Chapter 168

Chapter 168: Pirate Empress (3)

Daphne Viscounty Estate’s Main Conference Room.

Viscount Cobalt and Steward Malion.

The retainers of the Daphne House were gathered, seated around the table, while several retainers from Calpion, including Syllot, stood nearby.

For the first time in a while, not only the retainers of the main estate but also those from Calpion were convening together for a full-family meeting.

Perhaps it was because everyone had been working so hard lately.

“Huuuu……”

Stacks of parchment were piled up on the table and in their hands, and exhaustion was clearly written on their faces.

Especially in Syllot’s case...

‘D-damn it, I’m gonna die like this.’

His skeletal body trembled visibly, and flies buzzed around him as if he were a corpse.

As for how someone could end up in such a state…

---

– Send more support, Syllot.

– B-but… we’re already short on resources just managing our own estate’s affairs.

– Is that what matters right now? Shouldn’t we repair the ships and normalize the port as soon as possible?! Once this fire is out, it’ll benefit you just as much—so support us in every way you can!

– …Y-yes, understood.

---

After the war with the Count of Tread, extensive restoration work began on the trade port, along with modifications to the fleet.

Calpion had to supply the labor, the food needed to feed them, and all sorts of provisions—squeezing them dry like a dried fish fillet wasn’t an exaggeration.

Of course...

---

– You think you're the only one suffering? Only you? People at the main estate are risking their lives to work too!

– M-my apologies.

---

The tenacious folks from the main estate tightened their belts even harder and worked through the nights, so the ones from Calpion had no room to complain.

In the midst of it all, Daphne’s retainers took turns reporting to Viscount Cobalt.

“The port warehouse is now full, so we’ve begun expansion work. The recruitment of laborers has already been completed…”

“Good. Make haste. Do you need any more support?”

“Calpion has already sent a labor force.”

“If you need more, let me know. We can provide as much as necessary.”

Viscount Cobalt replied nonchalantly.

To this, Syllot, his face pale, waved his hands in alarm.

“L-Lord. We truly have no more available personnel left. Providing any further support is just not possible…”

“Ahh. I was just speaking in general, just in general. Why do you assume the worst?”

“…Yes, understood.”

Assume the worst? Because if we do any more, we’ll actually die, you bastard!

Syllot responded reluctantly, crying inside.

Just as the meeting was drawing to a close, Viscount Cobalt, his face weary, broke into a bright smile.

“You’ve all worked hard. But thanks to your efforts, the port is back to normal… and the family’s income has greatly increased. Once everything settles down, I’ll make sure your efforts won’t have been in vain.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Understood.”

As the retainers bowed their heads, Viscount Cobalt smiled and burst into hearty laughter.

“With men like you, I feel reassured. Hahaha, hahahahaha!”

“It is our honor to be able to serve here, my lord.”

“I feel the same.”

Everyone was soaked in fatigue, yet somehow, their faces carried traces of hope and anticipation.

And understandably so.

‘Now’s not the time to rest. Yeah, no doubt about it.’

‘I have to seize this opportunity no matter what.’

Even they could see that the house was improving day by day.

The figures recorded in the ledger were growing by the unit, and merchant guilds and nobles eager to build relations with the Daphne House were visiting constantly.

It was exhausting to the point of death, but compared to those days when no matter how hard they struggled, nothing ever improved—this was a far better situation.

Of course, that didn’t mean there were no small problems left.

“Father, what should we do about Brother?”

“……”

The moment Malion carefully brought it up, the once warm and cheerful conference room turned icy cold.

As if everyone had just remembered a nightmare they didn’t even want to think about.

Cobalt tightly closed his eyes and let out a sigh before replying.

“Mulgybson, still no word from Hardin?”

“No, sir. I’ve tried searching in every way I could… but nothing has come up.”

“...I see.”

Cobalt lowered his head, then forced a smile onto his face and said,

“Well, looking at it positively—no news might be good news. And… even if Hardin has a few odd traits, there’s no way he’d actually bring pirates into the family. Right, everyone?”

“R-right, my lord. Surely the Young Master knows better than that.”

“I trust in the Young Master as well, sir.”

Did they really believe that?

Or were they just hoping so?

The retainers also smiled awkwardly as they voiced their support.

“...I really hope so. Please.”

No way... no matter how much of a mess it is, he wouldn’t actually bring pirates into the family.

Malion sighed, praying silently in his heart.

---

---

At that moment, Calav Archipelago. Admiral Redrose’s estate.

“Wahahahaha! Kid, you can really put it away!”

“I told you, I never lose when it comes to drinking!”

Redrose and Hardin had their arms around each other’s shoulders, each holding a glass of alcohol, laughing together.

Around Redrose’s neck hung the skull necklace she had received from Hardin, and the banquet table was piled high with exotic delicacies. In one corner of the hall, a pirate band was playing a lively tune.

“Hoy! Hoy! Let’s gooo!”

“Wooo! Nice one!”

The clown who had hosted the arena games now led the show, prompting a pirate next to him to blow fire from his mouth while another juggled, stirring up the atmosphere in every way.

And then...

“Next up, we’ve got the dagger-throwing act! Alright, let’s gooo!”

The clown stacked several daggers in his hands and turned toward the wall.

Whoosh!

With a powerful motion, he hurled them forward.

“Hiiieeek!”

Thud! Thunk! Thud-thud!

Daggers embedded themselves into the wall all around Jerry, who was tightly bound with ropes, as his screams rang out.

Amidst this chaotic scene...

Mikkelsen and Beryl sat there blinking, each holding a glass of rum.

“...What in the world is going on here, brother?”

“Exactly. Just a little while ago, those two were ready to kill each other, and now they’re acting like best friends.”

Neither of them could make sense of any of it.

Starting with how the Young Master even knew about that deserted island and the dungeon in the first place.

Fighting for his life in the coliseum, dueling that monstrous Pirate Empress...

They had no idea where planning ended and chaos began. It was just...

“I swear, even ten lives wouldn’t be enough at this rate.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Was it relief from surviving once again?

Or were they just worn out?

The two men sighed deeply, drinking quietly with weary faces.

At that moment, Hardin suddenly turned their way, raising his glass and shouting,

“Mikkelsen! Beryl! What are you two doing just sitting there like logs? Eat! Drink! Enjoy yourselves!”

“...Yes, sir.”

“Heh, alright then.”

The two men raised their glasses and responded with awkward smiles.

Of course...

‘Not really in the mood to drink.’

‘I'd really rather not get drunk here, man…’

Not that they had any intention of drinking themselves into a stupor.

Wherever they looked, they saw nothing but rough-looking pirates.

One man with a missing leg and a prosthetic arm.

Another with gold jammed in place of his teeth.

One had hooks in place of both hands—each face more suffocating to look at than the last.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

“You bastard! Take this!”

“Owwooooh!”

Drunken brawls, people grabbing each other by the collar—scenes of chaos were everywhere.

The bigger problem? No one was trying to stop them.

“Wahahaha! Good one! I’m betting ten silver on Bill!”

“I’m putting double on Jackie!”

They laughed even harder, enjoying the mayhem.

In a place where not a single person was in their right mind, what if they ended up passed out drunk?

‘God knows what would happen.’

‘No way. Absolutely not.’

As the two of them sat there in dazed silence...

“Hey, you punks! I told you to drink! Alright, Admiral Redrose, I’ll be right back.”

“Do as you please.”

Hardin, after scanning the room, picked up a barrel of liquor from the corner of the banquet hall and began striding over toward them.

‘Now what?’

‘Why this time?!’

The two men instinctively shrank back, and Beryl blinked rapidly before hurriedly asking,

“...W-what are you doing, Young Master?”

“Hey, open your mouth.”

“W-why would I—?”

“Ah, quit yappin’!”

“Mmpph! Mmmpphh!”

Splash!

Hardin brought the mouth of the liquor barrel straight to Beryl’s lips.

“Young Master!”

Mikkelsen, alarmed, tried to intervene—

“Hey now!”

“Tsk tsk, don’t go interrupting your elders!”

Pirates swarmed in, grabbing Beryl’s arms and legs.

“Mm-mmpph! M-Mikkelsen!”

“B-Brother!”

Beryl flailed, trying to resist.

“Come on, drink up! You’ll feel better. This is no ordinary rum!”

“Drink! Drink! Driiiiiiiink!”

The pirates shouted louder, stirring up even more frenzy.

‘These bastards are insane.’

Even Mikkelsen, who fancied himself fairly good with alcohol and partying, found his confidence utterly shattered in the face of true madness.

Who knew how much time passed like that?

“Puhhaaaa!”

Hardin finally pulled the barrel away from Beryl’s mouth.

The last drops dripped from the spout—it was completely empty.

And then...

“……”

Beryl, face flushed bright red, stood frozen in place like a statue, eyes glassy and dazed.

“B-Brother?”

Mikkelsen approached him with concern.

“Waaaahhh!”

Suddenly, Beryl let out a wild scream and burst into crazed laughter.

It was enough to make someone wonder if he’d lost his mind.

Bang! BANG!

He began stomping and jumping in place, shouting.

“Let’s DRIIIIIINK for REAL!”

“OOOOOOOOHHHH!”

“CHAAAARGE!”

The pirates roared louder, and Mikkelsen’s face twisted further in confusion.

“Mikkelsen! You drink too! It feels... hic feels so damn good!”

“N-no thanks, brother. I think I’ve had more than eno—”

He tried to back away.

And then—clamp!

Two arms suddenly reached under his armpits and seized him tight.

“Gotcha! Heeheehee! Heeeyahahaha!”

As he came to his senses, Mikkelsen saw Redrose grinning beside him with a ghostly smile on her face.

Panic-stricken, he stammered,

“W-what… What are you trying to do?!”

“What do you think? Just trying to wake up you stiff little boys a bit! Hardin Daphne!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Snap!

Hardin gave Redrose a salute, then quickly dashed forward, grabbed another barrel of liquor, and returned with it in hand.

“Y-Young Master! Stop! If I drink all of that, I’m gonna die!”

Hic “Mikkelsen!”

“Yes?!”

“You see, people… don’t die that easily!”

“What kind of insane logic is that?!”

“Shut up and drink!”

Gulp, gulp, gulp!

“Mmpphhh! MMMMMMPH!”

“Hahaha, drink! Drink!”

“AHAHAHA!”

You maniacs!!!

Mikkelsen struggled, but thanks to Redrose’s thick arms holding him in place, he couldn’t move an inch.

Hardin poured the liquor into his mouth while Redrose let out a wild, booming laugh.

Their expressions, their laughter—everything about them overlapped.

A sudden realization struck Mikkelsen’s tear-streaked face.

‘These two… They’re the same kind of monster!’

He had thought there couldn’t possibly be another person on Earth as vicious and insane as Hardin…

But this Redrose woman didn’t just get along with him—they were so in sync, they could be mistaken for actual siblings.

The tragedy was realizing that far too late.

As the barrel emptied, Mikkelsen’s resistance weakened, and his face turned red.

And then, moments later—

“Hyah-cha-cha-cha!”

Hardin tossed the empty barrel aside, and Redrose finally released her grip.

Hic… hic…

Freed at last, Mikkelsen stood there quietly, head drooping.

Hardin and Redrose both stared at him curiously.

Then—

“Hehehe… Hehehehehe…”

Mikkelsen began to chuckle.

Tap!

“LET’S DRINK ‘TIL WE DIE TONIGHT!”

Suddenly, he leapt onto the table, screaming like a madman.

“LET’S GOOOOO!”

And so began the Calav Archipelago-style pirate banquet in full force.