Chapter 115: “I’m telling you, we can win!”

A quiet coastline after the people of the Count of Tread's household had left.

The two father and son locked eyes, and Cobalt spoke again with a serious look.

“What on earth did you do yesterday for the ship to end up like that?”

“Oh, that.”

The retainers and Malion standing behind them also looked at Hardin with serious expressions.

Because, at this moment, everyone had the same thought.

‘…How did he put a hole in the ship?’

The Count of Tread’s perfectly fine ship suddenly had holes in it and ran aground.

From the timing of the sinking to the statements made during the previous meeting.

Judging by the circumstances, anyone could see...

‘It was my brother’s doing.’

‘The Young Master must’ve done something.’

‘No doubt about it.’

But even with the suspicion, it was hard to understand.

The nighttime sea was deep, with strong currents.

Could someone really push through all that without a single boat and sneak up to a warship?

No, even putting that aside…

“……”

As everyone’s gaze shifted toward the stranded ship, they saw several large holes, as if it had been hit by a cannon from underwater.

‘How the hell did he make holes that big?’

Their faces were filled with confusion.

Of course, even in the midst of that…

“Ahem! Ahem!”

“Ah, the weather’s just lovely.”

Manton, Beryl, and the other knights standing nearby awkwardly cleared their throats and blatantly averted their eyes.

Then, Hardin shrugged and answered.

“Eh, what’s important about that? What matters is that I solved the problem.”

“Hardin… you didn’t do anything that could cause trouble later, did you…”

Cobalt asked with a worried face, and Hardin waved his hand.

“No way. There’s no evidence, so what are they going to do?”

“But still…”

“I said it’s fine. What’s important is that we got back at those bastards. Isn’t that right, everyone?”

Hardin asked with a sly smile.

The retainers glanced at each other, hesitant, but then one by one they began to speak.

“Ahem, well, that’s true.”

“In any case, the blockade is lifted, so it turned out well, didn’t it?”

Perhaps that was the start.

“Haha, indeed. It’s a good outcome. We nearly lost clients because of that blockade.”

“Just seeing that ship end up like that clears away ten years of pent-up frustration!”

“Well done, Young Master.”

As more people began to agree, smiles started to spread across the retainers’ faces.

Some even burst out laughing heartily or clapped their hands.

Standing quietly, Mikkelsen turned to Manton and asked,

“Commander… why are they laughing like that?”

“They were all under a lot of stress from the blockade. People were swarming the administrative office every single day.”

“Ahhh… so that’s how it is.”

Just as everyone was basking in the lively and cheerful atmosphere—

Swoosh.

Malion adjusted his glasses and spoke.

“…Father, how should we respond to the Count of Tread’s household from now on?”

“Respond, huh… We should be thinking about that in advance.”

Once again, Mikkelsen whispered to Manton.

“What’s this about a response now?”

“Well, there’s a high chance we’ll clash with the Count of Tread again.”

“Huh? Again? We just drove them out, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. In the worst-case scenario, we might have to go to war.”

“…War?”

What… was he saying?

Mikkelsen, Beryl, and the other members of the Maw Unit stared with wide eyes.

Malion continued in a calm, analytical tone.

“At this point, our house has the justification. If we swiftly initiate negotiations and put pressure on the surrounding houses on all fronts… we could secure a deal at minimal cost.”

“Is there no way we can preemptively pressure the Tread side from our end?”

In response to Cobalt’s question, Malion shook his head.

“In Luden Shire, there are many places that trade weapons with the Tread side. It won’t be easy. On the contrary… we could end up handing them the moral high ground.”

“So in the end, we’ll have to give up at some point.”

As Cobalt’s expression darkened and the conversation paused briefly, Engelmann raised his hand and added,

“Then wouldn’t it be better to just sell the port at a good price? Perhaps we could focus our efforts in that direction…”

Surrounding Cobalt, the retainers began to gather and seriously share their thoughts.

Mikkelsen, who had been listening in silence, turned his head with an incredulous expression and asked Manton,

“Why are they all talking like this? As if giving up the port is the obvious choice…”

“Well, because it’s the Count of Tread we’re dealing with.”

At that moment, Mikkelsen furrowed his brow and said,

“But we went through hell building that port… defending that place was a nightmare, and now they’re just giving it up that easily? Does that make any sense to you, Commander?”

Manton closed his eyes tightly and bit his lip as if holding back his frustration before answering.

“That’s the wise choice. It’s better to minimize the damage than to provoke a greater disaster by going head-to-head with the Count of Tread.”

“Say something, Brother Beryl.”

Mikkelsen looked to Beryl with pleading eyes, but Beryl also shook his head.

“You heard them. The opponent is the Count of Tread. It can’t be helped.”

At those words, Mikkelsen’s eyes narrowed.

When he looked forward, he saw the retainers discussing how best to retreat, and when he looked to the side, he saw the knights sighing in resignation.

‘No way… no matter how bad it is…’

Why is everyone jumping to the idea of giving up so quickly?

It was at that moment.

“Attention for a moment.”

At the sound of a voice nearby, everyone’s gaze turned in one direction.

There stood Hardin, wearing a sly smile on his face.

Malion asked with a puzzled expression,

“What is it, Brother?”

“Well… everyone seems to be debating what to do about the port, and I have an idea too.”

“What is it?”

“How about we just fight them?”

With a bright, shameless smile, Hardin said it casually.

Malion furrowed his brows and asked again.

“…Excuse me?”

“If those bastards from the Count of Tread’s house come to attack, we just smash them. Then we don’t need to give up the port.”

At those words, Malion narrowed his eyes.

‘Here we go again.’

‘Why is he like this?’

‘…There’s a time and place for jokes, you know.’

The retainers let out heavy sighs.

It’s not even worth arguing.

Malion shook his head silently and looked toward Cobalt.

“Father, wouldn’t it be better to continue this conversation in the conference room?”

“Ahem, yes, that might be best.”

“Everyone, let’s move to the conference room. The sooner we settle this, the better.”

“Understood!”

At Malion’s words, he turned and the retainers began following him.

Then—

Swoosh!

“Ehh, why are you ignoring me like that! I’m telling you, we should just fight!”

Hardin spread his arms wide and quickly blocked Malion’s path.

Malion let out a deep sigh and asked in a cold tone,

“Brother, are you serious about that?”

“Yeah, of course I am.”

“Do you even know what kind of power the Count of Tread holds?”

“Sure, I know well.”

“Do you know how much their population differs from ours?”

“Roughly… five times more?”

Crack.

At Hardin’s nonchalant reply, a vein popped on Malion’s forehead.

“And the number of knights?”

“That’s probably about the same, isn’t it?”

Hardin shrugged as he replied.

Crack.

The vein on Malion’s forehead bulged even more prominently.

“What about the difference in naval power?”

“Well, we don’t have a single ship, so…”

At that moment—

“Aaarrgh! How can someone who knows all that say such things?!”

Malion shouted as if spitting fire.

But Hardin once again shrugged, his face still full of amusement.

“But what can we do? We’re going to have to fight.”

“We won’t fight! Absolutely not!”

As Malion pushed past Hardin’s shoulder—

Hardin scratched his head and muttered.

“That won’t be so easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you. Even if we don’t want to… we’ll have to fight.”

“What?”

And then—

“Uh, huh?”

“Someone’s approaching!”

At the knights’ shouts, everyone’s eyes turned in that direction.

And then…

Hiiiiing!

A man on horseback could be seen riding toward them.

‘Wait… isn’t that…?’

‘That silhouette… it looks familiar somehow.’

Step, step.

A man approached on a large warhorse, sitting tall with a straight back.

As he drew closer, a few people widened their eyes in recognition.

Then, when the man finally reached them—

Hiiiiiiing!

The horse neighed and shook its head, coming to a stop.

Thud!

The man dismounted lightly, kicking up sand as he landed, then bowed his head and said,

“It's good to see you again, Viscount Cobalt.”

Cobalt blinked blankly.

A man with a rough face and an eyepatch over one eye.

“Benjamin… Lieutenant?”

It was Lieutenant Benjamin, the right-hand man of Princess Medeia.

---

Shortly after, in the second-floor conference room of the port administration building.

All the core figures—Viscount Cobalt, Malion, and the Daphne retainers—were seated around the table.

“What?”

“Is that… really true?”

Everyone's mouths were agape.

Why such a reaction, you ask…

“Yes. Her Highness clearly stated it herself,”

Lieutenant Benjamin said in a firm tone, seated across from the lord.

“She wishes for the Daphne Viscounty to protect Mudside.”

“……”

“Of course, this isn’t a command. Think of it as… a request.”

She wants us to protect… Mudside?

Everyone fell silent, their bodies turning stiff like stone.

It almost felt like a blizzard was sweeping through the conference room.

Though Benjamin presented it as a request…

‘A request? How do you say no to a princess?’

‘Damn it…’

They all understood.

Refusing this meant opposing Princess Medeia herself.

No matter how weakened the royal family might be, for the current Daphne, that kind of pressure was like being crushed under the weight of cotton pressed with a boulder.

At that moment, Hardin let out a sly grin and said,

“Well now… what can we do? Looks like we’ll have to fight after all.”

Zing.

The rest of the house members glared at Hardin for a moment.

‘Read the damn room, will you?’

‘Please, just stop!’

What? What did I do?

Of course, Hardin met their looks with an utterly unbothered expression.

Then, Cobalt finally broke the silence and spoke again.

“Is it absolutely necessary that we fight?”

“Why do you ask?”

Benjamin replied, and Cobalt licked his dry lips before saying,

“I’m well aware that Her Highness holds a special concern for Mudside.”

“She’s not just paying attention—at this point, it’s the biggest investment of her life.”

As Benjamin spoke while casting a sidelong glance at Hardin, a shadow fell across Cobalt’s face.

He looked like a man carrying the weight of guilt.

Cobalt spoke again.

“But our opponent is the Count of Tread’s house.”

“So what?”

“Even if we fought, the odds of victory are slim. The port, and perhaps even our entire house, could be destroyed. Isn’t it better to seek negotiation instead?”

As Cobalt trailed off, Malion followed up.

“That’s right. If we proceed with negotiations as planned, we could recover a significant portion of the ten million gold Her Highness invested. That would also help minimize her losses.”

At that, Benjamin sighed and continued in a quiet voice.

“This isn’t just a matter of money.”

“That is…”

“She invoked a Fabione—a request one can make only once in a lifetime—and even attended the Daphne social gathering. You’re fully aware of what it means when a royal lends such open support to a single house… aren’t you?”

“I… I apologize.”

At that moment, Viscount Cobalt’s shoulders slumped.

‘W-We’re doomed.’

‘There’s no way out of this.’

‘Damn it…’

The retainers looked like they were being dragged to the slaughterhouse.

But what could they do? Not a single person present could refute Benjamin’s words.

After a long pause, Viscount Cobalt finally opened his mouth.

“I fully understand what you’re saying. But…”

Then he closed his eyes tightly and continued with difficulty.

“Even so, we cannot fight the Count of Tread’s house.”

“…You cannot?”

“I am the head of a noble house. Even if Princess Medeia punishes me severely… I cannot make a decision that would mean the death of everyone in my family.”

“……”

A declaration full of firmness and resolve.

At that, Benjamin stroked his chin for a moment, then tilted his head slightly and replied.

“Why is it that you never consider the possibility of winning against the Count of Tread?”

“What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious it’s impossible, realistically speaking?”

“Well, I think it’s more than possible.”

“What are you saying?”

As Cobalt’s brow furrowed, Benjamin lifted the corners of his lips and replied,

“Her Highness… said she would send reinforcements to support your battle.”

“…What?”

It was the moment everyone’s eyes widened like saucers.

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