Joseph raised the booklet towards Joy, “You don’t have to worry about this, I believe the rumors will soon subside.”
“Right, your report also mentioned something about the tribes of Tunisia?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Upon hearing the word “tribes,” a look of gloom appeared on Joy’s face, “Because during the last major uprising, the tribes of Tunisia all sent out warriors, so they each claim they had a part in driving away the Imperial Guard and thus believe the government should give them generous treatment…
“Put simply, the larger tribes are not very proactive in enforcing government orders, and they even fall behind on their taxes.”
Joseph knew he was putting it mildly, in reality, the indigenous tribes were disobedient and not paying taxes.
This was not surprising, not to mention the 18th century, even in 21st-century Africa, there are still a large number of tribes that operate independently with the government having no control over them whatsoever.
He asked Joy, “About how many of these tribes are there?”
“There are at least a hundred…” He hesitated for a moment but decided to reveal the truth, “In fact, only those small tribes with a few hundred people are very cooperative with the government.”
Joseph couldn’t help but frown; it seemed this was a widespread phenomenon. This attitude needed to be curbed as soon as possible, because the longer it dragged on, the more these tribes would get used to it and be harder to manage.
Isaac suggested from the side, “Your Highness, perhaps we could pick a few tribes that are most severely behind on their taxes and send the military to punish them.”
Joseph shook his head. At a time when somebody was waging a cognitive war of hostilities against France, attacking indigenous tribes with the military would only be aiding the enemy, wouldn’t it?
Moreover, his grand goal was to assimilate Tunisia, not simply treat it as a colony, so it was better to reduce conflicts as much as possible.
After pondering for a while and unable to come up with a good solution, he sighed. After all, one eats a meal one bite at a time, so he might as well deal with the more manageable cognitive war first.
He then looked at Joy, “Please find me Tunisia’s best writers, and, hmm, several of them.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Mr. Xilada is actually a very good writer.”
Joseph nodded; the same Mr. Xilada had written “Analysis of the Origins of Tunisia,” an old acquaintance.
He further instructed, “Also, please begin preparations for the Tunisian regional competition of the Star of France. Oh, you’ve heard of the Star of France, haven’t you?”
“I have heard of it, Your Highness, I read the newspapers from Paris carefully every week. In fact, I pay great attention to that grand event; my two sons even competed, and my eldest son advanced two rounds in the Berry district.”
“That’s wonderful. If you’re unclear about any details regarding the preparations, feel free to ask me at any time.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The next day at noon, Xilada, who served as an administrative official inside Tunis City, and two other writers came to the villa where Joseph resided.
Having been to the Palace of Versailles, Xilada was thrilled to see that the person before him was the Crown Prince and hurried forward to bow respectfully, speaking in perfect French, “Honorable Crown Prince, your presence truly brings radiance to the entire City of Tunis, making the song of angels echo in the ears of every person within the city…”
Joseph thought to himself that it was no wonder he was a writer, with his flattery flowing as smoothly as drifting clouds and flowing water. He then smiled, interrupted him, and gestured toward the carpet: “Please, take a seat.”
After a few people sat down properly on the wool carpet, Joseph had some coffee brought over and then got down to business, “In fact, I’ve asked you all here because I need your help to turn a great legendary story into a novel, or… a historical essay could work as well.”
Xilada skillfully took out paper and pen and nodded earnestly, “Please tell us the main content of this legend.”
Joseph had organized his thoughts the night before, and now he spoke eloquently, “Long ago, on the vast Eurasian continent there were various ethnic groups, including the French, Arab descendants of Tunisia, Berber Tunisians, as well as the wicked Ottoman People and the cunning British…”
“Back then, the Grand Mage of the Ottomans, Sofon, had forged a magic ring filled with magical powers, known as ‘the Magic Ring,’ which was used to conquer the rich Roman Empire. However, due to the Magic Ring’s immense power, Sofon was consumed by it, and the Magic Ring came to rest in some corner of the continent…” Explore more adventures at empire
“It was only many years later that a Berber named Froy accidentally came into possession of the Magic Ring and learned that he must travel to Constantinople and cast the Magic Ring into the volcano there to destroy it, in order to save the Roman Empire…”
“The Magic Ring possessed a seductive magic, and only Froy could resist this power. With the help of numerous brave French and skilled Tunisian Arab archers, he repeatedly thwarted the sieges of the Ottoman People and their British allies…”
The story was magnificently grand, filled with a heroic and romantic air; so much so that Xilada and the others forgot to take notes.
It wasn’t until twilight fell that Joseph finished telling the tale of how Froy successfully destroyed the Magic Ring and his friends became the greatest heroes of the Roman Empire. At this point, several Tunisian writers were simultaneously moved to tears, “Praise our great Rome!”
“As long as Roman compatriots unite, they can overcome all evil!”
“So our ancestors had such legendary experiences…”
Xilada seriously assured Joseph with a hand over his heart, “Your Highness, I will ensure this part of history shines with the glory it deserves! I will make the world sing praises of this touching epic!”
He practically and without hesitation defined the story Joseph told as history, completely disregarding the rampant magic within it. Perhaps this was the fervor of a convert.
The writers skipped dinner and went straight to the second floor of the villa to start writing furiously. Within just three days, they had written a lengthy volume of nearly twenty thousand words titled “The Ring King: Roman Marvels.”
Joseph roughly read through the manuscript, which covered about the first half of Volume One, then instructed Eman to hand it over to Joy and to start printing immediately.
Joy’s side also moved swiftly, and just a day and a half later, the first batch of manuscripts were distributed throughout Tunisia. Additionally, in order to spread the “epic” to Tunisians who were illiterate, he commanded local officials to have people recite the manuscript aloud on the streets.
Public opinion was almost instantly unanimous.
Practically everyone in Tunisia was discussing the adventures of Froy and his companions, proudly speaking of their own ancestors’ bravery, recounting the thrilling moments on the battlefield, and even beginning to dress up as characters from the book.
Anyone who dared say something like “Tunisians have nothing to do with Rome” would immediately be mobbed by passersby—daring to deny that my ancestor was a hero who escorted the ring? Denying that I am a descendant of the great Rome? Who else but you deserves a beating!
As subsequent volumes of “The Ring King” continued to be published, Tunisian society once again erupted in torrents of lashing and curses at the villainous Ottomans and English.
Afterward, two British spies, who had concocted rumors that “Tunisians have nothing to do with Rome,” were caught. These two had previously paid Tunisian accomplices to spread the rumors, but, inspired by their ancestor Froy, the accomplices didn’t even want their payment and ran to the police to confess, implicating the two spies.