"While ensuring your family’s status, dealing with pressure from neighboring nobles and the Royal Family’s tax collectors, can you truly share all the output of your estate with the serfs who toil for you?"

Count Raymond opened his mouth, but found it difficult to offer an immediate, forceful rebuttal.

Under Murphy’s calm analysis, the reforms he had been so proud of indeed seemed woefully inadequate.

Deep disappointment crept across the Count’s face, along with a hint of embarrassment.

He leaned back in his chair, his once-straight back seeming to stoop slightly.

The air in the living room seemed to grow heavy and stagnant along with his sinking mood.

Aurora let out a soft sigh, so faint it was nearly inaudible.

Eleanor paused what she was doing, her dark eyes quietly observing her father, then shifting to the Count opposite them, who had suddenly lost his luster.

Just as the silence was about to become awkward, Murphy spoke again:

"Moreover, Count, the very starting point of your thinking is perhaps somewhat flawed."

Count Raymond raised his eyes blankly.

Murphy continued, "All of your proposals, be they moderate reforms or radical blueprints, revolve around a single word: ’distribution.’ How to more fairly distribute land, distribute output, distribute power. This is important, but it is not the root of the problem."

"The root lies in ’production’—in how much this land and these people can actually create with the existing knowledge, tools, and methods of organization."

"It’s like a water bucket. If it can only hold so much water, then no matter how you adjust the ladle or the rules for dividing the water, what each person receives will ultimately be limited. In fact, due to the waste from fighting over it and the distribution process itself, the total amount might even decrease."

Count Raymond’s brow furrowed tightly.

"Look out the window," Murphy gestured. "Violet City is prosperous, but how many farmers must labor in the fields to maintain this prosperity? How many artisans must work in their workshops? What kind of tools are they using?"

"How much cloth can a loom weave in a day? How much iron can a blast furnace smelt in one go? These things determine how many people this land can support, the size of the army it can maintain, the grandeur of the buildings it can construct, and how much is left for everyone..."

"Whether noble, merchant, artisan, or farmer—how much surplus is left to be distributed."

Hearing this, the Count’s breathing grew slightly faster.

Murphy said, "In the Monte Territory, it’s not just because I set fair prices or established channels for appeals. It’s because, for over thirty years, I have introduced hardier seeds, promoted more effective crop rotation and fertilization methods, and improved plows and harvesting tools."

"I built water-powered mills and trip-hammers, doubling the efficiency of flour and ironware production. I organized artisans to develop better weaving and dyeing techniques..."

"All of this has allowed the same plot of land, with the same number of people, to produce several times more than they could in the past."

"When there’s more water in the bucket, even if the proportions of distribution don’t change radically, what each person receives naturally increases."

"And in this process, what the Lord receives is also far more than what was gained through oppressive levies in the past—and it’s more stable."

"So, Count, the real key to a better life for more people—including the farmers you care about—perhaps lies not in dreaming up a perfect system of distribution, but in finding ways to make the ’production’ bucket bigger and deeper."

"This requires new knowledge, new technology, and new ways of organizing production. It is far more practical than appealing to the charity of nobles or fantasizing about a return to some nebulous, divinely-inspired golden age."

As his voice faded, a complete silence fell over the living room.

Count Raymond sat rigidly in his chair as if struck by lightning, his expression shifting erratically.

He stared blankly at Murphy, at this calm-faced Northern Lord in his wheelchair.

Aurora picked up the teapot and refilled her own cup and Murphy’s with hot water.

Wisps of steam rose, momentarily blurring the different expressions on everyone’s faces.

Eleanor, however, lowered her head, a faint light glinting in her dark eyes.

Into this renewed silence, Murphy’s voice rang out once more:

"Of course, Count, besides trying to make the bucket bigger so that everyone can benefit from the growth—this, ah, constructive path—there is always another, more ancient and direct option in this world."

"And that is plunder. Instead of thinking about how to create more, one focuses on how to snatch the water from other people’s buckets and put it into one’s own—or into the buckets of the group one believes deserves more."

"Plunder?" Count Raymond repeated instinctively, his brow knitted with a mixture of confusion and vague unease. "My Lord, are you referring to war? We are lords, not the Field Sect or the Brotherhood of Equality. If we were to engage in plunder, it would be a struggle for territory between nobles..."

Murphy shook his head. "Not necessarily a war of swords and open flame, although that is its most extreme form. It can also be ideological, a war of beliefs. Using a highly inflammatory and subversive doctrine to redefine ’ownership’ and ’what is deserved,’ repackaging ’seizure’ as a ’return to fairness,’ or even as ’fulfilling God’s will.’"

"For example, Count, you are in the South and are reasonably well-informed. Have you ever heard of a school of thought within the Church Court that has risen in the Rotalia Empire in recent years?"

"They preach a rather unique doctrine: that all things in this world—sunlight, rain, land, and even a person’s own labor—are gifts bestowed equally upon all believers by Oriane. Therefore, the extreme inequality of wealth and land in the mortal world is not the result of personal diligence or fate, but a distortion and betrayal of God’s will. Believers ought to ’correct’ this distortion and return God’s grace to a state of ’equality.’" 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Count Raymond sucked in a sharp breath, his face instantly turning pale.

"The... the Equalist Sect?" His voice trembled uncontrollably, filled with horror. "I... I have heard of them! Some scattered rumors... merchants from the Empire occasionally mention them in hushed tones, saying that secret gatherings promoting this dangerous ideology have appeared in certain Imperial provinces, especially in some towns and villages in the Eastern Region and the north! But... but how is that possible? This is absolute Heresy! A complete refutation of the sacred right to private property and the existing social order! This... isn’t this incredibly dangerous? The Emperor of the Empire and the Church Court, surely they wouldn’t..."

"It is dangerous," Murphy cut through his shocked, rambling words. "Extremely dangerous. Because they don’t just stop at preaching. They claim that true believers have a duty to take action, to ’reclaim’ what was ’stolen’ from God. Their methods range from instigating rent and tax resistance to organizing believers to ’share’ the granaries of the wealthy. Some rumors even speak of... violent acts against ’unrepentant thieves’—that is, wealthy landowners, merchants, and even low-ranking nobles."

With every sentence Murphy spoke, Count Raymond’s face grew a shade paler.

He could tell that Murphy was not exaggerating, but stating a terrifying fact that was currently unfolding.

Murphy continued, "The Imperial authorities and the local Church Court are trying to suppress them, but their doctrine spreads like wildfire, especially in years of poor harvests, plagues, or exceptionally heavy taxes. It spreads fastest among the hopeless poor and bankrupt artisans."

"They have a simple and highly inflammatory logic: God loves all people and bestowed equality; the current situation is unjust, therefore the current situation is sinful. This strikes at the heart far more directly than any complex discourse on ancient virtues or ideal villages—especially the hearts of the desperate."

"What do you think would happen if your blueprint for reform—based on a lord’s responsibility, ancient covenants, and moral persuasion—were to encounter a doctrine that proclaims ’all that exists is unjust, only by tearing it all down can Divine Grace be revealed’? Which would prove stronger? In the ears of those who are on the brink of starvation, would they listen to your patient explanations of tax rates and review committees, or would they be more easily ignited by the slogan ’reclaim what God has given, and share in the equal Celestial Kingdom’?"

Count Raymond’s lips trembled. "But... but this is Heresy! The Church Court will never stand by and watch! Neither will the Empire!"

Murphy’s tone was completely unruffled. "The Church Court is already taking action, and the Empire is also suppressing them."

"But the Equalist Sect is like a fog in a swamp; suppress it in one place, and it rises in another. Moreover, their doctrine is evolving, becoming more covert and more organized."

"They are even beginning to develop their own ’Apostles’ and commentaries on the ’Holy Scripture.’ In the Rotalia Empire, especially in the northern provinces still suffering from the aftereffects of the Deep Red Tide, their influence can no longer be underestimated."

"If that is the case, I ask you, Lord Raymond, what will you do then?"