Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude Translations

Paul, after leaving the church in Port Fran, hastened back to Lakeheart Town on horseback.

As soon as he returned to his office, before he could even get comfortable in his seat, he immediately ordered the summoning of Ford, the Chief Administrator of the Administration Council, and Cecil, the Head of the Department of Intelligence.

“What has happened, my lord?” The two sensed an unusual tension upon entering Paul’s office. The count seemed to be in a foul mood, so they chose their words carefully.

“Gentlemen,” Paul spoke, intertwining his fingers and resting them on his stomach as he slouched in his chair, his tone sounding somewhat irritated.

“I inadvertently heard some disturbing news in Port Fran.”

What kind of disturbing news?

While Ford remained composed, Cecil, the intelligence chief, became visibly anxious. Was it a case of stolen critical technology or a leak of military secrets?

He rapidly reviewed recent work affairs in his mind, finding no slip-ups.

Paul’s subsequent words somewhat eased Cecil’s anxiety.

“Some of the families of soldiers who sacrificed their lives in our army have been treated unjustly back in their hometowns.”

Cecil exhaled in relief; this was outside his area of responsibility.

Now, it was Ford’s turn to be nervous.

“Lord Grayman, I swear by the Heavenly Father, the Administration Council has provided generous compensation to every family of the fallen soldiers, just as you instructed.”

Paul waved his hand, saying, “I’m not questioning your work, but…”

He explained to them the incident he encountered in the Port Fran church and then firmly instructed the intelligence chief: “Cecil, I order you to thoroughly investigate the situation in the village sheltering these families within a month. I cannot tolerate the families of our fallen soldiers being bullied.”

Ford and Cecil nodded gravely: “Rest assured, Lord Grayman, we will thoroughly investigate the matter.”

“Alright, you may go now. I expect results soon.”

“As you wish, Lord Grayman.”

As they turned to leave, Paul suddenly called out to them again.

“Wait, something else just came to mind.”

“What further instructions do you have, my lord?”

“I want to know about the living conditions of the clergy, especially those of lower ranks.”

Paul remembered the attire of Father Hersch from the church.

Ford and Cecil exchanged glances, wondering why the count suddenly took interest in such a matter.

“From what I know, the clergy live comfortably. People like Anderson, Morrison, and Vaolette from Port Fran, but that Hersch I saw seemed to be living modestly.”

“It’s not surprising, Lord Grayman,” Ford explained. “A mere priest overseeing a rural church wouldn’t have much wealth.”

Paul inquired, “So, the income… uh, I mean the treatment of these rural priests isn’t very good?”

“It’s only natural,” Ford responded matter-of-factly. “The church is a hierarchical system. The rural clergy, although frontline collectors of tithes, don’t get to keep much, and most of them have families to support.”

“Most of them have families?”

“Yes, they marry and have children.”

“Are there not many who remain celibate and devote themselves entirely to God?”

Ford shook his head: “One hundred percent devotion doesn’t necessarily bring material improvement, so seventy percent is sufficient.”

“Why can’t it, as far as I know, don’t such people get better promotions within the church?”

“Ho ho ho, Lord Grayman,” Ford said with a mysterious smile, leaning in to explain quietly to Paul.

“In theory, yes, but most of these rural priests come from common families and usually remain at that level for life. As for higher positions within the church… those are often reserved for the younger or illegitimate sons of great families who lack inheritance rights. For instance, the Hersch you met is from a noble family, as far as I know.”

Paul pondered this. Could these lower-ranking clergymen be a force to be reckoned with?

With that in mind, he turned to the intelligence chief: “Cecil, I have another important task for you.”

“Please command me, Lord Grayman.”

“Conduct a secret investigation into the living standards of all the clergy within our territory. Broadly categorize them into upper, middle, and lower tiers, and provide detailed information on their respective proportions and conditions.”

Cecil paused, wondering what the count needed this information for, but he agreed, accustomed to obeying without question, trusting in the count’s wisdom.

Paul then turned to Ford, the Chief Administrator and head of the finance department, asking, “What do you project our financial income to be next year?”

Ford recalled the data he had at hand and summarized, “Lord Grayman, considering the taxes from Alda, Baylding, and Emden, along with the various industries you have entrusted to the Administration Council, and converting all goods and currency into Ordo silver coins, I estimate it will be around 120,000.”

120,000 silver coins? Paul stroked his chin in thought. Including the income from the various forests, farms, workshops, mines, and shops operated by the Grayman family, it would be about 250,000 Ordo silver coins.

He recalled a post from his previous life that estimated the incomes of medieval Western European rulers in Byzantine nomismata. The mid-14th century income of the King of England was about 60,000 pounds, roughly equivalent to 400,000 nomismata. One nomisma gold coin was approximately equal to 54 grams of silver, and an Ordo silver coin contained about 24-25 grams of silver. By this calculation, the English King’s annual income would be over 860,000 Ordo silver coins, meaning his own wealth as a count was more than a quarter of the 14th-century English King’s?

The thought was exhilarating.

Of course, regarding the distribution and use of tax revenue from Baylding, Paul would certainly seek the opinion of Malron Ganard, still the Lord of Baylding and a staunch supporter of his decisions.

Watching Paul deep in thought, Ford and Cecil were puzzled. Why was the count inquiring about the living standards of low-ranking clergy and then the financial income of the territory? What was he planning?

Both men simultaneously thought of a possibility: Was the count planning to distribute money to these low-level clergy?

Ha ha, impossible. That would be like burning money in their hands, wouldn’t it?

They dismissed this absurd thought from their minds.

(AN: Upon research, it was found that in the first half of the 14th century, the annual income of the King of England was 60,000 pounds, a count’s minimum annual income was 1,000 pounds, and the wealthiest Earl of Lancaster had an annual income of 12,000 pounds, about 15% of the King’s. At that time, one pound contained 279.936 grams of silver. Considering the protagonist’s original countdom, his additional control over Baylding, and his annexation of Emden, which far exceeds a typical earldom, plus the income from industries developed using various new technologies, it would not be excessive for his annual income to reach twice that of the Earl of Lancaster in the mid-14th century, right?

However, the exact size and population of the Lancaster earldom at that time were not researched, so this setting is not very strict. Ha ha!)