I'm in Terra

Wine and Meat: 161 The Royal Family's Self-Rescue

Nikalov openly denied the parliament's ruling, seized military power, and refused to plead guilty. Logically, the sword should be summoned and the traitor executed.

But Nikalov's identity was more than just a traitor. A general of the Imperial Army and a representative of the Eastern Nobility, he was a truly powerful general. Even before his conviction, Nikalov remained one of the most powerful figures in the Ursus Empire.

If a sharp blade was sent to assassinate Nekalov, the meaning of the matter would be completely different.

The Diet was the Emperor's mouthpiece, and the Blade was the Emperor's last and sharpest weapon. If the Diet deemed a general or politician guilty, the Emperor could dispatch the Blade to kill them. Then Ursus would no longer be a military empire, but an empire of terrorism.

The emperor might have done so in private, but now that the verdict of Nekalov's guilt had been announced, this "criminal" must die openly on the execution ground and must personally confess his crimes, only then would the verdict be meaningful.

But now, everything is impossible.

What they wanted was to maintain the stability of the imperial order, but sending sharp blades to assassinate their own generals represented the collapse of order.

Fyodor, with bloodshot eyes, swayed in the chair and closed his eyes tiredly.

"Forget it. Let the parliamentarians inform those who have benefited and let them find a way to persuade Nikalov to surrender. The royal family and parliament will not make any further statements on this matter."

Witt was startled, his eyes flashing with unconcealable worry: "But if this happens, the authority of the empire will..."

Fyodor suddenly opened his eyes, his red eyes fixed on the Speaker before him. "What will happen? Will it decline? Will it collapse? Do they still care about me, the Emperor? Now that the First Army has been disintegrated, does anyone still care about the orders of an Emperor like me?"

But wasn't the First Army destroyed under your orders?

Witte swallowed his saliva, swallowing the words back rationally. Now was no longer the time to distinguish right from wrong. They had to find a way to stabilize the order that was about to get out of control. At the very least, the emperor's authority had to be demonstrated.

"Activate the blade."

Responding to Fyodor's gaze, Witt spoke out his suggestion with difficulty: "Now that the First Army is gone, the other legions are vying for power. We must seize this opportunity to regain some initiative. The only card we have left is the Blade. Besides the Blade, we must also find a way to win over the other legions. We must ensure that at least one legion supports the imperial family."

Sharp blade...

Fyodor slumped in his chair, his voice lifeless. "Who are you going to kill? Nikalov? Who are you trying to win over? Are those hyenas not greedy losers?"

"No, we are not going to kill Nekalov. On the contrary, we are going to kill those who are causing chaos."

Witte's eyes burned, a preliminary plan already forming in his mind: "After Congress delegates power, some will inevitably become impatient and take the initiative. While this is understandable from a moral perspective, the decentralization regulations do not actually include the right to dispatch troops without authorization. In other words, if anyone takes action, it means they have fundamentally disregarded the laws of the Empire."

"Disobeying the imperial decree means that Sharp Blade has legitimate reason to act, and this wave of chaos can be contained to a certain extent. Great, great idea!" Fyodor's eyes lit up, and then he realized something: "This matter must not be spread outside. At least the deployment of Sharp Blade must be kept secret. They can speculate and infer, but we must never acknowledge the fact that Sharp Blade took action."

Speaker Witte nodded, instinctively lowering his voice. "That's right. Also, I've already identified generals I can trust and win over."

Fyodor perked up: "Who?"

"The young man who just took over, Victory Kalashnikov."

Witte adjusted his glasses. "Although the Sixth Army is a long way from Fort Saint-Germain, and Luxembourg itself has experienced a civil war and a foreign counterattack, Victor is indeed a very capable general. Young people often have a stronger passion for serving their country than veterans with many battles. As long as Your Majesty is willing to extend an olive branch to him, I believe he will not miss this opportunity."

"Victor?" Fyodor rubbed his forehead, recalling the casual chat and morning tea with the handsome young man that day. If it were him, maybe he could really save the empire from disaster...

"That's fine with me. Just go for it. I'll support you whenever necessary."

Witt bowed slightly: "Thank you for your trust, and may the Empire be great again."

"hope so."

Far away in Luxembourg, Victory had no idea that even as he stirred up the turmoil in Ursus, the two men in Saint-Jeune Castle had already considered him their savior. If he had known, he might have raised his glass and drunk a few glasses, laughing and crying.

As for now?

Our dear lord was enjoying the dual services of Kashena and Tallulah while browsing the recent development report of Luxembourg.

Agriculture in Luxembourg has now stabilized, with a large number of infected people clearing land and sowing seeds in response to the call to cultivate wasteland. The full benefits of this policy will only be known after autumn. Regardless, Luxembourg will certainly not be short of soldiers or food this year.

As for industry and mining, while the attacks from the East Country halted many mines, this minor loss did not affect Luxembourg's pace of industrialization. Factories remained intact, and the newly constructed heavy industry research and development zone had begun dismantling the spoils of war.

Although the special off-road armored vehicles and small fast land craft cannot increase the destructive power of Victoria's troops, they can provide extremely significant support for battlefield transfer and support.

Take Leithania, for example. Previously, if Victoria had sent troops to Visheim for training, the journey alone would have taken about a week. But using these lightweight landships could save at least two to three days. Armored vehicles also revolutionized traditional assault trooper combat methods. Their thick armor and specialized rams gave them greater resilience against larger vehicles and even simple defensive lines.

At least until the war wizards graduate, these new equipment will become the main force of Victoria's war.

But speaking of it......

"When are you going to return to Saint Jun Castle to inherit the position and power that belongs to you?"

Victoria asked curiously, holding Tallulah's horns.

"...Do you really have to discuss business while you're doing this? Gulp—I get it. I can come back anytime you want."

Debauchery: 162 million marks

In a shabby tavern in the countryside of Ursus.

Many men hid here, enjoying their leisure time after the busy farming season. Even just a glass of wine or a cigarette could fully relax their tired nerves.

It should be like this...

"Don't eat the sour radish!"

A weathered, burly man pushed open the wooden door of the tavern, muttering awkward slang, and sat down at the bar with an angry look on his face: "Give me a glass of wine and two pieces of black bread."

The tavern owner coughed awkwardly. Normally, he would have prepared the man's order without hesitation, but today, he was afraid that wouldn't be possible...

"A glass of wine and two loaves of black bread? That's fifteen hundred roubles."

"Sokabulie!!!"

The man who had just sat down practically leaped up, his eyes filled with disbelief. "One thousand five hundred rubles? Your wine is brewed with pure gold?"

The owner sighed and pointed behind the man. The man followed the owner's gaze and saw many familiar faces sitting in the tavern, each with a cup in front of them, and many of them pouring their own drinks. Everything seemed normal, but after a careful look, the man suddenly realized something was amiss.

"They drink...all water?"

The boss nodded, his expression grim as he puffed on a rough cigarette. "Xueshui. Prices at the market have gone up again. If this continues, I won't be able to buy the raw materials for my own brewing, let alone sell you some wine."

The man felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave when he heard the boss's words. He also knew that prices were rising. Before the busy farming season, he was still calculating whether his harvest this year could add two more items after paying taxes.

But now?

Not to mention utensils, if prices continue to rise like this, he will soon not be able to afford even black bread.

The family's food reserves were not enough to last until autumn, so his main purpose in coming to town this time, besides taking a break from his busy schedule to have a drink, was to buy some food for backup.

"Why is this happening? Prices are skyrocketing, and the nobles don't do anything about it?"

After finding out the current market prices, the man collapsed tiredly on the table, took the snow water handed to him by the boss and drank it all.

"Control? Control what?" the boss scoffed. "Ever since the war started, prices at the market have been fluctuating daily. Back then, we thought we'd just hold on and wait for victory, and everything would be fine. But what happened? We lost, and I heard we lost miserably. Those nobles, having suffered losses, are now looking to us for compensation. Don't even mention the high prices; come autumn, the harvest tax will be several percent higher."

Upon hearing this, the tavern suddenly exploded. Everyone present were civilians who worked in the fields, and their channels for obtaining information depended on the tavern owner in front of them.

If the boss says that taxes are going to increase, then the news is most likely true.

"Hurrah, those idiots are not going to let us live anymore?"

"What a joke! When has the noble lord ever cared about our lives? All he cares about is the food and money in our pockets!"

"A piece of black bread costs two or three hundred rubles now. If the price keeps going up, everyone will have to starve."

"I'm fine, I have thick skin and can withstand the cold. But my daughter is only 10 years old this year. If she can't afford to eat, how will she live?"

The man sitting at the bar listened to the howling and cursing in the pub, and suddenly a flash of inspiration emerged from the bottom of his heart.

"If we're going to die anyway, why don't we just rebel???"

As soon as he said this, the entire tavern fell silent. The man turned around and stared at the burly men around him, some familiar and some unfamiliar. He saw on their faces the same weathered and despair as his own.

The same anger.

In mid-July, during the hottest and busiest season, dozens of uprisings, large and small, broke out abnormally.

Some are workers whose workloads are becoming increasingly arduous, some are infected people who can no longer hide, but the majority are penniless farmers and the lower classes.

For a time, rebellions of varying sizes began to emerge in various places, and those nobles who had criticized the Fourth Army or even secretly plotted against it had to suspend their plans and instead deal with the outbreak of public grievances.

"Rebellions are beginning to emerge across the country. Many places have organized uprisings, seeking to challenge the authority of the local military. According to my investigation, only three regions within Ursus have shown no signs of uprising."

Victoria smiled and calmly put down his teacup: "Fort Saint, the Fourth Army's territory and... us."

Dorothy nodded and placed the document in front of Victoria. Whenever the Empire went to war, there would always be some disturbance within the country after the war. After the Battle of Blood Peak, the Empire had similarly experienced dozens, even hundreds, of uprisings, both large and small. However, compared to those events, the current commotion seemed particularly large.

Suddenly, Dorothy realized something and turned to look at Kashena, who was smiling and slacking off. "You did it?"

"Am I really that bad in your heart?" Kashiena smiled and stretched out her right hand, frivolously hooking her middle and ring fingers together. Dorothy shuddered in fear, instinctively covering her skirt.

"These disturbances were all caused by those troublemakers themselves. I just added fuel to the fire."

Seeing Dorothy avoid her gaze, Kashiena playfully fiddled with her perfectly manicured nails. "If you insist on asking why this incident caused such a big commotion, it's probably thanks to those 'distinguished' nobles."

"The Chernobog incident has only added fuel to the fire." Victor opened his arms and gently embraced Dorothy. "When people realize that those armies are not invincible with a little ingenuity, the order constructed by force will completely collapse. Kashena, the existence of an uprising can greatly weaken the reputation of the local nobles and even affect the common people's impression of the emperor. If possible, try to maintain the scale of the uprising, or at least prevent them from being easily slaughtered by the nobles."

"I understand." Kashiena nodded, her eyes enchanting and dangerous. "When do we start? When will Kosice return to his territory?"

"No hurry, muddy the water first."

Victoria tightened his embrace, and Dorothy, knowingly, squeezed his shoulders. "If we want to build a new, powerful nation, we must completely destroy the old, decaying order. It won't be very effective if we personally push this matter forward. It's better to let the common people do it themselves."

Wine Pond and Meat Forest: 163 Speech and Resistance

Kanal

The mobile city in the southern center of Ursus, although it is not well-known, is indeed a relatively peaceful, harmonious and prosperous city in Ursus.

But today, this tranquility is destined to be broken, and the source of everything points to the huge crowd in the square.

The elderly, the young, the children. Besides the workers engaged in heavy labor, the vast square was already packed with a dense crowd. They came here today for only one purpose: to witness the awakening of the people.

On the high podium, a young man was cheering hysterically. He didn't look strong, but rather thin, but his will never admitted to being weak, and his voice was echoing in the air.

"Yesterday, the tavern owner told me that the price of a glass of low-quality beer has been driven up to a thousand rubles. This isn't because the owner is blinded by lard, but because the price of rye, the raw material, has increased tenfold. Ten times! In the past ten years in Ursus, the price of rye hasn't increased by more than 30%, but in just two months, it has increased tenfold.

It's not just rye; the prices of food, utensils, clothing—everything you can see and use—are skyrocketing. Today it's beer, tomorrow it's winter clothes, and the day after tomorrow it's black bread. What are those merchants doing? They're committing a crime! They're trying to deprive us of every penny and every grain of food!!!

And what about the nobles? What are they doing? They're enjoying the tributes from the merchants, turning a blind eye to the absurdities unfolding within their territories! No, it's more accurate to say they're the culprits behind all this!!! From the moment the war began, the exploitation of the common people began. Regardless of victory or defeat, they're always trying to get another piece of our flesh.

How long has it been since you last ate meat? Can you still survive like this? If things continue this way, I bet more than half the people won't even see the harvest before winter arrives. Can you afford a slice of bread for 200 rubles? How about 1,000 rubles? Now that things have come to this, there's only one way out. Revolt! Just like those infected in Chernobyl, revolt against the nobility, against the army!!!

Only in this way can we survive! Only in this way can our descendants continue to survive!"

The man yelled at the top of his lungs on the stage, and the audience clenched their fists. Nothing he said was false; they all knew what the outcome would be if he continued like this.

Either hide at home and wait for the army to come, or...

"What are you all doing here? Disperse, disperse! If you don't leave, I'll shoot you!"

As the unrest in the square intensified, the soldiers stationed on the city walls finally noticed something was amiss. Today was the day Count Canal was away "persuading the surrender," so the city's garrison was relatively small. Furthermore, incidents in the square were supposed to be handled by the police or patrols, but they noticed that many officers were standing openly beside the men, making no effort to stop the rioting.

Suppressing the uneasiness rising in his heart, the city defense officer led a small team to the edge of the square, ready to drive away these idle civilians. Under the force of force, the crowd was forced to make way for the soldiers to reach the center of the square.

Gazing at the troops advancing towards him, sabers in hand, the man on the podium showed no fear at all. Instead, he smiled with delight: "Everyone, look at me, then look at them!!! Their faces are dripping with oil, and they look so wealthy! How much blood and sweat did they squeeze out of us to eat like this?"

Although this statement sounded somewhat far-fetched, the people in the square, already enraged, could not discern much. They only saw the man's frailty and helplessness, and the officer's tall and strong figure.

"What nonsense are you talking about? You're the organizer, right? According to Imperial law, you who wantonly incite civilians shall be executed!"

The captain of the city defense snorted coldly and drew the long sword from his waist. If the Earl knew about the mess that had happened during his defense of the city, he would probably be punished. Compared to his future and salary, this thin man was not worth mentioning at all...

brush----

The captain swung his saber fiercely at the man, but the result was unsuccessful. Simultaneously with the sound of his saber swing was a barely perceptible blast from a gun. A tiny, etched bullet pierced the man's head, piercing the crowd with pinpoint accuracy.

The knife fell to the ground, and along with it fell the arrogant officer.

The thin man ignored the blood on the ground, bent down to pick up the snow-white saber, and then raised it high: "Resist! Fight!!! We will never surrender!!!"

The path the soldiers had come from was blocked again at some point. The people stared at the soldier in the center of the crowd with wide eyes, until...

Pfft————

A policeman took out a dagger and stabbed it into the soldiers on the periphery. His action was like a switch, stirring the emotions of everyone around him.

Wooden sticks, benches, vegetable baskets, stones, batons—anything that could be called a weapon—were thrown out without hesitation by the crowd. This city defense team was easily submerged in the crowd.

The next day, Canal unilaterally abolished his earldom and refused to accept the transfer order from the Ursus Empire. The first city to declare independence.

Three days later, upon learning the news, Count Canal returned to his territory in a rage, only to be rejected and attacked by the locals. Furious, the Count aimed his army's cannons at his own city gates. Thus began an unprecedentedly brutal battle, erupting from within the very heart of Ursus.

A full week later, Count Canal had annihilated the vast majority of the remaining rebels, but the entire city was thrown into chaos. Industry, agriculture, livelihoods, and construction—everything was reduced to the level of more than a decade ago. Count Canal himself had also died inexplicably after annihilating the rebels.

At this point, everyone knew that a storm that would sweep across the entire empire was about to come.