Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 480 Blazing Flames (Part 5)

[empire]
[Palace of No Worries]
People say that the corridor leading to the emperor's private office is the most "difficult" road in the empire.

Only those who have truly walked this path know that "difficult" is not only a metaphor, but also the most objective and accurate description.

To highlight the emperor's authority and power, the architects of the Mad Emperor Richard specially designed a magnificent corridor in the office area of ​​the Palace of No Fear.

Those who come to pay homage must walk with trepidation on the mirror-smooth marble floor tiles. Looking up, one sees a towering dome like that of a temple; looking ahead, one sees a solemn, deserted passageway.

The huge glass windows, despite their excellent lighting, only accentuate the deep and quiet atmosphere of the corridor; the stone walls, which should be airtight, involuntarily send chills down one's spine.

Rather than saying that the end of this long corridor, known as the "Glacier," was the emperor's private office, it was more like a road leading to a dragon's lair.

Considering that the imperial nobles, regardless of their status, preferred to use a mythical creature that could breathe fire, had scales, sharp teeth and claws, was extremely dangerous yet possessed immense wealth to refer to [Henry III], the saying "the end of the glacier is the dragon's lair" was not entirely unfounded, and it always elicited a knowing smile from the audience at parties.

However, even on glaciers that are "difficult to traverse," some people can still make some unusual noises.

Inside the emperor's private office, Count Narcia, who was helping the emperor open a letter, couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth when he heard a muffled "thump" coming from the direction of the corridor.

“Your Majesty,” Count Narzia put down his letter-cutting knife and said with a smile, “General Arakcheev has arrived.”

The emperor, sitting in the only chair in the room, nodded and gently placed the quill back into the ink bottle.

Count Narzia understood and deftly helped the emperor tidy up the table, then consciously stepped aside to await the arrival of the most influential figure in the imperial political arena—Minister of War Alexei Alakcheyev.

……

In every sense, Alexei Arakcheyev was a figure who should not have been found at the top of the imperial political edifice.

He was merely the son of a poor provincial nobleman in the Far East. The wealth bestowed upon him by his ancestors had long been squandered over the generations, leaving him only with a noble status that was the subject of ridicule.

However, it was precisely because of his "noble" status that Arakcheev entered the Royal Junior Military Academy, and then, through his abilities, he was admitted to the highest military academy of the empire located in the Eternal City.

Logically, the best outcome for such a rootless provincial aristocratic officer would be to be assigned to the Northern Army or the Eastern Army, starting as a junior officer, accumulating merits little by little amidst snow and sand, and striving to be transferred back to an inland province before the age of forty, where he could enjoy the rest of his life in a relatively lucrative provincial post—or be put in a coffin and sent back to his hometown before that.

However, the emperor extricated Alexei Alakcheyev from this fate by appointing him as his personal military officer and, at an opportune moment, sending him to a remote post. After Alakcheyev had accumulated sufficient military merit, the emperor immediately recalled him to the center of power.

In the Eternal City, anyone who receives such divine favor would attract countless criticisms and envy. Not to mention Arakcheyev, a provincial nobleman with no connections and no popularity.

His image is strange and out of place amidst the extravagant and pleasure-loving Eternal City and the magnificent celebrations of the Imperial Court.

Everyone knows that Alexei Arakcheyev gets up at four o'clock every day without fail and arrives at work at six o'clock, requiring all his subordinates to arrive before him. Those who violate this rule face a warning, a fine, or dismissal—even princes are not exempt.

In his personal life, Alexei Arakcheyev was renowned throughout the Eternal City for his frugality.

He never went to the theater or attended dances. He was very cautious and stingy when it came to food and drink. He would only occasionally play low-stakes cards at home with his few friends and comrades-in-arms. If he won, he would bring out wine to treat the others. If he lost, he would send the guests away with a grim face.

When most people meet him, they are always met with a cold, gloomy, and sharp demeanor. If he were to smile or joke more, the situation might improve, but he rarely does so.

Many nobles of the Eternal City viewed him as an enemy, and when the Emperor appointed him as the new Minister of War, those who opposed the appointment included, but were not limited to, Duke Lothair, Earl Finley, all of the Emperor's lieutenants, and the Queen—that is, every influential figure in the court.

However, Alexei Alakcheyev took office and launched a large-scale, bloody purge of the Southern Army.

Count Narzia stood with his hands at his sides, listening intently to the approaching muffled thuds.

On the glacial corridor where everyone else struggles to avoid falling, Alexei Alakcheyev is the only one whose every heel lands with a resounding thud.

While other court nobles were trying to exert influence and do their utmost to prevent Alexei Alakcheyev's new appointment, Count Narzia also publicly expressed his unease about the appointment.

But that was only to avoid being ostracized by others. Count Narzia knew from the beginning that Alexei Arakcheev's appointment could not be overturned.

The emperor wanted someone like Alexei Arakcheyev, who was decisive, impartial, and unconditionally obedient.

In other words, Arakcheyev was both a henchman sent by the emperor to solve problems and a skilled problem solver himself.

For an emperor who rules an empire of complex interests, infighting, and vast territory through an extremely large, inefficient, and overburdened bureaucracy, a figure like Alexei Arakcheev could be considered his most valuable asset.

For the network of patrons—the invisible protectors—who were spread throughout the imperial government and army, Alexei Alakcheyev, who did not belong to any political faction and rose through the ranks solely on the monarch's appreciation and support, was undoubtedly a bloody blade.

“Alexei, who rose to prominence because he had no faction,” Count Narzia thought to himself without revealing his true feelings. “When will he become Alexei, who fell into the abyss because he had no faction?”

Although he had no intention of questioning His Majesty's trust and sincerity toward Alexei Alakcheyev, Count Narzia did not believe that the Emperor was unaware of this—a "henchman" with no roots or connections among the upper nobility could be thrown to the wolves without any burden if necessary.

As the heavy footsteps faded away, the office door opened a hand's width, and an attendant outside announced, "Your Majesty, General Arakcheyev has arrived."

Count Narzia made a small gesture.

The door closed silently, and after a moment of silence, it opened completely.

Tall, with rounded shoulders and a long neck, Alexei Arakcheev walked into the office carrying his cap, his short walk still causing the floor to tremble.

Arakcheyev stopped in front of the desk, put his boots together, and bowed deeply.

Looking with pity at the Minister of War's sunken cheeks and thinning hair, Count Narzia couldn't help but wonder: "Does this sword of loyalty, who serves the emperor with unwavering devotion, also know that one day he might be carelessly thrown to the wolves?"

……

The distribution of power is like sitting around a fire; position matters. The closer you are to the flames, the warmer you will be.

Therefore, being able to enter and leave the emperor's private office was not only an honor, but also a great power—Alexei Arakcheyev was well aware of this.

Even so, Arakcheyev did not abuse this privilege.

Unlike Count Narzia, who "wished he could be by the emperor's side 24/7," Arakcheev only had an audience with the emperor once a week at a fixed time.

Today's audience was not on his schedule.

After the routine work report, Arakcheyev learned the reason why the Emperor had summoned him alone:
An unprecedented new institution will emerge at the heart of the empire's political landscape; it is called the [State Council]. The Emperor has given his sword a choice: either remain as Minister of War or assume the chairmanship of the newly formed Military Affairs Committee under the State Council.

According to Count Narzia, the function of the Council of State would be to debate all legislative and budgetary matters, advise the Emperor, and also assume a certain supervisory role.

Arakcheyev was no stranger to all sorts of "committees." In fact, the core of the imperial governance system was built on a series of staff groups, councils, and committees of all sizes.

The emperor established multiple councils for different areas of responsibility and jurisdiction.

The members of the council reviewed and discussed all letters, reports and memoranda within their respective responsibilities, annotated them and submitted them to the emperor, providing advice on the actions the emperor should take.

This system was established by the current emperor's grandfather, when the emperor's power was vastly different from what it is today. Imperial power existed in the cracks between the nobility, and the area truly ruled by the emperor was like an isolated island within a duchy.

The council system significantly improved the efficiency of the imperial bureaucracy, enabling the emperor to extract more power from a limited territory and continuously win in internal struggles.

However, as imperial power expanded and the imperial government's rule became more refined, the council was no longer sufficient to handle the massive amount of reports coming from both within and outside the empire.

Thus, the Mad Emperor Richard IV established a series of permanent bodies on the basis of the council system to handle matters within a specific area of ​​responsibility—the concept of "government departments" thus entered imperial politics.

However, the redistribution of power inevitably triggered a backlash from those who had already benefited from the system. Richard IV's reforms, which established "permanent departments," naturally provoked strong dissatisfaction among the "robed nobles."

In order to gain enough support to implement reforms, Richard IV compromised by placing the permanent departments under the council.

From then on, letters, reports, and memorandums from all corners of the empire were first processed by the respective government departments. The departments would then submit the matters requiring decisions to the relevant councils, which would then discuss them and provide recommendations before submitting them to the emperor for a final decision.

Although this design has caused a series of problems such as overlapping powers, unclear responsibilities, and inefficient communication, the administrative system is currently functioning quite well.

The series of brilliant victories in the empire's foreign wars over the past thirty years are proof of this.

So what exactly is this "State Council," whose name sounds very much like that of a Southern rebel?

Since the current emperor ascended the throne, although the sweeping reforms implemented by his grandfather and father have never occurred, small-scale, flexible reforms have never ceased.

The structure and responsibilities of various councils, committees, and government departments are constantly changing, so Alexei Arakcheev is not sure which institution will ultimately hold real power in the future.
But unlike those court jesters who racked their brains to guess the emperor's intentions, Alexei Arakcheev had a very simple way of getting the answer.

“Your Majesty, please forgive my ignorance.” Arakcheyev frowned and asked the emperor bluntly, “Doesn’t this so-called ‘State Council’ overlap with the powers of most existing councils? Are you trying to establish a committee of all councils?”

Count Narzia stood lifelessly in the corner, eyes downcast, mouth down, and mind down, but his ears were perked up.

"As expected of you." Count Narzia's heart pounded, and he couldn't help but think, "As expected of you."

The questions that Arakcheyev could easily ask, Count Narzia could never ask.

The Emperor calmly gazed at Arakcheyev, while behind him, the Mad Emperor Richard was also gazing at Arakcheyev.

“It is a committee that will replace all councils,” the emperor said.

A committee to replace all parliamentary councils?
A committee to replace all councils!

A word as light as a feather, when heard correctly, can carry immense weight.

The office was deathly silent. Count Narzia swallowed hard. He felt a deep sense of regret; he regretted staying there and eavesdropping on the Emperor's conversation with Alexei Arakcheev.

From this moment on, he had to pray that Arakcheyev would keep his mouth shut until the emperor announced his intentions to the imperial subjects.

Before this, Count Narcia had already dreaded what would happen if a fourth person uttered the phrase "a committee that replaces all councils."

On the other side, Arakcheyev's boot heel slammed against the ground.

He answered directly: "I understand. Then I'll go to the State Council meeting. Rather than be supervised by others, I'd rather supervise others."

The emperor nodded slightly.

Arakcheyev then asked, "Your Majesty, who will succeed me in my position?"

"Barclay de Tolly".

Arakcheyev frowned. This was a Castilian man with even less seniority than he had when he was appointed Minister of War.

"The case of the Southern Army General Staff," Arakcheyev continued, "Should I bring it to the State Council?"

"No need."

“Barclay.” Arakcheyev spoke of his successor with a hint of disdain: “I doubt he has the guts to investigate further.”

"There's no need to investigate any further." The emperor paused briefly. "The case of the Southern Army Commander ends here."

Count Narzia's heart began to pound again, because the emperor's simple words meant that the Southern Army's corruption scandal, which had terrified everyone, could finally come to an end.

"Minister Arakcheyev," the emperor rarely called out a minister's name.

"Your Majesty." Arakcheyev slammed his boot heel down again.

"In your capacity as Chairman of the Military Affairs Committee," the Emperor patiently explained, "your primary task is to end the chaos exposed in the Southern Border's supply and provisions departments and restore order to the military administration system. Recruit sufficient new soldiers and horses to replenish the losses suffered by the Northern Army in the war and prepare for potential losses in future wars."

Arakcheyev listened to every word, pondered for a moment, and shook his head: "It was too rushed. If we could properly clean up the Southern Army before rebuilding it, it would be much easier to do anything we wanted."

Count Narzia's heart tightened. So many heads had been chopped off, so many people dismissed from their posts—wasn't that bastard Arakcheev enough? He had finally witnessed the brutal purge of the heads, was it going to continue?
The emperor did not respond to Arakcheev's complaints.

He looked out the window and gently tapped the handrail.

Once, twice, three times...

"Time waits for no one," the emperor said.

Happy New Year!
Wishing everyone a safe and healthy new year!
[The section on imperial political systems in this chapter references the content of "The Decisive Battle Between Russia and Napoleon" and "Emperor: Charles V." Given the availability of historical records of empires, the author believes it's best to avoid fabricating stories.]
[Additional Note: Regarding Winters' nickname]
[Winters' nicknames vary among different groups of people.]
[Within the Venetta Army, the earliest nickname circulating was "Bloody Montagne" or "Blood Man Montagne"]
The nickname "Blood Wolf" or "Blood Wolf" comes from Lieutenant Colonel John Jessica. In a sense, Winters wasn't considered one of their own at that time; otherwise, Lieutenant Colonel Jessica would have given him a much better nickname.
Therefore, within the Iron Peak Army, Winters is generally referred to as the "Protector of the People," and only in special circumstances, to emphasize his position, is he called the "Blood Wolf."
[Friendly troops and civilians don't shy away from the term and usually call him "Blood Wolf" directly.]
[On the contrary, the Hed people actually used the most respectful title for Winters, calling him "Warrior"/"Champion"/"Batu"]
[Mr. Leo's claim that "Blood Wolf is an honorific title given to Winters by the Heds" is utter nonsense.]
The Hed people rarely call wolves "wolves" directly; instead, they use terms like "grey-headed," "long-toothed," or "mountain king" to refer to them.
[Just like in some places, tigers aren't called by their direct name, but rather "mountain lords"]
Regardless of region, people generally believe that calling out the names of bad things will attract bad things.
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(End of this chapter)