"Phew."
I stretched out with a long yawn. The cool dawn breeze cleansed my lungs.
A sense of accomplishment swelled in my chest. Dozens of sheets of paper lay in my hands. I had spent the entire night completing a scenario for how to navigate the Frank Empire's civil war.
It could be called the magnum opus of my life. Civil war and revolution—these were never simple affairs. They required extremely delicate mechanisms. I assembled these mechanisms into three major parts.
The first mechanism. It was a manuscript of roughly fifteen pages. I gave it the title "For the Eternal State." The manuscript began with the following passage:
—No matter how dear the price, I must shatter and destroy this falsehood that binds me. I must speak the whole truth to all people and act upon it accordingly. This is the mission bestowed upon every rational being.
The document was written in Old Imperial.
The pamphlets I planned to distribute were never meant for the common folk. What they needed was not plausible logic but intense emotion. On the other hand, to persuade the educated among the nobility—young scholars—I needed the mask called logic.
Educated people were no different, really. They too ultimately acted on emotion. Their so-called "boiling point" was simply higher than that of commoners. Logic was merely a device to help the so-called educated boil over more easily.
—The peasants are enslaved to the nobility. Sometimes they are enslaved to great landowners. We know this, and we cannot possibly be ignorant of it. For our income depends upon that very system of slavery, and we ourselves cooperate with it. Moreover, we even know that it is unjust and cruel……
—When young, who has never sworn that "if I inherit a title, I will distribute land to the peasants"? Why does one nurture pride at dawn only to resign oneself again by evening? The cause lies in our lifestyle. As we squander some three hundred livres a year, we once again feel the need to cooperate with the system of slavery.
—To lay bare the lives of us noble ones: we do not live as we think, but merely think as we live. We have completely lost control over our own lives.
—Who does not recognize this as a staggering paradox? Until now, slavery was thought to subjugate the common masses for the benefit of the nobility alone. In truth, it was the opposite. Rather, the nobility themselves were enslaved by the system, unable to steer their own lives in the direction they deemed right.
—Today, the concern that "the dignity and standards of our ruling class are deteriorating by the day" is often voiced. The cause of this phenomenon is none other than that paradox of slavery—the paradox whereby the master becomes enslaved to the slave……
"Ha! What fine prose."
Reviewing the manuscript to this point, I couldn't help but admire it. It was brilliant writing.
This was no academic treatise. At its core, it was essentially a speech. A speech is the art of persuasion, and as such, one must thoroughly understand what the audience wants and what they value. The audience for this manuscript was young nobility.
Young nobles were bastards who would die for the sake of honor.
They feared becoming slaves above all else. They firmly believed they were forging their own lives. But they knew it too. There was no such thing as freedom in the life of a noble either.
If you were born as the firstborn, you must inherit the succession without question. If the sovereign wages war, you must answer the levy without question. If you were born as a second or third son, at best you wander about as a second-rate knight. All manner of obligations cling to them like barnacles. I am striking at precisely this nerve.
— The gods commanded us: become masters of the land. And so we tilled the earth for thousands of years. But looking back now, we did not become masters of the land — we merely sank into slavery to it. All of this is the result of turning away from what we knew to be right.
— We held countless discussions at academies and government institutions about why farmers are impoverished, what policies are needed to improve their lives. But on the one method that would truly and uniquely advance the lives of farmers — that is, on ceasing to seize the very land farmers desperately need from them — we remained silent.
First, acknowledge the pride of the nobility. Then, criticize why they abandon that pride of their own accord. Next, present concrete alternatives for how to reclaim it. The crucial thing here is that the tone must always read as though one is sermonizing.
Rebuke them boldly. Yet plant the illusion that they can be righteous if they choose. Sting their pride. Incite them to action. Set their emotions ablaze. — These lines, written in the ancient imperial tongue, were — to say it once more — demagogic slogans dressed up with plausible logic as seasoning.
I wager there will be nobles who fall for this.
Finally.
— Land cannot be an object of private ownership.
— It cannot be an object of trade, any more than water, air, or sunlight.
— All human beings have equal rights with respect to land and to every benefit that land provides to humanity.
State these declarations in an assertive tone, as though speaking self-evident truths. As though they are the logical conclusions drawn from everything said before. In this way, people will accept sentences that are nothing but demagogic slogans as a rational conclusion.
Of course, there will be those who do not fall for it.
'That's why I added a few more tools.'
I kept reviewing the manuscript with a grin on my face. Strangely, there were no typos at all. Since falling into this world, I had never made a single spelling mistake. It seemed some kind of power had been added to my linguistic abilities, but either way, it was a welcome thing.
— The income generated from land is shared equally among all. Farmers therefore receive their land, pay rent under a collective agreement, and that rent is contributed to a common fund. This common fund is, of course, used for the benefit of the farmers themselves.
— The rent is determined by the farmers' self-governing body, the People's Assembly.
That's right. I'm putting forward concrete proposals.
But I'm no political expert. How could I propose detailed policies? So I use impressive proper nouns — 'collective agreement,' 'common fund,' 'self-governing body,' 'People's Assembly.'
It makes it look as though something of great consequence is being discussed.
Proper nouns, you see, have a way of intimidating people. It's the same as rephrasing the sentence 'Life is fundamentally screwed' as 'Life is fundamentally absurd' — suddenly it sounds like a profound truth has been uttered. Nobility loves that kind of rhetoric. The younger the noble, the more so.
First, I'd stimulate the nobles' pride, then disguise what were mere slogans as logical conclusions, and dress up the steps needed to realize those conclusions in reality with impressive proper nouns. By that point, a good number of nobles would have been persuaded.
As the final uppercut.
— Yes. Every problem that occurs in our lives — we can neither grasp its meaning nor understand it. Why do my relatives still live? Why was a man named Hans born? Why did I do such a terrible thing? Why does someone die while I remain alive? Why did I turn away from the truth?
— To understand all of this — that is, to comprehend the gods' destiny and providence — is utterly beyond my power. But to carry out the gods' will as it is inscribed upon my conscience, that is possible. We know this.
— And so, the more one ponders and ponders again, the more something approaches our hearts with ever-fresh and ever-greater astonishment and reverence: it is the starlit sky above me and the conscience within me. We see and feel them with our own eyes, and from the place where I now stand, we advance beyond worlds that stretch into infinite vastness, toward the true will of the gods……
"Sesibong! Sesibong!"
Before I knew it, I had become a French gentleman and exclaimed in admiration. This was the literary talent that would have catapulted one to stardom had one been born in Paris, the city of art.
The finale, of course, was religion and morality. Everyone has a fanatical side when it comes to religion and morality. No matter how cynical a person may be, once the fire of moral conscience is lit, they can't help but blaze. I'd spoken in a logical tone the whole way, only to end on a moral note — heh.
"I can't help but marvel at my own talent……."
Surrounded by emotion, I gazed up at the sky for a moment. I could still see the darkness of dawn fleeing in panic behind the mountain range, startled by my talent. So. I had finally made even the heavens tremble in fear…… What talent…… What genius…… Sometimes I frighten myself…….
I reviewed the first manuscript in its entirety.
I'd have it printed as a booklet and distributed to every noble. Royalists and republicans alike.
The manuscript also included content about the nobility temporarily overseeing the Assembly's common fund — in other words, I'd carved out a comfortable seat for the nobles too. Several royalist nobles burning with a sense of chivalry would find it quite tempting.
"Heh heh heh."
Humming a little tune, I picked up another stack of paper.
The second device I'd prepared for the civil war and revolution. This, too, was a manuscript — merely a lightly adapted version of the speech I'd given at the Bruno Plains. It argued that every last noble ought to be killed without exception. I'd have this printed as a booklet as well, and distributed to the nobles.
Only, to the republicans.
"Best to plant the seeds of division in advance."
If, heaven forbid, the people unified under the banner of republicanism, that would be a problem.
If a kingdom became a republic, national power would invariably surge upward. That was how it had gone in the France of the original world — the people themselves rose up in revolution.
Soldiers who rose up voluntarily to defend their country, and soldiers who were forcibly conscripted to protect the emperor. Which side would be stronger was self-evident.
That would be a problem.
Even if republicanism triumphed, humanity had to remain divided. After all that effort spent tearing down the empire, what if an even more powerful republic emerged next? It would be no laughing matter.
He would need to steer things so that multiple factions formed even under republicanism. Radicals versus moderates, whether to exterminate the aristocracy entirely or show mercy, an aristocratic republic versus a democratic republic — split a single faction into ten thousand ideologies and set them fighting each other.
I smiled.
"All I ask is that you fight each other over ideology for just about four hundred years."
Longer than four hundred years would be even better.
Well, whichever side won, the rights of common people would increase. The humans of this continent ought to be grateful to me. I was simply advancing the revolution that would inevitably occur someday on their behalf. And wasn't I even pre-selecting factions for them! They ought to erect a statue of Saint Dantalion in the city square.
That was the second mechanism.
While the previous mechanisms had targeted the aristocracy and the educated, the final third mechanism was aimed squarely at the common people. This was not a speech. It was even less an academic treatise.
It was nothing more than a song.
From Crécy to the Hundred Years' War,
Poitiers and Agincourt!
The hills of swords stained with tears and blood,
We crossed on nothing but our bare feet.
Forward, sons and daughters of the motherland!
Cry out with burning thirst,
The moment of glory has arrived!
From the Red Fortress to the plains of Ulm,
Boetia and Minuil!
Ringing across the hills and valleys,
Hear the hellish roar of the enemy host!
Raise the war banners stained with blood!
Raise the war banners stained with blood!
The enemy approaches to sever
the heads of our wives and lovers!
Grasp spear and blade, citizens!
Lead your companies forth!
O Goddess, save us from every hill and valley!
O Goddess, now grant us permission to sing of justice!
Upon our homeland's parched furrows,
let the enemy's filthy blood overflow!
"Something like this should get the job done, more or less."
I grinned. A revolutionary, I was. I didn't know exactly how to compose the song, but I would commission it through the Kunkuska Trading Company and entrust it to the greatest composer in the Demon Realm. I could only hope that my human revolutionary comrades would be satisfied with this modest gift of mine.