NOVPUBChapter 174: Ch 174: Libration at last- Part 2
As the rich young master clumsily fumbled with tools under Melissa’s watchful gaze—mismatching pipes, bending metal he shouldn’t touch—Kyle calmly walked away with the servant.
He didn’t need to see more.
The boy clearly had no grasp on even the basics. Every moment only exposed him further.
The servant, however, kept glancing over his shoulder, his gait uncertain. He tried to keep his steps even, but Kyle’s sharp senses didn’t miss the tension in his frame.
“Is something wrong?”
Kyle asked, his tone calm but carrying weight.
The servant flinched slightly, as if unprepared to be addressed so directly.
“N-No, Young Master. Everything is fine,” he replied, almost instinctively.
Kyle didn’t respond immediately—he just kept walking in silence. That silence made the servant more anxious.
Finally, unable to bear the pressure, he sighed and bowed his head slightly.
“I… lied. Forgive me, Young Master. I am worried. My lord—he may be an arrogant fool, but he’s the only reason our families are able to survive. He buys our work, puts food on our tables, and gives shelter to our children. This city… it does not welcome the poor unless we have something to offer the rich. And even then, we are tools, not people.”
He admitted, voice quiet.
Kyle listened intently, eyes unreadable as he studied the boy’s earnest expression. There was pain there, not for himself, but for others. Genuine, unfiltered pain.
“I don’t care if you punish him. But please… don’t kill him. If he dies, a lot of people who’ve done nothing wrong will starve.”
The servant continued.
Kyle stopped walking.
“I see. You’re not worried about yourself, or even him. You’re worried about the others he sustains.”
He said after a pause.
The servant nodded slowly.
“You built that piping system alone, didn’t you?”
The servant looked startled, then reluctantly nodded again.
“Yes, Young Master. But I don’t want to cause problems—”
“You’re not causing problems. You’ve just proven something important. You’re the one with skill, not the noble who leeches off your work.”
Kyle interrupted, his tone steady.
The servant looked up, confused and a little hopeful.
“I have a proposition for you. Gather the craftsmen, workers, and their families—the ones like you, the ones who live in fear of being discarded. Come with me.”
Kyle continued.
The servant blinked.
“Come… with you?”
“I’m building something—my own land, my own territory. What I need more than anything are skilled people I can trust. I’ll offer you shelter, food, tools, and most importantly—freedom from the nobles who exploit you. You’ll be paid fairly, your families protected, and your talents recognized.”
The servant looked stunned.
“You… you’re serious?”
Kyle’s eyes sharpened.
“I don’t make empty offers. If you agree, I’ll send carriages in two days. You don’t have to give me your answer now, but understand this—people like you deserve better. And I intend to give it to you.”
Silence hung between them for a moment before the servant nodded, slowly at first, and then more firmly.
“I… I will speak to them, Young Master. I will tell them what you’ve said.”
Kyle nodded.
“Good. But be careful. If the noble learns that his source of wealth might walk away, he’ll try to stop you.”
The servant swallowed hard.
“Understood.”
As they returned to where Melissa still stood, arms crossed and frowning at the rich noble’s pathetic attempts to understand a blueprint, Kyle’s confidence grew.
He hadn’t just found a skilled craftsman—he had discovered a network of hardworking people, trapped in a system that treated them as expendable.
Kyle wasn’t interested in rescuing them out of kindness.
He needed them.
By evening, Kyle’s proposal had spread through every corner of Venuce like wildfire.
Whispers turned into hushed conversations, and hushed conversations became frantic discussions in alleyways, workshops, and crowded taverns.
For the first time in years, the craftsmen of the city had a glimmer of hope—an offer that could free them from the greedy hands of nobles and merchant lords who treated them like disposable tools.
Many began making quiet preparations.
Tools were stashed. Savings hidden beneath floorboards were retrieved. Families were informed.
And the idea of a better life—one where they could live with dignity—took root in their hearts.
But the news didn’t stop with the common folk.
It reached the upper echelons of Venuce’s society—the wealthy business owners, the minor nobles, and the merchant guild leaders whose wealth depended entirely on the labor of the very craftsmen now ready to flee.
And when these men heard of Kyle’s proposal, panic struck.
They couldn’t let this happen.
If the workers left, their businesses would collapse. Their wealth would crumble. Their influence would vanish.
Desperation made them bold.
That very night, they sent enforcers and lackeys to threaten the craftsmen.
Doors were kicked in. Warnings were delivered under the cover of night. “Leave, and you die,” they said.
“Leave, and your families suffer.”
Fear spread like poison among the people who had just begun to dream.
By nightfall, Bruce arrived at Kyle’s temporary residence, his expression grim.
“Young Master, we’ve received reports of widespread intimidation. Many of the craftsmen now fear for their lives. The nobles and merchants are trying to hold them hostage with threats.”
He said, bowing.
Kyle, who had been calmly reviewing the reports, didn’t so much as flinch. He closed the file in front of him and looked up with calm, calculating eyes.
“So they’ve shown their true colors. Good. That makes it easier.”
He murmured.
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
“Do we retaliate?”
“No need for panic. We’ll resolve this publicly.”
Kyle replied evenly.
He stood and straightened his coat.
“Gather everyone in the city square. I want every craftsman, merchant, noble, and worker present. If they want to challenge me, they can do it in the open.”
Bruce gave a small smirk.
“Understood. I’ll see to it.”
With the support of Sir Veldom’s former guards—now fully submitted to Kyle after witnessing his strength and learning of his noble bloodline—gathering the city was not a challenge.
The guards respected strength, and Kyle had displayed it without hesitation.
To them, he was not just a passing noble—he was the authority in Venuce now.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the square was packed with people.
Nervous craftsmen huddled together, many clutching their tools as if for protection.
The rich merchants stood stiffly at the edges, their pride bruised but their greed burning in their eyes.
The nobles lingered behind them, masks of civility hiding the venom on their tongues.
Kyle stepped onto a raised platform at the center, flanked by Melissa on one side and Bruce on the other.
He looked down at the sea of people, his voice clear and commanding when he spoke.
“I came to Venuce seeking craftsmen. I offered shelter, food, and fair pay—not as charity, but because I value talent.”
He began.
A murmur ran through the crowd.
“But instead of fair competition certain individuals chose to use threats, fear, and violence to keep people trapped in servitude.”
Kyle continued,
He paused, his eyes sweeping over the nobles and merchants.
“You say they owe you? That they should stay because you’ve allowed them to live under your feet?”
The air grew heavy.
“Then let me make this clear. From this moment forward, anyone who threatens or harms a single craftsman in this city will be treated as an enemy of the Armstrong name.”
His voice sharpened.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The Armstrong family’s name was not one to be taken lightly.
“If you think power gives you the right to enslave, think again. I have the right and the force to take this entire city if I want. But I won’t—not unless you force my hand.”
The merchants paled. The nobles stiffened.
The craftsmen looked at Kyle with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Those who wish to leave with me, prepare yourselves. I will provide carriages and guards to escort you safely. No one will harm you.”
