Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Victor's Gaze
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“Why the long face?”
Swipe!
As I showed no reaction, Victor lowered his foot from the table and rose from his seat.
“What, did someone show up from a place they shouldn’t?”
Four long years had passed since the Spring Festival, but Victor’s aggressive nature remained unchanged.
“No way. Long time no see, Brother Victor. I hope you’ve been well.”
“Hmph! As if. Ever since that day, I’ve been living half-imprisoned within the family. Unlike you, rampaging across every corner of the continent.”
But unlike in the past, a gloomy emotion was etched deep in Victor’s eyes.
It was envy and anger.
His lifelong rival, his brother Ares, had been named Banten’s successor.
And I, whom he’d viewed as a mere worm beneath his feet, had racked up brilliant achievements over the past four years to claim the kingdom’s youngest-ever title and territory.
Yet Victor’s radical plot—smuggling a drake into the capital just to kill me—remained an indelible sin.
That sin had confined him to Cornwall, the Sword Family’s territory, for four years of self-reflection.
Envy toward not only his rival but the lowly pest he’d scorned, now shining brilliantly.
And anger at himself, mired in stagnation.
Those two emotions churned wildly within Victor’s gaze.
His eyes aren’t the only thing that’s changed.
The aura radiating from Victor’s entire body made it clear he hadn’t simply wasted away in idleness during his confinement.
It seemed his stagnation was limited to his reputation alone.
“I’ve heard you were appointed lord of Olivia. With overwhelming support from the royals and beyond?”
“Well, that’s how it turned out.”
Victor stared straight at me and continued calmly.
“I also heard the rumors—you smashed the Neptune Pirates flat before even setting foot in your territory. Impressive. Taking down a fleet that size like they were children playing.”
Hm?
Something was off. Just moments ago, the emotions I’d read in his eyes were envy and anger.
Annihilating the Neptune Pirates, who’d terrorized the kingdom’s southwest for so long, was no small accomplishment.
As someone responsible for subduing the island pirates himself, he had to know my feat would reflect poorly on his own incompetence.
Given Victor’s usual temperament, this calm demeanor didn’t suit him at all.
Catching my bewildered expression, Victor let out a smirk.
“Haha, what’s with that look? Did you think I’d feel some inferiority complex toward you?”
Tap, tap!
Victor gave my shoulder a light pat.
“Sure, we’re rivals now, but purging enemies from the kingdom’s seas is the mission. Doesn’t matter who claims the credit.”
...True enough.
But hearing such obvious words from Victor—the very embodiment of arrogance—was impossible to believe.
Especially after glimpsing those emotions in his eyes earlier.
“Of course, I won’t just hand it over. Clearing the island pirates from kingdom waters? That’s my role.”
Victor smirked as he brushed past me and opened the reception room door.
“My business here is done. If you’ve got words for Viscount Dudley, have at it. Next time we meet, it’ll be out on the waves. Hahaha.”
Creak!
Victor shut the door behind him as he left. Staring at his retreating back, I could only mutter to myself.
“...What the hell are you thinking, Victor?”
“You’re back, Young Lord.”
Lennen, captain of the Silver Eagle Knights dispatched south alongside Victor, spotted him descending from the second-floor reception room and rose to greet him.
“Oh, did I keep you waiting too long?”
“Hardly. I was shocked you came out so fast. I figured you’d pick a fight with Young Master Jerome—no, Baron Jerome...”
Snicker!
Victor snorted at Lennen’s quip. For the typically stoic Lennen to joke like that meant he was certain Victor wouldn’t lose his temper with Jerome.
“Do you even get mad at corpses?”
“Well, if it were my parents’ killer or my lord’s enemy, maybe.”
“Then since neither applies, I’ve got no reason to blow up.”
“Fair point.”
In the midst of their cryptic exchange, Lennen turned to Victor.
“You really had no idea?”
“Yeah, turns out I didn’t. Suspected something when I heard Olivia was granted to him, but no way to know for sure. In the whole kingdom, only our family knows ‘he’ is still alive.”
“Fate’s cruel joke, indeed.”
“Given Jerome’s ties to Julius, there’s no way he picked Olivia at random. It’s clearly to keep our family in check down south.”
Victor’s lips curled into a grin—a twisted mix of the envy and anger Jerome had spotted.
“Gotta give credit where it’s due. Jerome’s a hero now. Enough to stir even ‘him,’ lying low like a dead rat.”
Mounted on his saddle, Victor added,
“Once ‘he’ makes a move, even the mightiest sea monster will haul its lazy ass into gear. And that’s game over.”
That monster viewed the world from the same perch as Father Braum. No matter how much Jerome thrashed about, it wouldn’t budge.
This sea belonged to that monster.
Heroes had short lifespans.
Monarchs endured, ruling long into their years.
Victor was content to cede the hero’s mantle to Jerome.
Neigh!
As Victor whipped the reins toward the Sword Family outpost, he muttered,
“No matter how much the southern hearts sway, a corpse adrift at sea can’t govern a territory. We just wait for him to exit stage left.”
He’s changed.
Lennen watched Victor’s steady back and thought so.
After the humiliating defeat to Jerome at the Spring Festival, Victor had envied his talent and raged at his own lot.
But he hadn’t broken.
On the contrary, through endurance and mastering himself, he’d grown far more—in sword and spirit alike.
A hero, huh.
Lennen glanced back at the lord’s castle, picturing Jerome inside.
Then sink into the sea alongside ‘him’ as one, Baron Jerome.
Jerome would be remembered as the young hero who met a glorious end clashing with the pirate king.
Neither Lennen nor Victor entertained the notion of surviving a clash with Balak.
To them, it was never a viable premise to begin with.
Vwoom!
The space magic circle in Olivia territory blazed bright with condensed mana.
Flash!
Like a dam bursting to unleash a torrent, the pent-up mana erupted in a brilliant burst of light, revealing a group of figures.
“Ugh, my stomach’s churning. Really don’t wanna go through that again... Huh?”
At the group’s forefront, a familiar grumbling voice spotted me and hurried over.
“Good work, Saladin. No issues in Sharon...?”
“None at all!! You bastard, you knew the imperial reinforcements were coming, didn’t you!”
The spy had finally made their move.
“...Imperial reinforcements? What are you talking about?”
“That face again! Argh!”
It took quite a while for Saladin to calm down after flailing wildly in Miron’s chest and venting his energy.
“Sigh, can’t even talk straight. Fine, since you’re here, listen up. So, in the Sharon Kingdom...”
A few days before Saladin arrived via the magic circle.
In Azanta Palace’s throne room, the discussions shaping the kingdom’s future reached their grand finale.
“I...”
King Peter’s long silence stretched on. Duke Albans waited patiently and quietly, without pressing him.
“...have no intention of continuing the slave market’s current business structure.”
Duke Albans’s eyes clenched shut. In the end, he was set on that thorny path.
Hm? Hold on.
Pondering the king’s words, Duke Albans caught the subtle implication.
Normally, one wouldn’t continue an industry by saying they had no plans to keep the “business” going—they’d specify the “business structure.”
As if sensing his thoughts, King Peter pressed on.
“I’ll overhaul the slave industry’s structure. Merge it with a manpower brokerage model.”
It didn’t click at first.
“As long as Banten, Elrunheim, and the Lycansrops maintain friendly ties, hunting the Ain tribe for slaves will grow increasingly impossible.”
Duke Albans nodded despite himself.
The vanishing Ain from Mercado wasn’t solely due to Peter’s reforms—Banten’s barriers had risen too.
“If we keep on like this, we’ll collapse anyway. Before that happens, while we still have our coffers full, we change everything.”
“How, exactly?”
“Exchanges with Banten have sparked curiosity among more and more Ain about the human world. The kingdom will guarantee their safety to live and work here.”
In other words, the old model forcibly abducted Ain to enslave them.
Now, it would broker Ain placements into quality jobs that needed them.
The labor remained the same, but the agency was worlds apart.
“Intriguing, but... there are issues.”
Peter’s vision was idealistic, yet it wouldn’t resolve everything.
“Manpower brokerage won’t yield the profits of the slave trade. Do you think Mercado’s merchants will accept that?”
“We’re not shuttering all slave operations. With Olivia and the southern kingdoms gearing up for war against the islands, pirate slaves will keep flooding in. If they’re not satisfied, we’ll force their submission.”
Determination hardened on Peter’s face. Seeing it, Duke Albans backed down without hesitation.
Peter had yielded one point; he and Mercado’s stakeholders would yield one in turn.
“...Very well. But there’s an even bigger problem. Will the Ain tribe trust us enough to come?”
The true hurdle lay here. Sharon’s slave trade prosperity spanned decades.
Over those years, Sharon had burrowed deep into Ain psyches as humanity’s most dangerous realm.
Could Peter uproot that image in his brief reform window? Duke Albans was deeply skeptical.
“I have a solution for that too.”
Peter’s cheeks flushed faintly as he answered.
“Ho? For real?”
If it could instantly shake the Ain’s deep-seated wariness, Duke Albans saw no reason to refuse. Short-term revenue dips, but a path to symbiosis.
“Yes. What is it?”
“...Since time immemorial, the surest way to make peace with an enemy nation is marriage.”
“......?”
The remark was so out of left field that Duke Albans’s mind blanked for a moment.
“I’ll propose to Elrunheim’s princess, Millia. That should ease the Ain tribe’s wariness.”
Peter emphasized it firmly, as if to confirm no mishearing. Duke Albans’s expression turned utterly bizarre.
Was this a sane person’s idea?
“Pfft!”
“What, so now they’re sending matchmakers to Elrunheim, led by Sir Yorn. Probably a cooperation request heading your father’s way too.”
Saladin’s account made it clear King Peter had agonized over this for ages.
It wouldn’t satisfy everyone perfectly, but it minimized backlash and ripple effects on the kingdom.
And he even wove his personal desires into the greater good.
A touch of cute ulterior motive, but forgivable.
Especially since they didn’t seem uninterested in each other.
Saladin smirked, having watched my reaction closely.
“Anyway, Sharon’s issues are mostly wrapped up. Empire spies rooted out too.”
“Good work. Thanks.”
Swipe!
With his report done, Saladin stepped back onto the space magic circle.
“What? Still more to do?”
“Neptune Pirates cleanup ain’t over. Those guys fetched high prices. Still got folks lined up for second and third batches. I’ll have Miron and Misha escort them properly to Olivia.”
Flash!
Saladin vanished back to Sharon before I could say more.
“...That guy. Must be really scared of running into Princess Seira.”
Mouth says one thing, but his face kept sneaking those grins.
“Baron, I’ll lead this group. My sister handles the next.”
“Yeah, good work to you too.”
“No trouble at all. Nothing compared to Young Master Saladin’s heroics.”
Miron flashed a grin as the large contingent began to move out behind him.
...Meaning this many more, twice over?
No worries about manpower shortages, then.
“Won’t the baron be joining us?”
“Nah, head out first.”
I smiled in reply to Miron, already mounted.
“Got someone I need to find.”