Chapter 110

Chapter 110: I Need to Draw Attention.

It was midday, and the sun hung high over the sea in front of Mudside.

Swoooosh. Swaaaaash.

Amid the gently rippling waves, inside the captain’s cabin of the flagship of the Count of Tread’s fleet—

“Huuuu… This is unbearably boring.”

Chillas, the unit commander of the Count of Tread, sat with his legs crossed on a chair, taking a big bite out of an apple.

Crunch, munch, gulp.

Then he turned his head to the side and asked with a smug expression,

“Anything unusual?”

“No, sir. The chaos at the port doesn’t seem to have been resolved yet, and aside from that, nothing in particular has been detected.”

When the soldier beside him bowed his head and answered, Chillas smirked.

“How dull.”

Munch, munch.

He bit into the apple again and again.

‘Flailing around in panic… how pathetic.’

This sort of movement was expected.

After all, no one could stay sane after seeing the banner of the Count of Tread flying inside Luden Shire.

Moreover, in Daphne’s case, they had already blocked every possible escape route before beginning their pressure.

‘The princess has left for the northern front, and these guys can’t afford to give up the port.’

Chillas looked out the window with a face full of boredom.

He could see the ships crowding the port, completely immobilized.

With each passing day, it wasn’t them, but the other side who must be growing more anxious.

As long as Tread’s fleet had the area sealed off, it was no different than being a rat in a trap.

Chillas stroked his chin and thought,

‘Still… I don’t understand why the Lord is paying attention to a place like this.’

The Daphne Viscounty.

Though they claimed Tread had suffered damages because of them, truthfully, it wasn’t anything significant.

Most of the Count of Tread’s revenue came from selling weapons produced in “Salamander’s Tongue” anyway.

Poking around in a house like this wouldn’t yield much benefit...

‘If anything, it’s more likely to be a political burden.’

Regardless, doing something this blatant was bound to provoke the other noble houses of Luden Shire.

Even if the Count of Tread had the strength to handle the fallout, was it really worth accepting such losses?

Just as Chillas was about to take another bite of his apple—

“Hm?”

Had he eaten it unconsciously?

He suddenly realized only the apple core remained.

“Take this.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chillas handed the apple core to the soldier standing beside him with an indifferent gesture.

‘Well, someone like me could never hope to understand the grand intentions of someone like him.’

All I had to do was carry out my orders faithfully.

And at that moment—

Knock knock knock!

Someone knocked on the captain’s cabin door.

“What is it?”

“Sir, someone from the Daphne Viscounty is approaching!”

“Hmm… Is that so?”

Time to get ready to receive our guests.

‘This should be fun. Very.’

The corner of Chillas’s mouth curled up as if it might split his face.

---

Captain’s cabin of the Count of Tread’s flagship.

People were seated in a circle around the desk in the center.

Most of them were from the Count of Tread, and Viscount Cobalt sat to one side.

“……”

Perhaps there weren’t enough chairs—Daphne’s retainers, who had come along, stood awkwardly in the corner, wearing uncomfortable expressions.

At that moment—

“Hoho! A pleasure to meet you, Viscount Cobalt. I am Chillas, here under the orders of the Count of Tread.”

As Chillas crossed his legs and sat down, Cobalt responded with a face full of displeasure.

“The pleasure is mine. I’ve come to negotiate with the Count of Tread.”

“Ah, negotiate, you say?”

“Yes. I heard your side demanded the closure of our port.”

“Hohoho, that’s correct.”

“I’d like to discuss that matter in more detail.”

Chillas replied with a smirk.

“Well, I don’t think there’s much to discuss. What is it you wish to say?”

At that, Malion, who had been quietly observing, opened his mouth.

“First of all, the closure you’re demanding is unacceptable to us.”

“Unacceptable?”

“Yes. A great deal of money was invested in the construction of this port, and most of that came from Princess Medeia’s investment. Asking us to abandon it is no different from telling us to die.”

Malion’s eyes sharpened.

His tone now carried a strangely piercing edge.

Then—

“Hmmm…”

Tap tap! Tap tap!

Chillas drummed his fingers on the desk several times before continuing.

“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding on Daphne’s side.”

“A misunderstanding?”

“Yes. What I said wasn’t a proposal. It was an order handed down by our Lord.”

“……”

What an outrageous…!

The eyes of the Daphne retainers shook violently.

“That’s—”

Malion couldn’t hide his agitation and was about to speak when—

Thud!

Cobalt held him back with an arm and spoke in his place.

“I understand what you mean. But I would think that the Count of Tread is generous enough to show us a bit of mercy?”

“What kind of mercy are you referring to?”

“Instead of closing the port, allow us to compensate the damages we’ve caused to Tread in another way. I ask this of you.”

“Compensation, huh? That wasn’t part of the original order.”

Chillas put on a face of feigned difficulty, then nodded slightly and continued.

“Well, I suppose it’s not entirely out of the question.”

At those words, relief visibly washed over the faces of the Daphne retainers.

Cobalt asked again,

“Then, what must we do?”

“Seven million gold.”

“What?”

“I’m saying that if you give me around seven million gold as compensation, I might be able to convince the Lord.”

What the—this was absurd.

The glimmer of hope that had just flickered in their eyes was instantly smothered by a veil of despair and confusion.

At that moment—

Slam!

Cobalt slammed his palm down on the desk, and Malion quickly chimed in.

“Se-seven million?! That’s an outrageous amount!”

“The Count of Tread didn’t even suffer that much damage to begin with!”

Seven million gold.

Putting aside whether the family had that much money at the moment, the amount itself was preposterous.

Demanding that kind of sum was no different from telling them to give up the port altogether.

Then Chillas shrugged and said,

“Why are you defining the damage we suffered… based on your own assumptions?”

“But we already explained! Only about ten contracts were nullified because of us! Shouldn’t the compensation be proportionate to that?”

Malion hurriedly rummaged through his clothes and pulled out a sheet of parchment.

It was a document they had prepared before coming here, detailing the damages caused to the Count of Tread.

“Just take a look at this. It clearly shows the total damages your side suffered amounts to no more than seven hundred thousand gold!”

“Hmmm…”

Chillas read it over and then sneered.

“That’s just the damage visible on the surface.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Allow me to show you a proper document.”

Chillas turned his head to the side and snapped his fingers.

“Bring it. Linton.”

“Yes, sir.”

A soldier gave a quick bow, entered the room behind, and returned with a sheet of parchment.

“Here you go.”

“This is…”

The soldier handed it to Cobalt, and Malion leaned in beside him to read.

---

Bark-type merchant ship of the Black Coin Merchant Guild – 2 vessels.

Schooner-type merchant ship of the Baron of Minton – 1 vessel.

Ketch-type merchant ship of the Dandelion Company – 1 vessel.

…

---

Malion’s expression twisted as he reviewed the list, and Viscount Cobalt looked up with a stern face.

“There seem to be a few names on here that have no relation to our house.”

“No relation? What do you mean…?”

“The first three entries are companies we did contract with, but the ones listed below never had any contracts with us.”

Chillas let out a sarcastic snort.

“Ah, that? Those are all companies whose contracts with our house ended within three months before or after the opening of Mudside’s port.”

“And what does that have to do with us…?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Your port’s opening had an impact on them, that’s why they’re on the list.”

“…What did you just say?”

“The opening of Mudside’s port influenced the termination of their contracts. That’s what I’m saying.”

As Cobalt’s face contorted, Malion, standing beside him, spoke up.

“Isn’t that absurd? What if they were planning to terminate those contracts anyway? This document alone isn’t enough to claim the port’s opening had an impact…”

“Well. Didn’t your side throw a social party with the Princess as a guest?”

“That was…”

“Our assessment is that your loud festivities caused various clients to cancel their contracts—to get in the Princess’s favor.”

“That’s just conjecture.”

“Well, if you truly feel wronged, go ahead and prove it’s not true.”

Are they toying with us…?

Malion clenched his fist tightly, his body trembling with anger, and the retainers’ faces were filled with rage and frustration.

‘He’s spouting such nonsense with a straight face?’

‘Our port is miles away from theirs to begin with!’

In that moment, everyone could feel it.

The Count of Tread wasn’t here to negotiate. He simply wanted to crush them.

Chillas smirked and spoke again.

“What’s wrong? You don’t look well.”

Cobalt tightly shut his eyes.

‘This is troublesome.’

Whether it was just about money or if the Count of Tread had some deeper grudge, he couldn’t tell.

But one thing was certain.

The Count of Tread was intent on trampling them—no matter what.

Tension gripped his body, and his teeth ground on their own.

With his eyes trembling shut, Viscount Cobalt let out a deep sigh.

‘What am I supposed to do in this situation?’

Just when it felt like he was hitting a wall and the pressure in his chest was growing—

He heard a voice echo in his ear.

—“Make sure you draw their attention, so Tread doesn’t get any funny ideas.”

It was something Hardin had said during the family conference.

‘Hardin.’

He had no idea what Hardin planned to do.

But knowing now that these people didn’t want negotiation—or anything else for that matter—left him with no other choice.

‘Draw their attention, he said…’

Resolving himself, Cobalt slowly opened his eyes and, with a trembling voice, spoke.

“Very well. I’ll give it to you—seven million gold.”

“L-Lord!”

The Daphne people shouted in shock, and Malion quickly stepped up to his father, whispering.

“Father, what are you thinking? Seven million gold? That’s preposterous…”

“Leave it to me.”

Cobalt nodded firmly, his eyes filled with determination.

Even Chillas, the one who had made the suggestion, twitched his eyebrows slightly, as if surprised.

‘Ho… He’s actually accepting this?’

Seven million gold—a staggering sum that could easily break Daphne’s back.

To accept such an offer so readily could only mean one thing…

‘He’s up to something.’

So transparent. Clumsy, even.

Just as Chillas was secretly scoffing to himself, Cobalt spoke again.

“However, I do have one request.”

“What is it?”

“I assume you’re well aware that seven million gold is an enormous sum, far beyond what our house can afford to pay all at once. It’s practically impossible for us to hand over that amount immediately.”

“So… what are you asking of me?”

“Let’s negotiate. How long we’ll need to pay the amount, and in what manner we’ll pay it. How about we discuss those terms together?”

“Hmmm… a negotiation, you say.”

Was he truly intending to pay the seven million gold? Or was this a case of offering flesh to protect the bone?

‘Well, either way works for me. The longer this drags on, the more anxious they’ll become.’

No matter how they played it, the outcome was already decided.

Even now, protests from the sailors stranded at the port must be growing louder, and the more that happened, the more responsibility Daphne would have to shoulder in turn.

Chillas shrugged and replied,

“Very well. Let’s take our time and talk it over.”

“…Thank you.”

Cobalt nodded stiffly, his expression hardened.

‘Hardin… Please, you must succeed.’

Until then, I’ll do whatever it takes—whatever I can—to keep their attention focused here.

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