Chapter 322: The Tax Investigation Case

The Military Affairs Enforcement Division of the Central Government Office does not halt investigations merely because an initial squad of knights was wiped out. Instead, they dispatch a second knight order to continue the investigation while also probing into the details of the previous squad's demise.

Thanks to Earl Bretagne’s warning, Charlot Mecklenburg had prepared himself in advance.

Several days later, the second investigation began.

This time, the officer leading the knight order from the Enforcement Division was indeed impartial. After conducting a thorough investigation, he found no evidence that Charlot had harbored injured soldiers from the Black Phoenix Army. He wrote an honest report and submitted it to his superiors.

Once this group of knights departed, Charlot believed the matter was settled and finally allowed himself to relax...

But unexpectedly, a third knight order from the Enforcement Division arrived shortly thereafter.

This time, their mission was to investigate taxation in the South Seraph District.

And this was truly troublesome.

To make matters worse, the leader of the investigation was none other than Alence Cook!

Alence Cook, a 26th Rank Level 4 Quartermaster of the Central Government’s Logistics Division, held a rank just one level below Charlot. He had been temporarily reassigned to the Enforcement Division under the seemingly reasonable pretext of his expertise in taxation.

Alence Cook did not immediately confront Charlot. Instead, he toured the South Seraph District, quickly amassing substantial first-hand evidence. The report he compiled clearly stated that Charlot had not levied taxes in the district at all.

And he submitted this damning report directly to Earl Bretagne.

Charlot hadn’t anticipated that this matter would escalate further!

Yannick Oulei’s methods had been crude and reckless.

But this—this was the handiwork of a true high noble. It wouldn’t provoke rebellion, but it would cause maximum discomfort.

Charlot had no choice but to visit Earl Bretagne and explain the taxation issues to Alence Cook in person.

In the dark luxury of Earl Bretagne’s residence, Charlot met his “rival.”

Heaven bear witness: Charlot had done nothing to Miss Sophia Gallanord, nor had he harbored any lingering thoughts about her. In fact, he had nearly forgotten the Rose of Strasbourg entirely.

Of course, in Earl Bretagne’s presence, it was essential to forget all other women.

That was basic etiquette.

Alence Cook was a strikingly handsome man with refined manners. Charlot hadn’t expected such a polished appearance from someone with such a sinister heart.

Alence Cook pulled out a notebook and said calmly, “Charlot Mecklenburg, the evidence is conclusive that you have not levied taxes in the South Seraph District. However, I would still like to hear your explanation.”

He bowed slightly to Earl Bretagne and added, “This is also at the Earl’s behest.”

Charlot silently cursed, Nonsense! Since when does Earl Bretagne care about such trifles?

Suppressing his anger, Charlot replied, “The South Seraph District is not my fief. I neither have the obligation nor the authority to levy taxes there.”

Alence Cook smiled faintly and countered, “But you are the Administrative Officer of Arcadia Port, Sedona City, Solvan City, Carmel Town, and Interlaken. In the absence of the territorial nobles, you are duty-bound to levy taxes on their behalf as well as for the Empire.”

“While the other areas may not fall under your jurisdiction, how do you explain the lack of taxation in these five cities?”

“And from the records, it seems you were absent from the South Seraph District for a period. Please explain that as well.”

Earl Bretagne’s expression remained unchanged, a faint smile playing on his lips. He refrained from intervening, leaving Charlot to guess at his thoughts. Left with no other option, Charlot patiently explained, “The South Seraph District has been ravaged by war. The population has drastically declined, making taxation impossible. In many cities, I couldn’t even find residents to tax—just empty houses. No one knows if the inhabitants fled or perished in the chaos.”

Charlot, having been a mathematics teacher, was well-versed in statistics. He promptly cited examples from the five cities, explaining, “Sedona City currently has fewer than a thousand residents. Interlaken has a mere three. How do you expect me to levy taxes there?”

Unperturbed, Alence Cook retorted, “Those cities may have suffered due to the war, but Arcadia Port has remained untouched. This port city has a population of over sixty thousand, yet it hasn’t contributed a single coin in taxes.”

Creative accounting? That’s my specialty! Charlot thought to himself.

He quickly fabricated a series of figures, saying, “Indeed, Arcadia Port was not directly affected by the war, and its economy has remained stable. However, the South Seraph District has endured three major campaigns. During Duke Joseph’s campaign alone, Arcadia Port provided war supplies worth tens of thousands of écus.”

“During the First Bretagne Offensive, enormous quantities of supplies were requisitioned from Arcadia Port as well!”

“Between these two campaigns, over 300 battles were fought. The casualties among the Fars Empire’s soldiers exceeded sixty thousand. The civilian population in the South Seraph District suffered a loss of 45%, and property damage was incalculable. Supplies requisitioned from Arcadia Port during this time were enormous. According to imperial law, territories engaged in war are exempt from taxation for at least fifteen years.”

“As for the Second Bretagne Offensive...”

The First Bretagne Offensive had been named after Clair Bretagne, but this second campaign was associated with Earl Bretagne himself and had since been referred to as the Second Bretagne Offensive.

Charlot adopted a sorrowful tone and said, “Let us not even discuss the losses among ordinary soldiers and civilians—we even lost a Saint.”

Indeed, only one Saint had fallen.

It was Krenlof Bohr.

His rank had been exceptionally high, and his death had sent shockwaves through the royal family and numerous nobles. This was what had compelled Earl Bretagne to travel to the South Seraph District in the first place.

Veins bulged on Alence Cook’s handsome face. He hadn’t anticipated that Charlot would be so slippery, conjuring data with ease and citing examples with practiced finesse.

Charlot Mecklenburg, once a chief clerk in the Central Government Office, was well-acquainted with bureaucracy and regulations, handling the situation with remarkable poise.

The two debated fiercely before Earl Bretagne, exchanging verbal blows for an entire day without resolution.

Though Charlot was a mid-level Transcendent, the mental exhaustion from this confrontation was unbearable.

Suddenly, Alence Cook slammed his hands on the small table in the carriage, shouting, “Do you think I won’t investigate your tax records in Behemoth?”

Charlot took a deep breath. The thought of killing this man had already crossed his mind. Though his tenure in the South Seraph District had been brief and limited to five cities, Behemoth was his homeland. The mischief he had stirred in Silver Dove Castle and Mostar Castle would not withstand such scrutiny.

Finally, Earl Bretagne, who had remained silent until now, smiled faintly and said, “Allow me to make a suggestion.”

Alence Cook immediately replied, “I am at the Earl’s disposal.”

Earl Bretagne smiled and said, “It’s merely a suggestion, not a command.”

“Charlot, you will pay a fine of three thousand écus, and this matter will be considered resolved.”

Charlot agreed without hesitation. Though unpleasant, he would never openly defy Earl Bretagne. As for the three thousand écus? Charlot was determined that Alence Cook would live long enough to collect the money but not to report it.

Alence Cook sneered coldly and declared, “The Grand Duchess of Mostar has decreed that Charlot Mecklenburg be demoted two ranks, from 25th Rank Level 5 Quartermaster to 27th Rank Level 3 Quartermaster. He must also make up for the tax shortfall within a set period!”

“Additionally, he is to report to Strasbourg for his duties and temporarily relinquish command of the West Wind Knight Order.”

Earl Bretagne replied calmly, “Then we shall follow the Grand Duchess’s decree.”

Although his suggestion had been overruled, Earl Bretagne showed no sign of irritation. However, his gaze at Alence Cook now carried a hint of deadly intent.

Unknown to Alence Cook, Earl Bretagne had already reached a private agreement with the Grand Duchess. The fine of three thousand écus was meant to settle the matter amicably.

After all, the Grand Duchess intended to use this opportunity to undermine Menielman Soumet. The Soumet family was currently in decline, making this an ideal time to strike.

Meanwhile, Earl Bretagne was a key ally for the Grand Duchess. As the Fars Empire’s most powerful warrior and a feudal lord with a private knight order teeming with Transcendents, even the Emperor dared not antagonize him lightly.

Alence Cook’s recommendations, however, deviated entirely from the Grand Duchess’s original plan, making it clear that he had acted independently.

Confident in the Grand Duchess’s support, Alence Cook felt no fear toward Earl Bretagne, much less toward Charlot.

Charlot smiled faintly and replied, “I will abide by the Earl’s decision.”

Alence Cook felt he had won a great victory. With a faint smile, he said, “Then it’s settled!”

“As for the investigation on Behemoth, I suggest we put it aside for now. After all, we’re still at war, and we can’t afford to keep disrupting the front lines.”

There was a veiled threat in his words—the investigation on Behemoth would only be postponed, not abandoned.

Charlot Mecklenburg thought the matter had passed.

Then Alence Cook spoke again: “The taxation investigation might be over, but Mr. Mecklenburg, how do you explain your prolonged absence from South Seraph?”

Charlot replied gravely, “If I hadn’t been in South Seraph, would Chloe Hadrian have failed to fend off the Black Phoenix Army’s leader?”

“Use your brain!”

Alence Cook, clearly stung by the retort, shot back in frustration, “Don’t force me to reopen the taxation investigation. Just explain your whereabouts honestly.”

Charlot replied disdainfully, “I was right here in South Seraph.”

“Baseless accusations are meaningless. Don’t bring this up again.”

Charlot had complete confidence in his control over South Seraph and didn’t believe Alence Cook could produce any evidence against him.

Alence Cook glared at Charlot with a vicious expression. After a long silence, he asked, “One more thing—what happened to my friend Yannis Hadrian? How did he die?”

Charlot laughed angrily. “You’re asking me about this?”

“Why don’t you ask the intelligence officer at the front lines? He fell into a Black Phoenix ambush and was annihilated along with the Wormwood Knights. What do you want me to explain?”

“I’m on the front lines, not playing nanny!”

Alence Cook slammed both hands on the table and shouted, “I absolutely refuse to believe Yannis Hadrian would die in battle! He was a high-rank transcendent! Do you even understand what that means?”

“You merchant-born bastard!”

Charlot stood abruptly, ready to teach him a harsh lesson. Merchant-born bastard? He would make Alence Cook understand the principle of "resorting to fists before words."

Charlot was ready to beat him into submission.

When it came to physical combat, Charlot was unafraid of ordinary transcendents. Unless the opponent was saint rank, he had no reason to fear.

Alence Cook, unwilling to back down, retorted, “Do you really think winning a few battles by sheer luck makes you formidable?”

“I’ll show you that a merchant’s lapdog has no right to sit with the nobility!”

Count D’Artagnan gave a sharp reprimand: “Enough! Take it outside and duel.”

The two men immediately stormed out of the opulent setting of Dark Luxury, dispensing with formalities like issuing challenges.

Alence Cook, having come to pay respects to Count D’Artagnan, had not brought his weapon. Charlot, not wanting to use his Blood Rose, opted for bare fists as well, relying on his speed and agility.

Despite his arrogance, Alence Cook was skilled. It was evident he had trained extensively in unarmed combat, and perhaps that was why he had dared to pursue the renowned Rose of Strasbourg, Sophia Gallanord, known for her high standards.

Charlot relied on his Swiftstep Technique to exploit openings and landed several slaps across Alence Cook’s face. Yet, his opponent’s combat energy was so robust that he remained unscathed. Even Dark Corrosion failed to penetrate, leaving Alence Cook furious but unharmed, his reddened face betraying his humiliation.

Charlot realized he was at a disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat. His swordsmanship had been honed under Hughes, his marksmanship under Julian Arsilo, but he had no proper training in unarmed combat. Meanwhile, Alence Cook clearly excelled in this area, having devoted considerable effort to it.

Realizing the fight wouldn’t yield decisive results, Charlot retreated half a step, intending to provoke Alence Cook into allowing him to draw a weapon. Before he could act, Count D’Artagnan interjected, “That’s enough! This ends here.”

Charlot immediately ceased fighting.

Though Alence Cook was eager to continue, a glance at Count D’Artagnan forced him to abandon the idea. He left in frustration, returning to the Enforcement Corps’ camp. There, he drafted a letter and sent it back to Strasbourg.

Charlot had expected swift punishment, but instead, two weeks passed. While a few battles unfolded on the front lines, none involved him.

No punishment came. Strasbourg issued no response, not even mentioning the previously discussed fine of three thousand écus. Instead, a letter arrived announcing his promotion. Charlot was now a first-class councilor of the twenty-fourth rank.

The promotion didn’t alter his official position, but Charlot understood that Count D’Artagnan had intervened behind the scenes.

The machinations of such a high noble were as subtle as they were effective, avoiding open conflict entirely.

Along with the promotion, Charlot learned another piece of news: the stalemate in the battles between Ferranden and the South Seraph region had prompted plans to open a third front—this time at sea.

The main force for this campaign would be the Northern Fleet of the Duchess of Mostar.

Fars had also secured full support from the Ingrima Empire, which would provide ten alchemical warships and three hundred additional vessels to engage Byron in a decisive naval battle.

In terms of strength, the combined forces of Fars and Ingrima held a clear advantage. The Ingrima Empire, as an island nation, had long prioritized naval development, pouring resources into its fleet. By sheer naval power, its Royal Navy was indisputably the finest in both the New and Old Continents.

The second place had once been fleetingly held by the pirate coalition led by Zimourman Axel Robin, but now it belonged to the Fars Empire’s navy.

Byron, with its limited coastal ports, had always struggled to develop a strong navy. Even with support from the Black Phoenix Dynasty’s fleet, it remained far inferior to the allied navies of Fars and Ingrima.

Emperor Julius VI of Fars was determined to secure victory in this naval campaign, personally naming it the Victory Goddess Offensive.

The name reflected the fact that the empire’s two most powerful naval fleets were commanded by women.

When Charlot learned of this, his thoughts turned to Menielman Soumet. Yet he couldn’t leave. The second D’Artagnan Offensive had escalated into a far bloodier conflict than the first. Most cities in the South Seraph region were now desolate ruins.

As the saying goes, “White bones litter the fields; no roosters crow for miles.”

The devastation was so profound that Charlot often found himself contemplating renouncing the world. Of course, in this world, there was no such thing as Buddhism—only the faiths of the Nine True Gods.

If South Seraph was a meat grinder, it had consumed all living flesh in the region. There was nothing left for its insatiable maw.

The next day, Count D’Artagnan summoned Charlot, his expression grave.

“Our war with the Black Phoenix Dynasty has reached a point where neither side can sustain it any longer.”

“Unless Constantine and I duel, the situation won’t change.”

“But that’s impossible. If we fight, the war’s outcome will become entirely unpredictable.”

“Thus, the empire plans to divert forces to the navy, leveraging our superiority with Ingrima to annihilate Byron’s fleet.”

“This will shift the entire war.”

Charlot asked, “Are you sending me to the navy?”

Count D’Artagnan laughed. “How could that be? You’re part of the local forces. Even after transferring to the knights, you remain in the army. There’s no way you’d be reassigned to the navy.”

“Besides, you know nothing about seafaring or commanding ships. You’d only be a liability.”

“No, I’m saying that I’m leaving.”

“Constantine will leave as well.”

“The new commander of the South Seraph front is…”

The count paused, leaving the name unsaid.

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