Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Given the current situation in Iron Peak County, one couldn't buy food or weapons even with gold or silver.

So the Six-man Group decided to simply "redeem" the Arsenal and the granaries from the town hall.

The price was negotiable, but as long as it wasn't too exorbitant, the town hall would happily accept a little loss.

No one understood better than Winters and his associates: stealing money would enrage a city even more than taking lives.

Through equal trade and gaining mutual trust, Revodan could be stabilized.

What the Six-man Group most wanted was "stability," and no one wished to see Revodan in flames.

They did not intend to take over Revodan completely, as long as taxes were paid on time, it was better for Revodan to continue its self-governance.

Bard had already obtained all the files from the Revodan garrison and was organizing them.

The Six-man Group was clear about how much tax Revodan should pay and when; they were not afraid of being bullied by the town council.

...

Bard raised his hand, signaling everyone to stop.

The town hall suddenly returned to silence.

"There's also good news from the garrison, I'll tell you all here!" Bard continued to announce, "The millstone tax within the territory of Iron Peak County is hereby abolished! There will no longer be a need to pay it! Everyone is free to use and manufacture millstones!"

The town council members cheered and applauded once again.

But they were merely putting on a show this time, not genuinely clapping as before.

Because they were people of status, identity, and wealth, they were not very sensitive to the "millstone tax".

The millstone tax was, in essence, a tax on millstones.

People couldn't eat wheat; they needed flour, so the wheat had to go through a millstone first.

Therefore, taxing the millstone became an obvious choice for the rulers.

The Republic of Palatu was relatively lenient, taxing millstones just once each quarter.

And it strictly restricted the number of artisans allowed to manufacture millstones to ensure every millstone was registered.

During the feudal era in Palatu, commoners had to go to the mills designated by their local lords to have their wheat ground.

Privately owning a hand-cranked millstone was a grave offense: the first time, five lashes; the second, forced labor; the third, direct amputation of the arm; and those who manufactured millstones were executed.

You would take a pound of wheat to be ground and only get back seven or eight taels of flour.

The reduced amount represented "loss" that went into the miller's pocket and then to the lord's purse.

The millstone tax was the most hated and direct tax for people still struggling for survival.

Bard, announcing the abolition of the millstone tax, wore a satisfied and sincere smile.

Later, he announced another significant matter:

"This weekend!" Bard's smile grew brighter, "The garrison will hold a [public trial assembly] in the city square. I hope members of the town council will set an example, do their work, and ensure that every citizen of Revodan participates."

The smiles on the faces of the town council members stiffened.

...

The meeting concluded, and the town council members bid each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

But not even half an hour passed before the twelve members of the committee met again at the home of the sugar merchant [Priskin].

They sat around the elder Priskin, taking turns recounting the day's events.

The elder Priskin was sixty-four years old, still robust, and was once the most esteemed member of the Revodan town council.

However, he had fallen gravely ill at the beginning of the year and resigned from his position on the council.

The others had wanted to nominate his second son, young Priskin, as a replacement, but the old man strictly forbade it, and they had to drop the idea.

After resigning from the town council, the elder Priskin's health gradually improved.

Although he had retired, he remained the backbone of the town council, with others still coming to him for advice on important matters.

"The new lieutenant called Bard, he's so capable! Truly capable!" said the blacksmith, Shao Yi, struggling to swallow his saliva, with a sense of awe: "It's as if he's toying with us, leading us to feel joy and fear on his command, completely at his mercy."

After hearing the account, the elder Priskin furrowed his brow and asked, "That Lieutenant Bard, does he always refer to himself as [the garrison]?"

"Yes." Everyone nodded, and someone mockingly said, "The Rebels enter the city and claim to be officials; quite amusing, really."

"Foolish!" The elder Priskin slapped the table, scolding, "Would you be happier if he didn't claim to be an officer and instead terrorized us as an outright bandit?"

The one who made the jest was frightened into trembling by the rebuke.

Elder Priskin's frown relaxed, "If they don't want to be officers, we have to coax them to be; now they want to be, we must flatter them even more. Business as usual, life goes on, isn't that good? Our fortunes and properties are all in Revodan, do you actually wish for them to turn into bandits?"

"What about that... that so-called public trial assembly?" Shao Yi licked his lips inquiringly, "Shall we attend? He didn't say who he would judge, only that there would be a trial."

"Why wouldn't we go? Not only should we go, but we should also bring friends and family along!" The elder Priskin rebuked, exasperated: "Since he claims to be an officer, if we act righteously and sit straight, why would we fear his judgment? We need to support them, understand? Put them high on a pedestal. The higher their stature, the safer Revodan will be."

Hearing this, the others silently nodded in agreement.

After a moment of silence, the elder Priskin pondered and queried, "That leader, who is known as [Blood Wolf], did any of you see him this time when you went?"

"No," replied Shao Yi, shaking his head, "We only saw him from a distance when he entered the city, riding a tall horse, dressed in an officer's uniform, also quite young, but he seemed very imposing."

"He used to be the Garrison Officer of Wolfton?"

"So it's said."

"Blood Wolf..." The elder Priskin chewed on the name, asking those present, "Such a dangerous nickname. Does anyone know how it came about?"