Robbery
The gap between retired soldiers and militiamen can never be bridged by a conscription order.
The former is quenched steel, and the latter is unforged iron.
This was the clearest understanding in Karl's mind when he stood on Carnford's training ground and looked at two completely different figures.
In the life of retired soldiers, there is no trivial matter of spring planting and autumn harvest, no ties to wives, children, and children. From dawn to dusk, from physical training to formation deduction, from weapon dismantling to combat, they are honing only one thing day after day: how to kill people efficiently on the battlefield, and how to save their lives in desperate situations.
The trembling feeling of the bow string being stretched to the extreme, the resistance of the long sword cutting into the armor when slashing, and the dull impact of the shield when blocking, these touches have long been engraved in their muscle memory.
And the military camp, the iron-casting furnace, can shape an iron army far better than any preaching.
As soon as the morning bell rings, the footsteps of thousands of people break through the morning fog; military orders are issued, and they must be carried out regardless of their willingness or not.
Here, obedience is an instinct engraved in the bone marrow, and questioning is an original sin that is never allowed.
More importantly, those days of climbing and rolling together, enduring the scorching sun and snow, and fighting back to back in simulated battles will give birth to a kind of trust that transcends blood ties.
This kind of trust allows soldiers to dare to hand over their defenseless backs to their comrades during a charge, allowing them to know that someone is behind them without looking back on a battlefield filled with arrows.
The eyes of the militiamen do not have the focus of professional soldiers. They will be distracted during drills, wondering whether the crops at home should be harvested; they will hesitate when military orders are issued, and will whisper because the generals' decisions are not to their liking.
What's even more fatal is that the ties to their hometown are like an invisible thread, firmly tying their footsteps.
Once the war drags on, the morale of the militiamen who are far away from their hometowns will fluctuate, and homesickness will spread like a plague. Some people will sneak away, and some will gather to petition and demand to return to their homeland.
The attachment to the land rooted in blood is a simple virtue in peacetime, but it becomes a poison that breaks the morale of the army on the battlefield.
It is precisely because he is well aware of the huge difference between the two that Karl maintains the expenses of two decommissioned corps.
These two teams are like two bottomless pits that cannot be filled. The gold coins they swallow every day are enough to make Edgar's hair turn gray.
Fine armor, sharp spears, as well as a sufficient daily supply of Black Bread, bacon and ale, all of which are inseparable from the support of gold coins.
But every time Karl saw the soldiers sweating profusely on the training ground and rehearsing the formations with ease, he felt that the investment was worth it.
Just thinking about the gold coins gave Karl a headache. He stood on the high platform and glanced at the busy town in the distance.
In the port, several warships were being repaired with high scaffolding, and the sound of carpenters' axes was heard one after another; in the wilderness outside the city, the outline of the newly built Tunbao began to appear, and the masons were rushing to put huge stones on the foundation of the wall.
In the relief station, hundreds of refugees lined up to receive relief food. The crisp sound of clinking pottery bowls was mixed with the cries of hungry children.
Behind every scene, there is a steady stream of gold coins being spent.
Military expenditures, shipbuilding project funds, Tunbao construction costs, food relief for refugees... everything is piled up, and there is no room for any delay in any of them.
The reserve of nearly 30,000 gold coins in the treasury looks like a series of reassuring numbers in the ledger, but when spread over various expenses, it appears to be so stretched.
Edgar and several financial officers took the account books and calculated it for him. The monthly military expenses of the two corps would cost two thousand gold coins. The cost of repairing warships and building new ships would cost at least three thousand gold coins every month.
Tunbao Construction is a long-term expenditure, which amounts to fifteen hundred gold coins per month. Add in the food procurement for refugee relief, the maintenance of urban infrastructure, and the salaries of officials and craftsmen... After all, thirty thousand gold coins is a luxury to survive this year.
The crux of the problem is that the speed of making money cannot keep up with the speed of spending money.
Karl has racked his brains to develop financial resources, but now they are far from enough to support his grand ambitions.
At present, the majority of the territory's income comes from the tariff of Carnford as the north-south transit station. This item accounts for almost 70% of the total income.
The caravans from the south drove carriages loaded with goods through Fran City to arrive here. The carriages were filled with full grain, mellow ale, exquisite pottery, and a small amount of silk and spices.
Northern Territory's Grimm caravan will load locally produced high-quality furs, minerals buried deep in the ground, and giant trees felled from virgin forests onto ships, and transport them from Amber Bay to the wealthy city-states in the south.
These caravans traveling from north to south must pay customs duties at the Carnford dock or checkpoint before they can continue their journey.
This income is stable and considerable, but it also has inherent limitations. It completely depends on the prosperity of north-south trade. Once the trade route is blocked, the income will immediately drop sharply.
As for government-run shops, they are still far from being large-scale. Shops in the initial stage not only have to invest a lot of money in distribution and operation, but also face competition from private traders. Therefore, their income is meager, which is better than nothing.
After thinking about it, Karl can only place high hopes on this year's autumn tax.
The land was also distributed to displaced farmers, allowing them to cultivate wasteland and pay one-fifth of the grain as tax after the autumn harvest.
A few days ago, people from Edgar reported good news. The farmers who were allocated the land were so enthusiastic that they went to the fields with hoes before dawn. Not only did they keep the allocated land in order, they also took the initiative to reclaim a lot of wasteland.
Karl still has great hopes for this. If the weather goes well this year and the autumn harvest can be good, the autumn tax will undoubtedly greatly alleviate the financial pressure on the territory.
But hope is hope, and Karl also knows that relying solely on tariffs and autumn taxes to support his ambition to expand territory and build a city-state is nothing more than a drop in the bucket.
He leaned on the handrail of the high platform and couldn't help but sigh. Sure enough, farming and building this road was a hundred times more difficult than fighting. It was easier to make money through robbery.
Last year Sauron entered the customs and plundered, and brought back enough gold, silver, jewelry, grain and livestock to last for several years.
Carnford's treasury is empty, but the Sauron strongholds entrenched in the surrounding mountains and forests are all extremely rich.
At this moment, an idea suddenly struck his mind like lightning - robbery.
This idea came so suddenly and so naturally that Karl was stunned for a moment, then slapped his forehead hard and cursed himself for being so stupid.
The wealth Sauron burned, killed, and looted was piled up in a dark cave, covered with thick dust. Rather than letting it rot there, it would be better to use it for yourself.
And he holds two out-of-service regiments and three Militia Camp in his hands. This well-trained force has always been used only for defense and to resist the intrusion of Sauron, but he has accidentally forgotten that one of the most primitive uses of the army is to attack and plunder.