Ficool

Chapter 89 - 85) The Speech Starts

(A/N: WTF is consistency đŸ„łđŸ„łđŸ„łđŸ„łđŸ„ł)

...

{3rd Person POV}

The streets were bustling with people. A large crowd had gathered in front of the city mansion, where a temporary podium had been set up for Emilia to deliver her long-awaited speech.

Her announcement had stirred interest across the city, and due to her direct orders, a significant number of citizens had come to witness what was expected to be a pivotal moment.

The atmosphere was filled with anticipation, curiosity, and a hint of tension.

Inside the city mansion, Emilia stood behind a large window, nervously peeking through the glass at the crowd gathered outside.

Her hands lightly trembled, and her lips were pressed together in thought.

"Are you nervous?" Reina asked, standing beside her. She watched Emilia with a calm expression.

Emilia nodded slowly, not breaking her gaze from the window. "I am... I'm a silver-haired half-elf, Reina. No matter how much effort I put in, no matter how genuine I try to be, people will always look at me with suspicion... with fear. I don't blame them. It's just how things are."

Reina didn't respond immediately. She waited a few seconds before speaking again. "Would that stop you?"

This time, Emilia turned to face her. She smiled faintly, although her eyes were still clouded with emotion.

"I've been given so much support—more than I ever thought I deserved. Sometimes, I genuinely wonder if I'm even worthy of it all. I have Zero, and all of you backing me up. Father Geuse has returned, and I still hold on to the hope that Puck will come back to my side soon."

She paused for a moment and looked down at her clenched hands.

"That's why... I won't let fear control me anymore. Zero told me it's okay to be scared... 'but what's not okay is refusing to take that first step against fear.'"

Her tone became firmer as she puffed her cheeks and balled her fists with determination.

"That's why I'm going to do this! No matter how hard it is or how nervous I feel, I will stand in front of everyone and speak for what I believe in!" she declared, her eyes now lit with unwavering resolve.

Reina looked at her, satisfied. She had been concerned for a while now. If Emilia, despite having all the support, opportunities, and blessings she had, remained timid and self-doubting, Reina would have felt deeply disappointed.

But now, witnessing this spark of courage, she felt reassured.

"It seems you're ready to go," Reina said with a small nod of approval. "Lady Emilia, the speech will begin in five minutes."

"I understand," Emilia replied, turning her attention to the papers laid out on the large desk behind her.

The documents were more than just a speech. They contained detailed outlines of policy changes, plans for reform, and key talking points. Most of these initiatives had been crafted by Zero, carefully tailored to bring actual change to the territory.

This wasn't just a speech—it was the official beginning of Emilia's journey toward the throne.

She was starting, truly, from zero.

...

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Subaru was wrapping up his covert operation.

In a single day he had meticulously mapped out all the hotspots where illegal activities were taking place. His findings were disturbing but not entirely unexpected.

Among the most urgent issues were two locations where slaves were being kept—locked in cages, chained, and hidden away from public view.

According to Subaru's intel, the slave traders were planning to smuggle these captives out of the city at the exact time of Emilia's speech.

It was a calculated move—most of the city's guards and citizens would be attending the speech, making it the perfect time to slip away unnoticed with such a large, illegal cargo.

But that wasn't all.

Several wealthy merchants who lived in the city were preparing to manipulate the situation for their gain.

They intended to embezzle significant amounts of money and discreetly move it out of the city during the distraction caused by the public gathering.

Unlike honest farmers who paid their taxes dutifully and had no real means to escape scrutiny, cunning merchants often found loopholes to exploit the system and dodge taxes without raising suspicion.

And then there were the nobles.

Always careful to protect their wealth, some of the local nobles were planning to transfer their fortunes to neighboring cities.

By doing so, they hoped to avoid being caught in Emilia's upcoming audit. Many of them had been avoiding taxes for years, hiding behind legal ambiguity and corrupt officials.

Subaru had to admit, their plan was smart. It might have worked too—if it weren't for him and his team of spirits.

In this world, taxation was brutal.

A standard tax rate for peasants was usually around 50%, although that number varied depending on the region. In more isolated and less connected areas like this one, the tax rate could soar to 70%, leaving common people with barely enough to survive day-to-day life.

The breakdown of tax allocation was complex and layered.

Of the total collected tax, 25% went to the Royal Treasury, and another 25% went to the ruling lord of the area. But things weren't that straightforward.

Local governance often consisted of a hierarchy of smaller noble families under the direct authority of a single high-ranking lord.

In this case, Roswaal received about 12.5% of the taxes, specifically from the cut given to the nobles under him. That number didn't even include whatever income the nobles generated through private business ventures or illegal dealings, it showed how easily Roswaal got wealth.

But in reality, the tax system was far more chaotic than it looked on paper.

A significant portion of the Royal Treasury's share was embezzled before it ever made it to the capital.

Local nobles imposed higher-than-standard taxes, exploiting the ignorance or helplessness of the common folk.

That's why Emilia's proposed tax relief policy was expected to cause a major shift in the region's economic balance. For many citizens, it would be the first genuine sign of change.

Subaru had already issued instructions.

He had ordered Gloria to specifically handle the nobles trying to transfer their funds and assets out of the city. She would intercept them and held them for investigation and possibly execution.

As for the merchants, Subaru had assigned that task to Beatrice, who would be accompanied by Agni. They were responsible for tracking and stopping any embezzlement attempts during the chaos.

Everything was in place.

The plan was set.

Now, it was up to Emilia to take the stage.

From here on, her real journey would begin—from zero, toward the throne.

He, meanwhile, had decided to personally handle the slave traders himself.

Unlike the nobles or merchants, the situation with the captives was far more delicate. Many of them were likely to be emotionally and physically traumatized.

It wasn't something just anyone could handle appropriately. Subaru knew his spirits—while incredibly powerful—lacked the emotional sensitivity required for situations like these.

Comforting and helping the victims process their experiences was something that couldn't be left to raw magical force or blunt strategy.

'This is something I can't push onto others,' Subaru thought grimly. 'These people need someone who understands pain... someone who can reach out and speak to them as a human being, not just a liberator.'

Everyone else had taken their assigned positions. The web of coordination that had been spun over the last day was now in motion. Each part moving like clockwork. It was time.

...

It was finally time for the speech to begin.

Emilia stood firmly on the raised podium, looking out over the sea of people in front of her. The entire central square was packed. It wasn't just a few curious onlookers or nobles pretending to care—it was a massive turnout.

Easily over seventy percent of the city's population had gathered, spilling out from the main square and into adjoining streets. This level of public interest was unprecedented, especially for this city, where such gatherings were rare.

The sight would have overwhelmed anyone else. Emilia herself, despite her mental preparation, felt her heart beating faster.

She took a deep breath and approached the Voice-Enhancing Metia, a magical device that would project her voice throughout the entire area. Her steps were steady, though her fingers slightly trembled as they hovered near the device's activation crystal.

She stood in front of it, closed her eyes briefly, then opened them with clarity. With one last breath, she began.

"Firstly, I would like to greet everyone gathered here today," Emilia said clearly, her voice projecting perfectly across the crowd with the help of the Metia. The tone was calm and respectful, but held a quiet strength.

"To see so many of you standing here is a very pleasant sight. I understand some of you might be wondering—why have you all been called here today?"

As she spoke, the large crowd, which had previously been murmuring and whispering among themselves, began to quiet down.

The change was almost immediate.

The atmosphere shifted from one of idle curiosity to one of attentive silence.

Emilia exhaled quietly, a small breath of relief escaping her lips. 'It's working. They're listening... They're actually listening.'

There were still skeptical expressions scattered throughout the crowd. Some people crossed their arms. Others stared with wary eyes. But no one was yelling. No one was turning their back on her.

That, in itself, was a victory.

"Traditionally, any new laws or announcements made by the local Lords have always been displayed on the city's bulletin boards," she continued, her tone growing slightly firmer, more official.

"But today is different. Today, I stand here to directly introduce a number of reforms and to announce several new policies that will affect not only the present but the future of this city."

She glanced at the papers briefly, then continued.

"Some of you may know me by name. Some of you may only know rumors. But I will formally introduce myself now—I am Emilia, one of the five Royal Candidates, and one of the individuals who may very well become your future Queen."

That line caused a ripple across the audience. Murmurs returned, spreading like a wave. People exchanged glances. There was tension, yes—but also intrigue. This was the first time she had publicly claimed her position with confidence.

"Today," she said louder, her voice rising above the murmurs, "I am not only standing before you as a Royal Candidate. I am also here as a representative bearing the authority granted to me by your former Lord, Margrave Roswaal, and your newly appointed Lord, Marquis Zero."

The effect was immediate. The weight of her words settled over the crowd. The authority she invoked wasn't symbolic—it was real, and the people understood that now.

'They needed to hear that. They needed to know this isn't just talk—I have real backing. Real power.'

She paused for a moment, then addressed the most sensitive point.

"I understand that many of you are hesitant—apprehensive—about who I am. I know it hasn't escaped your notice that I am a silver-haired half-elf."

That sentence caused a few audible gasps. Even though everyone already knew, there was something about hearing it spoken out loud, directly from her, that struck differently. Emilia didn't flinch.

"Yes, I am a half-elf," she continued, her tone unwavering. "And yes, I am aware of the history and fear that comes with that identity. I'm not ignorant of it. I won't pretend it doesn't exist."

There was a pause. She let her words sink in.

"But I also believe that people are more than the circumstances of their birth. More than what they look like. More than what others expect—or fear—them to be."

She looked out over the crowd. There were still guarded expressions, but fewer now. Some eyes had softened. Some heads nodded, even if subtly.

"I didn't come here today to ask for your immediate trust. Trust is something earned through actions, not words. But I am asking for a chance to prove myself—to prove that I care, that I understand your struggles, and that I am ready to act in your interest."

She took another breath, steadier than before.

"And starting today, with the policies I am about to announce, I hope to take the first step toward building that trust."

Behind the scenes, Reina watched from the sidelines. She didn't show it outwardly, but a sense of pride quietly swelled in her chest.

'My Lord's teaching made this useless half-elf finally into something useful'

"But I hope you are all willing to give me a chance—to prove that I am worthy of becoming your queen. That my words are not just grand speeches, but a reflection of the actions I will take," Emilia said, her voice steady yet full of emotion.

She didn't raise her voice, but her conviction echoed across the square, carried by the Voice-Enhancing Metia. The people listened. Some leaned in; others folded their arms, still uncertain—but they listened.

"Lord Roswaal of House Mathers, the newly ascended Marquis, Lord Zero... the man known as the hero who banished the White Whale and the Great Rabbit, the one who defeated the Sin Archbishops of Sloth, Greed, and Lust—and beside me now stands Lady Reina, the current Sword Saint."

The weight of those names caused another ripple through the crowd. Murmurs returned, a few gasps audible even from the podium.

"All of these powerful and respected individuals have chosen to support me. They have placed their trust in me. And now, I intend to put that support to proper use—by implementing meaningful, concrete changes in your lives," Emilia declared, taking a deep breath as she scanned the sea of faces before her.

Some people were whispering among themselves, exchanging cautious glances. Others seemed genuinely impressed, watching her with open curiosity.

Of course, many still looked skeptical, their arms crossed and their expressions guarded. But none had turned away, and no one was walking out.

That was good enough for now.

"Please, everyone, may I have your attention," Reina called out from the side of the podium. Her voice was calm but carried an air of command.

"Lady Emilia will now begin announcing the proposed policies and reforms. I ask that everyone remain silent and attentive during the announcements. A few among the crowd will be given an opportunity to ask questions after the initial declarations."

Her words silenced the murmuring in the crowd almost instantly.

Emilia gave her a quick nod of appreciation, then turned back toward the people.

"First major policy," she began, her voice rising again in strength and clarity, "from this day forward, the overall tax rate will be reduced to thirty percent!"

The crowd went still for a second, stunned into silence. Then came a storm of murmurs and exclamations.

"Thirty percent?"

"That can't be right—did she say thirty?"

"She must have misspoken!"

The disbelief in their voices was as clear as the midday sun.

To say the people were shocked would be a gross understatement. Most of them had lived their entire lives under a crushing tax rate that hovered around seventy percent. The very idea of it being slashed to less than half—down to thirty—was unimaginable.

They weren't cheering. Not yet. They were processing. Trying to believe.

A man near the front of the crowd suddenly raised his hand high and called out, "Please—everyone! Be silent for a moment!"

The people around him looked at him and slowly quieted down. He was a known figure in the city—althought not respected, he was well connected with everyone often helping new people to settle in the city.

Once it was quiet enough, he looked at Emilia.

Emilia nodded, acknowledging him. "Yes, you may speak," she said with calm authority.

He cleared his throat. "Miss Emilia... if I may be so bold—am I to understand this correctly? Is it truly... true?"

He glanced over his shoulder at the nobles who had come to observe the speech. Their reactions ranged from stone-faced disbelief to barely restrained fury.

"Yes," Emilia said, her tone unwavering, "it is true. If any noble present here—or elsewhere—attempts to collect more tax than they are legally allowed under this new law, then every citizen is fully empowered to file a complaint directly in the name of Lord Roswaal or Marquis Zero."

She paused for emphasis before continuing. "You may also send a written letter to us personally. If we find even the slightest hint of corruption or overreach, it will be addressed—and corrected—without delay."

Smiles began to appear on the faces of many. There was still hesitation, but hope had entered their expressions. Meanwhile, the attending minor nobles gritted their teeth, their discomfort clearly visible.

It was a brilliant political move.

By giving commoners the ability to directly report abuse, Emilia and her allies had created a system of accountability that the nobles couldn't easily suppress.

Nobles couldn't monitor or intercept every letter going in or out of the city. And even if they tried, there were too many variables—messengers, merchants, travelers.

'They can't seal off the city without drawing attention. If they try to block communication, it won't be long before word spreads to neighboring towns—and once that happens, Zero will be at their throats,' Emilia thought. 'They're trapped now, whether they realize it or not.'

It was checkmate. Clean, effective, and non-violent. A well-placed sword of policy, aimed right at the heart of noble corruption.

Emilia had studied Subaru's strategic outline carefully. She had spent countless hours reviewing the materials, understanding each layer. But during her review, she had noticed one gap.

'What if people lie? What if some citizens abuse the open-reporting system and flood us with false complaints?'

She had brought that concern directly to Subaru. To her surprise, he hadn't dismissed it. In fact, he had praised her for her observation.

He had said, 'You're absolutely right to think of that, Emilia. But at this stage, trust is more important than precision. If we put too many conditions on their freedom to report things, they might be too afraid to speak up at all. Until we earn the people's complete trust, we have to give them that leeway—even if it means dealing with a few false reports.'

That conversation had stuck with her. And now, seeing the crowd begin to rally behind her, she could already feel the results of that decision.

A chant slowly began to rise from the people. It started low but quickly gained volume and strength.

"Emilia! Emilia! Emilia!"

They weren't cheering just for her tax policy. They were cheering because someone had finally stood in front of them and listened. Someone who didn't just rule from a distance or hide behind servants and guards. Someone who stood on a platform and said, "I will help you, I will put my power to right use, I will trust you"

More than half the people had already accepted her in their hearts. The others—those who remained hesitant—were simply waiting for proof. Real, tangible results. Emilia knew that. And she was ready to deliver.

"Now," Emilia continued, her voice rising over the cheers, "I will announce the second major policy—one that focuses on employment for all."

The crowd began to quiet down again, eager to hear more.

"This initiative has two parts: the first is focused on providing employment opportunities to citizens without formal education. The second targets those with specific skills and education, offering stable and meaningful jobs."

There were nods from various parts of the crowd, especially from people who had struggled to find consistent work.

"In the past, street cleanliness and maintenance were handled informally by the community—or simply neglected. From now on, the city will officially hire street cleaners. These will be paid positions, and each cleaner will receive a monthly salary of three silver coins."

That drew renewed attention. Some people gasped. Others looked surprised, and a few exchanged hopeful glances.

"Priority will be given to those without any current source of income," Emilia added. "Even if three silver coins may not be enough to cover every need, it will be a steady source of income—especially for those who have had to rely on unpredictable seasonal work or odd jobs, or have no work at all."

For many, it wasn't just about the money. It was about dignity—being seen, being employed, being part of something larger than themselves.

"And finally," Emilia continued with firm resolve, "we will be establishing a new system—something called a 'school.'"

The crowd once again fell completely silent.

She was only getting started.

To be continued...

(A/N: Here is the deal, you give me over 300 powerstones, and I will give you bonus chap.

Even if we fail this quota by a slight number of PS, you will be given the chance whole week, and even if you fail everytime, I will still upload two bonus chaps by the end of the week.

But if you do not, I mean not even try, then no bonus chaps!

In simple words it is win-win deal, if you win you get double chaps everyday, if you fail you still get bonus chaps for trying!)

More Chapters