Fangzhou Xier, starting with failing the art exam

"They thought that burning down a warehouse would frighten us and make us back down!"

He paused for a moment, then raised his fist.

"But I want to tell them! They are wrong! The people of Viseheim cannot be burned down!!"

"They burn down one warehouse, we'll build two tomorrow! They destroy our food, we'll tighten our belts and rebuild our homes!"

"That coward who set the fire, we will drag him out and make him pay! But now, I need your strength!"

"Men, come with me to put out the fire! Women and children, go home, lock the doors and windows, and don't give the enemy a chance to create chaos!"

Public sentiment was stirred up.

After the initial panic subsided, a sense of shared hatred and indignation began to spread.

Many young and middle-aged men spontaneously followed the Workers' Party's ranks, carrying buckets of water, and rushed towards the fire.

The fire was eventually extinguished, but more than 70% of the supplies in the warehouse were destroyed.

The results of the on-site investigation came out quickly: it was arson, and there was more than one ignition point.

News also came from Serafina's side.

At the East Gate, a group of guards stopped a carriage that was trying to break through the gate.

The coachman committed suicide by poisoning himself before being arrested. Inside the carriage were two men with burn scars and carrying the coat of arms of Viscount Stalenf.

The perpetrator was caught red-handed.

The next morning, two gallows were erected in the town square of Viseheim.

The two arsonists who were arrested were publicly executed in front of thousands of angry onlookers.

Lacey personally read out their crimes and the mastermind behind them—Lord of Finkshire, Viscount Starenf.

The sentiment is indignant.

"Revenge! Revenge!"

"Attack Finkshire! Hang that fat viscount!"

The public's anger was completely ignited, and even Gertrude's guards showed signs of eagerness to fight.

However, at this moment, Lacey made a decision that surprised everyone, including Gertrude.

He announced that the Workers' Party would send representatives to Finkshire to "peace talks" with Viscount Stallonef.

"Negotiations?" Gertrude could hardly believe her ears in the Earl's study.

"Lassie, are you crazy? The people's hearts are with us now, morale is high, this is the best time for us to send troops! You actually want to negotiate with that fat pig?"

"Send troops?" Lacey countered. "Under what pretext?"

“A private feud between counts? Gertrude, you must understand that we represent more than just ourselves now.”

“If we start a war, we will give other nobles an excuse to interfere. At that time, we may be facing more than just Stalenf.”

"We can't just let it go like this!" Gertrude exclaimed, unable to accept it. "That would make us look weak and vulnerable!"

“Who said we should just forget about it?” Lacey smiled.

"In the art of war, winning hearts and minds is the best strategy, while attacking cities is the worst; psychological warfare is superior to physical warfare."

He laid out his entire plan.

After hearing this, Gertrude's anger gradually dissipated, replaced by a complex expression of shock and admiration.

She discovered that her ally's way of thinking always easily broke free from the rigid, black-and-white logic of the nobility.

……

……

Holy Lytanian Empire: Chapter Twenty-Nine: Paying to Avoid Disaster

Three days later, Finkshire.

Viscount Stalenf, obese as a mountain of flesh, sat smugly in his large chair covered with snow-white animal hide, toying with a gold coin in his hand as he listened to his subordinates' report.

"...The envoys from Viseheim were very humble. They claimed that the burning of the warehouse was purely accidental, and they were willing to pay a large sum of compensation to the families of the two warriors who died in the line of duty. They also hoped to sign an agreement with you, Your Excellency Viscount."

"Oh?" Viscount Stalenf's enormous chin twitched, and he let out a smug laugh. "Looks like that little girl Gertrude and her dog are terrified of me, hahahahaha!!"

"So what kind of agreement is it?"

"It's a 'labor importation agreement,' which seeks to lease a group of workers from your territory for a period of one year."

“Rented laborers?” Viscount Stalenf narrowed his eyes, which were squeezed into slits by his fat, and asked warily, “What’s the price?”

"This...this..." The subordinate hesitated for a moment before handing over a document.

Viscount Stalenf snatched it away, glanced at it briefly, and then his breathing suddenly quickened, his eyes widening instantly.

The agreement clearly stated in black and white that Viseheim was willing to rent laborers from Finkshire for fifty gold coins per person per year.

Fifty gold coins!

Viscount Stalenf's heart pounded wildly.

You should know that a miner in his territory, after working hard all year, can only bring him a net profit of at most ten gold coins after deducting food, drink, and the supervisor's share.

Now, that stupid bastard from Laixi is actually willing to pay five or six times the price to rent it?

And it's only a one-year lease; the person will still be his after that year!

This is like a windfall!

"What additional conditions did they impose?" Viscount Stalenf asked, suppressing his elation and feigning profundity.

He instinctively felt that something was wrong, but the enormous profits prevented him from thinking calmly.

"No, sir. The only condition is that you can provide the first batch of five hundred laborers as soon as possible."

"Hahahaha!" Viscount Stalenf could no longer contain himself and burst into a deafening burst of maniacal laughter.

He stood up and paced around the room, his obese body making the floor groan.

“Foolish! Utterly foolish!” he shouted, spitting as he spoke.

"That peasant named Lacey thinks he can get away with anything by inciting a bunch of lowly people? He's just a country bumpkin who's never seen the world! A single fire scared him so badly he wet himself! Hahahaha!"

"Now you actually want to pay money to avoid trouble, and you even want to borrow people from me to do work for you?"

The more he thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed.

Viseheim has just experienced a major fire, and Gertrude has only recently taken office. Everything is in need of rebuilding and manpower is urgently required.

The Workers' Party members are just a bunch of peasants; besides shouting slogans and fighting, how many of them can actually do any work?

The only solution is to pay for skilled laborers.

As for this price... it only shows that the other party is really desperate and has absolutely no business sense.

“Tell them I agree!” Viscount Stalenf waved his hand, his face revealing undisguised greed.

"However, the price... needs to be changed."

He picked up a pen, crossed out "fifty" on the agreement, and changed it to "sixty".

"Tell them this is a friendly price for Miss Gertrude!"

"The first batch of five hundred men will be sent to the border in three days! Tell them to prepare gold coins!"

He could almost see the endless stream of gold coins flowing into his vault.

He believed he had won a victory without bloodshed, not only severely humiliating his opponent but also making a fortune.

……

When the news reached Viseheim, everyone thought Lacey had gone mad.

"Sixty gold coins per person! Why doesn't he just rob us! Lacey, are we really going to accept this humiliating condition?" Gertrude cursed, her face ashen, as she looked at the agreement the messenger brought back.

Even Taylor the blacksmith, who trusted Lacey the most, couldn't help but ask, "Boss, are we just going to give away all the money we've worked so hard to earn to that fat pig?"

Lacey took the agreement, a smile appearing on her face instead.

"Don't be impatient, Miss Gertrude, of course we will accept."

"The more he wants, the faster he will die."

He turned to Taylor behind him and ordered, “Pass the word down to prepare the camp, food and hot water. In three days, we will be welcoming five hundred new comrades from Finkshire.”

Although Taylor was equally confused, he had an almost blind trust in Lacey.

He nodded and replied in a deep voice, "Yes!"

……

The air in Finkshire is always filled with the smell of coal dust.

Jonas clutched the rations wrapped in rags tightly to his chest; these were his food for the next week.

His mother, a thin woman with dry, yellow hair, was gripping his arm tightly, silently weeping.

His younger sister, Lina, was only seven years old. She hid behind her mother and looked at him timidly.

"Brother... will you come back?" Lina asked softly.

Jonas's heart clenched. He wanted to say he would come back, but he didn't want to lie to his family.

He was chosen.

He was one of the first 500 laborers leased to Viseheim by Viscount Starenf.

Nobody knows what "rent" means.

To the miners and serfs of Finkshire, it was no different from being sold off.

Viseheim, in their word of mouth, was a hell worse than the mines of Finkshire.

The area was controlled by a mob that committed arson, murder, looting, and all sorts of atrocities.

A small group of workers from Finkshire had previously fled there, but no news of them ever returned.

Those who were sent there probably wouldn't even have any bones left.

But can he resist?

The viscount's guards stood not far away; the weapons at their waists and the indifference on their faces were enough to dispel any illusions.

"Take good care of Mom." Jonas took out three copper coins that he had kept hidden for a long time from his pocket and put them into his little sister's hand.

"This was saved by my brother."

He dared not look into his family's eyes again, turned around abruptly, and joined the group.

Five hundred men, like a herd of cattle being driven, set off for Viseheim under the escort of the Viscount's guard.

Behind them were the suppressed sobs of their families and the sympathetic yet relieved glances of their fellow villagers.

The group was quiet; few people spoke, and everyone's face showed numbness and fear of the unknown.

Next to Jonas was a one-armed miner named Old Haig, whose arm had been broken in a mining accident many years ago.

"Kid, don't even think about it." Old Hager patted Jonas on the shoulder with his good hand, his voice hoarse.

"When you get there, be smart and live one day at a time."

"If... if you really can't survive, at least leave yourself with some dignity."

Jonas understood what he meant.

Many miners, driven to desperation, ultimately chose to end their tragic lives with a rope or a stone.

Is this my fate?

He was only seventeen years old, and he hadn't yet given his mother and sister a single day of happiness.

Resentment and anger grew wildly in my heart, but I was too heavy to lift my head because of the harsh reality.

……

Holy Lytanian Empire: Chapter 30: This is Viseheim, this is the Workers' Party

After a full day's journey, as the sun began to set, the Finkshire laborers finally reached the border of Viseheim.

A city completely different from Finkshire appeared before them.