Chapter 459: The Minister Trouble Thought

"Your Highness, you have completely misunderstood me. I have no such intentions toward you."

As Prince Simon and Baldwin Atwood walked through the corridors of Oxford Academy, the Chief Minister wore a troubled expression. He seemed to have something important to say, yet hesitated to speak.

Simon glanced at him.

"Just say what’s on your mind. Since when did you become so cautious? You used to be the straightforward imperial censor who dared to criticise even the highest officials."

Baldwin gave a bitter smile.

"Your Highness, this matter concerns the Nelson family. I must be careful with my words. After all, I follow the Legalist school of thought. If I speak too openly, others may interpret my words as an attack on the religious scholars."

Simon raised an eyebrow.

He had never bothered to ask which philosophical school Baldwin followed. Now that the man had revealed his position, Simon finally understood some of the difficulties he had faced at court.

"No wonder you were never fully trusted by the court. Your philosophical beliefs must have been one of the reasons."

"Precisely."

Baldwin sighed.

"Legalism advocates strict laws and decisive enforcement. It values order and results over sentiment. Such principles can easily provoke opposition, especially in an empire where religious scholars dominate the political establishment. I suppose this has always been one of my greatest weaknesses."

Simon smiled faintly before suddenly remembering something.

"Wait a moment. If you follow Legalism, how did you manage to pass the imperial examinations?"

The question caught Baldwin off guard. He chuckled bitterly.

"Your Highness, that is a rather embarrassing story. If I wanted to enter the imperial court, I had no choice but to study the classics even harder than others. I learned to quote the teachings, recite the ancient texts, and present myself in a manner acceptable to the examiners."

He paused before continuing.

"But passing the examinations did not change my convictions. Deep down, I have always believed that Legalism offers the best path toward restoring our fractured nation."

"I see."

Simon nodded thoughtfully.

Having come from the modern era, he had little patience for treating philosophical schools as absolute truths. To him, Legalism and the empire’s dominant religious philosophy were simply different approaches to governing society.

Neither deserved unconditional worship.

If an ideology could promote development, strengthen the government, and improve people’s lives, he was willing to use it. If it became an obstacle to progress, he would not hesitate to challenge it.

Practical results mattered more than empty arguments.

With that thought in mind, Simon returned to the subject that had prompted Baldwin’s hesitation.

"Then tell me, why did you bring up the Nelson family of Wilmington?"

Baldwin glanced around before lowering his voice.

"The political reforms you have introduced appear to have attracted their attention. Your Highness, many of your policies within Brambleford have already drawn criticism from the religious scholars. When I visited the Medical Academy today, I remembered the situation and thought it necessary to warn you."

"Hmph."

Simon snorted.

"I govern Brambleford through capable people, practical policies, and the strength of my domain. I don’t depend on the approval of scholars and officials. Even if the Nelson family criticises me behind closed doors, what difference does it make?"

His tone was calm, almost dismissive.

However, Baldwin knew the matter was not quite so simple.

Simon had already received information about the Nelson family from Prince Clifford. Their influence in Wilmington was immense, particularly among scholars, officials, and the empire’s religious establishment.

The criticism directed at Simon was nothing new.

They disapproved of his emphasis on commerce, engineering, medicine, and practical education. In their eyes, his preference for useful skills over the Four Books and Five Classics was an affront to established principles.

But Simon understood that their objections went deeper than philosophy.

Since taking control of Brambleford, he had never visited Wilmington to pay his respects to the Nelson family.

That alone was enough to offend them.

Even the previous emperor, Aleric, had personally visited Wilmington to pay his respects to the family, demonstrating just how deeply entrenched its influence was.

If an emperor had considered such a visit necessary, how could the Nelson family tolerate being ignored by a prince who governed only a small portion of the empire?

Worse still, Simon had shown little interest in appointing officials recommended by the religious scholars.

From their perspective, his behaviour was not merely disrespectful. It was a challenge to their authority.

Baldwin carefully explained the situation.

"Your Highness is right that you need not govern according to their wishes. However, the recent reforms have created numerous vacancies in the administration. According to the information I’ve received, the Nelson family is very interested in these positions. Several of their followers have already begun preparing to enter your government."

Simon looked at him.

"So they want to recommend their people for government positions?"

"That is the most obvious possibility."

Baldwin hesitated briefly.

"But I suspect they want something more."

Simon’s expression changed.

"Something more?"

He frowned.

He had deliberately avoided provoking the Nelson family without sufficient reason. Brambleford was developing rapidly, but its foundations were still fragile. A premature confrontation with the empire’s dominant religious establishment could create unnecessary trouble.

The religious scholars were not merely a group of intellectuals. Their influence extended throughout the Eldorian Empire, touching education, official appointments, family traditions, and the very foundations of social order.

The empire’s established intellectual traditions were deeply intertwined with Azariah, the faith that had served as the state religion for generations.

Azariah was more than a religion.

Its teachings shaped the empire’s moral philosophy. Its scholars occupied an influential social stratum, while its religious institutions reinforced the authority of the established order.

Together, these forces had shaped the empire’s political and cultural identity over countless generations.

The people believed in its teachings. Officials invoked its principles. Scholars defended their authority.

And the Nelson family of Wilmington stood among its most respected representatives.

Throughout successive dynasties and countless conflicts, the family had retained its prestige. Its influence was so deeply rooted that even emperors treated it with considerable respect.

Challenging such an institution was not something Simon could accomplish through a few decrees.

He needed time, resources, and alternatives.

Only then could he gradually weaken its monopoly over public thought without destabilising his own domain.

As Simon considered these matters, Baldwin finally revealed the thoughts he had kept hidden for so long.

Since becoming Simon’s Chief Minister, Baldwin had carried a personal ambition.

He wanted to revive Legalism.

He believed the religious scholars, despite their contributions to the empire, had become too rigid to guide the nation toward genuine revival. Their attachment to established doctrines had gradually turned them into defenders of tradition rather than advocates of progress.

To Baldwin, the empire needed a different approach.

It needed laws that could be enforced consistently, officials who could be held accountable, and a government that judged policies by their results rather than by the prestige of the people who proposed them.

Legalism, in his view, could provide that foundation.

He had never dared to express these beliefs openly before.

He had worried that Simon, like most imperial nobles, regarded Azariah and its associated teachings as the unquestionable foundation of the state.

But Simon’s recent reforms had changed his assessment.

The establishment of an independent Supervisory Court and the clearer separation of judicial authority from administrative power had revealed something unusual about his lord.

Simon was willing to challenge established arrangements when he believed they stood in the way of better governance.

Perhaps, Baldwin thought, this was the opportunity he had been waiting for.

Taking a breath, he finally spoke.

"Your Highness, I suspect the Nelson family intends to pressure you into accepting its teachings as the guiding principles of your administration. They may demand that you withdraw certain policies and appoint officials who share their beliefs."

Simon listened without interrupting.

Baldwin continued.

"However, I do not believe the religious scholars are entirely without merit. Their teachings emphasise responsibility toward one’s family, one’s country, and the wider world. Their ideal of pursuing the Way even at the cost of one’s life has inspired countless people to act with courage and integrity."

He paused, his expression growing more serious.

"But their weaknesses are equally obvious. Excessive attachment to doctrine can suppress independent thought, restrict practical innovation, and turn education into the memorisation of ancient texts. When scholars begin treating established teachings as unquestionable truths, they risk becoming obstacles to the very society they claim to serve."

His eyes brightened with conviction.

"Your Highness, I propose establishing a School of Law within Oxford Academy. It would teach Legalist principles, examine the practical application of laws, and train officials capable of governing through clear regulations and consistent enforcement."

Baldwin clasped his hands.

"More importantly, I hope Brambleford can become a place where different schools of thought are permitted to develop. We could gradually restore the spirit of the ancient Hundred Schools of Thought, allowing competing ideas to challenge one another and contribute to the prosperity of the domain."

He did not explicitly ask Simon to reduce the influence of Azariah.

He did not need to.

The meaning behind his proposal was clear.

He wanted to break the religious scholars’ monopoly over education and government by giving other philosophical traditions an institutional foundation.

Simon regarded him with renewed interest.

So this was Baldwin Atwood’s true face.

The man who had spent years studying religious classics, serving in the imperial bureaucracy, and concealing his convictions beneath an acceptable exterior was, at heart, a Legalist.

And now, he was finally revealing his ambitions.

Simon could not help smiling.

He had originally wondered why Baldwin had supported so many of his reforms without displaying the hesitation common among traditional officials.

Now everything made sense.

Baldwin had not merely been obeying his orders. He had recognised an opportunity to advance his own vision of the empire.

The two men had different reasons for opposing the dominance of the religious scholars, but their immediate goals overlapped.

For Simon, the priority was practical development.

He wanted to encourage commerce, expand industry, improve education, strengthen the administration, and transform Brambleford into a domain capable of competing with the most powerful territories in the empire.

For Baldwin, the priority was to restore Legalism and establish a government that placed greater emphasis on laws, discipline, and administrative effectiveness.

Their motivations differed, but neither man wanted Brambleford to remain bound by the intellectual limitations of the old order.

And that made cooperation possible.

After a moment’s consideration, Simon spoke.

"Chief Minister Baldwin, your proposal is reasonable. Establishing a School of Law would allow Brambleford to develop its own intellectual traditions. If we truly want to revive the Hundred Schools of Thought, we cannot allow one school to monopolise education and public affairs."

Baldwin’s expression brightened.

"Your Highness agrees?"

"I do. The School of Law will be established within Oxford Academy, but it will operate independently of the Public Administration Academy."

Simon paused, then added, "Let its curriculum focus on legal theory, judicial administration, and the practical application of laws. I want students who can solve real problems, not merely recite ancient arguments."

Baldwin’s face broke into a smile.

"Your Highness is truly wise and far-sighted! I am deeply grateful for your trust."

"Don’t thank me just yet."

Simon’s smile suddenly became more meaningful.

"Once the School of Law is established, the religious scholars will undoubtedly criticise me. Some will accuse me of abandoning the empire’s traditions. Others may claim that I am undermining the moral foundations of society."

He looked directly at Baldwin.

"When that happens, I expect you to stand your ground. Don’t come running to me in a panic like a headless chicken the moment those scholars begin attacking your proposal."

Baldwin’s smile stiffened.

Then he straightened his back.

"Your Highness, I have endured criticism from the imperial court for years. I will not retreat simply because a few scholars raise their voices."

"Good. Remember that promise."

Simon nodded with satisfaction.

His approval of the School of Law was not merely a gesture of support for Baldwin. It was a calculated step toward balancing the influence of the religious establishment.

For too long, the empire’s intellectual landscape had been dominated by a single tradition. Its scholars determined what students learned, influenced which officials rose through the ranks, and shaped the principles by which policies were judged.

Even practical innovations could become controversial when they challenged established teachings.

Simon wanted to change that.

His ultimate ambition was not simply to replace one dominant philosophy with another. Nor did he intend to suppress Azariah or drive its believers from public life.

What he wanted was something far more difficult.

He wanted to change the way people thought.

He wanted scholars to examine new ideas without automatically rejecting them, officials to judge policies by their effectiveness, and students to understand that knowledge existed for more than passing examinations.

If Brambleford could nurture several competing schools of thought, it would gradually produce people capable of questioning old assumptions and finding new solutions.

Over time, those people could become the foundation of a different political and intellectual order.

However, Simon understood the danger of moving too quickly.

Azariah remained deeply rooted in the Eldorian Empire. Its influence extended far beyond the temples and schools associated with it. It was woven into the social hierarchy, the government bureaucracy, and the daily lives of ordinary people.

Simon controlled only Brambleford.

He did not possess the authority, resources, or popular support necessary to overturn the empire’s entire ideological foundation.

Attempting such a transformation overnight would be foolish.

A ruler who moved too aggressively might destroy the very stability he needed to achieve his ambitions.

Therefore, he would begin with something smaller.

He would introduce alternatives.

He would encourage practical education, establish new institutions, and allow different philosophies to compete within his domain. Rather than attacking the established order head-on, he would gradually demonstrate that other approaches could produce equally valuable, if not superior, results.

It was much like treating a serious illness.

A medicine that was too weak would accomplish nothing, but a treatment that was too aggressive could damage the patient.

The dosage had to be carefully controlled.

For now, the Hundred Schools of Thought would serve as Brambleford’s remedy.

And if Simon succeeded, the changes he introduced within his small domain might eventually spread throughout the Eldorian Empire.

After all, the greatest transformations did not always begin with armies or revolutions.

Sometimes, they began with a single school.

And sometimes, the most dangerous challenge to an ancient empire was not a rebellion against its ruler, but a new idea that made its old foundations seem less indispensable.