1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 180 The Gold Mine Under the Black Robe

The cheers in Athens lasted for three whole days.

The aftershocks of the land reform bill, like a warm ocean current, flowed through every corner of Greece. Farmers gained land, workers saw hope, and Constantine's popularity reached an unprecedented peak in the hearts of the people.

Inside the royal study, the atmosphere was completely different from the jubilation outside.

The flames flickered in the fireplace, illuminating the Chancellor's face, paler than paper. He wore reading glasses, his fingertips trembling as he typed on a newly released national financial report. The report, densely packed with numbers, formed a menacing, bottomless crimson vortex.

"Your Highness, our national treasury... is empty."

The Chancellor's voice was hoarse and dry, like the wind blowing through the desert.

"To buy back those lands, we issued nearly 200 million drachmas worth of 30-year land bonds. This money will be like a noose around the neck of the national treasury for the next 30 years."

He took off his glasses and rubbed his temples wearily.

"We won the land and the hearts of the people, but we also lost fiscal autonomy for the next decade. Any prolonged war or any natural disaster during this period could completely collapse our fiscal system."

Constantine did not read the report.

He stood by the window, gazing down at Athens in the night. The city lights stretched out in a continuous expanse, more dazzling than ever before. He could imagine how many families behind those lit windows were dreaming of the wonderful life they would have after owning their own land.

"Minister, what we bought was not land."

Constantine turned around, his gaze calm as still water.

"What we bought was the foundation of a nation and the absolute loyalty of millions of its citizens to this kingdom. This deal was more than worth it."

The Chancellor of the Exchequer opened his mouth, but could only let out a long sigh. As the nation's accountant, he could not find solace in grand narratives like the prince. He saw only a riddled ledger and a state machine that could break down at any moment.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the study door.

Alexandros walked in, holding a letter in his hands, his expression somewhat peculiar.

"Your Highness, a letter from Thessaly. The messenger is a farmer who has just acquired land. He walked for more than ten days and insisted on delivering this letter to you personally."

Constantine was somewhat surprised as he took the letter.

The envelope was made of the roughest straw paper, and the letter paper was even worse, with curled edges and marks of dirt on it.

He unfolded the letter, and a smell mixed with the scent of sweat and sunshine wafted out.

The handwriting on the letter was crooked and messy, like a child's scribbles; many words were misspelled, and the grammar was a mess. But every word seemed to be deeply engraved on the paper with all the strength of its being.

Your Highness:

We have land. I, my son, and my son's son, finally no longer have to kneel before anyone. We thank you as we thank God.

But, Your Highness, we have land, yet we don't know how to make it grow more crops. A merchant from town came to buy our olives, but we couldn't understand the prices he quoted. We signed the contract, only to later discover that the price he offered was half that of the neighboring village.

My child, he can't read. He's like me when I was young, one blind, one deaf. He can't understand the glorious deeds you've written in the newspapers, nor can he calculate how much he's owed.

Your Highness, you have given us physical sustenance, enabling us to stand up. We beg you, as you have given us land, to bring light to our children. Let them read, write, understand contracts, and become… truly human beings.

Your humble servant, Thessaly, Spyros village, Heristos.

After reading the letter, Constantine remained silent for a long time.

The Chancellor of the Exchequer came closer, looking at the simple, even clumsy, handwriting on the letter with a complex expression.

This letter is more powerful than any financial report. It points to a deeper crisis: a nation composed of illiterate people, even if everyone owns land, will ultimately become lambs to be harvested at will by the intellectual elite.

Land reform only liberated their bodies.

Their minds remain imprisoned in the cage of ignorance.

Constantine carefully folded the letter and placed it in his breast pocket, close to his heart.

That evening, when Crown Princess Sofia entered the study, she saw Constantine standing in front of a huge map of Greece, sketching something on it with a pen.

"I read Christos's letter," Sophia said softly. "It lets me know that our cause has only just begun."

"Yes, Sophia." Constantine didn't turn around. "Land reform only gave Greece a strong body. But this body still needs a matching, clear-headed and intelligent mind."

He turned around and showed his idea to his wife.

It was a grand, breathtaking blueprint.

A brand new, standardized national education system covering the entire territory of Greece.

From the most remote mountain villages to the most bustling ports, every Greek child, regardless of gender or wealth, must receive at least three years of free compulsory education. The state will provide standardized school construction, textbook printing, and teacher training.

"I want every Greek to be able to pronounce the word 'Greece' aloud and to be able to write their own name with their own hands!" Constantine's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a power that could shake mountains.

Sofia stared at the dense red dots on the map, each dot representing a future school. She was awestruck by her husband's ambition, but she also knew better than anyone the harsh reality.

"My dear, this is a magnificent plan." She walked to Constantine's side, her slender fingers tracing the cold surface of the map. "But we face two fundamental problems."

"First, money. Building thousands of schools and printing millions of textbooks requires an astronomical sum of money. Our national treasury is almost full of money to pay officials' salaries next month."

"Secondly, people. Even if we magically conjure up money, where will we find tens of thousands of qualified teachers? All the graduates of the University of Athens combined wouldn't be enough to fill the gap in one region."

Sophia's words were like two buckets of ice water poured on the raging flames of idealism.

These are indeed two unavoidable problems.

Constantine fell silent. He turned back to the enormous map of Greece.

On the map, besides the red dots he had just marked representing schools, there were many other symbols that had been there before, marked with black crosses. Those symbols represented Orthodox monasteries and churches, scattered like stars throughout every corner of Greece, occupying the most fertile lands, enjoying tax-free privileges, and possessing supreme authority in the spiritual world of the people.

Constantine's gaze slowly swept over the black crosses.

Finally, his finger landed heavily on the location of the Patras diocese, the stronghold of Bishop Yermanos, the leader of the conservative faction.

"No, Sophia, we do."

His voice calmed down, but carried a metallic, cold quality.

"Greece's largest 'gold mine' and largest 'human resource pool' are hidden beneath that black priest's robe."

"Ah!" Sophia exclaimed, realizing what her husband meant.

A cold smile tugged at the corner of Constantine's mouth.

"They have enjoyed offerings and the worship of the people for nearly a thousand years. Now, it's time for them to do something truly useful for God's people!"

He knew very well that asking the church for money directly was tantamount to asking a tiger for its skin. He needed a sharp enough axe, one that could split this ancient, stubborn rock from the inside.

He walked to his desk and rang the bell to summon his servants.

Alexandros silently pushed open the door and entered.

"Alexandros".

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Arrange a secret meeting." Constantine's gaze drifted out the window towards the distant Athos Peninsula, known as the "Holy Mountain."

"I want to see that 'Lion of the Holy Mountain' again."

"This time, I want him to declare war on the entire church for me."