Fangzhou Xier, starting with failing the art exam

Werner was the last to leave.

He walked up to Lacey and said softly, “Your Majesty, you are moving too fast. Your foundation is not yet solid, and you are prone to losing your balance.”

“Wolner,” Lacey turned to look at him, “once the wheels of time begin to turn, they cannot be stopped.”

Looking into Lacey's determined eyes, Warner bowed deeply.

"The Hochberg family will always be with you."

The doors slowly closed, and besides Lacey and his core team, only the two former queens remained in the council chamber.

Lacey looked at the two of them and thought for a while before saying, "Lizelot, Herlinmat."

Liselotte abruptly raised her head and stared intently into the man's eyes.

"From today onwards, the two of you will serve as my special envoys, or rather, my guards."

"You will always be by my side, witnessing how I govern this country and lead it to prosperity."

“You won’t humiliate us!” Liselotte screamed.

Lacey looked at her: "This is all the value you have left. Professor Fremont entrusted you to me, and I never waste anything of value."

After a long silence, Helena Matt slowly stood up and said, "I accept."

"Herlinmat! You're insane!"

“We have no choice, Liselotte.”

…………

Holy Leitanian Empire: Chapter 85: Night of the Longsword

When the red flag with the sickle and hammer was raised atop the Twin Towers, Trinity was split into two completely different worlds.

In the working-class district, the atmosphere at the "Wild Boar and Horn" tavern was hotter than the strongest ale.

The smell of sawdust and sweat mingled together, creating a unique and satisfying experience for laborers.

A young fitter named Carl was standing on the table, waving his arms, his cheeks flushed red with excitement and alcohol.

"I'm telling you!"

"My cousin! He works at the steel mill in Wasser territory!"

"They got apartments! The kind with running water!" he roared, his voice almost drowned out by the cheers around him.

"No more crammed into a moldy basement with the whole family! Long live Her Majesty Lacey!"

"Great! Our good days are coming! We won't have to put up with those noble lords anymore!"

The tavern owner brought out a large platter of ale and grinned, saying, "It's on me today!"

"Cheers to His Majesty Lacey, cheers to the Workers' Party!"

"For the people's emperor!" An old miner with a missing finger raised a bottle of liquor, his cloudy eyes gleaming.

"cheers!"

"cheers!"

Everyone in the tavern raised their glasses, and cheap beer foam splashed everywhere, creating a sea of ​​joy.

Many of them don't even fully understand complex terms like "Workers' Party" or "economic community," but they simply believe one thing:

An emperor who, like them, climbed up from the bottom will always understand their hardships better than those noblemen who were born into wealth and luxury.

The newly printed Workers' Daily was passed around in the tavern, the ink still wet.

The headline on the front page, written in the largest font, read: "A New Era: Our Emperor, Our Age!"

The newspapers published the full text of Lacey's speech in Parliament, and every word was discussed repeatedly.

"'Where does my power come from, and to whom should I serve!'... Good heavens, listen to this! What kind of talk is this!"

A literate apprentice was reading from the newspaper.

"In the past, emperors would only say, 'I am the state!'"

"Our children will be able to go to school soon!"

"I heard that in the factory in the Waser region, people only work eight hours a day! And they even have holidays!"

Hope is spreading among the city's underclass.

The anticipation of a bright future is the most intoxicating wine at this moment.

……

Meanwhile, in the aristocratic district surrounded by high walls and gardens, the scene was quite different.

In Earl Will Alarand’s mansion, all the curtains were drawn tightly shut.

The fireplace was burning not fine oak, but stacks of land deeds, account books, and some shady letters.

The firelight illuminated the count's fat, pale face, and beads of sweat kept sliding down his forehead.

"Quick! Find the diamond necklace Mother left behind! And those boxes of gold coins in the basement! Pack them all up!"

The countess screamed, directing her equally panicked servants.

Her voice was shrill with fear, completely devoid of its usual elegance.

"Father, are we really leaving?" The count's young son stood dejectedly to the side.

“Go to Victoria? Columbia? We’ll end up with nothing!”

"Shut up! You idiot!"

The count turned around abruptly and slapped his son across the face.

"Nothing at all? If we stay here, we won't even survive!"

"Do you think that peasant emperor will let us off the hook? He dares to put His Excellency Abraham and his men under house arrest today, and he dares to hang us all in the square tomorrow!"

An elderly man who looked like a butler rushed in from outside, his face even more grim than the count's.

"Sir, something terrible has happened! The streets... the streets are full of Workers' Party members!"

"They've sealed off all the city gates and stations, and are registering property door-to-door!"

"What?!" The count slumped onto the sofa, his eyes vacant.

Their escape route was also blocked.

Fear spread rapidly among these once pampered nobles.

They exchanged messages through secret channels, and each message only fueled their despair.

"General Valentine, the commander of the Golden Law Guard, refused to take the oath and was dismissed on the spot. He is now imprisoned in the dark dungeon!"

"All the old people in the tax department have been kicked out and replaced with a group of people brought by Vasseur!"

"The Imperial Chronicle has been shut down! The editor-in-chief has been arrested! They say it's the 'mouthpiece of the old era'!"

……

Baron Victor Krupp, one of Letania’s largest arms contractors.

During the period of the Deprivation Decree, he actively responded to the royal call to stop supplying steel to the Vasseur territory.

As evening fell, the baron was flirting with his mistress in his luxurious mansion.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The butler opened the door and was greeted with an arrest warrant bearing a seal.

"Victor Krupp, you are under arrest for economic treason." The intelligence officer presented the arrest warrant.

"Do you know who I am? I am Krupp!" the Baron roared.

"I know, take it with you."

The man waved his hand, and immediately someone went up and dragged the baron away. Then, a group of people rushed into the mansion.

That evening, Krupp's assets were seized, and he himself was immediately sent to a labor camp in the territory of Vaser.

Similar scenes are playing out across the country.

Those nobles and wealthy merchants who amassed their fortunes through monopolies and exploitation, and those generals in the army who outwardly obeyed but inwardly defied orders...

Not a single name was omitted from Gertrude's list.

……

Spice merchant Anton was watching nervously through the window of his shop as a troop of guards marched past in orderly steps down the street.

They were well-equipped and had sharp eyes, completely different from the lazy city defense troops of the past.

"They...won't break in, will they?" Anton's wife asked, her voice trembling as she hid behind him.

"Don't scare yourself," Anton comforted his wife, but his own palms were sweaty.

He wasn't an aristocrat, but he was still quite wealthy.

He had heard of the commercial prosperity of the Wasser Territory and held a glimmer of hope that Lacey could break the monopoly of the old nobility.

But at the same time, the rumors about "nationalization" and "liquidation" kept him up at night.

He didn't know whether he was categorized as being on the side of the people or on the side of the people's enemies.

"Boss, someone's handing out flyers outside." A shop assistant ran in with a piece of paper in his hand.

Anton took it and saw that it was printed with "A Letter to All Citizens of Triinttelme", ​​signed "The Imperial Central Cabinet".

The content is simple: protect all legitimate private property, encourage free trade, severely crack down on speculators and market disruptors, and announce new tax rates.

The new tax rate is 20% lower than during the reign of the Gemini Queens.

Anton was stunned. He looked at it several times to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"This...this is real?" he murmured to himself.

A commotion arose in the distant square.

Anton stood on tiptoe and saw a group of people gathered around a makeshift bulletin board.

Several propagandists dressed in Workers' Party green uniforms are explaining the new policies to the public.

"Fellow citizens!"

"The new government promises that everyone's legal income will be protected!"

"What we are cracking down on are only those parasites that suck the blood and sweat of the people!"

"Starting tomorrow, each household can collect a free bread and milk at the community service station by presenting their identification!"

"This is a gift from His Majesty Lacey to everyone!"

"Wuhu~"

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

As Anton watched all this, the scales in his heart began to sway violently.

He felt both at ease and strangely unfamiliar.

The world seems to be changing rapidly in a way he cannot comprehend.

……

While joys and sorrows unfolded in every corner of the city.

Mecklen Neham is currently undergoing a unique crash course on "integrating into the new era" in his temporary mansion in the capital.

He hired Triinttelme's best tailor to make him a green stand-up collar worker's uniform.

Then, he had his men find a worker with a loud voice and teach him to sing the most popular revolutionary song, "We Workers Have Power".

"Hey! We workers have power! Hey! Busy working every day... building skyscrapers... uh... what's the next line again?"

Mecklen blushed, and his off-key singing startled even the pet bird next to him.

His deputy, suppressing a laugh, reminded him, "Boss, it means 'underground pipelines'."

"Yes, yes, yes! Lay the pipeline!" Mecklen slapped his thigh.