Forsaken Priest of the Hero's Party-Chapter 90: I Wonder If Theres Any Logic To This

With the Emperor, the Imperial Princess, Archbishop, and the Imperial Princes gone, Finance Minister Valens remained to address the refugees from the Cidatel Republic.

The Emperor had assigned him this task, knowing that Valens was the one most acquainted with the Republic’s representatives. His extensive financial dealings with the Republic had given him an unparalleled understanding of their plight.

“The Empire is vast, but this archipelago is small. The imported food simply cannot sustain all these refugees,” Valens began.

His words were a measured refusal, firm yet leaving room for further negotiation. The real issue was money. Nothing was as straightforward as a simple yes or no, every detail was open to debate.

“On that note, we had agreed to forgive all the Empire’s bonds, yet...”

“Councilor Ranbolt, the situation has evolved. None of us anticipated such a surge in refugees. There isn’t sufficient land for shelter, much less the food to sustain them. If grain prices soar because of this, won’t our citizens suffer the consequences?”

Valens, who had long resented the Republic’s representatives, saw this as a chance to push back. He had always despised how the tiny Republic carried itself with superiority, all because of its lucrative loans to the Empire.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

To him, this crisis was an opportunity to fix some of the Empire’s financial problems. Valens wasn’t aligned with the Imperial faction, the Temple faction, or any Prince or Princess. He had his own agenda.

Unlike Baron Eandrim, Valens charted a different course. While Eandrim was sidelined and shunned by all factions, His exceptional abilities would compel any faction in power to hire him.

His mentor had been Baron Toluen, the former Finance Minister ousted by Ardein. Like his mentor, Valens was loyal not to individuals but to the Empire itself.

However, Valens differed in one key way. While his mentor balanced grievances with solutions, Valens placed fiscal discipline above all, above even human lives. In his view, human lives were secondary to the health of the Empire’s treasury.

“So here’s my proposal. Ten gold for men, eight gold for women, and two gold for children,” Valens announced without a hint of hesitation.

The sheer audacity of his statement sent shockwaves through the room. His ability to openly declare this in front of everyone showed how formidable he was.

“In exchange for this payment, we’ll keep the gates open. If you can’t pay in cash, goods will be acceptable. We will even accept jewels at full value under these circumstances. But you must also supply the magic stones necessary to sustain the gates.”

“This is outrageous! Pure robbery!”

The normally subdued councilors exploded in anger.

Ten gold coins might seem modest, yet each coin was pure gold, magically reinforced and immensely valuable. One such coin could easily pay a worker’s entire month’s wages.

The councilors could afford wines priced at several gold coins for dinner. They were well aware, however, that such a fee was unmanageable for ordinary citizens.

But not everyone in the Cidatel Republic was wealthy. What about those who couldn’t pay?

“What happens to those who cannot afford it?”

“The Empire is not a charity. Food does not simply appear here; the price is justified given that we supply food, shelter, and clothing. We’ve already done our best to accommodate your circumstances.”

Valens was not driven by personal malice toward the Republic. In truth, the situation was far more complicated, and his mind was overwhelmed with the challenges ahead.

The Cidatel Republic stood at the heart of continental commerce and maritime trade. Its collapse would reverberate with massive repercussions throughout the continent. Trade ground to a halt, only for desperate merchants to scramble in an attempt to restore order.

When logistics fail, prices soar. This surge impacts both luxury goods and essential items such as food. Cities on the archipelago, unlike their rural counterparts, could not produce their own food and depended entirely on imports.

He knew that a sudden surge in demand would precipitate food shortages and uncontrollably soaring prices. To brace for the impending crisis, he intended to bolster the Empire’s coffers, with precious metals available for immediate use.

In his eyes, the Republic was culpable for this disaster and should therefore foot the bill for remediation. With the funds, the Empire could buy the expensive food needed to sustain its people and strengthen its economy to weather the upcoming storm.

The Finance Minister remained unyielding, his stance uncompromising.

With him taking the lead, others had little room to argue. Emotionally, many in the Empire wanted to help the refugees, but not at the cost of draining their treasury. With the Emperor, Archbishop, Prime Minister, and other key figures absent, those remaining had little authority to oppose the Finance Minister. All they could do was stay silent and let him handle it.

“10 gold is exorbitant. We should settle for four gold for adult men.”

“10 gold. The price stays.”

“How can you place a price on saving lives? Let’s compromise at five gold, even one gold is burdensome for ordinary citizens.”

Without a hint of hesitation, the Finance Minister retorted, “10 gold.”

“This is absurd. How about six gold?”

“10 gold, And frankly, you don’t have time for this back-and-forth. This negotiation isn’t what matters.”

He pressed on, clearly exasperated by the debate.

“Listen. You wealthy folks will leave most of your assets behind the gate anyway. Let people bring whatever property they’re leaving behind to cover the fee. We will accept it as payment; lives will be saved, and your valuables won’t be lost beneath the ash. Everyone wins.”

“Are you suggesting we let paupers trample through our homes, rummaging through our valuables?”

“You label your own citizens as paupers and expect us to shelter them? Do you think the Empire is a soup kitchen? Have your citizens ever contributed taxes to this Empire? This price is not unreasonable,”

The Finance Minister snapped. He clicked his tongue.

“And do you think your homes remain untouched after you’ve fled? Any valuables would already have been pillaged by mobs. These are assets you’ve already abandoned. Frankly, we don’t even need your agreement.”

He made it clear: the Empire would impose this fee, and the desperate would find a way to pay, even if that meant resorting to looting the wealth of those who had fled. As for those unable to pay, the Temple wouldn’t allow soldiers to drive them back to specific deaths.

“Do you plan to deny entry to those who can’t pay?”

“We’re not that heartless. They may enter on credit, though their debt will accumulate interest. If they can’t repay, they’ll work it off.”

“You speak so easily of turning Republic citizens into slaves.”

The councilors recoiled at the idea, yet none stepped forward to contribute funds. After all, they required capital to rebuild their lives and compete with established local merchants.

Wouldn’t they need capital to return to the position of wealthy merchants while enduring the territorial fees of the local merchants?

The Republic’s councilors exchanged uncertain glances. Though ten gold per person was undeniably steep, in light of the survival cost it appeared, paradoxically, reasonable.They had no choice but to be thankful it wasn’t higher.

“Very well. If money is what you demand, we’ll pay,” Councilor Motabil conceded, raising his hands in surrender. But it came with a condition. “In return, the Empire must treat our citizens fairly. I trust there will be no mistreatment.”

“Naturally, as long as the fee is paid,” the Finance Minister replied with a nod.

An agreement was drafted, and both the Republic’s committee chairman and the Finance Minister sealed it. Each side retained a copy for their records.

The Finance Minister turned to his official. “Approve the opening of the gate. Call the Minister of Military Affairs to ensure order and prepare the necessary papers and pens for registration. Make sure to collect the fees exactly as outlined.”

The official nodded and hurried out. Every moment now mattered. The faster they began, the more lives, and revenue, they could secure.

The gate was small, and it was evident that not everyone would pass through before the volcano’s full eruption.

In all likelihood, they wouldn’t be able to rescue even 10% of the people, leaving the remainder doomed to be buried in volcanic ash. The Finance Minister sat back in his chair. Despite the massive fortune to be gained, his concerns only deepened.

If you watch your neighbor’s home collapse, how can you be sure yours won’t be next? If that figure from the North intended to act, the Empire needed to prepare.

But how? Such preparations weren’t something money alone could achieve.

“I wonder if this position even means anything,” he muttered bitterly, a rueful smile crossing his face.

If that catastrophe truly struck, no amount of military funding or clever schemes would make a difference. The money would be useless against a force like that.

All he could do was hope that the worst would never come to pass.