Chapter 104: Law and Order (Part 6)

"Have Alice and Aaron left?" Arthur asked, his tone casual, though his mind was already running through a dozen matters waiting on his desk.

Klein, ever the efficient right hand, gave a small nod. "Yes, Your Majesty. They departed for Solornay Magic Academy yesterday morning. The roads are clearer now that winter has passed, and the headmaster arranged for an escort to ensure their safe return."

Arthur gave a slight nod. With winter's retreat, the flow of travel had resumed, and students returning to their academies was an expected part of the seasonal rhythm. Still, a part of him found it quieter without the siblings' energetic presence—Alice with her burning curiosity, Aaron with his quiet yet steady growth.

But now, his mind shifted to more pressing concerns.

"What about Count Delric Vachiel?" Arthur asked, his gaze narrowing slightly. "I summoned him nearly two weeks ago. Has he arrived in the capital yet?"

Klein's expression darkened, just a shade. "No, Your Majesty. There's been no report of his arrival at the outer gates, nor any notice from his estate."

Arthur's fingers tapped once against the armrest of his seat.

By tradition—and more importantly, by law—when a noble was summoned by the crown, they were expected to appear within a fortnight. It was custom that they arrive not at the very end, but preferably five days in advance, both as a show of respect and to allow time for preparation. The journey from the Vachiel lands to Eldoria typically took no more than six days, even with a full entourage. By all standards, Count Delric should have been in the capital by now—possibly even a week early, had he truly honored the summons.

But now, eleven days have passed.

Three days remained.

And the Count's absence was beginning to echo louder than any words.

Arthur's eyes sharpened, but his voice remained level. "Three days left. If he does not appear by then, we'll consider it not just a delay—but defiance."

Klein bowed slightly, his posture respectful and firm. "Understood, Your Majesty."

Arthur exhaled softly, shifting the topic with seamless authority. "I've been occupied with the Chronos negotiations these past few days, but tell me—how are the recruits faring? The ones chosen for the officer of the law program. During the last evaluation, how many were able to read and pass the written examination?"

Klein straightened as he replied, "Ninety-six recruits passed, Your Majesty. The rest… failed."

Arthur arched an eyebrow, his voice lowering. "Only ninety-six? Out of seven hundred and sixty?"

"Yes," Klein confirmed. "But some of those who failed did so by a narrow margin. With continued instruction, an additional thirty-three have since improved and advanced into Level 2 study."

Arthur gave a thoughtful nod, crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back in his chair. The structure of the officer training program was one of the most ambitious social reforms in Keldoria. It wasn't just about creating a new police force—it was about crafting a new class of civil servants, bound not by noble birth, but by merit.

He had personally divided the program into three tiers:

Level 1 was the foundation. It housed those who were completely illiterate—men who had never held a quill in their lives. Here, they were taught to read, write, and comprehend basic speech patterns, while simultaneously undergoing physical training to improve strength, endurance, and reflexes.

Level 2 was for those who had grasped basic literacy. These recruits were now being taught the early principles of civic law, crowd control, investigation methods, incident reporting, and ethical conduct. They learned how to take testimonies, resolve disputes without force, and uphold public order—by reason, not violence, while simultaneously undergoing physical training to improve strength, endurance, and reflexes.

Arthur was not merely training guards. He was laying the groundwork for a professional peacekeeping force that could one day operate independently of corrupt nobles or brute enforcers.

"Level 2 is progressing steadily," Klein added. "Those within it are showing aptitude in their readings, and many are beginning to think critically during scenario drills. It's still early, but the instructors say the difference is night and day compared to how they first arrived."

Arthur nodded in satisfaction.

"And Level 3?" he asked.

Klein hesitated, then replied, "None yet, Your Majesty. The requirements for advancement to Level 3 remain high—by your own design. Until they demonstrate clear moral character, leadership under pressure, and comprehensive legal understanding, we will not promote anyone prematurely."

Arthur didn't look disappointed. If anything, he seemed pleased by Klein's caution.

"Good. Excellence isn't born in haste."

He rose from his seat and walked slowly toward the window, hands behind his back. Outside, he could see the training fields in the distance—the shouts of instructors, the formations of young men repeating drills, some with books in hand, others running laps under the watchful eyes of taskmasters.

This was what reform looked like. Not speeches. Not banners. But sweat, repetition, and knowledge planted in minds long denied it.

He turned slightly. "Make sure those who show promise are given every tool to succeed. We are not simply building officers—we are forging the spine of a lawful society."

Klein gave a crisp nod. "Understood, Your Majesty."

Arthur paused for a beat before shifting the topic. "And the Firearms Corps? We should have completed recruitment for the first batch by now."

Klein straightened, already prepared with his report. "Yes, Your Majesty. The initial recruitment phase has concluded. We've selected four hundred men, and they've begun intensive training. Once they've reached operational readiness, we'll begin deploying them to other regions beyond Eldoria."

Arthur nodded, satisfied, but Klein wasn't finished.

"Of course," he added, "their deployment will remain covert. No other kingdom has seen such weapons yet, and keeping the Corps classified for now grants us a critical advantage. And, as you instructed, we're using regional expansion to not only bolster our military but create more employment across Keldoria. Recruitment will follow in waves, localized by district."

Arthur's gaze sharpened slightly with approval. "Good. That's the long-term vision—turning defense into opportunity. Now then… how fares weapon production? How is Master Blackwell handling the pressure?"

Klein answered smoothly, "Production remains steady for now, but once the blast furnace under construction in Eldoria is completed, our capacity will increase significantly. Blackwell has already submitted revised estimates showing a drastic uptick in output."

Arthur gave a faint smile. He had anticipated as much. The traditional forges were reliable, but limited. The blast furnace project was one of his personal priorities.

He had instructed several skilled metallurgists and foremen from Ironhearth to relocate temporarily to Eldoria and oversee the build—among them, one person in particular came to mind.

"Is Audrey among the returning group from Ironhearth?" Arthur asked, his tone casual but deliberate.

"She is, Your Majesty," Klein replied. "She arrived four days ago with the technical team."

Arthur nodded once, slowly. That was good. Audrey was a skilled forge technician—sharp, meticulous, and capable. But there was more to it. Marquis Henry, her father, had sent a personal request to meet with her. Arthur had seen no reason to deny it, and bringing her to Eldoria served dual purposes—technical oversight and goodwill.

"Excellent," Arthur murmured. "Things are progressing well."

Klein lowered his head respectfully. "If that is all, Your Majesty… shall I take my leave?"

Arthur gave a light wave of dismissal. "Yes, you may go."

With practiced grace, Klein turned and exited the hall.

Now alone, Arthur allowed the silence to settle in. The weight of governance returned—not heavy, but constant. A silent companion at the edge of every decision.

He leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded in thought.

Looking back… I've created jobs for nearly ten thousand people, he mused. From recruiting more knights and mages and repurposed into meaningful roles… to the Firearms Corps, the legal officers, the new industrial workers in printing,..

The thought stirred a quiet pride, tempered by caution.

For now, it's manageable. These people have income, which means they spend. Which means gold flows, markets grow, and tax revenue strengthens. A growing economy always begins with confidence in circulation.

But there was always a shadow to progress.

Still… the expenses will catch up. Infrastructure, education, public housing, roads, sanitation—it's all necessary. But costly. I have to ensure the economic flywheel doesn't spin out of control.

Arthur's gaze drifted toward the window.

But even so, he thought, people's lives are improving. They're cleaner. Healthier. Busier. Less afraid. More hopeful.

And that, perhaps more than anything, was the truest currency of a stable kingdom—hope.

Just then, the heavy wooden doors creaked open again.

Arthur turned, mildly surprised.

A valet entered—young, red-cheeked, and breathless. His hurried footsteps echoed across the marble floor, and his anxious expression made it clear: whatever he was here to say wasn't ordinary news.

"Your Majesty!" the valet said, giving a hurried bow. "Forgive the interruption, but… something urgent has just arrived. You'll want to hear this."

Arthur's brow arched faintly.

"Speak," he commanded, rising slowly from his chair. "What's happened?"