Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 457 - 456: This Is Not a Negotiation

Gawain sat at the head of the conference table, relaxing his body as he leaned against the high chairback, smiling as he observed the expressions changing on the faces of each southern aristocrat present.

Everyone’s reactions were in full view, and none of them were beyond his expectation.

Confusion, astonishment, silence, resistance, a hint of contemplation, and a few with explicit anger.

These aristocrats themselves were actually of little use; their rule had already collapsed. After losing their land and armies, these nobles who stepped out of their castles became entirely useless. Keeping them in prison would only consume food, and sending them to work wouldn’t create much wealth either. Moreover, Gawain didn’t believe that simple labor and education reforms could bring any fundamental change to these stubborn and dull individuals. Therefore, he didn’t care about their attitudes or their personal wishes.

But the "added value" of these aristocrats besides themselves was useful.

To establish a new order within a rigid and outdated old order, the greatest challenge and the most significant issue for a pioneer is the stubbornness and backlash of the old order.

Getting the grassroots people to change customs is difficult, but in this near-medieval social context, the populace is numb and without freedom. At most, they may appear slow in responding to orders due to their ignorance, yet they would never refuse a leader’s command. Therefore, changing customs and promoting education, though challenging, is more about time costs. In comparison, the "system" left behind by the old nobles poses the greatest difficulty.

The "scholar groups" and "retainers" born from the aristocratic system, those employed by old nobles, or those who are simply the illegitimate offspring or adopted children of old nobles, forming out-of-law mercenaries (legitimate Transcendent bandits), along with Exiled Knights and Oathbreaker Knights who left after the collapse of old nobles, are groups destined to be affected or already impacted in the transition between the new and old orders. These groups that refuse to cooperate pose the greatest obstacle during social transformation, and some have even become violent factors directly threatening territorial security.

Gawain knew he was fortunate. Compared to many pioneers attempting to establish a new order, his greatest advantage was that he was not only the founder of a new order but also represented the highest authority of the old order—as one of the founding fathers of the Anzu Kingdom, he had ample "legal righteousness" to set the principles of societal operation. Even if someone questioned this, he need not care.

Given this understanding, he would of course maximize his "legal righteousness." He intended to strip away and transfer the old nobles’ rights using legitimate means, to complete the transition of the system using the "legal claims" of these old nobles, to minimize the backlash of the old order—or rather, to reduce their excuses for a backlash.

Gawain could disdain the rules and order of the old aristocratic system, but since people of this era recognized it, he could use these rules and order without pressure, as long as they proved valuable.

"Ladies and gentlemen, these documents aren’t so hard to understand, are they?" Gawain estimated the timing as he saw some nobles couldn’t hold back from speaking, breaking the silence, "If you’ve understood, then sign them."

"Duke... my lord," a slightly plump middle-aged man finally couldn’t hold back and stood up first, "The content of these documents... are you serious?"

"Of course," Gawain nodded, "Why not?"

Then he slowly stood up, his eyes scanning each person’s face leisurely and said, "...Apart from retaining your castles, all land and property attached to the land shall belong to the duchy; all old-system privileges including taxation, legislation, and recruitment shall be abolished, with all power returning to the Administrative Office; unifying laws, abrogating all privately enacted old-system laws... I’ve made this very clear."

"My lord, we are willing to swear allegiance to you, but can’t we negotiate these things... it’s almost a total overthrow of the order, even for the sake of your authority, you should think more..." Another noble courageously stood up.

They at least learned to respect and be humble, but they evidently hadn’t figured out the situation.

"I think you’ve misunderstood something," Gawain’s expression hardly changed, merely stating facts quietly, "The things written in these documents are actually already being implemented. On the very day the war ended, you lost your lands and properties. The things you want to retain are no longer in your hands — so I’m not here to negotiate with you today, I’m just formally notifying you."

The southern aristocrats in the hall stirred. Several days of imprisonment hadn’t completely erased their thoughts, so when those thoughts collapsed, even with guards surrounding the hall and the ruler of the southern borders seated before them, they couldn’t help but start whispering.

However, Gawain just watched quietly, waiting for their discussions to quiet down.

When they finally quieted down, Gawain continued: "Sometimes, recognizing reality is more important than striving for things you’ll never get. Signing this document, you can at least live with dignity, your ’noble’ titles will remain, you can sustain a worry-free life on an annuity, even maintain a relatively prosperous lifestyle — if you could open your eyes to see those starving and cold citizens under your rule, you’d understand how fortunate you are. You’ve committed grave mistakes, yet remain so comfortable and at ease, what more is there to be dissatisfied with?"

On both sides of the long table, everyone’s faces turned tangled and uneasy, some frowning in thought, some hesitant to speak. Eventually, someone couldn’t control themselves, a sallow-faced, sunken-eyed middle-aged man stood up: "Forgive me, I can’t accept this — my lord, forgive me, I can’t accept it! I refuse to sign, even at the cost of my life — you can’t destroy our traditions and laws like this!"

As he spoke, the middle-aged man glanced beside him, his emotions appearing very agitated: "Gentlemen, we have already endured the hardest days, there is nothing more to lose, honor is all we have left. I... I would rather take it to the grave with me..."

Gawain watched the middle-aged man’s outburst, and the reactions of the nobles on both sides of the long table as they listened to these words. This was also within his expectations: Nobles have a peculiar way of thinking. They might scurry for cover when cannonballs fall, might surrender castles and people without hesitation when swords are at their throats, but sometimes when it comes to so-called "glorious bloodlines and surnames," these spineless characters actually puff their chests. This schizoid-like behavior is incomprehensible to outsiders but fits well with the era’s backdrop.

"Wayne Snape, I hope I haven’t called your name wrong."

Gawain abruptly interrupted the passionate speech of the middle-aged man, and the nobles who had started to stir once more fell silent, all eyes turning towards Gawain. He then gestured to the side — an Administrative Office official immediately left the room, returning to the hall moments later, carrying a small metal security box in his hands.

Gawain opened the security box and took out an ancient document — written on enchanted parchment, even though it was a transcribed version, it had a history of hundreds of years. Without the protection of magical power, it would have long decayed beyond readability.

As Gawain opened the document, he casually said: "Viscount, does this look familiar? I believe you all have similar items stored in the deepest parts of your castles, to prove the legitimacy of your titles and fiefs, the antiquity, and orthodoxy of your surnames — like this one.

"Wayne Snape, Snape Family, Viscount, southern aristocrat, branched from the Spence Family in Year 476 of the Anzu calendar and gained the surname; Spence Family, Earl, nobility of the Plains of the Holy Spirits, founded by the ancestor Maximilian Spence; Maximilian Spence, knight lord, Earl, knight of Gawain Cecil, granted title in the harvest month of the first year of Anzu, original fief located west of Grey Mountain on the southern borders, later relocated to the southern part of the Plains of the Holy Spirits due to the chaotic wave impact..."

"And then, there is another document," Gawain spoke as he took out yet another, even older, more fragile parchment from the security box, a document so ancient that the protective magic on it was about to lose its effect, with the old parchment severely weathered and corroded, "Maximilian Spence’s conferring document — of course, a copy."

Gawain lifted his head, quietly watching the middle-aged noble across the long table in the eye.

"Mr. Wayne Snape, can you guess whose signature is at the end of this document?"

No one could have foreseen such an incredible situation in advance, even though Gawain had been resurrected for such a long time, the nobleman named Wayne Snape did not associate the document hidden deep within the family’s castle, only glanced at upon the heir gaining title, with the "living person" before him. This has nothing to do with wisdom but is a limitation of thought direction, so now he could only stammer: "The duke... the duke..."

"Mr. Wayne Snape, you demand tradition and law, so I give you tradition and law — Maximilian Spence was a clever and motivated young man, and I regret to see one of his heirs incapable of upholding his honor and deeds — protecting the honor of followers is a master’s duty, and for this, I must revoke your noble title."

Wayne Snape widened his eyes, like a suffocating fish gasping for air, and in this strike to the weak point, he dizzily heard Gawain Cecil’s following words: "... Mr. Snape, you may leave now."

The hall became deathly silent; Gawain contentedly viewed the result — targeting the problem is always the most efficient solution, exploiting the nobles’ greatest weakness was far more effective than any argument or debate.

For them, being stripped of their title was more terrifying than death.

Of course, he could do this because he first mastered overwhelming force, using it to compel these people to sit at the negotiation table, otherwise even if he held the conferral documents of every noble in the kingdom, his words wouldn’t matter.

"Gentlemen, I do not wish to do this," after tidying up the documents, Gawain slightly raised his voice, "I prefer that everyone signs in a cooperative and harmonious atmosphere, so I must emphasize — every one of your titles and surnames, after tracing back several generations, ultimately falls under the names of Charlie Moen and the four dukes. As the sole surviving founding king and duke among the four, I have the authority to revoke any of your noble titles. Even if the conferral documents of your ancestors don’t bear my signature, I am the witness of that conferral ceremony seven hundred years ago, and as a witness, I can challenge whether any of you have inherited your surname rightfully—"

Gawain did not finish the sentence, but his meaning was already clear:

He could challenge the compliance of every title here, and should anyone wish to object... unless Charlie Moen and the other three founding dukes crawled out of their graves.

The southern aristocrats desired tradition and law, didn’t they?

This is the tradition and law of Anzu.

"Time is about up — ladies and gentlemen, the pens for signing are before you."