Louis spoke concisely, yet it was enough to gradually brighten the eyes of those marginalized nobility.
In the past, the great nobles would never give them such opportunities.
To vie for so resources, they could only rely on attachnt, on showing devotion, on barely surviving.
But now, this Prefect personally opened a window for them.
Applause rang out again, and this ti, it was not just perfunctory politeness, but genuine anticipation.
Louis was not trying to be a philanthropist.
On the surface, it seed like an act of benefiting the weak and supporting the marginalized lesser nobility, benevolent and lofty.
But this was not charity; it was the art of distributing power.
The funds for the "Revitalization Fund" ca from Red Tide Territory, but were not unconditional gifts.
As long as resources were devolved and support implented, those lesser nobles originally under the wings of other great nobles of the Northern Territory would naturally gravitate towards a more reliable protector.
And Louis, this young Prefect holding resources, funds, and policies in his hands, was their only direction.
More crucially, each support plan required submitting detailed data on the current state of the territory, asset valuation, and personnel structure.
In what seed to be an open, transparent, and professional execution,
Louis quietly accomplished an in-depth understanding of the geography and resource structure of the lesser nobility.
And based on this, gradually established a "Directly Affiliated Vassal Network" centered around the Red Tide Territory, bypassing the control of the great nobles.
He didn’t need soldiers, nor the blade, just a few docunts and a few carloads of seeds.
He could break the monopoly of the great nobles over resources like fur, salt mines, forests, and reindeer belts.
And once those lesser nobility relied on him, willingly handing over finance, military, or even territorial administration to the Governor’s Mansion for assistance,
Louis would indirectly gain their "land control rights."
This was truly the consolidation of power in the real sense.
No need for war, nor stripping of titles—just let them surrender power in their "gratitude."
Of course, not everyone was genuinely convinced.
Among the nobles present, there were indeed so smart people.
They might not yet see through Louis’s entire plan, but that faint sense of control, that gradually enclosing arrangent, was enough to make them wary.
This was not a simple parliantary establishnt, but more like a well-laid sche, where they were elegantly ushered into position.
Yet no one dared to question him.
After all, Joseph’s scream from yesterday in this banquet hall seed still to echo in their ears, as the cold sweat hadn’t yet dried and their courage had already waned.
So, they just sat quietly, their gazes shifting, falling into silence amidst the applause and responses.
Following the crowd, they submitted to the surface-level "consensus."
The doubts and unease in their hearts were quietly hidden away.
Hidden behind wine glasses, beneath lowered eyelids, and within each loyal applause.
Then Louis raised his hand, as if introducing a routine matter: "The last agenda item, while the parliantary chanism is being established, I plan to set up a new auxiliary agency."
The crowd was montarily stunned.
He paused, his tone light as if discussing tomorrow’s weather: "It will be nad the ’Inspectorate.’
At these three words, the air slightly tensed.
Louis’s tone remained calm, as if soothing unnecessary panic: "Its duties are not complicated and are unrelated to you, should you abide by the rules."
He displayed a slight smile: "The Inspectorate will be responsible for four things: first, ensuring taxes are paid on ti; second, verifying whether the war readiness of each territory ets standards;
third, keeping an eye on those attempting to collude with foreign enemies and endanger the frontier; fourth, monitoring whether the conduct of our parliant mbers aligns with their oaths."
The nobles below did not respond imdiately. Their smiles froze on their faces like masks caught in the wind.
Soone instinctively tightened their grip on their wine glass, soone’s eyes flashed, then quickly lowered without speaking.
"You need not fear," Louis said lightly, "the Inspectorate is not ant to spy on you, but to protect our shared future from being corroded by scoundrels."
He surveyed the surroundings, each word distinct: "So do not follow in Joseph’s footsteps."
Upon hearing this, the hall was so silent that it was as if the air had frozen.
Even the crackling of logs burning in the fireplace beca particularly sharp and clear at that mont.
The nobles, who were previously whispering, all fell silent at this point.
No one spoke.
No one was willing at this mont to be the first to stand out.
The nobles exchanged glances, complex emotions hidden in their eyes: suspicion, unease, struggle.
But ultimately, all were swallowed by silence.
Louis’s sharp gaze swept across the room, his tone suddenly becoming straightforward: "If any of you still have questions about the establishnt of the Inspectorate, I’m willing to hear different opinions, and we can have an open discussion."
His tone carried not a hint of provocation, almost with a lingering sense of sincerity.
But it was precisely this sincerity that made it all the more terrifying.
Who dared to speak?
Joseph’s screams still echoed from last night, and those images remained fresh in everyone’s mind.
Furthermore, Louis had indeed just ntioned two "righteous acts": the establishnt of the parliant and the Revitalization Fund, both genuinely good deeds.
Anyone standing out to oppose the Inspectorate at this ti would essentially label themselves as the villain?
Opposing new policies on "protecting the frontier and clarifying tax obligations," wouldn’t that imply...a guilty conscience?
The scene was silent for several seconds.
No one responded to him.
Louis nodded, seemingly unsurprised, his tone as steady as it was gentle: "In that case, the establishnt of the Inspectorate is settled."
With a gentle phrase, the decision was made.
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