When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 732 - 688: Chappe’s Wailing

Standing in front of the expensive silver mirror produced from the white sand, Chappe trimmed his mustache with small scissors while silently listening to the servant reciting the letter sent from the Clove Corridor.

"...Therefore, the local governor hopes to end the war as soon as possible, while the Duke of Bodosa opposes it."

The young male servant with a bowl cut stood nervously beside, waiting for the response from the Minister of the Navy.

But Chappe simply continued trimming his mustache, saying nothing, until he put down the scissors and approached the table, where he casually asked, "What does Yuni (Yulery Lakin) say?"

"Lord Yulery says it can be accepted, but the share is too small, and he wonders if he can request a larger share."

"Of course, he can accept it." Chappe scoffed disdainfully through his nose, tossing the cease-fire agreement along with its backing paper onto the table with a crisp snap, "How could Lord Conrad have such a complacent son? Doesn't he know who's profiting from the spice trade?"

Even after Conrad Lakin, the leader of the old faction, failed in the political struggle, the old faction did not completely disappear from the court, but instead persisted tenaciously.

The fundamental reason is that the land nobility of the upper echelons of the old faction also dabbled in industry and commerce like the new nobility. Of course, they continued to promote agrarianism.

The new and old factions within the Falan Court are more like loose political alliances rather than strict doctrinal parties. A courtier switching sides frequently is quite common.

Their political stance cannot be inferred from their background; often, those political opinions are just pretenses for vying for power and profit, i.e., "I must oppose whatever you support."

One major source of income for the old faction is the spice and sugar trade from the Clove Corridor and Red Leaf Hill. Although the textile industry and other big and small businesses were taken by the new faction, these two industries are still firmly controlled by the old faction.

Otherwise, how could these two places monopolize spices and sugar? Do they genuinely think they can oppose the King with their abilities alone?

As a powerful noble of the Clove Corridor, Chappe could never relinquish this interest. He could relinquish the Falan Colony to the Norn Kingdom at will, but he truly has a spice guild!

"Then should I write a letter to the Duke of Bodosa asking him to continue recruiting troops?"

"After losing that battle, with nearly twenty thousand men slaughtered by eight thousand like dogs, he still wishes to recruit more?" Chappe's temples throbbed just thinking about it.

Sending out troops was originally his idea, meant to intimidate the new King, showing him the consequences of meddling with sugar and spices.

Now, ironically, he had become the one intimidated.

Where did this Saint's Son Horn gather so many elite infantry, almost matching the King's Guard? Could the two and a half years of the Thousand River Valley War have trained so many battle-hardened soldiers?

Could the short-haired thieves really have, as that Banifus said, trained elite soldiers by lurking in the Thousand River Valley for decades?

No wonder even Prince Kongdai, who once suppressed the Falan Knights, suffered a loss here.

Thinking about the Black Snake Bay incident, Chappe felt troubled, especially since the opposing side stood with the royal family.

"Then what should we do?" The servant scratched his head, "Should we call Valentine back from the Xilan Islands? He's the most skilled with the Deng Jia'er Array."

"What Array are you talking about? Didn't you see the battle report mentioning those magic catapults? Tsk, I'll go meet His Majesty later to clean up their mess." Straightening his collar with the help of a maid, Chappe moved his neck, "In the evening, help me contact Yulery and several other lords; we need to unify our stance on this matter, lest that young brat exploits a loophole."

"As you command, my lord."

Leaving the government mansion, Chappe passed through narrow alleyways and entered the Falan King's Palace through a cold, shadowy door arch.

He skillfully called a young male servant to take the horse away, then walked through the hallway he had traversed countless times, past the portraits of successive French Kings, bowing slightly. Behind the redwood door at the end of the hallway was the highest ruler of the Falan Kingdom—Charles VIII.

Following the herald's announcement, the enthusiastic voice of Charles VIII resonated: "Ah, it's Lord Chappe, please come in."

Once inside the study, Charles VIII picked up porcelain and poured a cup of fine red tea, enthusiastically handing it to Chappe: "I heard, Lord Chappe, that you recently built a new garden?"

"Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. I built a retirement residence at Golden Fleece Beach; it can't really be considered a garden, more like a yard." Chappe smiled as he accepted the porcelain cup.

"Have you heard about the clearing war in the Clove Corridor and Black Snake Bay?" Charles VIII, known for valuing efficiency, got straight to the point after a brief pleasantry.

Of course, Chappe was well aware of His Majesty the King's character: "The nobles of the Clove Corridor, witnessing Black Snake Bay aiding the Thousand River Valley rebels in expelling the Church, were enraged, hence the early initiation of the clearing war."

"I've heard that the armies of the Thousand River Valley use a special catapult that can launch iron balls five miles?"

"Hahaha, Your Majesty, these soldiers, they just love to exaggerate. From what I see, it's impressive enough if it shoots seven or eight hundred paces." Chappe naturally laughed it off.

Holding a bone china teacup, Charles VIII nodded thoughtfully while absentmindedly sipping his tea.

After about three minutes, when Chappe was almost lost in thought, the king spoke again in a faint tone, "How many rune artisans are left in the Clove Corridor?"

The so-called rune artisans were actually a cover for the alchemists, essentially a guise to conceal the nobility's covert control of the local secret faction and wizards.

The nobility claimed they would not coexist with the wizards, but in reality, those in the know were well aware.

Even Barnett knew how to secretly rear magical creatures for huge profits; surely these more extravagant Falan nobility weren't ignorant?

Like spices, they didn't inherently have such high value. The real worth lay in overtly blocking and suppressing business, thereby gaining enormous secret profits.

There was even a time when some southern nobles, seemingly testing the waters, tried to use the guise of the rune artisans to distance themselves from the alchemists.

Unfortunately, just as hints began to appear, they were quashed by Pope Johnny VIII of that time.

Coincidentally, among the junior generals advocating for the legalization of rune artisans back then was the then fifteen-year-old Prime Minister Lorenzo.

"What are you standing there for? Speak." Charles VIII's previously friendly tone revealed a trace of impatience.

Although not understanding why the king asked this question, Chappe mumbled uncertainly, "There should be about 1,000 of them, I guess."

"Bring them over." Rubbing the acne on his face, Charles VIII decisively said, "I won't pursue your unauthorized warfare that caused suffering to my knights this time."

"Bring them over? Your Highness, do you mean to bring all those alchemists to Huaqiu City?"

"What else?" Charles VIII coldly replied, as if talking about someone else, "You've been manipulating the spice trade for so many years, do you think I don't know, or do you think no one has objections?"

Suddenly, Chappe felt countless thorns rising from the velvet cushion, making him uneasy: "This war... but we... it's a cleansing war..."

"Who said it was a cleansing war?" Charles VIII smirked, "Grandiva didn't receive any notice from you."

Chappe's hairs stood on end, and he could only force a smile, trying to argue, "The opportunity for attack is fleeting, our messenger might not have arrived yet, maybe in a few days they'll get the notice…"

"Is the garden at home well?" Charles VIII interrupted again, bringing up the previous topic.

Initially puzzled by Charles VIII's intentions, this time Chappe finally realized, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, only after a long while did he mutter, "No, Your Highness, you can't do this... I've bled for the royal family, I've made contributions to the Empire..."

"You can choose, shall I announce it or will you announce it?" Charles VIII coldly stared at him, entirely devoid of the warmth he'd shown when Chappe first entered.

As a nail from the Clove Corridor in the court and an effective enforcer for the old faction, there's no way he wouldn't be driven out amid this spice war turmoil.

Once this nail is gone, although the Clove Corridor won't be completely in the dark regarding the court, it won't be as well-informed as before.

This news was like a thunderbolt, leaving Chappe speechless.

Knowing that at least half of the Clove Corridor's forces were stationed in Black Snake Bay, if Charles VIII was truly determined to act at this time, the Clove Corridor would have little resistance.

Even though he didn't favor the new faction as political adversaries, Chappe had to admit their trained Royal Cavalry had much better combat skills than those country knights.

Curling up in the chair, Chappe struggled for a long time before forcing a grim smile onto his mournful face, "It's been a long time since my garden was tended; please allow me to take leave and go home to repair the garden where I'll retire."

"You are a loyal and good minister, and I will not forget your contributions." Charles VIII immediately stood up, "What you're owed, you'll receive in full."

After Chappe closed the study door, Charles VIII immediately heard the sound of a heavy object falling and servants exclaiming.

Carrying his teacup to the window, watching as servants carried Chappe running towards the court physician's residence, Charles VIII murmured to himself, "Horn, oh Horn, you never cease to surprise me every day."