Chapter 105

Chapter 105: Social Gathering Party. (3)

At Medeia’s words, everyone held their breath.

Faces filled with astonishment, as if they had seen a unicorn or a creature from a myth.

‘I saw her in the journal… That has to be the Princess.’

‘My goodness, she’s even more beautiful in person than in the portraits.’

While everyone stared without even blinking, Medeia continued speaking.

“Today’s gathering is to celebrate the opening of the Daphne Viscounty’s trading port. It’s also a farewell party to commemorate my departure to the northern front, as the port’s greatest investor.”

“…A farewell party?”

“So that’s what this is.”

Just as the murmuring in the crowd began to grow louder, Medeia opened her mouth again, drawing everyone’s attention back to her.

“To all of you who’ve come here for me, and for Daphne—I express my gratitude. In honor of that, let us all fill our glasses. Before the party truly begins… let us toast.”

“Ah…”

Everyone hurriedly reached for their glasses and filled them.

Lifting the glass she held, Medeia spoke.

“To the Daphne Viscounty.”

Then she nodded toward Viscount Cobalt.

Viscount Cobalt quickly raised his glass higher and shouted.

“For Princess Medeia’s good fortune!”

At that, Medeia clinked her glass against Viscount Cobalt’s and drank it in one go.

By the time everyone followed her lead and drank their own, starting with Viscount Cobalt—

Medeia placed her empty glass on the table and spoke.

“Benjamin, hand it over.”

“Yes. Here it is.”

Benjamin then took a sword from his coat and handed it over, scabbard and all.

“What’s that?”

“A sword?”

Just as everyone looked on with puzzled eyes—

Medeia calmly said,

“Viscount Cobalt. Kneel.”

“Ah… Yes!”

As Viscount Cobalt knelt and bowed his head, Medeia grasped the sword in both hands and said,

“This sword is the work of Kiehl, the dwarven master artisan. It was crafted specially to commemorate today.”

“Kiehl? That famous craftsman?”

“It’s my first time seeing one of his works in person.”

She’s giving such an incredible weapon… to a mere viscount?

The party stirred in surprise, and Medeia looked at Viscount Cobalt and continued.

“In celebration of the port’s opening, and to affirm the friendship between Daphne and myself, I wish to bestow this sword… to you.”

“…It is an honor.”

Medeia then extended the sword forward.

“…”

Viscount Cobalt stretched out his arms and carefully accepted the sword.

Everyone watching that moment could tell.

‘The Princess… is paying considerable attention to this family.’

‘So there really is something going on.’

That this social party was not a simple gathering.

That she, a royal and descendant of the Sun God Faeron, was holding this remote family in special regard.

And that naturally led to the next thought.

‘It might not be a bad idea to move the merchant fleet’s docking port here.’

‘Might as well get in line early. If things go well, we might even forge a connection with the royal family…’

Unless it was near the Imperial Capital or one of the Seven Great Houses’ domains—

There wasn’t a soul here unfamiliar with what the presence of royalty meant in a remote region like this.

It was then.

Clap, clap, clap!

Hardin clapped his hands vigorously with a smile.

And then...

“Princess, I wish you good fortune!”

“Congratulations, my Lord!”

Manton and Beryl, who had been standing in the back, joined in with applause.

And with that as the spark—

“Congratulations on the port opening!”

“Best of luck!”

Applause and words of celebration poured out from all directions.

“Congratulations!”

“My heartfelt congratulations!”

It felt as though the whole world had been filled with applause.

‘This… isn’t a dream?’

Right in the middle of it, Viscount Cobalt stood up and looked around with a dazed expression.

‘So this is all going according to your plan, huh?’

Princess Medeia, who had been watching all of it, placed her hand on her hip and locked eyes with Hardin.

And in response…

‘Yeah. Well done, you brat.’

Hardin answered with nothing more than a faint smile curling up at the corner of his lips.

Of course… this was only the beginning. The first button had just been fastened.

---

Inside the bustling party hall.

The sun had begun to set, casting an orange glow over the sea, and as the guests grew increasingly drunk, their voices grew louder.

“If I had known you were such a fine man, Viscount Cobalt, I would have visited much sooner!”

“Ha ha, there’s always time to visit more in the future, isn’t there?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Surrounded by people, Viscount Cobalt greeted them with a kindly smile.

Though he had drunk quite a bit, he remained perfectly composed, a sharp contrast to the drunken guests.

Viscount Cobalt took a sip of his drink and scanned the hall.

‘Hmm…’

Malion and the retainers of the house were mingling with the guests, laughing and chatting joyfully.

“Wahahaha! Kkhhh, I feel great!”

“My Lord Baron, you’re too drunk. Please, come rest over here.”

“Drunk? We’re just getting started!”

The knights on guard quickly restrained any guests who got too excited from the alcohol, ensuring the atmosphere didn’t sour.

‘Everything’s going smoothly.’

Viscount Cobalt let out a small sigh of relief.

As he scanned the hall, his gaze caught on one spot.

“Uuugh… Yeah, yeah. Training? If you ask how I did it, well…”

“Don’t dodge the question… Answer properly.”

“You just keep going. Until you die.”

In one corner of the party hall—

Princess Medeia and Hardin were talking over drinks.

A light smile lingered on Hardin’s face, and Princess Medeia was speaking quite a bit as well.

‘Hardin.’

Just as Viscount Cobalt watched with a pleased expression—

he continued looking on warmly.

"Excuse me, Viscount Cobalt?"

"Hmm? You are…"

As he turned his head, he spotted a familiar face.

A man with a monocle over one eye and a long, pointed beard.

It was Chairman Bezar of the Red Ear Merchant Guild.

"You attended the party, Chairman Bezar."

"Haha… yes, well. I ended up here somehow."

An awkward smile appeared on his face.

"Is there something you'd like to discuss?"

"Ah, yes. About that contract matter I mentioned before… I wanted to talk to you about it."

"The contract… Are you referring to the port usage rights?"

"Yes, yes, that’s right."

"But I was under the impression you weren’t interested in that matter."

Bezar scratched his cheek with an embarrassed expression as he replied.

"Heh, well, I’ve had a bit of a change of heart. Would it… perhaps still be possible to sign the contract? Ah, and of course, I won’t be negotiating the price down this time, so you don’t need to worry."

At that moment, a small furrow formed between Viscount Cobalt’s brows.

‘A change of heart, huh.’

Glancing sideways—

He saw Chairman Bezar stealing looks toward Princess Medeia.

‘How shallow.’

Viscount Cobalt quickly relaxed his expression and responded with a faint smile.

"Haha, of course, it’s possible."

"Oh, truly?"

"Yes, if you’re offering full price, there’s no reason it can’t be done."

"Then let’s proceed with the contract right away—"

"Ah, please calm down. This matter isn’t under my authority, you see."

"What? What do you mean by that…?"

Viscount Cobalt raised his hand and called out.

"Malion! Come over here for a moment!"

"Yes, what is it?"

As Malion approached quickly, Viscount Cobalt gestured with his eyes and spoke.

"Chairman Bezar here wishes to sign a contract for port usage rights… I was wondering if that might be possible."

Malion glanced briefly at Bezar.

For a fleeting moment, a look of contempt crossed his face before it disappeared.

"I'm sorry, but all contracts have already been filled."

"Already? So soon?"

"Yes, that's how it turned out."

"B-but surely there must be some way? Even just one or two slots…"

As Bezar asked, sweating profusely, Malion adjusted his glasses and replied.

"If you insist, there might not be no way at all."

"Really? Then what’s the way?"

"Double the price. No, triple it."

"Wh-what? Triple? That’s…"

"If you pay that much, we could offer compensation to those who already signed and free up a slot or two for you."

"But isn’t that too much?"

"I don’t know. Compared to slashing the usage fee of a perfectly fine port in half, I’d say raising the price to pay for penalties sounds far more reasonable."

At Malion’s firm tone, Chairman Bezar’s eyes widened.

Then, trembling slightly, he spoke.

“I… understand your intentions perfectly.”

“Yes, then please enjoy the rest of the party.”

“If you change your mind, you’re welcome to come back any time.”

A calm, confident smile spread across both Viscount Cobalt and Malion’s faces.

---

Inside a noble's office.

Along the ornate crimson walls stood an array of finely sharpened swords and armor.

Not a single speck of dust could be seen—an indication of just how obsessive the room's owner must be.

Shhhrk! Shhhrk!

A young man in a red uniform sat at a desk, slowly grinding a sword against a whetstone.

Count Vernian of Tread.

The young head of the Tread family—a noble who had gained immense prestige by selling countless weapons to families and cities across the region and amassing a fortune.

“Hmmm…”

Vernian carefully wiped the sword with a handkerchief and examined the blade under the sunlight.

Then, gripping the hilt tightly—

Wooooooong!

A faint blue glow enveloped the tip of the blade.

Weapon Enchant—an advanced technique requiring the mastery of mana manipulation, typically only usable by knights of at least 2-star rank.

As the mana that had gathered at the tip began to spread evenly throughout the blade—

Screeaaak!

A strange sound, like a bird’s cry, echoed as the mana surged with a violent wave.

Count Vernian, maintaining the enchant, swung the sword through the air.

Whoooosh!

A fierce slash carved through the space.

And then—

Kraaaaang!

With a thunderous crack and a burst of sparks, the blade shattered.

“It was garbage after all.”

Thunk.

He glanced down at the hilt, the only part remaining, and shook his head.

Knock knock knock!

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

“What is it?”

“A guest has arrived.”

“You could at least tell me who it is.”

“They said you’d understand… if we said ‘The Crow.’”

At that, one of Vernian’s eyes opened wide.

“…Let them in.”

“Yes, sir!”

Creeeeak—

As the servant opened the door and stepped aside, someone else entered the room.

A hunchback, small in stature, draped in a black robe.

Every time he limped forward, a metallic clatter echoed as if dragging a pitchfork, and dust fell from beneath his robe.

Count Vernian frowned in distaste and spoke with irritation.

“What do you want?”

“They’ve opened the port… at the Daphne Viscounty.”

A calm, cold baritone voice.

Vernian let out a long sigh.

“I know. They held some social party recently, right? Even Princess Medeia showed up. I heard they made a fortune from it.”

“This makes things easier. I have something to say regarding that—”

“We’re not finished talking yet.”

Vernian stroked his chin and continued.

“Two merchant guilds, four merchant fleets, and five noble houses have already shifted their operations to that port. That alone means the port usage fees will amount to at least a million gold a year… The damage isn’t small, that’s what I’m saying.”

“…”

As the man called the Crow idly fidgeted with his fingers, Vernian went on.

“If only someone hadn’t confidently claimed that the trade port would never be completed, things wouldn’t have come to this. A shame, really.”

“There was a slight miscalculation. I hadn’t foreseen that Daphne would construct a breakwater…”

“Sounds more like a pathetic excuse.”

Count Vernian clicked his tongue and slowly ran his sticky gaze over the Crow’s body.

The latter trembled slightly and replied.

“If you’re trying to insult me, you’d better stop.”

“Insult? I’m only stating facts.”

Just as Vernian sneered—

Whoosh!

The Crow pulled an arm from within his robe and swung it forward.

In a blink of an eye, nearly impossible to follow, a red dagger flew straight for Count Vernian’s carotid artery.

But—

Claaang!

Vernian raised his arm and blocked it, sending out a resounding boom.

A shimmer of blue light spread over his sleeve where the dagger struck, and at the same time, the Crow leapt back to widen the distance.

“You little…!”

The Crow’s robe fluttered as his body tensed, as if he might strike again at any moment.

In response, Count Vernian casually dispelled the mana from his sleeve and said,

“Whoa now, let’s calm down. We serve the same master—no point in drawing blades over this.”

“…Tch.”

The Crow trembled briefly before putting away his dagger and speaking.

“Whatever your circumstances, I don’t care. Orders came from above… you’d better carry them out properly.”

Vernian crossed his arms and replied with a mocking tone.

“Yeah, yeah. No need to rush me—I was planning to get involved soon anyway. I’m not the kind to just sit and take a hit, you know?”

At that, the Crow backed away a few steps.

“…Tch!”

Bang!

He spat on the floor, slammed the door, and stormed out.

“Disgusting bastard…”

Count Vernian wrinkled his brow, then casually wiped the spit away with his shoe and said,

“Anyone out there?”

“Y-yes, sir!”

Came the servant’s voice from beyond the door.

Vernian gave an immediate order.

“Summon a family council. As soon as possible.”

“Understood!”

Thump, thump, thump!

Footsteps echoed as the servant ran down the hall.

“Daphne Viscounty, huh…”

Count Vernian appeared lost in thought for a moment.

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve stirred up some trouble. Could be fun.”

A sly, sinister smile slowly crept across his face.

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