Reciprocity

Francis looked at Bargnar with utmost sincerity.

He had heard rumors about the King of Lanning: a mediocre monarch, devoid of glorious achievements, yet one who managed to preserve his ancestral legacy. But Francis thought otherwise. Anyone who could hold onto a throne for so long was far from simple; underestimating them was an insult to one's own intelligence.

Bargnar chuckled, "Continue."

Francis declared, "As is widely known, the Lanning Empire flourishes under Your Majesty's reign. However, Your Majesty’s reach, vast as it is, cannot illuminate every single citizen. Thus, many indigent folk within the Empire still require aid!"

This opening volley of flattery caused several less astute officials to frown. They no longer saw Francis as a lamb to be shorn, but a cunning adversary!

Francis pressed on, "Take Saint John City, the Imperial Capital, for example. To my knowledge, tens of thousands in its Southern Quarter struggle with hunger and lack warm clothing. Your Majesty, Saint John City is the heart of the Empire, the nexus of the three continents—especially the Aethelgard Continent—and, indeed, Your Majesty's very visage! Imagine foreign envoys arriving to pay homage to you, only to witness, but a stone's throw away, paupers subsisting on crumbs and cloaked in rags. How, then, would they judge our glorious Empire?"

"Audacious! Is the Empire's governance a subject for a mere fifteen-year-old child to debate!?" an indignant voice boomed.

King Bargnar did not quell the minister’s outburst, instead observing with detached amusement. Princess Yuna, however, spoke up for Francis: "Gentlemen, Francis speaks the truth, does he not?"

Francis, albeit reluctantly, thanked Yuna, then continued, "Therefore, I propose utilizing these gold coins to aid the indigent of the Southern Quarter, ensuring they are well-fed and warmly clothed. In doing so, any envoy arriving in the Imperial Capital will behold a powerful and prosperous Lanning Empire, and universally laud Your Majesty's benevolent rule!"

Having spoken, Francis smiled, surveying the Lanning monarchs and ministers. Inwardly, he mused: *Bargnar surely won't refuse. To gain prestige using others' coin—only a fool would decline!*

Against a seasoned ruler who had commanded the throne for over two decades, petty cleverness was utterly useless. No matter how brilliant Francis was, he couldn't outmaneuver such a political veteran. Thus, he shrewdly chose the most surefire approach: *when there are benefits, we all partake—and make sure no one else profits!*

As expected, Bargnar mused, "Hmm, there's merit in what you say. Are you truly willing to use these gold coins to aid the indigent of the Southern Quarter?"

"Indeed! However, the gold coins are finite; simply distributing them would offer only fleeting relief," Francis responded. "I propose a different method of assistance, one I call a 'Charitable Foundation'!" He watched Bargnar's reaction, and seeing a flicker of interest, elaborated, "My vision is to establish an enterprise in the Southern Quarter, under Your Majesty's name. The able-bodied poor could then find opportunities to work and earn wages, while the elderly, infirm, and disabled would receive free aid."

"There are sixty-seven thousand indigent people in the Southern Quarter. Your mere three thousand gold coins, I fear, can hardly establish a workshop for tens of thousands, can they?" Bargnar promptly inquired.

"We can begin by assisting a portion of them," Francis countered smoothly. "As this enterprise expands, it will reach an ever-growing number of people! Concurrently, esteemed sirs and the wealthy elite of the Empire can donate to this venture. I shall meticulously record the name of every donor and publicly proclaim their benevolent acts, so all may know of their good deeds!"

He smiled, awaiting Bargnar's reply. Francis's idea was simple: transform the liquid gold into fixed assets and a charitable foundation. Bargnar would gain the naming rights, while Francis would oversee its operation and profits.

This was a straightforward economic principle from Earth.

Bargnar pondered for a moment, then asked, "Gentlemen, what are your thoughts? I believe this warrants a trial!" He lightly slapped his cheek. "Ah, you lot, why is it that not one of you can consider the Empire's reputation?"

His words clearly signaled his support for Francis.

Francis struck while the iron was hot. "If Your Majesty permits, I would name this enterprise after Your Majesty."

*What a sly little rascal!* Bargnar let out a hearty laugh, thinking to himself, *This impudent fellow, to monopolize these gold coins, dares even drag the King into his scheme! His audacity is considerable. Yet, his proposal holds merit; at the very least, it will bolster my prestige among the common folk and contribute to the stability of the Imperial Capital.*

With that thought, he declared, "If none of you gentlemen have further objections, then it is settled. Three thousand gold coins from the late Minister of Finance's inheritance shall be allotted to Francis, for him to aid the indigent of the Southern Quarter in 'My' name—thereby bringing prestige to the Empire, and to Me, your King!"

At that moment, a wizened old man in purple robes, standing in the front row, cleared his throat softly. Once he had everyone's attention, he announced loudly, "As the Imperial Prime Minister, I second His Majesty's proposal!"

With both the King and the Prime Minister having spoken, more than half the ministers immediately echoed their support. The matter was essentially decided.

Curiously, the Precious Lotus Scripture had not prompted Francis for *this* particular act of benevolence. Such self-initiated good deeds had to be 'unearthed' by Francis himself; the Scripture merely offered the most fundamental guidance. Furthermore, the lotus petals would only bloom once the good deed was truly brought to fruition.

Immediately thereafter, the Prime Minister added, "Francis truly lives up to his moniker, 'the Virtue of Saint John City'! To consider the Empire's welfare at such a tender age is commendable. On my own behalf, I shall donate five hundred gold coins to his enterprise—a contribution towards aiding the indigent of the Southern Quarter!"

This was Antoine, the Imperial Prime Minister. Francis gave him a double-take. *Why was this old fox helping him? This was essentially giving him five hundred gold coins for free!*

Antoine seemed to regard Francis favorably, and continued, "Furthermore, Francis cannot manage an enterprise on His Majesty's behalf as a mere commoner. I propose he be bestowed with a noble title—at least that of a Baronet!"

This time, even King Bargnar and Angez were surprised. Antoine was a notorious old fox of the Empire, known for never acting without personal gain. Why was he so wholeheartedly assisting Francis?

The other ministers, too, were astonished. However, they soon seemed to recall something, and their surprise quickly gave way to understanding.

Francis didn't believe in gifts from the heavens. He gazed at Antoine with suspicion, and Antoine returned his gaze, his shrewd eyes holding a strange, ambiguous glint, as if teasing Francis.

*This old geezer isn't… a queer, is he!?* Francis thought maliciously.

At that moment, Bargnar waved a dismissive hand. "Very well, grant him the title of Baronet! Francis, you may depart. Present your detailed plan to me within three days! Gentlemen, let us resume our discussion on the disposition of the remaining seven thousand gold coins!"

The grand hall once again devolved into a clamorous scene, as everyone resumed their scramble for the inheritance. Only Godfather Ferdinand offered Francis an approving glance as he exited.

Catching Ferdinand's gaze, Francis inwardly sneered. *If I didn't have that powerful Battle God backing me, would he still be so eager to secure me a massive sum?*

Francis knew perfectly well that while the Holy Church of Battle Gods had granted him some advantages, these were merely overtures to the Battle God behind him. In truth, he was but a pawn between two colossal powers, a mere tool to be exploited!

What he was doing now was extracting the greatest possible benefits from between these two giants—in other words, dancing on a knife's edge.

Great risks yielded great rewards; Francis had believed this in his previous life, and it was this conviction that emboldened him to hide a sacred artifact in his crotch and trick Ferdinand in this current life!

Steve obediently followed Francis out of the grand hall. But the moment they stepped outside, he immediately grabbed Francis's hand with a roguish grin. "Oh, my dear brother, you're now a Baronet with thousands of gold coins! So, how much do you plan to lend your loving elder brother?"

"Enough to ensure you can chase all the girls you want!" Francis said distractedly.

"Elder Brother, are Prime Minister Antoine and Father part of the same political faction?"

"Er, not really. That old geezer tries not to offend anyone!"

"Then why did he help me?" Francis wondered aloud. "I can't cultivate battle qi, nor am I some high official. There's no benefit for him in assisting me!"

Steve's eyes widened in astonishment. "Heavens, you don't mean you don't know, do you? Antoine is Avril's grandfather! He dotes on his granddaughter Avril more than anything!"

Francis remained utterly bewildered. "Who is Avril?"

"Ancestors above, I beg you, save poor Francis!" Steve dramatically wailed, until a Palace Guard's stern command silenced him. Only then did he lean in with a strange, conspiratorial grin. "Let me tell you, Avril is..."

"Steve, allow me to explain!" A figure quickly emerged from the grand hall. Francis recognized him at once: none other than Antoine, the Imperial Prime Minister, who had just assisted him.

"Avril is my granddaughter," Antoine stated, "and the young lady you rescued on Divine Peace Day!"