Chapter 48
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Port (1)
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"So, what should we do?"
Annrose's long eyebrows furrowed slightly.
She had come here to revive her crumbling family.
A declining noble house could only be restored through marriage into another family.
But the prestigious houses of the capital no longer treated the Veniard name with respect.
So, she had no choice but to consider upstart families a notch below.
Ones with decent power and reputation, where the Veniard name still carried weight, and that she could manipulate later.
The Grime family was one such candidate.
Backed by Earl Darlington and the mighty Blue Magus Knights of the central region, the Grimes wielded considerable influence there. She had been inwardly resolved to pursue them.
But circumstances had changed.
"Prince Tobias and Prince Henrik competing for the throne? Then which side would benefit us more?"
Realistically speaking, it was no contest— the firstborn, Prince Tobias.
He had broad support and a solid base. He was worlds apart from Prince Henrik, who had been exiled to the boondocks for over a decade.
So, perhaps sticking to the original plan and getting engaged to the Grimes, vassals of Earl Darlington who backed Prince Tobias, was the safer bet.
"But even if Earl Darlington is Prince Tobias's biggest supporter, there are other great nobles around the prince besides him. And marrying into the Grimes wouldn't directly link us to the earl anyway. So our position would ultimately be..."
The tail of the dragon, at best.
But...
"Prince Henrik's side is a bit different..."
Openly supporting him now? There was virtually none.
All he had were three legions and his fame as the "Knight of Heavenly Stratagems."
"But that's exactly what makes it so impressive."
That was the crux of her dilemma.
The weight of the title "Knight of Heavenly Stratagems" and its legendary renown weren't something to take lightly.
Not just for the generation that lived through Rebel King Kelkard's era, but even her own, it was well-known.
If a prestigious house like the Veniards—admittedly in decline, but still universally acknowledged—backed him now, there'd be no downside.
Unlike siding with the heavily supported Prince Tobias, aligning with Prince Henrik would elevate her family's value far more.
She might not snag the dragon's tail, but the body of the serpent? That seemed plausible.
"Which is better?"
Play it safe, or roll the dice?
"The real key is whether Prince Henrik truly intends to enter the race for the throne..."
If not, it was all for naught. Above all, his true intentions mattered most.
And the surest key to uncovering that was...
"That lion named Blake and the letter he carries. I need to know its contents for sure. Which means I have to go to Elberra Port tomorrow too."
As she thought of Blake, Annrose pulled the blanket up to her face.
In the soft glow of the candle, a flicker of strange anticipation danced in her large eyes.
The rooster's crow heralding dawn was followed by the tolling of the grand temple bells settling over the city.
Dooong!
Rubens rubbed his eyes at the slow, resonant peals and crossed into the large room where Blake and Lindelmann's beds were.
Blake was already fully dressed, while Lindelmann was splashing water from a basin onto his face.
"You two are up early."
"Yeah. Thanks to someone, I barely got any sleep."
Rubens looked apologetic at Lindelmann's words, fresh from washing up.
"Ah, sorry. I tried to be quiet... Really, my apologies, Sir Zaroph."
He had given them a separate small room and promised to work quietly on his scrolls, but it had been too much after all.
"Forget it. I can sleep on the ship. Go wash up."
"Any progress?"
Blake asked as the topic turned to the magic scrolls.
Rubens, snorting water as he washed, quickly dried his face and replied.
"It went well. The materials from the mountains proved very helpful."
Starting with the troll's molars, during their trek through the canyons and forests, Rubens had snatched up every herb, tree root—even animal feathers or roadside pebbles—in spare moments.
And it turned out they were all ingredients for magic scrolls.
Plus, his backpack was enchanted with "Permanent Lightweight Magic," a rare item that reduced any non-living object to a tenth of its original weight upon insertion, regardless of type.
So he had pocketed anything that looked useful.
"Did you make another one that turns people into toads by any chance?"
Even Blake had been mildly shocked back then.
Sure, he had once witnessed terrifying magic from an old mage who spoke to him long ago, and clashed with the barbarian shamans of the Northern Great Mountains, so magic wasn't alien to him.
But the former was ancient history, and barbarian shamanism was mostly mass hallucinations or animal control. Rubens's spell turning a healthy human into a toad in an instant? That was genuinely startling.
"No. Biological transformation magic requires special ingredients, so I can't make it now. Instead, I prepared a few for physical force, light, wind, and illusions. They'll come in handy in emergencies."
"I see."
Either way, more cards for contingencies was good. Blake nodded and gathered his gear.
Dooong!
"Let's move."
The trio finished preparing and left the inn as the temple bells tolled eight times.
Early as it was, the port buzzed with merchants and sailors, no different from yesterday.
"Hey, you the big knight over there? Blake, by any chance?"
At the spot the ship owner from yesterday mentioned, a burly young man who screamed "sailor" waited.
"That's me."
"Whoa! You're even more imposing than the captain said!"
The sailor exclaimed in surprise.
Even he, raised in this rough port, felt intimidated by Blake's build.
"Sent by the Glorista's captain?"
Blake named the ship they had chartered yesterday.
"Name's Benil. Captain Rody sent me. Follow me."
Blake strode after the sailor Benil.
"Let's go."
"Sigh. Fine."
Rubens brimmed with excitement for his first boat ride, while Lindelmann trailed with unparalleled gloom.
And...
A group of men who had been watching the trio closely began shadowing them.
"They're heading to pier 3! Report it quick!"
"Yes, sir!"
From the moment the three appeared at the port, a band of port toughs had been observing intently. One dashed off elsewhere, while the rest tailed Blake's group.
"First time on a boat?"
Benil grinned mid-stride.
Blake shook his head lightly.
"No, first on the Bran River, but I've sailed before."
"Figures. What about the others?"
"A few times."
"This is my first."
Lindelmann answered listlessly as Rubens nodded shyly.
"Right. Then this passenger should take a couple swigs of this."
Benil uncapped a metal flask from his belt and offered it.
A foul stench wafted out.
But Rubens, without hesitation, lifted his handkerchief over his face and gulped down the mystery liquid.
"Sounds young, but impressive."
Benil said, amazed.
Rubens recovered the handkerchief and replied.
"Isn't this low-proof liquor steeped in dragon's wort? It's known to work wonders against seasickness, and a bit helps you sleep. Figured it was a kindness for my first voyage. Thank you."
"Incredible! Where'd you grow up, young sir—in a port? First non-sailor I've met to spot it."
Benil gaped.
"Hold up."
Blake halted abruptly and glanced back.
"Huh?"
The three turned, puzzled.
Blake lifted his hood slightly.
He stared down the path they came for a moment, then spoke.
"We've had tails since earlier. Their numbers just increased. About fifty total now, split into two groups. All armed."
"What?"
"W-what do you mean? You sure? Not mistaken?"
"Positive. They just stopped when we did."
"Who in Elberra would bother us?"
Startled, Rubens and Lindelmann whipped around, scanning wildly.
But to them, the port was just its usual chaos.
Blake's cool gaze lingered rearward, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"They're moving again. The followers bear the emblem of the Gale Knights—I saw it yesterday in the capital."
"Gasp!"
Lindelmann's eyes bulged as he spun.
The crowd's flow shifted just then.
"H-hey."
"Urk!"
The port's roughnecks paled and shrank back, parting the way reluctantly.
Thud thud!
A dozen men in thin cloaks over vest-like breastplates strode through the gap.
Lindelmann blanched at the emblem on their cloaks and armor.
"Gale Knights!"
Shing! Clang clang!
The lead knight with a short mustache drew his longsword, and the others followed suit in unison.
"Eek!"
The blades flashed menacingly in the sunlight, forcing the port folk back further.
"W-what do we do?"
Rubens muttered anxiously.
Blake stood silent, scanning coldly.
Then Benil, quick on the uptake, whispered to him.
"Sir knight, our ship's at the end of that pier. I'll head there first—explain to the captain."
Blake gave a faint nod. The sailor Benil was sharper than he looked.
Benil slipped back subtly, melting into the crowd.
"H-hey! What do you want?"
Lindelmann shouted tensely.
The mustached knight eyed him sharply.
"I'm Samuel Luther, captain of Bricks' Gale Knights. You're Lindelmann Zaroph?"
As Samuel named him, Lindelmann swallowed dryly.
"Y-yes. But what is the meaning of th—"
"Then you're Blake. Correct?"
Samuel cut him off coldly, turning to Blake.
From under his hood, Blake fixed cold eyes on Samuel and the Gale Knights, parting dry lips.
"And if I am? What then? If not?"
"Wh-what!"
One knight bristled forward.
But Samuel's gesture and a gravelly voice halted him.
"If your name is Blake, come with us. If not, still come—for verification."
"Gah!"
Lindelmann whipped around and gasped at the voice's owner.
Dozens of swordsmen in thin breastplates, round shields, and shortswords escorted a middle-aged man and his two sons—Gilmore Grime.
(To be continued in the next installment)