Chapter 157: Calamity and Talent 1

A calamity is, by definition, an unforeseeable crisis that strikes unexpectedly.

It can shatter the established daily routines in an instant, plunging countless lives into ruin and despair.

And in this moment, the Holy Imperium…

No, more precisely, the entire central-western region of the continent began to groan under the weight of an unforeseen ‘calamity.’

Miller, an Imperial farmer residing in the Palatinate region.

His life was one of utter monotony – beginning with tilling the fields, and ending with tilling the fields.

From birth, he had plowed the land, and he was certain this would continue until his dying day.

However, regardless of how others perceived it, Miller found simple contentment in this life.

Plowing the fields and using the harvested crops to feed himself and his family.

That was the sole fulfillment and joy he derived from his monotonous existence – his humble interpretation of life’s meaning.

Yet…

Miller’s life, which he had assumed would continue its mundane course, unexpectedly took a drastic turn one day.

The weather that year was strangely abnormal.

Rain did not fall when it should have, yet poured excessively during periods when it was unneeded.

For Miller, a lifelong farmer, these extreme weather fluctuations were unprecedented.

Witnessing them, he could predict a poor harvest, yet there was nothing he could do.

The farmers, Miller included, had informed their superiors of the grave situation.

However, Lord Maximilian, who had assumed rulership after Friedrich’s departure, did not consider these changes particularly significant.

His reaction was one of dismissal – making a fuss over mere capricious weather. He instructed them to stop worrying and simply return to their tasks.

Unlike the land-bound farmers, his mind was already preoccupied with matters of war and politics, leaving no room for such trivialities.

Thus, Miller and the other farmers found themselves utterly unprepared for the calamity unfolding before their eyes.

And…

This phenomenon was not limited to Miller’s Palatinate region, but was occurring commonly throughout the Holy Imperium and its neighboring territories.

Sensing the abnormality in the abruptly altered climate, farmers had appealed to their superiors for countermeasures, but few showed any interest.

On the surface, it could be interpreted as sheer negligence on the part of the lords and nobles. However, a closer examination revealed a more nuanced reality.

From the outset, most nobles – far removed from agricultural toils – struggled to comprehend the dire implications of subtle climatic shifts.

To them, it amounted to merely a month’s delay in rainfall or an extra month of sunshine – minor deviations barely registering as significant.

Unless overt calamities like hurricanes or floods manifested, grasping those subtle yet grave nuances proved immensely difficult.

Simultaneously, they lacked the capacity to foresee the potential consequences.

Moreover, even if they grasped the gravity to some degree, the lords had little leeway to prioritize such matters amidst the current circumstances.

The Holy Imperium was embroiled in a large-scale conflict, split between the Heretical Alliance and the Imperial forces. Surrounding nations watched intently, poised to seize any opportunities for gain.

Consumed by the colossal political and religious upheaval, the lords could scarcely spare attention for reports of peculiar weather patterns.

And…

This negligence – or complacency – on the part of the lords ultimately culminated in the very scenario one man had foreseen.

The signs of upheaval were recognized far too late.

With no countermeasures in place, they merely witnessed the aftermath once everything had concluded.

And that aftermath wrought an entirely unanticipated consequence upon the masses.

“What nonsense is this? A famine?”

Emperor Sigismund, seated upon his throne amid discussions of the impending war, voiced his bewilderment at the sudden report.

“Yes, Your Majesty… Reports indicate this year’s harvest has fallen below half the usual yield.”

“Preposterous… What in heaven’s name could be the reason? Are you telling me those peasant farmers have been neglecting their duties?”

“N-No, that is not the case, but… The weather has been somewhat…”

“The weather?! What about the weather? From what I’ve heard, there were no major hurricanes or floods anywhere this year. In such circumstances, how can the weather be blamed?!”

Anger laced Sigismund’s words.

Though his vassal attempted to explain the nuanced impact of weather variations on crop yields, Sigismund had no interest – nor comprehension – for such trivial matters in that moment.

His mind was consumed solely by politics and religion, leaving no room for peripheral concerns related to agriculture.

“This is undoubtedly a conspiracy by the lords to defy my will. They are deliberately underreporting the harvests to line their own pockets. Taking advantage of the nation’s strained circumstances due to this war, they are lashing out to avoid contributing their share.”

“Is…Is that so…?”

“What is that tone? Do you dare suggest I am mistaken?”

“N-No, not at all… It simply exceeds my limited understanding, Your Majesty.”

Unable to refute the Emperor, the vassal could only trail off meekly.

Observing this, Sigismund slowly shook his head, inwardly mocking the man’s foolishness.

‘Is that the best he can muster? Truly regrettable that more capable men are in such short supply.’

Rather than attributing it to climate-induced crop failure, Sigismund interpreted the situation through an overtly political lens.

However, he had his own grounds for this perspective.

Unlike the large-scale famines afflicting other regions, the harvest in Vienna – effectively his domain – showed little deviation from previous years.

As the deepest inland territory of the Imperium, Vienna had been the least affected.

Moreover, the overall Imperial situation lent itself to the Emperor’s suspicions.

From his vantage, it appeared as if rebel forces defying his will had emerged and were expanding their influence, casting an ominous pall across the realm’s future.

Under such circumstances, with the toll of ongoing and impending wars, it was only natural for the Imperial lords to tighten their belts.

With ample grounds for skepticism, the Emperor arrived at the conclusion he deemed correct:

The decreased harvests did not truly exist – it was merely a ploy by the lords to line their pockets.

‘To audaciously mock me with such schemes… And then demand support due to the dire situation? These wretches must view the Emperor as a fool to attempt such insolence.’

Thus, the Emperor seethed with outrage over the perceived situation.

Yet even so, he maintained a semblance of pragmatism.

‘As tempting as it is to simply dispose of these fools, rash actions during such fraught times would be folly… There are proper methods to address such matters.’