Chapter 107

Chapter 107: Maritime Blockade. (1)

Mudside’s dockside.

“G-Go back!”

“You lunatic! Head for the port!”

Just moments ago, due to the bombardment from the Count of Tread’s fleet, the ships that had been trying to leave the port hastily turned their bows around.

The problem was that in the process, their paths overlapped with those trying to exit the harbor.

“Ou... out of the way!”

“We’re going to crash! Aaaah!”

The ships collided, and as they made sudden turns, the people onboard were thrown around.

“Aaaah! Save meee!”

Splash!

Some couldn't hold on and ended up falling into the water.

Meanwhile, those standing on the dock were panicking in their own right.

“W-What’s going on?”

“What the hell was that! Why did the Count of Tread’s fleet destroy that ship?”

“The ship shattered into pieces...”

Hundreds had witnessed the Count of Tread’s warships mercilessly destroy two merchant ships, and not a single person dared to leave the port.

Everyone’s faces had gone pale, frozen in place with shock and fear.

“Someone explain what's going on!”

“What the hell is happening?!”

Among the crowd, a few grabbed the collars of the Daphne employees managing the dock.

But all they could offer were the most predictable responses.

“S-Sorry. We’re currently trying to assess the situation.”

“Assess the situation?! If I don’t leave now, I’ll miss my delivery deadline!”

“The Young Masters are working to figure out what’s going on. Please, just wait a moment!”

“Tchhh!”

The merchants, agitated, and the Daphne staff, doing their best to handle the situation—

With chaos escalating, the atmosphere at the port was spiraling into disaster.

At that moment...

Swoooosh!

A small fishing boat cut through the waters, heading straight toward the Count of Tread’s fleet.

“Row faster, faster!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“Faster!”

With one foot raised on the bow, Hardin shouted as the knights sitting behind him rowed so hard it looked like their arms might fall off.

“Huff... Huff...”

Everyone was drenched in sweat, brimming with tension.

Just then, standing right beside Hardin, Malion asked with a grim expression,

“Brother.”

“What.”

“Why in the world would the Count of Tread’s house do something like this?”

Hardin let out a sharp snort and replied.

“No idea. Maybe they hold a grudge against us?”

“That makes no sense. Our houses have never even interacted until now.”

“Exactly why we’re going to check. You got any theories?”

“...No.”

Malion shook his head.

Hardin sighed deeply, then raised his hand and shouted again.

“Everyone, row faster!”

“Yes, sir!”

Just then, the distance between them and the warship shrank dramatically.

“Brother! L-Look, over there!”

“Hm?”

As Malion pointed straight ahead, everyone’s eyes widened.

Creak! Creak!

The cannons mounted on the warship were turning toward them.

“Don’t tell me… they’re not actually going to, right?”

“...”

The moment Malion said those words, Hardin’s brow furrowed.

Boom!

Four cannons fired at once, sending four black iron shells soaring like lightning.

“Eeeek!”

“Aaaargh! They’re coming!”

In that instant, the knights instinctively sprang to their feet.

“Get out of the way!”

“Jump off!”

Splash! Splash!

Without a moment’s hesitation, they all dove into the sea.

“Brother! Jump, now!”

Malion, who had jumped in first, shouted, while Hardin clicked his tongue and stared at the incoming shells.

‘What rude bastards…’

Then, his expression hardened as he drew his sword from his waist with both hands.

‘Gyre.’

Vooooom!

Quickly infusing mana into it, he generated the flow of waves.

“What are you doing?! Get out of there!”

“Young Master!”

Just as the knights floating in the water shouted in panic—

Hardin brought his sword low to the left.

And right before the shells struck the boat, he lightly slashed his sword diagonally.

Clang!

Hardin’s sword collided with the shells, sparks flying.

Two of the shells splashed into the sea, while the other two flew back toward the enemy fleet.

The knights, witnessing this from up close, stood slack-jawed.

‘Is he insane? He… deflected the shells? With a sword?’

‘What?’

The two deflected shells continued their flight—

Splash! Splash!

And landed right beside the central flagship.

“Tch.”

Hardin sheathed his sword and said,

“What are you doing? Get back up.”

“Pardon?”

“Get on. We’ve still got somewhere to go.”

“R-Right.”

There was something unusually cold in Hardin’s voice.

Malion and the knights scrambled back onto the boat.

Eventually, they reached just in front of the flagship.

Hardin tilted his head high and spoke.

“Come out.”

Then, a man stepped forward from the bow.

Dressed in uniform with tanned skin and a large scar slashing diagonally across his closed left eye—a man with a harsh appearance.

“Hmph…”

He looked down at them with a sneer, and knights in similar uniforms lined up beside him.

In that moment, the expressions of the Daphne knights stiffened.

‘What the hell…’

‘This is intense.’

Then the one-eyed man stroked his chin and asked,

“Who are you?”

Before answering, Hardin snapped sharply.

“Shouldn’t you state your identity first?”

The man chuckled and replied,

“I’m Chillas, Captain of the 2nd Division of the Anvil Knight Order.”

“The Anvil Knight Order, huh…”

At the name Hardin muttered under his breath, a look of concern surfaced on the knights’ faces.

‘The Anvil Knight Order? The elite unit of the Count of Tread?’

‘Why on earth are they here…?’

Anyone who had wielded a sword even a little would have heard of them.

The strongest knight order in Luden Shire, known for charging across battlefields clad in powerful weapons and heavy armor.

Their appearance here could not possibly be a good sign.

Chillas, observing their reactions with amusement, asked again.

“So, who the hell are you?”

“I’m Hardin Daphne, Young Master of the Daphne House.”

“Hmph, the Young Master of Daphne? Haha! Is that so…? To bat away cannon shells without even blinking—your skills are pretty impressive for the heir of such a backwater house.”

Hardin narrowed his eyes and replied,

“Enough small talk. What’s the meaning of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You show up unannounced, fire on merchant ships, and blockade the coast.”

“Well, the ship was approaching far too quickly. We thought it was attacking us.”

“Attacking?”

What kind of nonsense is that? A merchant ship attacking? That’s what you’re going with...?

Hardin’s expression twisted with frustration.

But he had no intention of playing along.

‘Their intent is obvious.’

It was just bait.

Bait to rile him up—deliberately provocative.

Hardin let out a deep sigh and said,

“Fine. Let’s just say that’s true.”

“What are you saying, Brother?! You’re just going to let that slide?”

Malion looked wide-eyed as he asked, but Hardin waved his hand and continued.

“Then at least move your ship out of the way, would you?”

“Move our ship?”

“Yes. Thanks to you, the harbor is completely blocked. I’d also like proper compensation for the merchant ships you wrecked.”

Hardin pointed his thumb behind him as he spoke.

When they turned to look, they could see the tangled mess of merchant ships near the dockside.

Chillas stroked his chin a few times before speaking.

“Hahaha! Quite a bold demand!”

...Bold?

Hardin ground his teeth slightly.

“Let’s get it straight—this isn’t bold. It’s a rightful demand.”

The corner of Chillas’s mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Sorry, but that’s not going to happen. The Lord has ordered us not to return until we recover the damages done to Tread by Daphne.”

“Damages?”

Hardin furrowed his brow and turned to ask,

“Malion, what’s this about damages?”

“I don’t know. Nothing comes to mind…”

As Malion adjusted his glasses and tried to recall something, Chillas added,

“How shameless. You cause damage to Minter’s Port and then act like you don’t know a thing.”

“...”

At that, Malion fell into thought for a moment.

‘Minter’s Port? That’s the Count of Tread’s port…’

Malion slowly raised his head.

“Could it be… they came because of the port contract issue?”

“Now you’re getting it.”

As Chillas gave a sly grin, Hardin turned to Malion again and asked,

“Port contract?”

“Yes. The Count of Tread also owns a trading port called Minter’s. Some of the users who originally used that port have switched over to ours. I think that’s what this is about…”

“How many?”

“I’m not certain, but it’s fewer than ten ships.”

So that’s what this was.

Hardin’s brow twitched, his displeasure plain.

Then, taking a deep breath, he lifted his head and spoke.

“That doesn’t sound like enough to call it damages. In the first place, port users are free to sign usage contracts with whoever they want, aren’t they?”

“In principle, yes. But you see…”

Chillas’s mouth curled in a crooked smirk as he continued.

“The fact that you’ve infringed upon the Count of Tread’s business interests is the problem. Especially when it’s some pathetic little viscountcy.”

“…”

A pathetic little viscountcy?

Hardin’s gaze turned cold in an instant.

‘These bastards…’

Then Chillas, as if there was nothing more to explain, laid out the core of the matter.

“In any case, the Lord has ordered the closure of Mudside’s port. Until that goal is achieved, we’re here to blockade these waters.”

The knights and Malion glanced at each other, as if doubting their own ears.

“Maritime blockade? Port closure?”

“What kind of absurd nonsense is that?”

Close down a port that had just been built?

It was like a bolt from the blue.

Hardin asked again.

“And if we refuse?”

“Well, then there’s nothing we can do about it. But until the port is shut down, not a single ship will leave here.”

“…”

As Hardin squeezed his eyes shut, Malion spoke up instead.

“What kind of ridiculous demand is this?! What authority do you even have—”

“Didn’t I just say? We’re the Count of Tread’s house, and you’re nothing but a measly viscountcy. That’s our authority.”

A deep smirk spread across Chillas’s face.

Watching him, Malion’s own face trembled faintly.

“No matter how prestigious the Count of Tread is, this is still a blatant violation of Imperial law! If we formally submit this to the tribunal—”

“Go ahead and try.”

“What?”

“Go on, take it to court if you want. I just doubt anyone will actually listen to you.”

“Captain Chillas! Do you even know what kind of place this port is?!”

Malion shouted angrily, but Chillas merely smiled faintly as he replied.

“If you’re about to bring up Princess Medeia’s name, save it. We couldn’t care less.”

“…What?”

For a moment, Malion’s face showed clear bewilderment.

The fact that they would say something like that outright meant—

‘They’re doing this knowing full well Her Highness’s hand is involved here?’

The knights standing behind also seemed to realize it, frowning in surprise.

Hardin crossed his arms, organizing the situation in his head.

‘So they’re saying they can brush aside Imperial law and the princess’s authority if they want.’

Well, it wasn’t exactly surprising.

No matter how grand the Fabian Empire was, the Imperial Family was nothing more than an arbitrator representing the nobles… they didn’t wield absolute power.

‘And the only reason Medeia’s name carried weight here… was because this place is a remote backwater.’

Against those with overwhelming power or other strong connections, her name meant nothing.

Of course, these bastards would still feel some degree of pressure.

Pulling a stunt this extreme would inevitably draw some pushback from neighboring houses or the Imperial side.

But…

‘The fact that they’re willing to ignore that means they’re serious.’

While Hardin’s gaze cooled, Malion’s face flushed red, his voice pouring out in a rush of outrage.

“Do you truly think this is a just demand? Do you even know what kind of port this is, to so brazenly talk about closing it—”

It didn’t matter—Chillas’s composure didn’t fade in the slightest.

“If you’re so wronged, why don’t you drive us out yourself?”

“Tchhh…!”

Perhaps his anger had finally peaked.

Malion’s trembling hand reached for the hilt at his waist.

But then—

Tap.

Hardin grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

“Enough.”

“Why are you stopping me, Brother?! This isn’t like you!”

“What you’re about to do is exactly what they want.”

Hardin jerked his chin, and Malion’s gaze followed.

Knights in uniform stood on deck—at least seventy to eighty of them, and about as many soldiers.

They were well-armed, their discipline obvious at a glance.

‘We’d have to let this go.’

Even if they cut them all down, they’d take heavy losses. And if they actually succeeded, that would only play right into the enemy’s hands.

It would give those bastards a perfectly solid justification.

Despair crept across Malion’s face.

“But are you telling me to just stand by and watch them act like this?”

Then Hardin spoke softly, almost in a whisper.

“Who said I’m just going to watch?”

“What? What do you mean—”

As Malion blinked in confusion, Hardin turned back to Chillas.

“I understand what you’re saying. Why don’t you give us some time? I’ll need to discuss this with my family.”

“…Well, that’s your business.”

Chillas shrugged as he replied.

“Row back to the harbor.”

Hardin turned sharply, issuing the order to the knights.

“…Yes, sir!”

Swoooosh!

The fishing boat began gliding forward as the knights rowed.

Watching their retreating backs, Chillas crossed his arms and muttered,

“Go ahead and squirm all you like.”

Now that you’ve been marked by us… you never really had a choice to begin with.

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