Indeed, it was a fine day.
Not a single cloud drifted across the sky. The sun cast a shimmering halo around itself, delicately slicing ray after ray of sunlight into colorful ribbons of silk.
The snow appeared brighter than ever, shimmering with countless densely packed points of reflected light, like crystalline fragments folding out a breathtakingly gorgeous dreamscape.
Yet, for those who lived upon the snowy plains, this could hardly be considered good weather—
The light reflected from the snow was cold. The snow blanketing the entire expanse greedily absorbed the sunlight spilling down from above, melting into water before sinking back into the snow and refreezing into ice. And once the snow thawed, the ground turned into a muddy mire, soon littered with countless dark footprints. Slipping and stumbling every couple of steps was trial enough to test anyone's patience.
Therefore, as the crowd hoisted a large iron pot onto a makeshift stone stove, nearly everyone was busy shoveling snow.
"Hey—!"
The shout drew the attention of many.
"Listen up, fathers, elders, brothers, sisters, children, and comrades of the Reunion Movement—! Lend a hand—! Take advantage of the good weather to get a proper bath—!"
The word "bath" had not graced people's ears for a very long time.
Such luxuries were usually reserved for the quiet periods between farm work, and even then, family members simply scrubbed each other down and called it done.
Opportunities to completely release the weight from one's shoulders were rare indeed. But now, having entered the agricultural lull of October, no one was about to let slip such a prime opportunity for thorough relaxation.
Moreover, on the very first day of their arrival, the Reunion Movement had constructed houses and successfully repelled a pack of Rift Beasts. If not for them, the entire Churvik Village might well have been erased from this land by the previous night.
Though it was the work of the Reunion Movement, it certainly didn't stop the villagers from using the meat from those Rift Beasts to prepare a genuine welcoming feast for them that evening.
Just in time, the wheat had been harvested, the grain taxes had been paid off, and for the moment, there were no troublesome distractions expected for the remainder of the half-year.
While it couldn't compare to the grand bathhouses in the cities known as "Ursus traps," the urgent physical need for relaxation and the acceptance of the Reunion Movement led everyone to join together in this carnival.
……
Filling a large basin with piping hot water from the grand pot, pouring it into a wooden barrel, carrying it back home thanks to its excellent insulation properties, and soaking in a glorious hot bath—this was the ordinary yet effective way Ursus people sought relaxation.
Setting down his ice axe and shedding his clothes, Sergei slipped into his bathing barrel. Though his body and posture felt thoroughly comfortable, his mind could not stop racing with a barrage of questions.
*(Note: Inevitably, limitations in one's field of vision will cause constraints in thought here.)*
The Reunion Movement was far too lax...
Whether for an individual or an organization, this was a fatal flaw.
The establishment of a system was imperative, and it had to be pushed forward with unwavering determination. Precedents of privilege could not be tolerated; this framework would be applied to every single member of the Reunion Movement—history from dynasty after dynasty had long since proven this truth.
Yet, what kind of system should they adopt?
The drawbacks of the existing Ursus system had been laid bare for all to see with utter frankness, and the internal chaos within Victoria only served to corroborate this fact.
Yan remained closed off behind closed doors, while East Country, which shared a similar system, was locked in endless civil war over so-called "orthodoxy."
Kazimierz... Sergei genuinely could not discern any political system to speak of there. Perhaps the power of capital had already rotted them to the core.
...None of them would work, then?
What about judging by superiority, then?
The absolute monarchy and feudal fiefdom systems of Ursus and Victoria had indeed served to maintain internal stability among the upper echelons of the state, but the oppression suffered by the common people could not be overlooked. Furthermore, Victoria's parliamentary system practically slowed down its administrative pace, weakened its administrative efficacy, and created a disconnect between power and responsibility, while internal decentralization had ultimately led to civil war as conflicts gradually intensified. This was nothing more than a group of politicians clumsily implementing the merits of decentralization in an unrealistic manner.
As an Ursus tax official, Sergei likely had a stronger right to speak within the Reunion Movement than Talulah regarding the depths of internal corruption in Ursus, the exploitation of the lower classes, and the infighting among the nobility.
Although the absolute monarchies of Yan and East Country were indeed capable of concentrating their strength to accomplish major tasks, they faced severe threats stemming from coercive force and the ideologies of their supreme leaders. The moment they made a single misstep, everything would collapse like a domino effect, and the resulting culture of sycophancy would cause corruption to run rampant. Back then, the Second True Dragon's God-Slaying War in Yan had established the nation's formidable reputation internationally, but it had also plunged Yan into a prolonged slump, which subsequently allowed East Country separatist forces to succeed and Ursus to exploit the opening.
Kazimierz's capitalist system could stimulate industrialization and marketization, and marketization could further stimulate foreign capital investment and the establishment of factories. Yet, its populace remained lost in drunken stupors, the oppression endured by the lower classes intensified rather than diminished, and the infighting among capitalists devoured the very last shreds of flesh and blood generated by the labor of the people. Moreover, the government was heavily controlled by major capital, inevitably evolving into a trajectory resembling that of Victoria.
Columbia resembled an early-stage Kazimierz even more. As an emerging capitalist superpower, it was outperforming Kazimierz—whose national strength was thin and lopsided in a single direction—in the competition of comprehensive national power. Eventually... according to Sergei's deductions, the competition of national power would lead to a massive surge in industrial productivity driven by cutting-edge technology, ultimately allowing them to seize pricing power across all industries. The resulting capitalist invasions and the annexation of peer and non-peer industries alike would inevitably exacerbate the intensification of conflicts...
Iberia was far too backward. Following the "Great Silence," its system had practically ceased to exist, and its administrative apparatus was nearly paralyzed. Its current survival relied primarily on military centralization and capital injections provided by other nations out of certain strategic considerations, and its economy had yet to recover to this day.
Sargon... Just like Ursus, skipped.
Sami... Too primitive, skipped.
Kazdel... Regarding this legendary nation, the most frequent legends heard were whispers of the "Witch King" and the like. Setting aside so-called "Kazazel witchcraft," it was likely nothing more than a run-of-the-mill feudal absolute monarchy at best, skipped.
Aegir... Too little data, skipped.
"*Ursus profanity*... Why won't any of them work..."
The more he thought, the more despairing he felt.
The futures of all existing systems on this land were constrained by the flaws of their respective classes and institutions, ultimately sinking hopelessly into layers of mire from which they could not extricate themselves.
Ironically, this demonstrated precisely that these paths could not be walked.
Then how were they supposed to proceed?
Sergei suddenly realized the unique nature of the Reunion Movement.
And having recognized that this was a path untrod, they could only resort to trial and error, step by step.
Before that, let's first summarize why things had turned out this way.
Unbeknownst to him, his ears had slowly folded back flat like an airplane's wings, and his Feline tail was restlessly whipping back and forth in the barrel, stirring up ripples.
"Hey, Sergei, what are your thoughts right now?"
Startled by the sudden intrusion, Sergei gave a violent start, the pair of Feline ears atop his head springing up in high alert.
Turning his head, he saw it was actually Charles and Ivan, which allowed him to finally relax his entire body, though his ears remained flattened.
"I was... thinking about our future."
"*Ursus profanity*, what's there to think about? Just get through the present first! Think too much, and it loses all meaning!"
Ivan said heartily, his arm even reaching out as if to wrap it around Sergei's shoulder, only to be slapped away with an expression of disgust by the latter.
"I can't afford not to think this much... Our path dictates our uniqueness. And so, in my view, the systems of various nations..."
Sergei poured out everything he had just been pondering.
Charles lay in his bathing tub, his ear-feathers twitching with every single word Sergei spoke.
Finally, after listening earnestly to Sergei's reflections, he spoke up eagerly:
"University students sure think a lot, and you make sense, too. But have you ever been a farmer?"
Sergei shook his head.
"I, however, come from a farming background..."
"——Hey, on this point I actually have more right to speak than you guys."
Ivan hijacked the conversation—he had started thinking along the same lines as well.
The method of exemplification often reflected more universal realities, yet these realities were rarely discovered very quickly.
"Although I used to be an old Infected Inspectorate, I started out as a farmer myself before getting into the inspectorate thanks to a friend in the city. Thinking about it now, I've stumbled upon a problem."
"What is it?"
Ivan rested his arms on the edge of the wooden tub, generously displaying the scars on his body and arms while settling into an even more comfortable posture.
"Farmers—especially us farmers in northern Ursus, leaving aside taxation entirely—or even considering only normal taxation, farming the land for a single year is entirely sufficient to feed ourselves."
Sergei thought for a moment, mentally reviewing the various financial reports he had handled, and nodded.
"Then, society inevitably produces people who detach themselves from agricultural production. To sustain these individuals, we farmers are forced to clear more land and sow more crops."
"Produce more grain?"
"Right. Yet at the end of the year, that grain doesn't belong to us, and in the first place, we had no real need to grow all of it."
"Hence the emergence of taxes and tax collectors."
"Exactly! And given what you already know about the situation in Ursus as an insider compared to us ordinary folks, where on earth is there no corruption and graft? The land I plowed for a whole year ends up... starving... my old mother..."
Hearing the tone and emotion in Ivan's voice begin to warp uncomfortably, Sergei and Charles both looked startled and hurriedly offered words of comfort:
"I'm in the same boat as you. My sister practically sacrificed herself to protect me amidst the outrageous corruption in Ursus, and now I'm getting close to forgetting what she even looked like..."
"Ah, I'm pretty much the same. During a famine year when my old man couldn't go on living, he sold my little sister—I only found out about it later—and even pawned off my mother..."
What should have been a pleasant, small-scale brainstorming session instantly transformed into a grievance-airing meeting.
The common ailments and resonances of the lower classes often reflected the deepest layers of social reality.
Sergei eventually steered the conversation back on track:
"We've all had rather similar experiences, and this phenomenon is quite common among our backgrounds. Now that we've vented our frustrations, we might as well think about why this happens. Our goal goes far beyond aimlessly wandering the snowy plains to rescue the Infected wherever possible; we must build a brand-new system."
To build a brand-new system...
It was far too ambitious.
Still, man proposes, heaven disposes.
The Reunion Movement needed a goal; on this point, the three of them had grown crystal clear through long and bitter struggles.
Seeing that both of them had put aside their joking mindset and begun to think earnestly, Sergei climbed out of the bathing barrel first, pulled a green scrubbing towel from his bag, wrung it out, and began rubbing himself down.
"Who's first?"
"*Ursus profanity*, you actually brought this thing with you?"
"I specifically swapped for it last time. At least a proper scrub makes you feel comfortable, which is good for production, daily life, and thinking."
"Fine."
Ivan crawled out of the bathing barrel next, then leaned his upper body over the rim.
"You're sweeping the floor later."
"Deal."
Planting his stance firmly and layering his hands over one another, Sergei began vigorously scrubbing down Ivan's back, speaking as he rubbed:
"The actual burdens placed on farmers are numerous, so heavy they've reached a certain extreme. Poor peasants have no land, so they can only go work as tenant farmers for landlords. From the beginning of the year to the end, forget about eating a single meal of meat; even keeping their wives and children fed is a struggle, and that's assuming the absolute best-case scenario for a family of three."
"Indeed. To keep them fed—how other villages handled it, I don't know, but in our village, we relied on those wealthy landlords lending us money. Usury schemes that demand ten back for every nine lent out are considered merciful. Failing to repay a loan isn't something settled by just taking a kick; the debt collectors will slam you right into Originium fragments to turn you into an Infected, and then sell you off as slave labor to the mines in this lord's territory or that lord's domain, making a huge profit all at once."
"……*Ursus profanity*, that land..."
"If you drop dead, don't you still have a wife and kids? Either they get marked and turned into Infected to be sold off to the mines just like you, or they get raised as child brides or indentured laborers. Those people have far more ways of devouring human flesh than you could ever imagine! Thank goodness we made it to Churvik Village and managed to hold our ground under the leader's divine might, otherwise we'd have been packed off to the mines as slave labor long ago!"
"……"
Sergei suddenly understood why his team leader frequently had him sign off on completely unrelated documents.
Were those damn things unrelated?
Every single word on those papers was soaked in human lives and blood!
Reality delivered yet another heavy blow to the head, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.
Sergei felt a suffocating heaviness churn deep within his chest.
He drew in a deep breath.
The warm steam, accompanied by hot air, entered his body, sinking all the way down to his abdomen before he slowly exhaled it in a long breath.
The lingering droplets of water on his skin left him feeling chilled, though this wave of warmth managed to take off the edge while expelling his vexed mood in that extended sigh.
He preferred to maintain his composure while thinking.
Emotional interference would inevitably distort subjective thought, preventing it from conforming to objective facts and laws—a perilous state of affairs indeed.
This point had been heavily emphasized time and again in the preface of *Classical Lateranian Historical Materialist Philosophy*.
"……"