Chapter 410: From Top to Bottom
Marcus revered Scholar Caleb.
He believed that Scholar Caleb had given a macro-level exposition of the source and structure of power, and that with this macro narrative in place, the power he himself sought now had something to cling to.
However, he also believed that Scholar Caleb’s perspective only stood at the angle of the “nation,” and not at the angle of the “individual.”
Therefore, in order to study things more thoroughly, he fought for the power he wanted.
But when Marcus truly arrived in this land, even he himself could no longer clearly distinguish whether he wanted to study power, or whether he wanted to possess power.
It was too captivating.
Nearly half of a principality’s land— and all he needed to do was move his mouth, and this land would change according to his will.
Only, the letter he received today brought him back to his senses.
That kind of absolutely enforced power existed only because he and the officials beneath him shared common interests.
But they were, in the end, individuals— and very greedy individuals at that.
Now, under the counterattack of the nobles, these greedy individuals were the first to awaken, realizing that their power came from top to bottom.
So they came to him.
Marcus looked at Cliff, once a first-batch apprentice of the monastery, now a Tier Three scholar of the Scholar’s Guild, and also his assistant.
He asked, “Then what do you think I should do about them?”
Cliff hesitated for a moment, then said, “Perhaps we could unite the officials and impose certain economic sanctions on those nobles.”
Marcus asked, “Why do you think so?”
Cliff said, “Those nobles have just finished spending their gold coins in York City. Once we block the tax revenues meant to supply them, given the rate at which those nobles spend money, they absolutely won’t last even half a month.”
Marcus asked, “Just for that reason?”
Cliff said, “Also because this is the only power we have.”
Marcus asked, “Then why do we have this power?”
Cliff froze for a moment, then said with sudden realization, “Because this is our task, and also the source of our power.”
Marcus shook his head and said, “No. Our power only comes from the demands of those above us. In fact, those above us want us to deal with these nobles in the first place. Making Greenwood more prosperous is merely proof that, aside from dealing with the nobles, we also have more important value.”
“Or rather, if we want us officials to be able to remain, then we must prove that even without the nobles, we officials can still maintain order, allow Greenwood to continue prospering, submit more taxes to the Senate and to the Kingdom, and prove that we are more useful than the nobles.”
Cliff frowned and said, “But precisely because of that, you cannot let those officials lose their morale. You must let them strike back at the nobles. Otherwise, once the morale of the officials below collapses, their actions will fall into chaos, and our task will be impossible to complete.”
“Only, if economic sanctions cannot be used, how should we strike back? Compared to those nobles who control armed forces, the force currently held by the officials is far too weak.”
Marcus said, “Foolish. I already said just now that our power is from top to bottom. Those officials think the same way, which is why they brought this news to me.”
“And in your opinion, if I want to fully implement this fundamental principle of top-down power, what should I do?”
Cliff’s brow furrowed even deeper. He said, “You mean… to report this matter to the Senate? But if we do that, won’t the councilors doubt our competence?”
Marcus laughed softly, pointed at the report on the table, and said, “Then do you think these officials didn’t worry that I would doubt their competence when they reported this matter to me?”
Cliff hesitated slightly. “This—”
Marcus did not let him think further and directly said, “Cliff, you must remember that among officials, ability is important, but what is more important is whether those above need you.”
“I still need them now, so even though they caused such trouble and made those nobles band together again, I will not punish them for it. On the contrary, I will protect them, because they are still useful.”
“And as for the councilors, as long as I am still useful, once I report this matter upward, the councilors will only think the same way we are now, and find ways to protect me.”
As for what would happen once he was no longer needed, Marcus did not say.
Only then did Cliff suddenly realize the truth and say, “So that’s how it is. This student understands.”
Marcus nodded. “Then you should now directly forward this report to the Senate.”
Cliff nodded in response, then took the report from the table and left.
After going out, he made several turns and entered a secret chamber.
He slightly nodded toward a certain corner, then placed the report onto a circular magic array.
The light on the array gradually brightened, as if stirred by a breeze, lifting a corner of the report and revealing a tightly attached inner layer.
That was Cliff’s own record.
As an apprentice of the Senate, with a dean like Oscar, how could he not be touched by magic at all?
And this kind of simple magic for recording conversational information was something he still knew how to use.
Watching the officials’ report, along with the conversation he recorded after leaving Marcus’s office, disappear together into the magic array, the tension in Cliff’s eyes finally eased somewhat.
He silently said in his heart, “Teacher Marcus, this is what you taught me— our officials’ power is from top to bottom.”
After being recalled from the Diocese of Rod by Marcus earlier this year, he had formally been taken in as Marcus’s student.
The term “student” was also something that appeared after the establishment of the Scholar’s Guild. In order to distinguish it from serial titles, those apprentices who inherited teachings were called students.
It was also because he had become Marcus’s student that Marcus could patiently converse with him.
This was also a form of instruction for students.
And clearly, Marcus’s instruction was, to a certain extent, very successful.
Cliff thirsted for power too much.
Back then, when the other apprentices all chose to return to York Territory, only he chose to remain in his original village.
This choice of his could be said to have been extremely correct.
Because those apprentices who returned were driven back again.
Moreover, because of their departure, the gentry families once again seized the dominant power, and after adapting to the methods of those apprentices, the gentry dealt with them even more calmly.
The concrete result was that in the following two-plus years, more than half of those apprentices died.
And they all died very “properly,” so proper that it was completely impossible to feel that the gentry families were behind it.
But because so many people died, the remaining apprentices became extremely terrified.
They would rather stop being officials altogether and flee back to York Territory.
At that time, Cliff hesitated. He held the power of his village firmly in his hands and was unwilling to flee just like that.
So he chose to stay once more.
Then he was met with the tacit, coordinated siege of the gentry who had already formed a loose alliance.
This made it so that, except when he went to Rod City to report for duty, he did not dare to leave the village at all.
He lived such oppressive days all the way until the Third Year of the New Testament Era.
Therefore, after being recalled to York Territory and freed from that oppression, he became extremely eager for power.
He knew clearly that his background and his abilities meant that only political power could give him value, could keep him from being like the first half of his life— bullied by legitimate heirs in childhood, thrown out as a test stone in his youth, and forced to imprison himself in adulthood while struggling to survive.
He wanted to obtain power. He wanted higher power— from his current position as an assistant, to the minister of some department, then to governor, and even—
To the Senate, to become one of those councilors who symbolized the highest authority.
He also knew that, compared to the illegitimate sons and concubine-born children of the Old Testament Era, his current life was already much better.
In that era, someone of his status more often ended up, on some day, dying in battle after pledging loyalty to a legitimate heir of the family.
But he had come out of the Clock Tower. His thinking had been liberated, his horizons raised, and he did not believe that his current state was his upper limit.
He felt that he could climb higher.
Therefore, when he had the chance to come into contact with the Senate, he established a connection with someone on the other side of the teleportation array— he did not know which councilor it was, but at the very least, the Senate on the teleportation array’s side tacitly approved his actions.
York City, inside Agamemnon’s residence.
A servant delivered three reports.
One recorded the matters of Saron City. One came from Cliff’s records of his conversation with Marcus. One came from Marcus, recording his conversation with Cliff.
Looking at the two men— two perspectives, yet completely identical dialogue— Agamemnon could not help but laugh.
It was indeed very hard not to laugh.
The first time he received two identical records from two people, Agamemnon had thought the two had colluded beforehand.
But after sending people to observe them for a period of time, Agamemnon discovered that the two were actually doing this kind of betraying-each-other business behind each other’s backs.
Of course, as the beneficiary, calling it mutual betrayal might be a bit discourteous.
It would be more appropriate to say that the two were competing to show their loyalty.
After reading through everything once and confirming that the two reports were indeed from different perspectives but contained the same content, Agamemnon placed both reports aside.
Whether they were showing loyalty or harboring other intentions was unimportant to Agamemnon.
He only needed them to complete the tasks they were supposed to complete.
Just as the reports they sent said— they were still useful now, so all of this was permitted.
Agamemnon finally turned his gaze to the report recording the matters of Saron City.
He could roughly tell that the little girl whom Jeremiah favored had made her move.
Although she had used a bit too much force, it was very effective.
It let those nobles understand the fragility beneath the officials’ strength, and also let the nobles know that with her around, she could serve as a leader.
However, this slightly overforceful method seemed like something he himself could also use.
Thinking this, Agamemnon wrote a letter.
“Go, send this to Manfred. Tell him that the lawyers should come out and get to work,” Agamemnon said.
And after he finished speaking, the letter on the table seemed as if it had been swallowed by the table, disappearing into it.