59: Chapter 59 The Empire's Jackals Smell the Blood of Gold Coins

A steady sound of footsteps came from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.

Levi had walked onto the terrace at some point, standing beside her, carrying a trace of indoor warmth and a faint scholarly scent.

He didn't look at the still-celebrating crowd below; the fervent scene that would have stirred any lord's heart seemed to him not worth a glance.

His gaze calmly cast towards the distant, hazy horizon, in the direction of the Radiant Empire's capital.

"Cheers are cheap, Your Highness," Levi's voice was not loud, but it clearly overshadowed the din from the square. "When they discover that tomorrow's bread won't appear automatically because of today's cheers, this enthusiasm will quickly cool."

Ella said nothing, merely resting her cold fingers on the equally cold stone railing.

The chill at her fingertips made her chaotic thoughts slightly clearer.

Levi took a thin parchment scroll from his Huai and handed it over.

The edges of the paper were a bit rough, clearly intelligence just taken from a secret message tube.

"You should see this."

Ella took it hesitantly and unrolled it.

By the dim light of the sky, she could make out the contents.

It was not a matter of military or national importance, but a background investigation of a person, detailed to an infuriating degree.

Target Person: Sir Greg, Special Commissioner directly under the Radiant Empire's Central Bank.

His resume was filled with his 'glorious deeds': three years ago, the Iron Ore Lords in the western border of the Empire collectively fell into a debt crisis due to a plummeting ore price. It was he who, representing the Central Bank, 'kindly' acquired over 60% of the western mines' ownership at less than 20% of the market price.

Five years ago, a plague suddenly broke out in the southern commercial hub, Purple Thorn City, bringing its economy to a halt. Again, it was he who entered with the royal family's 'relief funds,' yet ultimately led to more than half of Purple Thorn City's core businesses and tax channels being silently mortgaged to the Imperial Bank.

Every record on it was like the elegant trajectory of a vulture circling a corpse.

He never created crises; he merely, after a crisis occurred, used the most legal means and the gentlest posture to devour all the dying prey, skin and bone.

Ella's breathing became somewhat rapid.

She had only been angry before that her father was using her as a pawn, but now, as she saw this resume and connected Sir Greg's modus operandi with the Empire's acquisition of subscription vouchers, a colder, larger conspiracy slowly emerged in her mind.

Levi seemed to read her thoughts, speaking in a flat, factual tone: "He's not a speculator, Ella. Speculators bet on rises and falls, but he... he's only responsible for cleaning up the corpses of the inevitable winners or losers after the gamble is over. Whether it's me or Augustus lying on the floor today, Sir Greg will appear on time. That 10% of subscription vouchers in his hand is his entry ticket to the table. The Imperial Bank will become the largest creditor of either of us, and then, under the guise of 'maintaining financial stability,' will legally and lawfully take over the entire Northern grain trade chain. From beginning to end, your father's goal was not my small Blackstone Territory, but the entire economic lifeline of the North."

With a soft clink, the silver pendant in Ella's hand slipped, hitting the hard stone bricks.

She, however, was completely unaware.

A bone-chilling cold rushed from the soles of her feet straight to the top of her head, stiffening her entire body.

So that's how it was...

So from the very beginning, she, Levi, and even the self-important Augustus, were merely chess pieces of different colors on the board.

And the player, her lofty father, didn't care which side would win.

Because no matter the outcome, the banker was always the ultimate winner.

She felt an uncontrollable wave of nausea and dizziness.

It was a physiological revulsion arising from being completely objectified and used by the person closest to her.

She had always thought she came to this barbaric land for the glory of her family, but she never expected that from the moment she stepped onto this land, she had become the meat bone that invited wolves into the house.

Levi silently watched her pale profile, watching the last shred of imperial belonging being completely stripped away and shattered from her azure eyes.

He offered no comfort, just waited quietly.

He needed Ella to complete this transformation herself.

After a long while, Ella took a deep breath of the cold air. The chill stung her lungs, but it also made her completely calm down.

She bent down, picked up the pendant, now stained with dust, and rehung it around her neck.

But this time, its meaning was completely different.

She turned around, looking at Levi directly for the first time with an entirely equal gaze, free of any identity prejudice.

"What do you want me to do?" Her voice was still hoarse, but it carried a hint of undeniable resolve. "What do we... need to do?"

"Good," Levi's lips finally curved into a satisfied smile. "First, in your capacity as Princess of the Radiant Empire, formally summon Sir Greg. The meeting will be in the reception hall of Blackstone Castle. I want him to understand that he is not facing a country lord from a remote territory, but a legitimate political entity backed by the Imperial Royal Family."

He took a step forward, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

"Remember, Ella. From the moment you walk into that reception hall, you are no longer an observer, no longer a pawn of the Empire. You are a co-lord of Blackstone Territory, the sole royalty representing our common interests at this negotiation table. Every expression, every word of yours, will determine whether we become a financial colony of the Empire, or... an opponent they must treat as equals."

Ella's heart skipped a beat.

Co-lord...

This term, like a bolt of lightning, cut through all her confusion and chaos, illuminating a new path, full of thorns and unknowns.

She looked into Levi's unfathomably deep black eyes and nodded vigorously.

"I understand."

An hour later, in Blackstone Castle's most luxurious reception hall, the fire in the fireplace burned brightly, dispelling the chill from the room.

Sir Greg was a middle-aged man, appearing around forty, dressed in a well-tailored black suit, his hair neatly combed, and a polite smile on his face. His gray eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses, however, were as sharp as a hawk's, missing no detail in the room.

He first performed an impeccable noble bow to Princess Ella, who was seated at the head, then turned to Levi, his smile widening a few degrees, appearing both enthusiastic and sincere.

"Lord Levi, please allow me, on behalf of the Radiant Empire's Central Bank, to extend my most sincere congratulations on the astonishing wisdom and courage you displayed during this grain crisis. You not only defended the honor of Blackstone Territory but also single-handedly stabilized the grain market of the entire Northern region. This is truly a remarkable achievement."

These words were flawless, as if the Imperial Bank had always been a benevolent institution concerned with the welfare of the Northern people.

Levi returned a gentle smile, as if catching up with an old friend he hadn't seen in years: "Sir, you flatter me. I merely did my duty; it's just that the bank's friends had to trouble themselves over the farce in our small place."

The two exchanged a few unspoken pleasantries, and Sir Greg finally put down his teacup. The cup clinked against the saucer, a clear, crisp sound that also signaled the formal commencement of negotiations.

"Lord Levi is a straightforward man, so I won't beat around the bush either." Sir Greg took out a neat stack of grain subscription vouchers from his leather bag and gently placed them on the table. "The bank 'accidentally' acquired these during this crisis. The total amount isn't large, only 10% of the total market circulation. Now that the crisis has subsided, we naturally need to discuss the redemption issue."

Ella sat at the head of the table, her fingers nervously curled on the armrest, but her face maintained the imperial composure and indifference Levi had taught her.

Levi leaned slightly forward, appearing to listen attentively: "Of course, credibility is the foundation of Blackstone Territory. How does Sir wish to redeem them? Equivalent snow potato, or the refined white flour 'donated' to us by Count Augustus?"

"Hehehe..." Sir Greg let out a low chuckle, pushing his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose, the lenses reflecting the firelight from the fireplace. "Lord, you jest. The bank has no use for those grains. What we value more is you, and the boundless future of Blackstone Territory."

He finally revealed his fangs.

"The bank doesn't demand grain redemption, nor gold coins. We hope to convert these subscription vouchers into something more valuable." He paused, stating each word clearly, "We demand to exchange these bonds for 30% 'priority equity' in 'all future commercial projects of Blackstone Territory'."

The air instantly solidified.

Ella's pupils sharply contracted.

30% priority equity!

This wasn't an investment; this was parasitism!

This meant that no matter what business Blackstone Territory undertook in the future, whether mining, manufacturing, or trade, the Imperial Bank could leisurely take nearly a third of the profits, and with priority dividends!

They intended to use an initial investment of less than one hundred thousand gold coins to obtain the right to permanently drain the entire Blackstone Territory's future!

Levi's smile didn't change at all; it even became more gentle.

He picked up his teacup and took a light sip, seemingly savoring the tea's aroma, or perhaps savoring the other party's undisguised greed.

"A very imaginative proposal, Sir," he said softly, putting down the teacup. "However, I refuse."

Sir Greg's eyebrows twitched slightly, clearly not expecting such a straightforward refusal.

"Oh? Does Lord not think that with the Imperial Bank as your backing, your commercial empire would develop more smoothly?" A subtle pressure entered his tone.

"I think our definitions of 'backing' might be somewhat different." Levi leaned back in his chair, hands clasped in front of him, appearing utterly relaxed. "However, I also believe these bonds can be converted into something more valuable. So I can also offer Sir and the bank behind you an option, a gambling agreement."

"A gambling agreement?" Gregg became interested.

"Yes." Levi extended three fingers. "Option one, I can repurchase all these subscription vouchers immediately, right now, for three times their face value in gold coins. I think for a successful speculation, a threefold profit is already quite generous."

Sir Greg's smile faded.

Three times the gold coins?

They wanted the goose that laid golden eggs, not just a few golden eggs.

"Then, what about option two?"

"Option two, the Imperial Bank can use these bonds as the first 'angel investment' to join a brand new project we are about to establish." He deliberately slowed his speech, ensuring every word clearly reached the other party's ears. "This project, I call it—'Blackstone Territory Minting and Bank Supervision Committee'."

"Bank?" Sir Greg's body instantly straightened, his gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses becoming extremely wary.

This term, in this world, had only one interpretation: the Empire's Central Bank.

A frontier lord, daring to speak presumptuously of establishing a 'bank'?

Levi seemed not to notice his sudden change in expression, continuing to smile as he elaborated on his grand blueprint: "Yes, a bank. Augustus's collapse proved one thing: the Northern grain trade needs a more stable and reliable credit system. We will use the grain reserves currently owned by Blackstone Territory, and all future produce from Augustus's industries, as the credit foundation to issue a new type of 'Blackstone Territory Credit Voucher,' strictly linked to grain reserves. This credit voucher will be freely circulated, exchanged, and even used as a commercial settlement proof throughout the entire North. And you, as 'angel investors,' can obtain 10% of the dry shares in this committee and appoint a supervisor to ensure our grain reserves are real and effective."

The reception hall was dead silent, with only the crackling of burning wood in the fireplace.

A thin sheen of cold sweat seeped from Sir Greg's forehead.

He finally understood what kind of madman he was facing.

Challenging the Empire's monetary hegemony!

He actually wanted to use grain as an anchor to establish a new monetary system, independent of the Imperial gold coins, in this economic desert of the North!

This was no longer a commercial act; this was digging at the Empire's very foundations!

This was a naked political declaration!

Sir Greg found his throat somewhat dry.

The gravity of this matter had far exceeded the scope of what a special commissioner like him could decide.

He slowly stood up and adjusted his collar, trying to regain his composure, but his slightly trembling fingertips betrayed him.

"Lord Levi, your vision... is truly... astonishing." He squeezed out the words with difficulty. "I cannot decide on this matter. I must immediately return to the Imperial Capital and personally report to His Majesty the Emperor."

He picked up the subscription vouchers from the table and gave Levi a deep look, his eyes extremely complex, containing shock, apprehension, and a hint of hidden killing intent.

"Then, we await your good news." Levi smiled, stood up, and made a 'please' gesture.

Sir Greg said nothing, hastily bowed to Princess Ella, then turned and quickly departed, his retreating figure appearing somewhat flustered.

When his figure completely disappeared down the corridor, Ella finally slumped back in her chair, letting out a long sigh of relief.

That silent confrontation just now made her feel more exhausted than commanding a battle of a thousand armies.

"Did we... succeed?" she murmured.

"No." Levi walked to the window, watching Sir Greg's carriage quickly disappear, crushing the snow under the escort of guards.

"This is just the beginning." His voice echoed in the quiet reception hall, carrying a hint of icy chill. "We merely personally handed him a bomb inscribed with a 'declaration of war'."

He turned around, his black eyes gleaming with a crazy and excited light in the glow of the fireplace.

"The jackals of the Empire have been scared away for now, but soon, the lions, smelling blood, will personally enter the fray."

Levi's gaze swept over Ella, then seemed to penetrate the castle walls, seeing Evelyn, Old Jack, Mia, and others busy at their respective posts.

His voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable resolve.

"The mode of warfare is about to change."