Chapter 39

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: There Is No Mercy 39

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Those with a stake in each agenda item spoke freely, and votes were taken when necessary.

The meeting dragged on tediously, but the topics were just as straightforward and peaceful.

About an hour after it began, when most people's attention had started to wane, Count Ricardo tossed out a major item.

"The fifth agenda: easing export taxes, tabled from the previous meeting. Proposed by Count Oxiad."

Count Ricardo handed the floor to the proposer.

Count Oxiad rose slowly from his seat, his thick belly on full display, and scanned the room.

His jowls bloated with greed and sagging cheeks twisted into a grotesque smile as he lifted his head and spoke firmly.

"Same proposal as last meeting. Running a mid-sized business like mine in the Empire's saturated domestic market is next to impossible. The only way to survive is to break into foreign markets. But we're slapped with crippling tariffs on exports. We need to ease them to a reasonable level and open the floodgates for trade."

Once Count Oxiad finished, Count Ricardo looked around.

His eyes searched for anyone who might object.

But no one raised a hand.

No need— this had come up multiple times before, debated to death.

It was obvious without looking.

"Then we'll do a preliminary vote."

No need to watch.

Most sat back, arms down, observing.

Meanwhile, those who agreed with Count Oxiad shot their hands up faster than anyone.

Of the hundred attendees, those in favor didn't even break a majority.

Count Ricardo scanned the room and tallied formally.

"It'll be tough to pass this time too. Not only did we fail to sway the opposition, but even the neutrals."

"The neutrals?"

"Marquis Mormond. The most prominent figure among those who don't side with anyone. Without him, you won't get the votes."

He shot a glance at Marquis Mormond, who sat with a bored expression.

Just as Chelano said, no one around the marquis had raised a hand.

Count Ricardo finished counting and noted it down before speaking.

"Of a hundred total, twenty-eight in favor. The motion is ta..."

"I vote yes."

A heavy voice cut off Count Ricardo, drawing all eyes.

It was Marquis Mormond, who had sat silently until now.

The room buzzed at his sudden move.

"...You said yes?"

Count Ricardo confirmed again, and Marquis Mormond simply raised his hand without a word.

But it didn't end there.

Everyone in the neutral bloc around him raised their hands too.

Added to the yes votes, it easily cleared a majority.

The chamber erupted in murmurs.

Marquis Mormond's unexpected intervention shattered the silence.

Amid the gasps of surprise, he quickly raised a hand and beckoned Riphert, who had been standing back.

"...Do it."

As Riphert approached, he whispered instructions. Riphert nodded.

Handing off to another knight, Riphert swiftly left the chamber.

She watched his retreating back, eyes narrowing.

"What nonsense is this...!"

Chelano muttered in shock.

Most froze at the unforeseen turn, but Count Oxiad stood unfazed, thick neck craned forward like he was just watching.

As if he had known.

"Of a hundred total, sixty-two in favor—a majority. The preliminary vote passes."

Count Ricardo's slow voice sank low like a heavy wind.

The heavy door creaked open, and Marquis Mormond entered, followed by Count Oxiad.

Mormond approached the sideboard familiarly, pulled out a bottle of wine, and turned leisurely.

"Care for a glass?"

"I'm a connoisseur who can spot fine liquor a mile away."

Marquis Mormond smirked at Count Oxiad's exuberant, beaming face.

The cork popped, and the faint aroma of white grape filled the room.

Drawn by the scent, Count Oxiad stepped up to the wine.

He admired its glistening pour into the glass, then grabbed the stem and took a swig.

Marquis Mormond watched impassively as he uncorked without asking.

'Like a beast.'

The House of Mormond was a prestigious powerhouse woven into the Empire's history.

Naturally, he was a noble and soldier of authority.

To Marquis Mormond, who prized elegance, grace, etiquette, and decorum above all, the man before him was livestock masquerading as nobility.

Normally, he wouldn't deign to speak to or even look at such types.

They were ugly and graceless—undead lured by money, obsessed with stuffing their bellies.

But Marquis Mormond, devout believer in rank and power, couldn't ignore orders from above.

Not from the Bozbon Duke Family.

A power even the Imperial Family couldn't dismiss lightly—one standing above it.

"Excellent vintage. You must be a fellow enthusiast, Marquis. Ha ha ha!"

"......"

Buoyed by the tax break victory, Count Oxiad bellowed a hearty laugh.

"Fine room. As expected from the head of House Mormond, one of the Empire's top five powers."

"Glad you think so."

He disliked the man, but not the flattery.

Especially when it stroked his power.

Marquis Mormond twisted his lips and turned with his glass.

"Word is you're a promising businessman. They say easing export taxes will line your pockets handsomely."

"Ha ha, too kind... but true. Your eye is spot-on, Marquis."

Cheap speech and vocabulary fit for a flea market, not nobility.

Marquis Mormond wondered if the count had won his title at cards but dismissed it.

Irrelevant.

"Heard the Bozbon Duke Family has keen interest in your ventures. That's why I backed you. Know that?"

"Heh heh, of course. They've already given me the nod."

"Clever. Backing from the immovable Bozbon Dukes. Countless have tried and ended up buried for it. Moving them means your business has real promise."

Marquis Mormond raised his glass again.

Count Oxiad met his gaze steadily, grinned, and nodded.

Marquis Mormond stared at the piggish face and sipped.

"What do you think? Can you take them down?"

"What... do you mean?"

"Brilloxen."

The name hit out of nowhere, widening Count Oxiad's eyes.

A face asking what it meant.

Marquis Mormond scowled, and Count Oxiad flinched, blurting quickly.

"B-Brilloxen is a natural-born magnate. Untouchable even among us—a wall of grain. Their centuries of wealth are beyond measure, their assets staggering. Hard to find Empire business untouched by Brilloxen. They grip the primary and secondary industries at the core of everything..."

"You think I don't know that? Just answer."

"I-Im-Impossible. Long-term with heavy investment, maybe, but exports alone without domestic? No."

"Pathetic."

Marquis Mormond clicked his tongue and drained his glass.

Count Oxiad's elation crashed to the ground.

Why Brilloxen all of a sudden...?

As he gauged the mood, Marquis Mormond scowled deeper.

'A mere provincial count house...'

To a quintessential noble like him, Brilloxen was beneath notice.

But in several meetings tangled with them, voting power had matched or favored Brilloxen.

A humiliation for a central elite like Marquis Mormond.

His teeth ground with a chilling grind.

Count Oxiad hunched his thick neck at the eerie sound.

"The tax reform will pass. The chair's unanimous vote is in my pocket anyway. Focus on your business."

"Y-Yes, sir."

Marquis Mormond set down his glass and approached the bowing count.

He seized the man's chin and tilted it up.

His gaze pierced the count's murky eyes.

"Remember this. Impressive pulling in Bozbon and Mormond, but failure's backlash will crush that bulk of yours. Got it?"

Count Oxiad nodded frantically at the menacing tone.

He shook off the hand and backed away.

"Go."

Marquis Mormond turned away.