Lord of the Truth

Chapter 2241 Simple math

”...How much do you need, for example?” Robin asked calmly. ”Letʼs say the number of academies on our side reaches one thousand tomorrow. How much would you need for defensive expenses per year?”

His expression remained relaxed.

Almost casual.

As though he were asking about the weather.

Yet behind that simple question, countless calculations had already been completed.

He wasnʼt actually looking for Blokanʼs answer because he didnʼt know.

No... the calculation wasnʼt that difficult.

What Robin wanted was to test something.

As for the real number, he had already calculated it within a fraction of a second, using Altheraʼs academy as an example.

The Dawnlight Star Academy wasnʼt the largest academy in existence, but it certainly wasnʼt small either. Within Mid Sector 99, it had been the largest of the three major academies, and by a considerable margin.

It was large enough to serve as a reasonable benchmark.

Large enough to represent a successful academy.

Large enough to reveal how the system truly worked.

That academy housed roughly one hundred thousand students.

From those students, it collected taxes and educational fees ranging between ten thousand and fifty thousand pearls per person each year, depending on the status and wealth of their families.

The rich paid more.

The poor paid less.

The academy always collected.

Which meant that by the end of each year, Althera retained an average of three billion pearls in her capacity as the head of a Star Academy.

Three Billion.

Yet most of it never remained where it was earned.

Ninety percent of that went directly to the Throne Council.

Meaning that 2.7 billion pearls simply disappeared.

That left her with three hundred million pearls.

And according to Blokanʼs explanation, the normal practice was for an Academy Master to spend half that amount hiring armies from The Syndicate and keep the remainder for personal use.

One hundred and fifty million pearls.

That was the average amount The Syndicate received from each academy.

It was also the average amount flowing annually into the pockets of academy masters, vice-masters, and senior administrators under the old system established by Qarun.

A comfortable arrangement.

A profitable arrangement.

Most importantly...

An arrangement that rewarded selfishness.

As for Qarunʼs current system?

He had reduced the percentage he collected from academies to only eighty percent.

At first glance, that sounded insignificant.

A mere ten percent difference.

Something easy to overlook.

In reality, it was an enormous concession.

The kind of concession that could buy loyalty.

The kind of concession that could reshape incentives.

It meant that an Academy Master retained six hundred million pearls instead of three hundred million.

After paying The Syndicate its customary share of one hundred and fifty million, the Academy Master would personally keep four hundred and fifty million pearls every year instead of one hundred and fifty million.

Three times as much.

Without improving education.

Without helping students.

Without strengthening the sector.

Without contributing anything meaningful at all.

Simply because Qarun understood human nature.

Money was persuasive.

Money always had been.

Of course, these figures were only rough estimates.

Some academies had already reduced student registration fees and taxes after the appearance of the Cosmic Academies and the embarrassing educational gap between the two systems became impossible to ignore.

Competition had forced them to adapt.

At least partially.

Even so, Robin was certain of one thing.

Not a single Star Academy Master currently operating was placing less than two hundred and fifty million pearls into their pocket each year.

Some earned more.

Some earned far more.

But none earned less.

That was what kept them tied to Qarun.

That was the chain.

Not loyalty.

Not ideology.

Not tradition.

Not fear.

But money and resources.

A very expensive chain.

And one that most people wore willingly.

On the other side, the Masters of the Cosmic Academies possessed no such opportunity.

They had no control over tax revenue.

No control over tuition income.

No authority over financial surpluses.

No hidden streams of wealth.

No private arrangements.

Their salaries were approximately thirty million pearls, perhaps slightly more depending on their position and responsibilities.

Enough to live comfortably.

Enough to maintain dignity.

Nowhere near enough to compete with the temptation being offered elsewhere.

On paper, their wages appeared higher than those of the people running Star Academies.

In reality, they were poor by comparison.

Painfully poor.

The reason they had agreed to transfer over was never money.

They had joined because the Cosmic Elder had told them to.

Because their consciences had told them to.

Because they genuinely believed the Cosmic Academies represented the future.

Because they cared about the survival of the sector.

Because they cared about duty.

But everyone who possessed such a conscience had already made their choice.

That phase was over.

Those people had already crossed the line.

Only 367 academies had joined out of more than 3,000.

A miserable result.

A result that clearly revealed the limits of idealism.

The willing had already come.

The unwilling remained.

True, new Cosmic Academies continued building more educational institutions and headquarters for peacekeeping forces.

New banners appeared every year.

New campuses appeared every year.

New students enrolled every year.

Yet appearance and reality were different things.

Most of those academies lacked Law Dominators.

They lacked prestige and real influence.

Their buildings existed.

Their banners existed.

Their bureaucracies existed.

Their power did not.

The reality was that more than 2,500 Star Academies still existed throughout the universe.

And within those academies were thousands of Law Dominators.

Academy Masters.

Vice-Masters.

People who had looked at the coming crisis facing the universe...

Seen the warnings.

Heard the arguments.

Understood the danger.

And decided that money mattered more than duty.

...Robinʼs decision was aimed at those people.

At present, taxes and tuition fees were roughly double what was in the past because of the terrifying Peacekeeping Army and the immense educational value provided by the academies. Yet the limited number of enrolled students meant that the total amount of money they collected was still lower than that of an ordinary Star Academy.

The irony was almost laughable.

Their academies were better.

Their instructors were better.

Their technology was better.

Their military protection was better.

Their future was better.

And yet they earned less money and recognition.

What would happen after Robinʼs decision was implemented?

Well, The current combined cost of taxes and education was approximately one hundred thousand pearls.

Once the reform spread, it would drop to only twenty thousand pearls per year.

A figure so low that even many small planetary families would be able to afford it.

Twenty thousand pearls.

If that figure were applied to an average of one hundred thousand students per academy, the result would be two billion pearls annually.

Every single pearl of it would flow into the pockets of the Academy Master and their deputies.

And that was merely the minimum.

Robinʼs calculations did not stop there.

Once taxes were lowered to that level, enormous numbers of students would transfer from the Star Academies.

Many families currently enduring inferior education simply because it was cheaper would have no reason to remain where they were.

Even more importantly, many individuals who had never attended an academy before would suddenly become able to afford one.

Entire populations that had previously been excluded from higher education would enter the system.

Student populations would explode.

Applications would explode.

Expansion would become inevitable.

At that point, each academyʼs annual profit would rise to somewhere between five and ten billion pearls at the very least.

Possibly more in prosperous regions.

Possibly far more.

And once again...

All of it would flow into the pockets of the Law Dominators.

Compared to the two hundred and fifty million pearls they currently received under Qarunʼs system through various unofficial channels...

The difference was astronomical.

Not double.

Not triple.

Dozens of times greater.

The moment such a policy was announced, at least a thousand academies would defect to their side.

Robin was almost certain of it.

Perhaps more.

Human nature was predictable.

Especially when money was involved.

Did those Law Dominators deserve that much money?

That was the wrong question.

A completely irrelevant question.

The real question was this:

When Robin needed allies ten thousand years from now, would there be a powerful army standing behind him?

Or would there simply be mountains of wealth with nobody there to use it?

Would he rather possess loyal experts?

Or larger treasury records?

Would he rather have thousands of Law Dominators?

Or additional numbers written in accounting books?

The answer seemed obvious.

You want money?

Take it.

Take all of it.

Become rich.

Become absurdly rich.

But serve me in the way I require.

Appear when I need you to appear.

Fight when I need you to fight.

Stand where I tell you to stand.

You are greedy?

Pearl-hounds?

Fine.

Be greedy for my benefit.

Wag your tails in my direction.

The universe was filled with people motivated by ideals.

Those people had already joined him.

The remaining majority were motivated by profit.

Robin simply intended to use a different leash.

”...” A faint light appeared in Robinʼs eyes as he watched Blokan perform his calculations.

The matter really shouldnʼt have required this much time.

According to the old system, each academy needed roughly one hundred and fifty million pearls annually to maintain a respectable Peacekeeping Army composed of Syndicate mercenaries.

The figure was already known.

The framework already existed.

The only question was how much could be saved through efficiency.

If the calculation were expanded to a preliminary estimate of one thousand academies, Robin would need at least one hundred and fifty billion pearls every year to maintain the Peacekeeping Armies under the old model.

A staggering amount.

An amount capable of funding empires.

An amount capable of financing wars.

An amount that would make countless rulers hesitate.

Now all that remained was to see whether Blokan would calculate honestly...

Or whether he would attempt to sneak some personal advantage into the numbers.

Robin wasnʼt worried.

Blokan was many things.

Proud.

Stubborn.

Annoying.

But rarely dishonest.

”Itʼs an extremely fluid situation...” Blokan shook his head, a trace of tension appearing on his face. ”We arenʼt following the old system anymore, so I canʼt simply assign a fixed annual figure. We donʼt purchase slaves from The Syndicate. We build armies and fleets for every academy individually, and thatʼs precisely what makes us respectable.”

Then he continued.

”We train armies composed of users of Merged Purity Light, and we have local populations provide us with weapons, food, vehicles, and logistical support in exchange for payment, as a way of involving them directly in the mission. That was Your Excellencyʼs plan, as you know.”

Several nearby listeners nodded.

The system was expensive.

But it worked.

People protected what belonged to them.

People fought harder for causes they felt connected to.

A local population helping build an army was far less likely to betray it later.

”....” Blokan kept his gaze lowered for a moment while his mind worked at tremendous speed.

Countless variables passed through his thoughts.

The numbers shifted again and again before finally settling.

Then the answer finally stabilized.

Then he raised his head toward Robin.

”If you want to apply this system to one thousand academies...” Blokan said slowly, ”...give me one 115 billion pearls per year, and Iʼll handle the rest.”

”....?”