Chapter 25: Revolution Era - Can You Hear Our Voices?
In the southeastern region of Lumière, on the plains of Nemours.
King Louis and his barely gathered remnants of troops were returning to Lumière when they encountered the Eastern Army led by the Duke of Orléans.
"Thank God! It's a relief to see you safe, Your Majesty."
The Duke of Orléans hurried to meet them, but King Louis was unmistakably displeased.
"Why are you here, Duke Orléans?"
"I heard of the defeat of the southern and central armies and hastily retreated, moving here.
Your Majesty."
"What about the east?"
"...I apologize, Your Majesty. But I couldn't risk putting the central heartlands and the capital, Lumière, in danger..."
"You're trying to protect your own lands."
Challenged by the king's sharp words, the Duke of Orléans fell silent.
The Duke's lands were located southwest of the capital.
With the royal army's crushing defeat, if the enemy advances north, his own lands would be in peril before the capital.
Pretending loyalty, he had abandoned his duty in the east and rushed back.
However, overwhelmed by an unimaginable defeat and physically exhausted, the king no longer had the strength to interrogate the duke further.
"Provide me a place to rest."
"...As you command, Your Majesty."
King Louis was quickly led to a tent by the duke's servants. As soon as he entered, he dismissed everyone, collapsed onto the bed, and muttered in despair.
"Have I, lost?"
Instead of his older brother, who enjoyed aristocratic luxury and sumptuous banquets, he remembered the late king who had favored him.
The great former king, known as the Knight King. But he, his son, had never dared to confront the Blue Knight with such might.
Once, he too admired the former king, charging into battle with bravery, but when had it all come to this?
Was it when his revered father died without naming him the crown prince?
Or after his own ascension to the throne, becoming arrogant?
No, that's not it.
It started from the moment the former king passed away, and the knights rushed to pledge their loyalty, supporting him.
He believed himself the rightful heir to the throne, focusing only on defeating his brother. From the moment he took for granted the loyalty of the knights, using them as he saw fit, he became despicable.
They pledged loyalty not to him, but because they despised his brother, who favored sycophantic nobles over brave knights, and because they had been loyal to the great Knight King.
At the king's bedside, consumed with self-loathing, a strange voice spoke.
"What a pity, Your Majesty."
King Louis, startled, sat up and saw a pitch-black pigeon that had entered unnoticed.
"You, why are you here..."
"Why would it surprise you, Your Majesty, that a businessman contacts his client?"
King Louis fell silent, watching the expressionless creature, which seemed to mock him with its red glowing eyes.
"As you know, our company generously loaned the funds you required. Of course, you provided a 'fair price' in return, but you understand it's not enough."
"I know that! But wait. I'll subdue the Duke of Lafayette as you desire...!"
"Forgive my boldness, Your Majesty, but we do not believe you are capable of that at this moment."
King Louis gritted his teeth at the pigeon, Harphas' blunt assertion.
"It seems we overestimated your creditworthiness. Unfortunately, you'll no longer be eligible for our special benefits."
King Louis had accepted Abyss Corporation's offer, believing it was certain he could subdue the Duke of Lafayette, especially the younger one, and a significant part of the loan would be forgiven.
"Even so, Your Majesty's ability to pay remains. Therefore, Abyss Corporation must now demand repayment of the loan."
"What? The civil war is ongoing, and I've just suffered a defeat. I'm in no position to pay you now-"
"Your Majesty, why should our company consider your circumstances?"
As King Louis glared, the pigeon, with an indiscernible cooing or mocking sound of 'coo-coo-coo,' spoke again in its eerie voice.
"Your Majesty, you have taken a loan from us, and due to the outcome of the recent battle, we have no choice but to downgrade your credit rating. Therefore, it is only logical and reasonable for us to demand repayment of the loan balance before any principal loss occurs."
"I told you I have no money to pay!"
"That is for Your Majesty to figure out. You may impose heavier war taxes, or even pay us with more of your subjects as 'compensation.' The important thing is, if you do not comply, we will inevitably have to initiate enforcement procedures."
“How dare the demons threaten me now?”
"Oh, Your Majesty. Threaten? We are essentially a corporation, a group with interests. What's wrong with exerting influence for profit realization?
Of course, we remain fundamentally rational and seek coexistence with humans. Plans like using force to recover loans, although somewhat barbaric, are still secondary options. This remains true even though the kingdom's proud knights have almost all perished, and the country's power is significantly inferior, in our assessment."
Intimidated by the blunt threat, King Louis closed his mouth, his face turning pale.
"Instead, we prefer a more gentlemanly approach. Seizing the Francia royal family's overseas assets, and, for a price, we're willing to hire forces to recover the loan balance on our behalf. Perhaps those who have risen against Your Majesty."
"Ah, alright! I will pay! Isn't that enough?"
The pigeon, Harphas, cooed once more.
"A wise decision, Your Majesty. Let's set the deadline to three months."
"Three, three months? How am I supposed to gather such a large sum in just three months!"
"Then, we hope you continue to enjoy the advanced technology and innovative services of Abyss Corporation."
Having said its piece, the pigeon vanished right before the king's eyes.
King Louis, unable to utter a word, raised his hands and rubbed his face.
"Father, what foolishness have I done..."
***
In the capital of the Kingdom of Francia, Lumière.
The city plunged into chaos when tax collectors, under the king's orders, announced the collection of a special war tax, warning that those unable to pay would inevitably face punishment.
It was a well-known secret that those unable to pay the taxes on time were being 'sold' to Abyss Corporation as a form of punishment.
"We can't take this anymore! Where do they expect us to find the money for such outrageous taxes? This is nothing but a declaration of selling us all to those demons!
We can no longer stand by and watch the king ignore the law and impose his tyranny!"
"The king is coming to Lumière with his defeated army. If we can't arm the citizens before they enter the city, a massacre will ensue! We must act before it's too late!"
Amidst the uproar, Bishop Arno Richelieu, who had led them with kindness and prudence, was sweating profusely with a pale face.
He was the man who, with the help of his friend Sieyes, had published 'Doctrine of Estates?'.
While most clergy were corrupt and self-serving, Richelieu genuinely pitied the people of Francia.
He wished for their awakening. Individually, the commoners might be weak and insignificant, but united in consciousness, he believed they could transform this miserable kingdom for the better.
Ultimately, what the bishop wanted was for the Third Estate to unite and pressurize the king, to correct his and the kingdom's wrongful path.
However, at some point, they naturally started to harbor thoughts of bloodshed.
"The people of Francia must now arm themselves to protect our lives.
From the oppressors themselves!"
"The king must die! No, all those who exploited the Third Estate must be eradicated!"
Even Bishop Richelieu, upon hearing the king's orders, doubted if this man was indeed the same prince from before. Yet, he never imagined that the seeds he had sown would lead to such consequences.
To Richelieu, those who had finally found the will to act appeared nothing but terrifying.
The anger and hatred filling the room seemed to prick the old bishop's skin.
Where was his friend Sieyes, who had always warmly advised and encouraged Richelieu, proclaiming him the true servant of God and friend of the people?
The eyes that once looked up to the compassionate bishop were now bloodshot, their throats uttering only sounds filled with murderous intent and rage.
"Make a decision, Bishop," whispered Maximilian Le Zidor softly.
To Richelieu, something cold swirling in Zidor's eyes seemed more dangerous than the hottest flame.
Yet, everyone gathered here was beyond his control.
If he dared to declare their actions wrong and attempted to dissuade them, he too would be seen as one of the countless 'First Estate'.
Richelieu spoke almost in a sigh.
"...May liberty, equality, and philanthropy be with you all."
***
In the darkened night, the sky over the capital Lumière was as bright as day.
"We have been nothing all this time!"
Countless crowds march through the city streets, torches in hand.
"They never saw us as humans!"
The chorus of the crowd shakes the entire city.
"Are they listening to our voices?"
Tax collectors, who used to stride through the streets, intimidating and demanding at every door, have now vanished.
"Are they listening to our angry voices!"
Priests who exploited in the name of God sought refuge in the dark confessional rooms of the churches, searching for divine mercy.
"The voice of the people, refusing to be enslaved again!"
Nobles, whose honor in chivalry had disappeared, thumping their greasy, bloated bellies, dragged their hefty bodies to hide in cellars, trembling in fear.
"It's time they listened!"
The endless procession of the masses arrived in front of the arsenal of Lumière.
"If they won't listen, we will engrave it on their bodies!"
The guards at the arsenal aimed their cannons at the furious crowd.
"People of Francia-"
Despite the considerable distance, the few soldiers aiming the cannons felt an intense heat, as if the city itself was ablaze, and tensed up.
"Come out to the streets and join us!"
Realizing the fervor of the crowd was directed at them, the soldiers could only swallow their dry saliva.
"Let's seize a new life together!"
The pale, terrified soldiers looked up at their commander.
"Those who do not join us, stand with the oppressors!"
Overwhelmed by the unarmed crowd's cries, the commander realized his hand clutching the sheath was trembling.
"Join our cause or fall with them!"
As the chorus of the crowd ceased, their menacing gaze turned towards the commander and his soldiers.
The commander pondered deeply.
Loyalty to the kingdom alone couldn't sustain this defense with insufficient manpower, supplies, and ammunition.
More importantly, the families of the soldiers guarding this place might be among the crowd.
"I, I will open the arsenal if you guarantee the lives of me and my men."
"Ah, a wise choice. We accept."
Relieved yet guilty, the commander ordered his men to lay down their arms.
But, in a moment of betrayal, as the commander and his men tried to leave, someone from the crowd rushed forward and struck a soldier's head with a club.
"What are you doing! The promise-"
"Tax collector."
As the crowd's gaze converged and silence fell, the man with the club was in tears.
"Last month, they said there would be no more additional taxes this season. So, I, I sold Lucy, that little girl, to keep my family alive."
Tears streaming, the man's eyes now blazed with rage.
"And what did the king say today? You break promises like they're nothing, so why should we keep ours?"
The citizens of Lumière looted the capital's arsenal, arming themselves, and then began attacking the noble estates and churches.
Countless priests and nobles died, and among the dead were many who were neither but suffered simply for being in those residences.
Finally reaching the central street, the crowd marched, displaying the severed heads of the commander, soldiers, and nobles on poles.
Witnessing this from his window, Bishop Richelieu collapsed to the floor.
"What have we done..."
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