"Tsk, tsk... I really envy those lords," Chris, his coworker, couldn't help sighing. "Sitting in their offices every day, eating and drinking their fill, pulling in more pay than all of us combined."
"No use envying them. Who told them to be dragonblood nobles? Folk like us should be glad just to have food on the table. Back under the Principality of Lakeman, we'd have been lucky to survive the winter."
"I just wonder what sort of temper this new supervisor has—whether they'll cut us some slack..." Howard expertly sealed the lid onto a can and set it onto the assembly line, speaking offhandedly as his hands flew.
Just as he was working with gusto, a familiar voice called out from behind, followed by a pat on the shoulder.
"Howard, long time no see."
"George—!"
Howard recognized the voice instantly, turned around in delight, and blurted out the familiar name.
Yet what he saw left him stunned. His old friend had become a stranger. The man stood clad in a sumptuous gray formal suit, wearing a wool scarf that only the wealthy could afford, and even held an exquisite gentleman's cane—a world apart from the taciturn, honest George of his memories.
Howard had fantasized countless times about how wonderful life would be if he were the lucky one. In casual chats, he had often spoken of the "enviable George," using his friend's good fortune as bragging material. But now, the cold reality stared him in the face.
They belonged to different worlds now.
Howard froze. His lips quivered slightly, and his head dipped down involuntarily.
In the next breath, he hastily tacked two words onto his exclamation: "...my lord."
"Lord George, it really has been a long time."
The surrounding workers were also drawn by George's triumphant return in fine clothes, turning their envious or jealous gazes upon him.
George felt a sudden chill, acutely aware of the distance carved out by his change in status. Still, he straightened his lapels and picked up where Howard left off.
His voice was fairly loud, intended not just for Howard, but for the more than thirty workers in the workshop.
"I didn't come here today just to visit an old friend, though."
"The kingdom's administration has been recruiting factory supervisors. Since I happened to have experience working here, I volunteered to take up the post."
"I know the work here, and I understand how you all feel. I hope that in the days ahead, we can make progress together, work more efficiently and proactively, and strive side by side for the glorious cause of the kingdom."
He had rehearsed these lines for a long time, yet he still stumbled slightly over the words. Fortunately, it hardly mattered; all the workers' attention was fixed on him.
George paused and cleared his throat deliberately.
"Of course, having been a worker myself, I won't mistreat anyone. The performance bonuses outlined in the regulations will be paid out as usual."
Clap, clap, clap!
"Hear, hear!"
Scattered applause rang out. George turned to look and saw Howard clapping with all his might.
Immediately, the rest of the workers in the shop joined in, putting on displays of great satisfaction with their new overseer—after all, this transformed "Lord George" held the power over their paychecks.
Howard quickly shook off his momentary stiffness and adjusted to the shift in hierarchy, even feeling a quiet thrill at having a connection to someone important.
Watching the flattering smiles plastered across those familiar faces, George felt a swell of mixed emotions. Not knowing what else to say, he could only smile and clap along.
***
*Smack!*
Grand Duke Leo slammed his heavy hand onto the desk, cracking the solid birch surface.
On the desk lay a sheet of white paper detailing the recent trade figures of the Principality of Bosque. The outflow of gold was practically immeasurable.
"Those greedy merchants ought to be strung up on the gallows, every last one of them!"
"And those foolish commoners—do they even realize they're funding the enemy?! Every copper they spend ends up in that red dragon's pockets, turning into military funds for his monster legions! Turning into the very tools that will destroy their homes!"
Count Trischka offered a helpless, bitter smile. "Your Grace... there are some truths that must be said."
"The local cotton coats are mediocre in quality, yet they cost more than seven times as much as those from the Kingdom of Cinders. In the face of such enormous profits, merchants will gladly risk the noose to smuggle and sell them. What is more, we signed a treaty long ago; we cannot openly attack the Kingdom of Cinders' merchant caravans."
"I must remind you... that nation ruled by the red dragon is no longer a monster den in the traditional sense. The influence of this colossus has spread across all of Anzeta. Its goods, tools, and even its culture have become an essential part of how the Northlands function."
He pointed toward the white sheet on the desk.
"Look. Even this paper is their creation, yet you did not even realize it."
"That is the terrifying influence of the Kingdom of Cinders. Unbeknownst to us, they have silently invaded our lives and reshaped everything in Anzeta."
Grand Duke Leo's expression grew grimmer. Stroking his thick white beard, he fell into deep thought.
Trischka produced another dossier and spread it open.
"In April, we seized 1,245 smuggled items originating from the Kingdom of Cinders. The smugglers tore off or concealed the kingdom's crest and replaced it with the crest of House Bosque, claiming they were local products with a 'century-old heritage.' They priced them dirt cheap, sparking a buying frenzy among the nobility."
Grand Duke Leo frowned. "Then how did you uncover them?"
Trischka sighed wryly and replied with utter helplessness, "Because the quality of the goods was far too high. Our realm has no workshops capable of producing goods of that caliber at such scale. We caught them on sight, almost every time."
"And practices like this run rampant across the market. We can no longer keep up with them."
"Damn it all..."
Grand Duke Leo gritted his teeth, his weathered face shadowed with gloom.
Not since the Lionheart Alliance over thirty years ago had the Grand Duke felt such a dire sense of crisis. But the rise of Cassius had overturned everything. He had never faced an enemy like this.
To make matters worse, there hadn't even been an open war or skirmish yet. A simple matter of trade was already proving impossible to withstand, pushing his realm to the brink of ruin.
The red dragon's shadow loomed over all of Anzeta, and the tentacles of the Kingdom of Cinders had reached into every corner of the Northlands. He could hardly fathom just how terrifying it would be once this monstrous machine truly swung into motion and threw its full might into war.
Chapter 280