Chapter 237: The Bastard Who Spat on His Own Luck (2)
Chapter 237: The Bastard Who Spat on His Own Luck (2)
Dawson Abraham Harbor.
That was the name of the First Prince of the Harbor Kingdom and the man next in line for the throne.
As for why such a figure was being introduced so suddenly…
“What a godforsaken dump.”
It was because this man was currently in the eastern region of the Atronia Kingdom.
Why had the Prince of the Harbor Kingdom traveled all the way to the farthest reaches of the Atronia Kingdom’s eastern border?
The reason was simple.
“What kind of princess ignores a royal command? Is she insane?”
It was because this man had requested a royal marriage with Princess Isabella.
The Harbor Kingdom.
While it was located to the east of the Atronia Kingdom, the two did not share a land border. A massive bay lay between them, making a direct border unnecessary. To travel by land, one had to pass through the Magellan Kingdom.
Consequently, the two nations were close yet distant neighbors. Since they didn't share a border, there were few reasons for conflict, making them ideal candidates for a marriage alliance.
Furthermore, the Atronia Kingdom was currently the only nation on the entire continent with an abundance of food amidst a widespread great famine. The grain pouring out of the granary region in the Moana River basin—reclaimed by the Schneider family—was more precious than gold during these times.
Thus, the Harbor Kingdom planned to form a marriage alliance with the Atronia Kingdom in exchange for a steady supply of cheap food. With their war against the Dwarves still ongoing, the Harbor Kingdom was desperate for provisions.
The First Prince himself had been dispatched to Atronia to ensure the alliance was finalized. Since the Atronia Kingdom had no particular reason to refuse, everything seemed to be progressing smoothly.
The problem arose the moment Prince Dawson Abraham Harbor saw Isabella’s portrait.
[Oh… what a beautiful woman… Who is she? What? A princess? Then why wasn't she presented to me? She already has a fiancé? I don't care as long as they aren't married yet. Give her to me.]
Having loaded a fresh round of bullshit, Prince Dawson refused to look at any other princess and clamored only for Isabella.
The Atronia Kingdom tried its best to explain the situation diplomatically, but…
[What? She’s the fiancé of the Double Dragon? Even better. Isn't he just a cripple now?]
If he had said those words in the Schneider Territory, he would have been hung upside down naked in the central square and pelted to death with stones. That was a certainty.
The nobles of the Atronia Kingdom were also deeply offended by Dawson’s attitude. However…
[If you give me Princess Isabella as my wife, we will pay for the grain with armaments from our Harbor Kingdom instead of gold.]
This was an offer they couldn't refuse.
Armaments produced in the Harbor Kingdom meant Dwarven-made gear. Although the Harbor Kingdom was currently embroiled in a serious civil war with the Dwarves, it would be settled eventually. And even if it wasn't settled immediately, the sheer volume of stockpiled inventory accumulated over centuries was staggering.
The Harbor Kingdom was the third wealthiest nation on the continent. The opportunity to form a marriage alliance with such a country was far too valuable to throw away. Furthermore…
[We don't know when the Double Dragon will recover…]
[In fact, it’s questionable if he’ll ever recover at all.]
[Hmm, we must make a cold, rational decision for the sake of the national interest.]
Voices like these began to emerge. Most were from those who had changed their tune after being bribed by the Harbor Kingdom, but as their voices gathered strength, the Royal Family felt the pressure.
[First, issue a command for Isabella to return.]
And so, the King had ordered Princess Isabella back to the capital. The King cherished Patrick dearly, but with Patrick lying in a sickbed with no telling when he would wake, he had to make a realistic, "correct" decision.
Prince Dawson rejoiced, thinking things were finally going his way—at least until he heard that Isabella had defied the King’s order.
[I can't have that. Now that it’s come to this, I’ll make her mine even if it’s just out of spite.]
Dawson didn't know the meaning of the word "quit." He was the sole prince of the Harbor Kingdom. Having grown up without any rivals and getting everything he wanted with ease, his obsession with Isabella had curdled into a stubborn resolve to possess her at any cost.
As a result, he was now inside a carriage leading a diplomatic mission directly to the Schneider Territory.
“What a backward place. What’s so great about this dump that she refuses to leave?”
Dawson grumbled as he looked out at the desolate landscape passing by the carriage window. One of his close aides sitting across from him spoke up.
“Hahaha. Honestly, compared to our Harbor Kingdom, these small nations are all the same no matter where you go.”
“True. But isn't this a bit much? Can people actually live here? Isn't this where they exile criminals?”
Spoken like the prince of a wealthy nation. He was deeply disappointed by the desolation of the East. In truth, due to the recent great famine, it was hard to find a good view anywhere outside of the developed major cities, but such understanding did not exist in the mind of this spoiled prince.
“What a strange woman. To think she’d stay in a backwater like this as the fiancé of some invalid.”
“Hahaha. Her mind will surely change once Your Highness visits her in person.”
“Of course. Oh, wait a minute.”
“What is it, Your Highness?”
“Do you think those country bumpkins in the Schneider Territory are holding her against her will?”
“Ooh, Your Highness’s insight is truly remarkable!”
“Right? Logically speaking, it’s a very real possibility, isn't it?”
“Without a doubt.”
As the flow of conversation suggested, Dawson’s aides weren't particularly competent or talented. Most were individuals who had rubbed their fingerprints raw with constant flattery to catch the Prince’s eye. It was only natural that a man in power who only kept people who told him what he wanted to hear would be surrounded by such characters.
The carriage rolled on and on until it finally arrived at the Schneider Territory.
That was when the situation changed.
“Oh… Ooh…”
“Whoa…”
“Wow…”
The mouths of Prince Dawson and his delegation hung wide open.
Passing through city walls far higher than those of the capital, White Town, the view of the city within the Schneider Territory was breathtaking.
Perfectly maintained roads.
Clean, newly constructed brick buildings.
And looking at the people walking around, not a single one was dressed in rags. Usually, even in a national capital, about thirty percent of the population would be the impoverished poor. But here…
“That scarf that commoner woman is wearing. Is that silk?”
“No way. She looks like a commoner.”
“But it definitely looks like silk.”
Now that the Elves had completed their migration, the Schneider Territory was the only silk-producing region on the continent. Being the source, the price was low enough that even commoner girls could afford a silk scarf or two.
The deeper they went, the more surprises awaited them. Someone pointed out an Orc working on a new building.
“Prince Dawson, look. That’s an Orc.”
“Ho, so that’s an Orc? First time seeing one.”
Green skin and rippling muscles. Dawson nodded at the sight of a creature far stronger than any human.
“I see. If they use such a race as slaves, it makes sense how they built such a massive city.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Yes, impressive. This place is more remarkable than I thought.”
Prince Dawson was a human supremacist. While such people existed, it was a serious problem for a member of the Harbor royalty to hold such views. The Harbor Kingdom’s immense wealth came from its monopoly on trade with the Dwarves.
Thus, past kings had always done their best to maintain good relations with the Dwarves. Although they were currently at war due to a rift, the Harbor Royal Family and the Dwarves of the Iron Mountains had lived in symbiosis for centuries.
Dawson had hated this fact since he was a child.
[Why do we have to maintain an equal relationship with those short, ugly things? Why not just capture them all and use them as slaves? We’d make much more money that way.]
His tutors had been horrified and tried everything to change his mind. But perhaps it was his innate nature; Dawson would just pout and ignore his teachers. The outbreak of the civil war with the Dwarves had been the final blow.
[See? Wasn't I right? This happened because we treated those short, keg-like bastards too well. We should have enslaved them from the start.]
He had gone around boasting triumphantly. Furthermore, unlike in the past, they were now in an actual, fierce war with the Dwarves, leading some nobles to agree with Dawson’s opinion. Consequently, his human supremacy became even more entrenched.
To such a man, the Orcs sweating and working alongside humans at the construction site looked like nothing more than slaves.
And that wasn't all.
As they traveled, they saw Elves walking around casually. They weren't even covering their faces. Normally, Elves covered themselves from head to toe in black clothing when venturing outside. But here, they were strolling about as comfortably as if they were in their own home.
The people around them didn't find the Elves strange at all.
What an incredible sight.
Prince Dawson and his aides drooled as they watched beautiful Elven women enter shops and come out with purchases just like humans.
“Your Highness, what do you think?”
“Mmm, it seems the Lord of Schneider has built quite a decent place. It’s not as bad as I expected.”
“I agree. So…”
“I know. I’ll speak to the Count. What’s the harm in taking a few back with us on our way home?”
“Hahaha. As expected of Your Highness.”
Being an extreme human supremacist, Dawson naturally assumed that if he demanded it, Count Schneider would gift him a few Elven women.
And so, the prince-sized pile of shit finally arrived at the Schneider estate.
* * *
“A prince from the Harbor Kingdom?”
“Yes, my Lord. He is currently waiting in the reception room.”
Count Schneider was taken aback by Chandler’s report.
“To come so suddenly without a word…”
Since being promoted to Count, the number of visitors seeking him out had increased. However, wanting to avoid political factions, he had been politely turning most of them away. But for a prince of another nation to show up unannounced?
‘Why has he come to our territory?’
No matter how much he thought about it, nothing came to mind. In the end, he had no choice but to meet him.
“I’m going now.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
The Count headed to the reception room. There, he saw a tanned man with blonde hair sitting arrogantly on the sofa with his legs crossed. Curiously, the other men around him all looked similar. Their deep brown skin and excessively shiny blonde hair were clearly dyed, not natural.
‘What is this? Is it some kind of religious ritual?’
This was a fashion trend popular among some of the youth in the Harbor Kingdom, known as the "Gold Sun" style. Count Schneider, seeing it for the first time, was bewildered. Nonetheless, he remained composed and performed his duties.
“Ahem. I am Count Schneider. Which of you is the Prince of the Harbor Kingdom?”
“Oh, that would be me.”
The man didn't even stand up, merely raising a hand in a lazy, arrogant greeting. Count Schneider bowed his head calmly and spoke.
“It is an honor to meet Your Highness of the Harbor Kingdom. I am Jacob Schneider.”
“Yeah, sure. You’ve been working hard.”
A flippant voice, a blatantly condescending smile, and the young punks around him snickering as they looked down at the top of Count Schneider’s head. The knights watching this scene from the sidelines felt their brows twitch.
Those bastards…
How dare they… to whom do they think they’re speaking…
Do they all want to die?
The respect for Count Schneider had skyrocketed after he bravely led and defended the territory during the Monster Stampede. While he was already well-supported by his people for his fine character, his willingness to risk his life during the Stampede had moved them deeply. He was no longer seen as just a soft, kind man, but as a brave leader willing to sacrifice himself for his land.
Even if he was royalty, Prince Dawson’s blatantly disrespectful behavior toward Count Schneider had already ruined his image.
“Mmm, raise your head and take a seat.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Count Schneider sat across from the Prince only after receiving permission. Dawson spoke with a swaggering expression.
“I saw the territory on my way in. It’s quite impressive.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“You seem to be working those sub-humans quite well.”
“……”
“What’s the secret to coaxing those primitive, difficult creatures? Hahaha.”
“……”
“If there’s a secret, let me know. I’d like to learn. As you know, we have some kegs with limbs back home who aren't listening very well.”
He seemed to think he was being funny. Indeed, Dawson’s aides were giggling as if it were the height of wit. However, even the good-natured Count Schneider’s expression hardened at those words.
“The non-human races residing in this territory are bound to us by a covenant of trust. It is by no means a relationship where we unilaterally exploit them.”
“Ah, well, that’s just what you say publicly because of those noisy types. No need for such pretenses when it’s just us.”
“……”
Count Schneider bit his lip. He was famous for his kindness, but he had never met someone so impossible to communicate with. They were fundamentally incompatible.
Seeing the Count’s face harden, Prince Dawson spoke as if he were bored.
“Well, if you want to keep up the act, that’s your business.”
“May I ask the purpose of your visit to our territory?”
Count Schneider cut straight to the point. Dawson took a sip of the tea in front of him before answering.
“Well, it’s nothing much. Princess Isabella is in this territory, isn't she?”
“Yes. The Princess is currently staying with us.”
That was no secret. But the words that followed were the problem.
“Bring her here.”
“…May I ask why?”
“Why are you prying so much? Just do as you’re told.”
In an instant, several of the knights guarding the Count twitched their hands.
Shit, I almost drew my sword.
This brat is a whole rainbow of trouble.
If he weren't a prince…
No knight could remain calm when their lord was being insulted. Sensing the volatile atmosphere, Count Schneider spoke in a steady voice.
“Princess Isabella is my son’s fiancé and a member of our nation’s Royal Family. I cannot simply summon her without a proper reason.”
“Tsk, how stiff…”
The Prince was utterly incapable of reading the room. Was it because he had never had to care about others' feelings in his life? Or was it because he had never properly trained with a sword? Dawson was completely oblivious to the killing intent radiating from the surrounding knights.
When Count Schneider showed no sign of yielding, he grumbled and spoke.
“I don't know if the news has reached this remote countryside, but a royal marriage is currently being arranged between our Harbor Kingdom and the Atronia Kingdom.”
“……”
Count Schneider’s face hardened more than ever before. Dawson continued in a mocking tone.
“It seems you’ve caught on.”
“……”
“That’s right. A royal marriage between me and Princess Isabella is in the works.”
Count Schneider bit his lip and asked, “…Are you aware that the Princess is currently engaged to my son, Patrick?”
“Ah, I know. I know, but…”
Dawson muttered in a low voice.
“Your son is practically dead anyway, isn't he?”
At that moment, Count Schneider, unable to hide his disgust, stood up.
“I believe there is nothing more to discuss.”
“What? Hey… I know you’re upset, but calm down.”
“Sir Kainel.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Sanson, addressed by his title, answered immediately.
“Escort our guests out.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
As if there was nothing left to hear, Count Schneider turned and walked out. The knights then forcibly pushed Prince Dawson and his party toward the exit.
“What? Who do you think you’re touching right now?”
“It is the Lord’s command. Please leave.”
“Do you think you’ll be safe after this? I could have you all executed for lèse-majesté!”
“I don't care, so get the— Please leave.”
Sanson desperately suppressed his surging rage as he shoved them out of the manor. Regardless of lèse-majesté, a knight follows his lord’s orders. In fact, if Count Schneider hadn't been present, Sanson would have drawn his sword.
Consider yourselves lucky, you little yellow-haired shits.