Chapter 171

Chapter 171: Nemesis.

The northeastern region of the Fabian Empire.

Here lay the domain of Ignima, known as the “House of Flames.”

One of the Empire’s Seven Great Houses, it was a family that revered military power, boasting the latest weaponry and countless master blacksmiths.

In the deepest part of the Ignima estate—

A room filled with all manner of trophies and gold and silver treasures.

A man sitting against the bed read through the documents in his hand, then suddenly coughed violently.

“Cough! Cough!”

Once flaming red, his hair had turned white, and the muscles that once filled his body had dried up like withered wood.

Duke Light Ignima.

Even at the age of ninety-seven, he was still the Lord of Ignima, tirelessly reviewing the endless reports that came his way.

“…My lord.”

At that moment, a woman in her early fifties sitting by the bed wiped Light’s body with a damp towel and gently fed him thin porridge.

Linna Calphid.

When all of Light’s many wives had succumbed to old age, she had been the last young wife to survive.

After tending to him for some time, she clasped Light’s frail hand tightly and spoke.

“Please… perhaps it is time to pass down the title of Lord and rest. I worry your health might suffer from overexertion.”

“…You still don’t know me well, do you?”

For an instant, Light’s eyes shifted, gleaming sharply.

“How many times have I told you? I was born to be the Lord of this house.”

“But still…”

“To relinquish my title as Lord would be the same as telling me to die.”

Vwoooom!

A blue light flickered in Light’s eyes.

At the same time, his white hair swayed as if alive.

“Keuh-heok! Keuhk!”

Linna Calphid’s face turned pale as her eyes rolled back.

“Do I still look like a toothless lion to you?”

The veins on Light’s forehead bulged as he glared at her with a gaze full of rage.

There was only one thing Linna could do.

“M-my lord… I-I’m sorry…”

Her body trembled as she begged for forgiveness.

Perhaps because of that, Light let out a long breath through his nose and withdrew the light from his eyes.

“Keuh-heok! Cough!”

Linna finally gasped for breath, coughing uncontrollably.

Light spoke with a look of irritation.

“If you ever dare speak to me like that again… do not come near me. You only displease me.”

“…I-I’m sorry. I won’t make such a mistake again.”

The young wife averted her gaze like a sinner, just then—

Knock, knock, knock!

A knocking sound came from outside the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jubilen, my lord.”

“…Enter.”

As Light slightly curled his lips, the door opened, and a red-haired man with drooping eyes—Jubilen—walked in and offered a noble’s salute.

“Rise, my hunting dog.”

“…Yes.”

At the title Light used, Jubilen’s expression twisted ever so slightly.

He quickly brushed the thought away and rose to his feet, standing upright.

“I came to report something.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“It seems the Daphne Viscounty has begun trading.”

“Trading? Those bastards… you’re telling me they got their hands on a ship?”

“Yes. It appears they refitted a warship captured during the war with the Count of Tread into a merchant vessel. I’m not sure exactly where they came from, but they’ve also brought in a large number of sailors from outside.”

“Huh…”

Light’s face twisted with irritation and fury.

“You’ve gone and fed the rats. Those idiot Tread scum…”

“I apologize. I bear much of the responsibility for failing to properly rein them in.”

Jubilen bowed his head with a blank expression.

“Apologize?”

Shlaaa!

In that instant, the document Light had been holding flew forward and slapped against Jubilen’s face.

“Ah…”

Rinna, who had been watching from the side, widened her eyes in shock.

“……”

Yet Jubilen stood firm, not flinching in the slightest as he stared straight at Light.

“You... how many times have I told you what I think of the Daphne scum, and how they must be dealt with?”

“You’ve said it.”

“And yet instead of handling them properly, they’ve even docked a ship at their trading port… What the hell have you been doing?”

“I apologize. I tried to use indirect means to avoid staining the name of Great Ignima, and that led to many unexpected developments.”

Light’s voice dropped to a growl.

“You know very well… that I don’t like excuses, don’t you?”

He looked as though he might rip his opponent apart at any moment.

Jubilen closed his eyes slowly, then opened them and replied.

“You’re absolutely right. That’s why… I intend to take responsibility for this matter.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“There’s intelligence that Daphne has recently begun recruiting elite troops and expanding their knight order. And to do that… they’ll need a ‘Count’s title.’”

“A Count’s title? In this situation, how in the world are they going to get one?”

Right now, the Imperial Family was nothing more than a puppet, and real power in the Empire rested in the hands of the Seven Great Houses.

In other words, not even the Emperor could freely grant a title to someone out of favor with them.

Jubilen spoke again.

“As far as I know… there’s only one method left. For Daphne to achieve a feat so great, that the current Emperor would defy the nobles’ opposition and grant them a title.”

“A great feat, huh. I see…”

At that, Light stroked his chin and gave a twisted smile.

“That’s the only path left to those bastards.”

“…Yes. Which is why I intend to end them there. With my own hands, personally.”

“Good. That should make sure their miserable lives come to a definite end.”

A satisfied smile spread across Light’s face.

Then Jubilen lowered his head once more and spoke.

“I’ll take my leave now.”

“Right. Make sure it’s done properly this time.”

Just as Jubilen was about to exit the room, Duke Light spoke up once more, adding a final warning.

“If a hunting dog from a collateral line becomes useless… you wouldn’t want to know what kind of end awaits him.”

“……”

Jubilen halted for a moment, his body trembling slightly before he responded.

“Yes. I’ll keep that in mind, my Lord.”

---

A month passed.

At a tavern in Mudside’s trading port—crowded as usual with ships coming and going without rest—Hardin sat at an outdoor seat overlooking the harbor, one leg crossed as he sipped juice and chewed on jerky.

“Haah, why aren’t those guys here yet? It’s about time they showed up.”

“…What are you waiting for, Young Master?”

His attendant, Gadolph, asked as he firmly massaged Hardin’s shoulders from behind.

“What do you think? It’s about time for that to arrive.”

“And what exactly is ‘that’?”

To Gadolph, Hardin had looked more or less the same every day for the past month.

By day, he ran the knights ragged—perhaps a little too literally—in training, and whenever he had free time, he’d come to Mudside and stare blankly out at the sea.

Like someone waiting for a lover dragged off to war.

‘Even when I ask, he won’t tell me what it is.’

Still, Gadolph was thankful for this much.

From his perspective, the fact that Hardin wasn’t causing any accidents was already a blessing.

It was around the time Hardin had emptied the last of his juice bottle.

CLANG! CLANG!

A loud ringing of a bell echoed from the dock, signaling an incoming ship.

As Hardin rose from his seat, he spotted a merchant vessel flying the flag of the Daphne Viscounty entering the inner harbor in the distance.

“There it is. It’s here.”

It was unmistakably one of the ships that had set sail not long ago, full of confidence.

With light steps, Hardin took off toward the dock.

Then…

“Unload the cargo! Drop the anchor!”

“Aye, sir!”

Crew members poured off the ship, which had swiftly completed its docking, and began unloading the cargo in a hurry—something Hardin caught sight of right away.

“Move the pepper to the far side so it doesn’t get wet! The rest of the spices, straight to the warehouse!”

“Yes, sir!”

All sorts of spices could be seen, along with rare fabrics and medicinal herbs not commonly found in this region.

They were goods brought in from the nearby Carib Archipelago.

As you requested, I’ll let you hire my people. But there’s a condition.

A condition? What is it?

Trade with our archipelago. We, too, need goods from the Empire.

This trade had begun at the request of Admiral Redrose.

But Hardin, with memories from his time as Varlach, knew well what it meant.

He knew that trading with Carib could only ever bring profit—never loss.

“Not once have I taken a loss trading with those Carib bastards.”

Just then, as the people at the harbor stood wide-eyed, marveling at the rare trade goods before them—

“Ah, Young Master! You’re here.”

“Yeah, yeah. Did the trade go well?”

“Yes, it was a success.”

One of the administrators directing the scene spotted Hardin and gave him a polite bow.

“This single voyage brought in about 200,000 gold. If we consider the value of the goods we purchased locally… you could say we made even more profit in real terms.”

“Two hundred thousand gold, huh. Two hundred thousand…”

The corners of Hardin’s mouth stretched into a broad grin.

Two hundred thousand from just one ship… If ten ships ran nonstop, that meant a minimum of two million gold per month.

On top of that, the other ships had sailed to places like the distant sugarcane plantations—regions with even higher yields.

Chances were, they’d bring in more, not less.

This was truly…

A goose that lays golden eggs!

Clink!

Hardin’s eyes sparkled as if golden coins were dancing right in front of him.

With this, he could finally do anything he wanted!

“Wahaha! Wahahahahaha! Jackpot. This is a jackpot!”

Hardin’s gleeful (and slightly undignified) laughter rang out across the entire trading port.

Just then—

“Um, Young Master. Also, please accept this.”

“Hm? What is it?”

Hardin tilted his head as the administrator handed him an envelope.

“Ah, we received it while in the Carib Archipelago. Their Pirate Empress… she insisted we deliver it to you.”

“Redrose?”

How long has it been since they last met, and she’s already sending letters?

Hardin furrowed his brows curiously and opened the envelope to read its contents.

---

Next time you send a shipment, make sure to include plenty of high-quality mead and beer. Ah, and I hear Imperial beef tastes great—so toss in some jerky, too. Don’t forget. You’d better send it. If you don’t, I’ll burn your ship to the ground the next time you come.

– Admiral Redrose –

---

“She said she’ll burn the ship?”

Yeah… that didn’t sound like a joke at all.

“Like grandmother, like granddaughter.”

Hardin let out a deep sigh, feeling a chill run down his spine.

“Still… might as well give her what she wants.”

He stared absentmindedly at the pirates—no, sailors—busily hauling crates.

They now looked like walking piles of gold to him.

Hardin handed the letter in his hand to the administrator and spoke.

“Take this.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yeah. Next time we send out a trade ship, make sure all the items listed in there are included.”

“Ah, yes! Understood!”

As the administrator saluted and stepped away, Hardin placed a hand on Gadolph’s shoulder and said,

“Gadolph, let’s go grab a drink.”

“Again? You’ve been drinking for days now.”

“Come on, something good happened—how can we just let a day like this slip by? Just today. I’ll stop after today.”

Turning his head, Hardin looked over toward the sailors and shouted.

“Hey, you lot working over there! Once you’re done, head to the tavern! I’ll cover all your drinks tonight!”

“Wooooah! Seriously?!”

“Thank you, bro—uh, I mean, Young Master!”

Beaming smiles spread across the pirates’—no, sailors’—faces. They were practically glowing with happiness.