Chapter 49
Chapter 49
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: Merits (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Right after the tragedy struck the old town of North Harbor.
Some people predicted a grim future for Madella.
A ship without a captain was bound to drift aimlessly.
With the lord and even the nobles in key positions massacred, what disaster could be worse?
This was a grave crisis unlike anything since Castel Kingdom had raised the white flag a hundred years ago.
Yet, even after a full month passed, nothing remarkable happened—surprisingly so.
Ordinary folk carried on with their everyday lives as before.
Farmers rose at dawn to till their fields, and harbor workers diligently loaded and unloaded cargo without fail.
The forges never went cold, and the looms spun cloth tirelessly.
Though the old town lay empty and silent like a ghost city.
The world beyond brimmed with life as always.
But that vibrant scene was invisible from Madella Castle, where the bewildered sovereign resided.
"Simon. Still no word from the capital?"
"Yes, ma'am. They've decided to hold off on all decisions until the investigator's report is submitted."
"Sigh. Where the hell is that dwarf mage and what is she doing...?"
Lady Monteir, Ileana, leaned her head against the window with a gloomy expression.
Her black mourning garb made her already pale skin look even more ghostly.
"If punishment is inevitable, better to get it over with early. At this rate, my blood will run dry."
"Please don't say that. Lord Leon didn't mean for it to happen, so surely His Highness will show mercy..."
"Even if it was a mistake, thousands died. Because of my foolish husband's blunder."
The momentum had all but concluded that Leon bore full responsibility.
Despite the territory running smoothly otherwise, she was utterly miserable.
Like a condemned prisoner awaiting only the execution date.
"House Monteir... has no future left."
"No, ma'am. Young Master Louis will grow into a great man."
"Don't give me false hope, Simon. I'd rather hear curses; it'd ease my mind."
The view from the castle was utterly desolate.
Charred walls here and there.
Beyond them, nothing but empty streets devoid of people.
But she knew that farther out, beyond her sight, things were entirely different.
"Simon. Have you recently inspected the markets, workshops, or harbor?"
"Yes. I go on patrols now and then."
"How were they?"
Simon hesitated for a moment.
It was good news, but delivering it felt heavy for some reason.
"Fortunately, no issues. Public order is stable."
"I see."
She didn't voice the obvious question: how was that even possible?
It was thanks to someone's efforts, naturally.
The problem was that someone wasn't in this castle.
"Maybe people like us were never needed from the start."
"Ma'am..."
Simon averted his eyes from Ileana's somber figure and bowed his head silently.
He knew he should deny it.
Yet, strangely, those simple words wouldn't come out.
As Lian flipped through documents rapidly.
Those gathered before him watched tensely.
Once this passed without issue, their month's hard labor would finally end.
"Ella. The weavers' guild is all set?"
"Yep! The Mendes family led the way, and all twelve families agreed to operate as a guild. We can proceed as is!"
"Good. It would've been a hassle if even one opposed."
"Pfft. Honestly, those guys just leech off money without doing squat. Opposing would be shameless."
"Miguel. True, but don't say it so boldly."
Thus, North Harbor now had a single industrial district where the Lapis Lazuli Merchant House held significant shares.
Of course, there had been some noise along the way.
But most resolved with a bit more coin from the purse.
If not, rougher methods were unavoidable.
"Sir Lian. Communication with North Harbor takes a full day. Shouldn't we address that?"
"We should, but for now, let's run our own relay ships."
Yet the physical distance to North Harbor remained an unsolved challenge.
Opening an office there was ideal, but premature.
Hiring more people was easy; finding trustworthy ones was not.
"Next up for consideration: Madella Island's specialty products going forward..."
Knock knock—
As the meeting neared its end.
Someone knocked on the conference room door.
"Sir Lian. A guest has arrived."
"Who?"
"Investigator Fyrka from the Royal Magic Division."
"Ah. Her..."
A month had passed since he'd spoken to her.
He'd expected at least one annoying visit midway.
Not that she'd stay completely away.
Either way, delaying the trip to the capital was no longer feasible.
"Let's wrap the meeting here. Good work, everyone."
"Uwaaa! Finally over!"
"Phew... Now I can stretch my back."
"I sailed over twenty times this month alone... No more North Harbor for me."
The executives, battered by a month's relentless work, slumped in their seats with sighs of relief.
But sadly, it was time for disappointing news.
"Oh, right. I'll be away for a while, so cover for me. Sorry."
"Argh! Again? How long this time?"
"Trip to the capital—at least a fortnight. Maybe longer."
"Nooo!? Work's piling up already!"
"Right! Last month was touch-and-go! You saw Miguel nosebleeding!"
They clung to Lian's legs, begging him not to go.
There was one surefire cure for this.
"Triple quarterly bonus."
"Fine, I'll bleed a bit more, pal!"
"We'll give it our all!"
"Safe travels!"
Financial therapy truly cured all ills for office workers.
As Lian entered the reception room.
Fyrka, slouched on the sofa with a sullen face, thrust a scroll at him immediately.
"Here. Take it properly this time."
"I humbly receive the royal decree."
"...You really piss me off."
Lian accepted the scroll with exaggerated, teasing gestures.
Fyrka scowled and glared at him.
"You're such a bad omen. Working even on festival day?"
"You actually did your job? Seemed like you were hanging around here."
"What? How'd you know..."
He'd sensed the noise from her magic in the city now and then.
Especially the fireworks finale on midsummer eve, which had been quite the spectacle and topic of conversation.
The sponsoring office knew nothing of that grand finale.
"Dragon fireworks. Super flashy."
"You... saw?!"
"That loud? Blind if you missed it."
Caught enjoying the festival in secret, she flushed with embarrassment.
Fyrka's ears turned bright red.
Still, pleasing the people was commendable.
Respecting her wish for secrecy, he let it drop.
"What? Business done—scram."
"Escorting you to the capital is my mission too."
"Need time to pack. Come back tomorrow."
"No! Can't delay anymore!"
Age aside, she was one pesky kid.
But after she'd waited a month, asking for one more day felt inconsiderate.
"Fine. Only fair to compromise once. I'll pack—wait here."
"Hmph! Hurry back!"
Lian left the reception room and headed straight to his room.
Not much to pack, but Isabel worried him.
She hadn't looked pleased last month when Fyrka visited after their prior talk.
"Isabel. Got a moment?"
"Yeah. Didn't a guest come?"
"That's why. Heading to the capital with her right now."
"Oh?"
Isabel replied indifferently without looking up from her book.
"Go. Since when do you ask permission for that?"
"Still newlyweds—feels like I'm away too much."
"You know it?"
She was clearly upset.
Even a novice husband knew bolting off now would leave regrets.
"No choice. Royal reward awaits."
"Honestly, if it's just gold, I don't need it."
"Who knows? Maybe that title you want."
"Nah, not that big a deal."
Thorns laced every barbed word from her lips.
Lian approached Isabel, lounging sideways on the sofa, and gently took the book from her hand.
Then he wrapped his arms softly around her waist.
"Above all. The reward I want most is one only you can give."
"Smooth talker."
"It's true."
A simple dream, ordinary to others but unimaginable to him, who'd never truly had it.
"Someday, having kids that look like you and me. Watching them grow together, living happily. That's all I need."
"Hmm. Really? I think you want more."
"I swear."
"Then. Prove it."
Her arms wound around his neck, pulling him close.
"That's my specialty."
Lian held his wife tightly, memorizing her warmth for the time apart.
Then he softly mingled their breaths.
Alone in the reception room, Fyrka huddled on the sofa, cheeks puffed out.
"This guy's so late."
How much time had passed?
The one who'd gone to pack showed no sign of return.
At this rate, he might be packing for a full move.
"He didn't forget about me, did he...?"
Just as she worried he'd show only at sunset.
The reception room door finally opened.
"Hey, bureaucrat. Let's go. All packed."
"Hey! Why'd packing take forever? Oh? Changed clothes too? Keeping a guest waiting like this?"
"Your fault for insisting on today."
"Grr...!"
Fyrka's tiny fists trembled.
She wanted to kick that insolent butt.
But lacking the power made it all the more pathetic.
"...Perfume scent."
As Lian approached, a sweet aroma wafted from him—new since before.
Realizing the source, Fyrka's face burned red.
"You...! You left me hanging and what'd you do?!"
"Quiet, you Chihuahua."
"What's that? No idea, but it pisses me off..."
Truly, the day she'd see this guy favorably would never come, even in death.
She thought, and thought again.