Chapter 245
Chapter 245
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 245
Chapter Title: The Count's Shield Guards the Kingdom
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Time flows like running water. Even in the southern seas where warm breezes from the ocean had blown, the winds now carried a sharp chill.
But it wasn't just the weather that had changed.
"Spread out!"
Dung! Dung! Dung!
At the command from a gravelly old voice, a steady drumbeat echoed across the deck.
Whoosh!
The line of galleons fanned out in an instant, baring their menacing cannons toward the enemy ships on the sea.
"Fire!"
At the order, a red signal flare rose from the flagship's mast, and the galleons' cannons roared to life.
Boom! Boom! Kaboom!
"Gaaah!"
"Aaaagh! Damn it! Why does the king keep sending us toward Olivia's waters... Aaaagh!"
Under the barrage of cannon fire, the pirate ships exploded helplessly one after another.
The cursing pirates were seized by terror as they watched the soldiers impassively sinking their vessels.
It was utterly unbelievable. Pirates, known as the terror of the southern continent's kingdoms, had made a habit of mocking the kingdom navies as seals.
Who could have imagined that those same pirates would one day cower in fear at the sight of a navy?
The Olivia Navy.
Their name was already becoming synonymous with the Grim Reaper among the pirates of the archipelagoes.
"Hey! Can't you get your act together? Still fumbling because you haven't memorized the signals? You wanna end up as chum for sea monsters?"
"N-no, sir!"
Delro nodded faintly as he watched Jason yelling at a rookie from the neighboring galleon.
The kid who hadn't known what end was up had grown surprisingly capable.
'Maybe it's time to give him his own command.'
In Olivia's coastal waters, alongside the shifting weather, the once somewhat clumsy naval forces were steadily transforming into a formidable army.
"Huh? What's that?"
A soldier's remark caught the ear of Delro, who had been smiling contentedly at the troops shaking off their greenhorn ways.
"What is it?"
"Uh, yes, sir. There's a merchant ship heading this way."
'A merchant ship...'
He knew instinctively.
That ship wasn't a merchant vessel.
No sane ship would approach warships in the midst of battle.
At the bow stood a figure waving a white flag high with both arms raised.
As it slowly neared the flagship, the cannons swiveled to train on it in unison.
"Halt! Approach any closer, and we open fire."
One might expect fear at the sight of countless cannons locked on, but the man on the merchant ship remained unfazed.
"My name is Tessai."
The man's brief introduction. The Olivia Navy, locked in battle with the archipelago pirates, could not be ignorant of that name.
"Tessai?"
"That's... the vice-captain of the Mermaid Pirates..."
And the captain of the Mermaid Pirates was known by another name as well.
Amid the navy's murmurs, Tessai continued calmly.
"I've come with a message from South Spirit Martel."
Flip, flip, flip!
The file folders flipped through as swiftly as shuffling cards at a gambling den.
This was Olivia's office, where countless territorial matters piled up daily.
Most were minor issues, but Dwain wasn't the type to skim over them carelessly.
Small matters accumulated into clues for larger ones.
Ignoring the little things made the people close off, assuming the big ones would be ignored too.
Normally, Dwain's temperament wouldn't tolerate someone flipping through documents so playfully.
"......"
Yet astonishingly, Dwain showed no reaction.
He had seen time and again how meticulously Jeremiah handled her work.
"The stockpile of naval cannonballs stored in Raine Village is running out. Contact Philador Kingdom for more iron ore... And the reclamation project in Colmar Village under construction..."
Closing the skimmed files, Jeremiah proved she hadn't just glanced by issuing instructions to the administrative officials in the office.
Pfft!
'Damn, I can't keep up.'
Dwain let out a hollow chuckle as he watched her work.
The prideful Dwain hadn't acknowledged her from the start.
No, at first, he'd been utterly baffled.
-Why are you wasting resources so inefficiently? I'll reallocate personnel right now.
A cold, almost stingy assessment.
That was the first thing Jeremiah had said after reviewing the system he and the officials had painstakingly built.
Flabbergasted, he'd told her to try it herself and gone on strike for three days.
In that brief span, Dwain had no choice but to concede.
Why Baron Jerome had searched so diligently for this woman.
Why he'd said she'd make things easier for him.
'How the hell did the baron find a talent like this?'
Thinking back, their first "meeting" had been unpleasant, but Jerome was the first to recognize him too.
At least he'd met Jerome at the palace and talked. This woman had dropped out of the blue like from the sky.
Even the clever Dwain, with his "normal" mindset, couldn't fathom it.
No one on the continent could. No one would imagine Jerome had gone back in time.
'Man, he's full of secrets.'
Thud!
A thick stack of documents hit the desk, snapping Dwain from his reverie.
"Mr. Dwain? This needs your approval soon. Please handle it by today. I'm off to see the baron."
Before Dwain could reply, Jeremiah grabbed her coat and breezed out of the office.
"...Already done? Damn, I can't beat her at internal affairs."
As Dwain chuckled and reached for the files, he caught officials sneaking glances, trailing after her.
"Hold it."
They froze.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Uh, our work for today is done, so we were just heading out... Heh heh."
Dwain grinned back at their sheepish smiles, and they slowly grinned too.
"I need to head to the training grounds myself, but if everyone's clocking out, guess I'll be stuck with these files?"
"......"
"Man, with such huge changes in the territory, and me, the chief of staff, missing out because of paperwork. What a shame. Right?"
"......"
"I'd love for these files to be processed by tomorrow."
"......"
"Definitely."
With those ominous words, Dwain followed Jeremiah out. The officials, swallowing bitter tears inwardly, sat back down as they packed up.
'Ugh, damn it.'
'Someone drag that devil away.'
'Ms. Jeremiah, save us!'
He hadn't been like this before. The officials grumbled at Dwain, who was starting to act like an old fogey.
The training grounds behind Olivia's lord's castle.
The vast field, built with technicians dispatched from the palace, now hosted Olivia's key figures, including Jerome, all staring intently at Rampang.
Given their ingrained training habits, one might think slacking off like this was unusual.
But today was an exception. It was that important.
Sweat beaded on Rampang's forehead under all those gazes.
Before him lay ten massive eggs.
How much time had passed?
Twitch!
The eggs began to stir faintly.
"Oh! Finally..."
"Shh!"
Clamping Saladin's mouth as he nearly cheered, they held their breath and watched.
Crack!
Cracks gradually spiderwebbed across the eggshells.
Snap!
Finally, tiny creatures burst through the shells that had isolated them from the world, letting out small cries.
-Kieeeek!
Even as newborns, their cries carried the mana of predators, shaking the flesh and minds of prey.
Those on the training grounds, however, rejoiced at the roars.
"Success!"
"Not yet."
The hatched wyrmlings looked around curiously, then crawled toward Rampang—the first they saw—and sniffed him tentatively.
-Kiik!
After a moment, it cautiously rubbed its tiny head against his hand.
"Success!"
The onlookers finally exhaled in relief.
"Rampang, you did an incredible job. This is all thanks to you."
Rampang, enjoying the wyrmling's affection amid my praise, wiped his sweat and replied.
"Yeah, exactly. It's all my doing. So, as promised, I get to take one, right?"
"Of course. Pick any you like."
"Great. I'll take this one. It hatched first and came to me—love that. Seems stronger than the others."
-Kiruruk!
The wyrmling rubbing against him trilled happily, as if understanding.
Not just Rampang—the other wyrmlings imprinted on different masters in turn.
"Looks like a success."
As they bonded with the freshly hatched wyrmlings, a familiar voice came from the back of the grounds.
Turning, they saw Dwain beaming brightly and Jeremiah glaring at him with clear displeasure.
"I specifically asked you to approve everything. You dumped it on the officials again, didn't you?"
"Dumped? What harsh words. I just prioritized—far more important than some documents."
"Young Master Dwain, ever considered how slick your words sound?"
"Oh dear. Ms. Jeremiah, handling only internal affairs must make this broad perspective feel foreign. Different fields, I understand. Haha."
Jeremiah snapped back; Dwain deflected with a smug grin.
Left alone, they'd go on forever, so I quickly intervened.
"Dwain, looks like the plan worked. Gives us another dagger for the war with the archipelago, right?"
Dwain halted his bickering with Jeremiah to answer.
"Naturally. In naval battles where currents limit movement, wyvern knights are a game-changer. You did a huge service, Rampang."
Indeed.
After our great victory over the Cybele Pirates, I'd consulted Dwain.
On ways to bolster our forces in the current situation.
We had Rampang, the throne-seizer, endless supply support from regions, and former admiral Vidal Croit.
But the archipelago—called a maritime kingdom—was no pushover.
Fewer throne-seizers than the Holy Empire, but their mid-tier powerhouses rivaled the Empire's numbers.
Then Dwain suggested:
-Hatch the wyvern eggs.
Back when he'd crossed Death Valley in the Dragon Mountains with Hatan to slay wyverns.
Jerome had collected eggs from the Abyss Cliff nest.
Stashed in subspace with no way to hatch, but Dwain casually asked:
-Can't you use Rampang's power to summon a wyvern illusion?
Using a Heterogenous Power he'd thought only for combat to hatch eggs?
An unexpected shift. No—Dwain's lack of Heterogenous Power allowed such flexible thinking.
Asking Rampang immediately, he'd been intrigued and joined eagerly.
Of course, in exchange for one wyvern.
A fair price for success.
"Raising wyverns won't take long. Texts say hatching is the slow part—after that, good feeding means rapid growth. But..."
Dwain trailed off.
I knew the unspoken meaning.
-Wyverns alone won't guarantee victory.
Victor, expected to push hard on Olivia's merits, was oddly passive.
The Five Nations Alliance couldn't ignore the Empire, despite recent quiet.
Osiris Kingdom was tangled in Azure Flow vs. Murky Flow power struggles, no more aid.
Philador lacked powerhouses from the start.
'Even with sirens aiding sea monsters, it's even at best. Need something... more solid.'
Matching the vicious archipelago was achievement enough.
But facing the immeasurable Holy Empire too, a pyrrhic victory wasn't ideal.
Something.
One decisive piece...
Right then.
Crackle!
Communication from Delro, out battling pirates.
"Delro, what's up?"
Delro always returned post-battle for debriefs—calling now meant urgency.
-Baron, an envoy has arrived.
"An envoy?"
-From the Mermaid Pirates' South Spirit Martel. What should we do?
Dwain and I, listening together, locked eyes without a word.
Instinct told us.
This moment might be the decisive piece we'd sought.