The Vastness of Magical Destiny
Chapter 298: Volume 4: Turbulent World - 20: Nicosia (1)

Chapter 298: Volume 4: Turbulent World Chapter 20: Nicosia (1)

The cool breeze of late autumn already bears a hint of chill. In half a month, autumn will have passed, heralding the arrival of the harsh cold of severe winter. The icy winds from the Far North Icefield seem as though they emanate from the depths of hell itself, utterly unstoppable by a few worn tents alone. This is why the representatives of the Three Cities are so desperate to get these refugees on the road; no one wishes to bear the responsibility for refugees freezing or starving to death. If they can safely deliver these refugees to their destination, whatever happens afterward will no longer concern the Three Cities. Both morally and in terms of duty, they can wash their hands of the whole affair.

The kingdom, too, hopes to resolve this matter sooner rather than later. The longer they linger here, the more uncertainties may arise, especially since many refugees, reluctant to journey to the remote and barren Caucasus, form groups intent on breaking into the kingdom’s territory. Some refugees have even started to flee, attempting to sneak into Nicosia’s lands, leaving the kingdom’s border patrols utterly overwhelmed. All these issues could be resolved once these people are on their way as soon as possible.

Of course, the vast majority of refugees are simple and kind-hearted. In their eyes, escaping the threat of the Beastmen to go anywhere is better than staying where they are. There’s a significant difference between being a slave and a free citizen, something all refugees clearly understand.

After ten days of preparations, the refugee convoys finally completed their tally and assembly, setting off in seven separate groups. The appearance of Fran caused a stir among the refugees from the Fran Principality, to their delight. It was said the senior infantry officer, believed to have fallen in battle at Mycenae, had unexpectedly reappeared before their fellow countrymen, now refugees themselves, naturally arousing everyone’s curiosity. As Fran recounted his ordeals, refugees from the Myron Duchy were immersed in sad reminiscences of their former Royal City. With Fran’s assistance, Komer quickly earned a degree of respect and loyalty from the refugees of the Myron Duchy. Of course, this was only the first step, but a good beginning laid a solid foundation for future developments, which greatly satisfied Komer. Moreover, news from Duke Tez suggested that Duke Zellin’s Territory, Duke Philip, and the Boninsky Territory had begrudgingly agreed to allow this group of refugees to pass through, though certainly not without a hefty transit fee.

Almost everyone was waiting to see Komer make a fool of himself. A sparsely populated frontier land with barely five thousand indigenous people had suddenly taken in one hundred and fifty thousand refugees without any prior preparation. Who would believe that a spoiled young man with no governance experience could handle it all? Many even predicted that the Kingdom Star Chamber Court would strip Komer of his rights and freedoms, even his life, accusing him of Lord’s dereliction of duty.

In the small reception hall, several potted plants from the South spread their verdant leaves, instantly brightening the otherwise stiff and dull room. An elderly man in a casual robe sat casually in the main seat’s suede armchair, although his gaze was fixed on a portrait on the opposite wall. The portrait depicted a dignified and solemn middle-aged man in military garb, with a dazzling crown standing tall upon his head. The resplendent Marshal’s uniform was adorned with emblems and patterns denoting the Royal Family, and a Nine-section Bamboo scepter rested beneath the clasped hands. A slender stiletto was sheathed in a Shark Skin Scabbard, its gold-wrapped hilt exuding a sense of supreme nobility even within the painting.

The weather in late autumn is somewhat gloomy and cold, adding a sense of heaviness and depression to the room. Already seated in the three wooden chairs arrayed in a small semi-circle, each person seems absorbed in thought. A thick newspaper rests untouched on the glass table at the center of the circle. It takes a while for the elder to tear his gaze away from the portrait, and with a gentle sigh, he turns his head and shoots a quick glance at the nervous, corpulent man seated on the rightmost wooden chair. The man’s heavy, ornate robe, with a chain of irregular diamond-shaped flowers encircling the cuffs, makes his movements in the chair awkward. His lips quivered for a long time, but ultimately, he didn’t utter a word.

"Parker, if you have something to say, spit it out. Don’t hem and haw. I’m in a good mood today; you don’t need to hold back," remarked the elder, impatience evident on his face, his commanding presence leaving no doubt about the hierarchy among those present.

"Your Majesty, I have some unfortunate news to share. After distributing the soldiers’ officer salaries, our finances are utterly depleted. Officials have been without pay for three months, and to prepare for Your Majesty’s thirtieth anniversary celebration of ascension next year, significant funds are required for palace renovations and new construction, which must begin immediately to be ready. Additionally, pensions are due for distribution, but the treasury is empty," the man said, awkwardly rubbing his forehead as if a knife had sliced his face, his lips painfully twisting like a scar.

As the Finance Minister of the Kingdom of Nicosia, Parker considered himself perhaps the most ineffectual in his lineage. With annual revenues scraping by, the kingdom’s finances were akin to robbing Peter to pay Paul, growing more challenging by the year. The unpaid salaries for officials and soldiers had become normal, causing murmurs of discontent. But what could be done? It all came down to those damned Beastmen, whose increasingly frequent invasions forced the army to spend vast amounts of funds on fortresses and strongholds and to continuously expand, now over twice its peacetime size. This put enormous pressure on the kingdom’s finances, and the astronomical numbers of pensions for soldiers slain or maimed in defense against the Beastman Army were but one aspect of this dire predicament.