Chapter 224
Chapter 224
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 224
Chapter Title: Appointing the Instructor
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“It’s too much for the likes of me, my lord Baron. Please, take back those words.”
Delro the elder prostrated himself deeply, refusing my command.
“The navy must protect these seas—they should serve as your hands and feet, my lord. How could an ignorant fool like me possibly handle such a grave responsibility?”
“An ignorant fool...”
What nonsense.
Even conceding a hundred times that he was some backwater bumpkin, the fact that he’d made Beskin and the Blizzard Knight Order struggle meant he was extraordinary in his own right.
“Village chief. I haven’t asked you for anything.”
“……!!”
“I haven’t questioned how you trained your villagers with such perfect discipline or prepared countermeasures so thoroughly. No ordinary person could have done that. I didn’t pry because I believed that once we’d built trust, you’d tell me yourself someday.”
“……”
“I’m not demanding your past right now, either. But are you really going to refuse even this—the first step in earning that trust—by turning down the task I’m entrusting to you?”
“...But...”
I could understand his feelings. Being suddenly handed one of the pillars supporting this territory would naturally feel burdensome.
I’d applied pressure, so now it was time to ease it.
“Even if the navy’s training is sloppy, I won’t hold it against you. If you’re still uneasy, trust in the forces we’ve brought into this territory. Your role isn’t to shoulder the entire strength of the domain. I’m just asking you to handle one cog in the machine. Is even that too much?”
If he still refused after this, I wouldn’t push further.
If he was some novice who didn’t even know his own capabilities, then I’d misjudged him.
Fortunately, I hadn’t.
“...My deepest apologies, my lord Baron. Since you’ve placed such heavy trust and a vital duty on this unworthy old man, I shall serve with the loyalty of a dog or horse.”
A grin!
I gently took the wrinkled hand of Delro, who knelt prostrate before me.
“Thank you, village chief. No—instructor Delro. I look forward to working with you.”
A man who could turn ordinary fishing village folk into a force that rivaled a knight order.
My instincts told me he would be the key to building our navy.
The continent’s premier slave market, Mercado.
Even after the elf princess fetched an astonishing 20,000 gold a few years back, leading to fewer demi-human lots for various reasons, Mercado remained the dominant force for those seeking slaves.
Thud thud thud!
“Sold! The mercenary ‘Blood Wolf,’ who terrorized the Holy Empire’s borderlands, goes for 1,500 gold! That concludes today’s auction. Thank you all for—”
As the final auction ended and people filed out, their faces were oddly sullen.
“Tch, Mercado’s not what it used to be. Lately, it’s all Empire trash or pirates.”
“Not just here—every auction house is the same.”
“Ugh, so boring. Time to quit collecting slaves.”
It might seem like typical grumbling from a few attendees, but the middle-aged man listening from the second-floor balcony had a hardened expression.
“...This isn’t good.”
For now, only one or two in ten complained, but if this continued, that ratio would only grow.
And that would be the end. Sharon Kingdom, the wealthiest of the Five Nations Alliance, would collapse overnight.
Most of the kingdom’s people hadn’t yet felt this massive wave of change, but from his vantage at the top, the middle-aged man saw it clearly.
“...Peter, you mad bastard.”
This shift began after the elf princess returned to Elunheim post-auction.
Once the elves, a force mighty enough to check the Empire, started mingling with the Shield Family under their protection, slave hunters could no longer operate freely.
And that wasn’t all. Banten rode the momentum to begin dealings with the lycanthropes too.
Sharon’s demi-human supply dried up, crippling its industry, while Banten grew richer by the day.
The middle-aged man couldn’t forgive it. With war against Banten on the table to protect this golden goose of an industry, how could the king side with them and try to dismantle it entirely?
If the fool had just ranted about abolishing Mercado himself, he could’ve been quietly killed. But dragging in demi-humans and stirring chaos? Infuriating.
“Your Grace, here you are.”
A sinister old man approached Duke Albans, who was deep in thought.
“Portuna, is it.”
Portuna. A mega-slave trader whose influence spanned Mercado and the entire continent.
“Things aren’t going smoothly, I see.”
His tone was polite, but far too insolent for addressing a duke of the realm.
Yet Duke Albans’s reaction was more surprising.
“Urgh, I’ve no face to show. The young king alone would be nothing, but the foreign powers he’s roped in are no joke.”
He seemed almost wary of a mere merchant.
“Hoho, that’s to be expected. The king knows his reforms are do-or-die, so he’ll cling desperately, by any means. So... how about this?”
Stroking his long beard as if in understanding, Portuna’s eyes gleamed beneath his bushy brows.
“Let me lend you some power.”
“You?”
Duke Albans looked puzzled.
He knew Portuna had dealings across the continent, but a merchant was still just a merchant.
What power could he offer?
“Among my clients are some with considerable might. And they... want Mercado to endure. In that sense, they’re your allies, Your Grace.”
Portuna said it casually, but the duke didn’t bite immediately.
“That’s not all you want, is it...? What else?”
Of course there’s more.
But that’s something you can never give, Your Grace. Only the ruler of this kingdom—His Majesty the King—can.
“Hoho. Grant me exclusive rights to half the demi-humans from Mercado henceforth, plus first dibs on Kosax Auction House. With those perks, I’ll recoup my investment manifold in a few years.”
Instead of his burning ambition, calm words flowed from Portuna’s lips.
“Hmm...”
Duke Albans pondered.
Not overly demanding.
Exclusive demi-human rights meant little now with none available. Priority at Kosax was worthless when only trash pirates and Empire grunts showed up.
In short, these terms only mattered after toppling the king.
Normally cautious, the duke couldn’t afford to be now.
At this rate, the kingdom’s industry crumbles.
The thought from the auction’s end had stripped his reason.
“Very well. An eye for an eye. Lend me your strength. The day I seize Mercado, I’ll grant what I’ve promised.”
A grin!
We’ll see. When that day comes, I won’t settle for just those promises.
Fearing his dark intentions might show, Portuna bowed hastily, his lips curling wide.
“I’ll make the arrangements at once.”
Entering Azanta Palace, Saladin squeezed his eyes shut as his grim premonition proved true.
Damn it, just as I thought.
That bastard Jerome wouldn’t sit idly while he profited.
“Grrr, Saladin. Long time.”
Baukalrak, wrapped in bandages, greeted him awkwardly.
He tried to sound nonchalant, but his limp, wagging tail betrayed his shame.
“What the hell happened? This make any sense?”
Saladin couldn’t fathom it.
Though outranked by Hatan and Argus in the Dragon Mountains, Baukalrak was still a powerhouse pushing past the Vanargand threshold. Ash, leader of the elf rangers, was an unmatched sniper.
These were their elites. Saladin hadn’t expected easy gains for nothing.
This force could overwhelm any noble house in the Five Nations Alliance—duke or not—short of Osiris or Ikenia kingdoms.
“Talk. How does it end up like this?”
“...Grrr.”
As Baukalrak only growled in disgust, Ash spoke up.
“...We took Jerome’s words too lightly.”
“What?”
“We underestimated the vile depths of human malice.”
Before Saladin arrived, Banten’s reinforcements—tipped off by King Peter on the duke’s location—stormed the estate that night.
It wasn’t war; with overwhelming might, as Saladin said, it was punishment. Retribution against humans who’d toyed with, oppressed, and tormented their kin.
But they didn’t know. Survivors of the slave markets’ brutal underbelly.
Or how vicious those near its pinnacle could be.
How cowardly the weak and wicked could get.
The moment they entered, their confident strides halted.
Young kin bound in the garden center. Red-glowing artifacts around their necks.
Everyone knew what that meant.
“Y-You cowardly bastards...!!”
Ash was livid, nearly mad. How low could these humans sink?!
Clank!
Weapons from the shadows targeted the bound elves and lycanthropes.
Dalton Kingdom’s famed crossbows.
Fwipp fwipp fwipp!
Powerful bolts, said to pierce knight armor, flew swiftly.
“Aaagh!”
“Grraaak!”
Screeech!
Purple-glowing gems slipped between the bleeding, arrow-struck group.
Mana bombs. Fran Kingdom’s magic weapons.
BOOM!
A scorching storm engulfed the demi-humans.
“Got ‘em!”
“Filthy slaves! How’s that taste?!”
The duke’s soldiers, hidden in the garden’s rear shadows, cheered.
Whoosh...
As the dust and debris settled, the demi-humans emerged.
But not as the soldiers hoped.
The lead massive lycanthrope was bloodied, but most elves and lycans behind endured.
“H-Hiiik!”
“Monsters...!”
As panic gripped the soldiers, Ash, behind Baukalrak, gritted her teeth.
This won’t do.
They hadn’t anticipated the hostage ploy, and the surprise attack had inflicted heavy casualties on Baukalrak and the others.
“...We retreat.”
The next day, they smashed several duke enterprises.
That night, young demi-human heads hung at the main gate.
Exactly matching the number of businesses destroyed.
“...Never imagined they’d stoop that low.”
Blood trickled from Ash’s lips as fury overwhelmed her.
“……”
Saladin, hearing it all, was speechless.
Whether Jerome foresaw this far was unclear, but the duke’s tactics were utterly despicable.
But ruthlessly effective.
For the outnumbered duke, what better way to stall the demi-humans?
Yet it puzzled him. This wasn’t a fight ending with temporary restraint.
Demi-humans stalled by hostages, duke outnumbered in force.
Mere stalling—they couldn’t win like this, and he knew it.
……
After agonizing, Saladin reached a conclusion.
“...They’re waiting for something?”