Looking at Fernand's demeanor, Muria was certain that the chaos within the Kingdom of As was, at least in part, his father's doing. Muria suspected Fernand wasn't the only schemer behind this turmoil.
After all, Gai was merely a vassal state of As. Given the disparity in power and resources, no matter how ambitious and strategic Fernand might be, he lacked the foundation to act alone. Over decades of careful planning, Fernand had succeeded in creating disorder in As, but only enough to destabilize its foundation, not overthrow it.
This chaos, however, presented a golden opportunity for the smaller nations surrounding As. The ensuing disarray would allow them to chip away at the dominant power of the Ymir Plains, gradually expanding their territories and influence.
The seven evenly matched heirs to As' throne were likely handpicked by Fernand and other ambitious conspirators to fracture the country. Once the old king passed away, the seven "outstanding" successors would tear the nation apart in their struggle for power.
It was clear that these heirs weren't all as exceptional as they appeared. Some likely had flaws deliberately overlooked by their manipulators. Even the brighter ones must have realized they were being used to weaken their homeland.
But what could they do about it? The lure of power was irresistible, and the consequences of failure in a power struggle were too dire to contemplate. Even if they knew their actions would plunge their nation into ruin, they couldn't afford to stop.
"After me, the flood can come." Such was the thinking of most people. For some, even if they could see the long-term ramifications, the pressing need to secure their immediate future was all that mattered.
"Arnold, your role now is to fulfill our duty as a vassal state," Fernand said as he laid out his decades-long plans to Muria. "Among these seven heirs, whenever one seems to falter, you must gather resources and support them."
Muria nodded silently. If the old king of As were still alive and learned of Fernand's schemes, he would undoubtedly shed tears—tears of rage. Then, he would marshal the full force of his armies to crush Gai, capturing Fernand to carve out his treacherous heart and confirm if it had truly turned pitch black.
"I see what you're trying to do," Muria said, frowning. "But given your plan, five years isn't enough to accomplish anything substantial."
Fernand had earlier claimed he intended to hand over a more prosperous and expansive Gai to Muria within five years. But considering the current state of affairs, Muria saw no way that timeline could work.
"I was prepared to use the most aggressive means to achieve the greatest gains in the shortest time," Fernand admitted. "But now, with you succeeding me, there's no need for such haste. You can afford to adopt a more cautious approach—time is on your side."
"Indeed," Muria said thoughtfully. "Given the current chaos across the Ymir Plains, diving in too soon won't guarantee us any gains. Worse, we might get dragged down ourselves."
"So, once you ascend the throne, what's your plan?" Fernand asked, studying his son intently. This was a test, and Fernand was eager to hear Muria's answer.
Muria raised his gaze to meet Fernand's, sensing the challenge in his father's eyes. Calmly, he revealed his intentions: "Reform."
"Reform?" The smile on Fernand's face froze. He had anticipated many responses, but not this one.
"What kind of reform?" Though disappointed, Fernand held back his objections, motioning for Muria to elaborate.
"Reforms in politics, economics, and the military," Muria replied, his tone steady and unwavering.
"Explain in detail." Fernand frowned, signaling for Muria to continue.
"In politics: strengthen the royal court's control over the regions, abolish hereditary privileges, reform the household registration system, and tighten governance over the populace with strict laws," Muria began, his words shocking even himself with their boldness.
"Wait!" Fernand's forehead veins bulged as he interrupted. His eyes turned bloodshot as he stared at Muria. "Do you understand what you're saying?"
"I'm describing my goals for the reforms. That's just the political aspect," Muria said evenly, as if oblivious to Fernand's growing fury.
"It sounds like you're not talking about reform, but describing how to destroy Gai from within," Fernand snapped, glaring at his son.
"If I succeed, Gai won't just become the strongest nation on the Ymir Plains—it'll be the only nation," Muria declared confidently.
"But that assumes you succeed. If you fail, Gai will collapse into chaos."
"That won't happen," Muria countered firmly, meeting Fernand's gaze with unshakeable confidence. "Because I will succeed."
"And what gives you such confidence?"
"Overwhelming strength." Muria extended his hand, and black-and-red flames danced in his palm. Behind him, the menacing silhouette of a demonic god began to take shape, exuding an oppressive, tyrannical aura.
"Even if you have such power, that doesn't mean you can rule a nation," Fernand said after a long pause, sighing deeply as he looked at the fearsome projection behind Muria.
"I can," Muria replied simply.
"You want to reform the system, and I won't stop you. Or rather, now that you've set your mind to it, my objections wouldn't matter," Fernand said with a bitter smile, his stern demeanor softening.
"I don't oppose strengthening the royal court's authority, reforming the household system, or enforcing stricter laws," Fernand continued. "But why abolish hereditary privileges? Don't you realize that the nobility is the backbone of Gai?"
"You're mistaken. The nobility has never been the backbone of Gai. The commoners are," Muria countered. "For our nation to truly prosper, we must abolish hereditary privileges. The current nobility is decadent and incapable of keeping up with my vision."
"Then how do you propose to preserve stability?"
"If they want to maintain their positions, they must send their heirs to the battlefield. Only through military merit can they safeguard their status," Muria declared boldly.
"Do you realize that without the nobility, Gai wouldn't even exist? They're the pillars supporting this kingdom. Abolishing their privileges would push them into rebellion," Fernand warned.
"Rebellion?" Muria sneered. "Under my rule, Gai will become the strongest nation. Where would they flee? As for rebellion, I'll crush them."
"Why this fixation on curbing the nobility?" Fernand asked, struggling to understand Muria's perspective.
"I'm not suppressing the nobility—I'm suppressing the inept ones. The capable will retain their status through military merit," Muria explained. "In the future, Gai's foundation will be built on martial achievements.
"No matter their background, even commoners can rise to prominence through military success. A nation built on meritocracy will thrive."
Muria's words left Fernand momentarily speechless.
"You intend to award titles based on military merit?" Fernand finally asked, his expression complex. He understood the implications of such a system: it would attract countless talented yet unaffiliated warriors.
"Yes," Muria confirmed. "Even the lowest-ranking soldier can earn rewards, land, wealth, or noble titles by slaying enemies. On the battlefield, anyone who fights for me and sheds blood can achieve anything they desire."
This wasn't an original idea but one inspired by the wisdom of ancient rulers in Muria's previous life. The "farming and war" system was the fastest way for a small, weak nation to rise in power.
It turned every soldier into a wolf or tiger, driven not by patriotism but by sheer self-interest. The promise of tangible rewards—land, gold, and titles—motivated even the humblest peasant to fight ferociously.
"..." Fernand closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before reopening them.
If Muria succeeded in implementing his reforms, Gai would become a ravenous beast, consuming everything within its reach until there was nothing left.
Fernand could already see it: a kingdom that knew no restraint, driven by hunger, expanding endlessly... a kingdom destined to rewrite history.
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