Chapter 67: The Target is the Port.
The word “port” alone was enough to make one’s heart swell.
Hardin’s face was filled with excitent.
Malion held up a piece of parchnt and slowly began to speak.
“First of all, the surveying required for the port construction was completed a week ago. Based on that, I’ve already commissioned the design to the craftsn, and I’ll report the exact tiline and budget as soon as I have them. However… it will proceed within the limits that won’t burden the family’s finances.”
“Yes, it’s important not to overdo it.”
“Hoho, a port… I’m excited. How many ships will it be able to dock?”
“We’re thinking of a size that can accommodate up to thirty ships. Though we’ll know the specifics once we receive the blueprint.”
Cobalt and the retainers nodded.
Seeing that, Hardin crossed his arms with a satisfied smile.
“Phew, thirty? That’s quite bold from the start.”
Compared to the days in Venetus, it was only half the size.
However, considering the family’s current state, it was enormous.
Thirty sailing ships from different rchant guilds and noble families docked in one place, with sailors staying in Mudside, using inns and eating als.
If it turned out like that, then Mudside would inevitably grow from a re coastal village into a grand port city.
‘Just the thought of it is already making my chest swell with pride.’
While Hardin was beaming, Malion adjusted his glasses and answered.
“Yes, I figured that much was necessary to ensure operations proceed smoothly.”
“Yes, if you’re from Daphne, you should have at least that much boldness. Get it going quickly. Hohoho!”
“I’m already looking forward to it.”
As the warm atmosphere continued, Malion went on.
“If the port is built as I expect, I anticipate the catch will increase at least fivefold.”
“Fivefold? That’s an impressive outco.”
“You’ve worked so hard, Third Young Master.”
“Hard work? No, the real effort was from my brother who reclaid Mudside.”
When the retainers offered words of praise, Malion smiled with pride and looked at Hardin.
But for so reason, Hardin’s eyebrows twitched.
‘Hmm? Did I just hear sothing strange?’
Hardin scratched his forehead and asked again.
“Uh, wait a second. Malion, what did you just say?”
“I said it was Brother who truly did the hard work…”
“No, not that. You said sothing about the catch.”
“Yes, I said that once the port is built, the catch will increase fivefold.”
“Why would the catch increase from building a port?”
Malion tilted his head and answered.
“Well, because the number of fishing boats that can dock will increase.”
“The number of fishing boats will increase?”
“Yes, didn’t I ntion it earlier? That we’ll be able to dock up to thirty ships.”
“…”
In that mont, Hardin’s body stiffened.
“Are those thirty ships you ntioned fishing boats, by any chance?”
“Yes, of course they are. Isn’t that obvious?”
Blink, blink.
Hardin blinked blankly, repeatedly closing and opening his eyes.
Bang!
Suddenly, he slamd the desk hard and shot up from his seat.
“Hey now, what are you all talking about? If you’re only going to dock fishing boats, that’s a wharf or a ferry dock, not a port!”
“But it’s large enough to dock thirty ships, isn’t it? That should be more than enough to call it a port.”
“That’s right, Young Master.”
When Malion looked at the retainers, they all nodded in agreent.
But Hardin clenched his fists and shouted with an expression that said, “What nonsense is this?”
“Of course I ant thirty sailing ships! Sailing ships! Only when we can dock that many can we call it a proper port!”
“…”
In an instant, silence fell over the eting room.
Everyone stared at Hardin in disbelief.
‘What kind of nonsense is that?’
‘Thirty sailing ships? That’s completely unrealistic…’
Malion let out a deep sigh and asked again.
“Brother, thirty sailing ships?”
“Yes, sailing ships.”
Hardin replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and Malion’s brow furrowed.
“Please be serious. What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Nonsense?”
“Do you understand what it ans to build a port that can dock thirty sailing ships?”
“What aning is there in building a port? You just build it.”
Malion was montarily at a loss for words, his mouth hanging open, when Viscount Cobalt pressed his temple with his fingers and spoke up in his place.
“Hardin, if we’re talking about a port that can accommodate thirty sailing ships… even if you search the entire eastern coastline, there are probably fewer than five such ports.”
“Really? Then we’ll be the family that owns the sixth one.”
Do they not understand what I’m saying?
Or… did I say sothing that could be misunderstood?
As the lord let out a faint groan, Malion slowly raised his head again and asked.
“Brother, do you intend to build a trade port in Mudside? Like the old Venetus?”
“Of course. Why else would we have gone through all that trouble?”
“…What?”
When Hardin nodded without hesitation, Malion was thrown into confusion.
“A trade port…?”
It wasn’t entirely absurd.
The sea at Mudside stretched like tendrils deep into the Empire’s interior. Aside from the swift currents, its geographical features weren’t bad.
And most importantly, there wasn’t a sizable trade port in the surrounding area.
Because of that, rchant guilds and noble families that relied on trade were forced to use land routes or pay expensive fees to use far-off trade ports.
What if they could really build a trade port in Mudside?
‘We could absorb all that demand.’
But that was only an ideal scenario, possible only if everything went perfectly according to plan.
Malion adjusted his glasses out of habit.
‘When has anything ever gone perfectly in this world?’
They would have to hire a massive labor force, construct the infrastructure to accommodate them, build a cargo yard for transporting goods, pave roads to the manors, and finally obtain official approval from the Empire for establishing a trade port.
And most importantly, even putting aside all those towering tasks, the current state of the family lacked the most crucial thing.
Malion let out a deep sigh and spoke.
“…Ten million gold.”
“Huh?”
“To build a trade port on the scale you ntioned, Brother, it would require at least ten million gold.”
“Ten million gold?”
“Yes.”
As Hardin scratched his chin, the retainers beside him spoke with grim expressions.
“To build a port capable of docking thirty sailing ships, you’d need foundation work, breakwater construction, and an enormous number of laborers. What you’re suggesting right now is completely unrealistic, Young Master.”
“Ten million gold… how could our family possibly afford such an astronomical sum?”
At that, Hardin tilted his head and replied.
“Well, we just need to raise it. It’s not like it’s impossible.”
Excuse ? That’s absolutely an astronomical amount of money.
Ten million gold isn’t so common dog’s na…
As the look of shock deepened on everyone’s faces, Viscount Cobalt shook his head and spoke.
“Hardin, there isn’t even a single million gold in the family’s treasury right now. How do you plan to raise such a huge amount?”
“We’ll just get investnt. Simple as that.”
“Investnt?”
What is he even saying?
Malion’s expression twisted.
“Brother, who in the world would invest such a large sum in our family?”
“Why not? If you search, you’ll find soone.”
“There isn’t anyone. Absolutely not.”
“Why are you so sure?”
“I’m just stating the facts.”
As Malion replied coldly, Hardin shrugged and responded.
“Then I’ll go find soone who’ll invest. Just consider that it’s happening, everyone.”
Thud!
With that, Hardin exited the eting room.
“…”
A mont of silence followed.
Then Viscount Cobalt let out a deep sigh and spoke with a voice filled with concern.
“This ti, Hardin’s actions seem too excessive.”
“Of course they are.”
“The Young Master is right!”
The retainers quickly chid in with agreent.
From the territorial war to the liberation of Mudside—
Everyone knew how much Hardin had accomplished so far.
But still—
‘This ti, even for the Young Master, it’s a no.’
‘A trade port… and ten million gold…’
With the family’s current situation, raising that kind of money was impossible from the start, and even if they sohow did, there were certainly better ways to use it.
Moreover, everything Hardin had accomplished so far had been with the sword.
This wasn’t his area—administration and managent were completely different matters.
“Phewwww… Malion.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Keep a close watch on Hardin.”
“Yes! Of course I will.”
Malion replied with a determined voice, furrowing his brow with resolve.
---
Midday, inside Malion’s room.
“Nnngghhh…”
Seated at his desk, Malion was writing on a blank parchnt with a lead stylus.
With a grave expression, he pressed each letter firmly as he wrote.
Then it happened.
“Are you still not done, Malion?”
“A-almost finished, Brother.”
From the bed, Hardin—holding a bundle of parchnt in one hand and chewing on jerky—lifted his head slightly and called out to Malion.
“Hey, if you leave it to , I’ll take care of it. Why bother putting yourself through all this?”
“No, Brother. If it’s about writing letters… that’s my duty. I am the steward of the family, after all.”
A troubled smile rose on Malion’s face.
Dark shadows hung under his eyes, and his lips were dry and cracked.
‘I’m so tired…’
But Malion didn’t stop his hand.
What he was writing now was a letter requesting investnt for the port construction project.
Once Malion finished drafting these letters, they would be sent to relevant noble houses through carrier pigeons and the retainers traveling outside the territory.
The problem was that while letters were going out, hardly any were coming back.
And even when replies did arrive, they were, of course, mostly refusals.
“Ughh… my arm…”
As Malion massaged his palm and stretched, Hardin swung his leg casually and spoke.
“Your arm hurts? That’s why I said to just let take care of it.”
“N-no, Brother. It’s just a bit stiff, that’s all.”
Malion quickly shook his head.
‘I absolutely must not let Brother handle this.’
A few days ago, Malion had seen a letter that Hardin had written—with the Lord himself.
Just rembering the content was enough to make Malion break into a cold sweat and drain the color from his face.
Sure, that man had solved major issues for the family recently, but only when it ca to wielding the sword.
‘Securing investnt isn’t sothing you can just force through like swinging a sword.’
Even now, he felt a tightening in his chest.
Then, Hardin let out a long sigh and asked again.
“Shouldn’t I just go out and secure the investnt myself right now?”
“No, Brother. Please continue reviewing those docunts. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Nnngghhh… is that so.”
Hardin let out a frustrated groan as he read through the parchnt in his hand.
It was a list Malion had prepared—noble families and rchant guilds in the region that might potentially invest.
Once Hardin made a selection, Malion would draft and send letters on his behalf.
Thanks to this setup, Malion’s arm felt like it might fall off, and the shadows under his eyes only grew longer and deeper...
‘If I just let him act on his own, everything we’ve built so far could co crashing down.’
This ridiculous idea of constructing a port.
If Hardin saw for himself, again and again, that there were no houses willing to invest, then he would eventually co to terms with reality and back down.
Malion was sacrificing himself.
To show his brother the truth, for the peace of the family...
Hardin let out a long sigh and asked again.
“Malion, do I really have to choose soone from this list?”
“Yes, of course. Those are the only ones with even the slightest chance.”
“Really? Sohow, none of them appeal to .”
Of course none of them would.
Would anyone in their right mind invest that much in our family at this point?
Malion cursed silently through his eyes, unable to scream it aloud.
Then, Hardin exhaled loudly through his nose and tossed the parchnt to the side.
“Tch, boring. This is getting us nowhere.”
He slumped down, practically lying back, and lazily picked up a journal that had been rolling around the bed.
It was a sort of bulletin regularly sold by the information guild, filled with news—or rather, gossip—from all corners of the Empire.
Things like “100 Orcs vs. 10 Trolls,” ghost stories spreading across the Empire, and other absurd yet oddly captivating stories.
Even Malion had been subscribing to it, since despite being useless, it was often intriguing.
“The current status of the Empire’s Seven Great Beauties, huh…”
With a bored, idle look on his face, Hardin muttered to himself like so jobless shut-in, flipping through the journal.
He looked tired, drained sohow.
Watching him from the corner of his eye, Malion slowly licked his dry lips.
‘Looks like he’s starting to wear out.’
Yes, surely even Brother isn’t so foolish that he wouldn’t recognize reality by now.
That getting investnt for sothing like a trade port is impossible.
That there isn’t a single sane noble house willing to invest that kind of money in our family.
They had already sent letters to dozens of places, even sent retainers out multiple tis—yet there had been no replies. Anyone with eyes could see what that ant.
‘Just a little more.’
Then Brother would surely give up cleanly.
The thought that his ordeal was finally approaching its end made the corners of Malion’s mouth twitch with anticipation.
While a long silence settled over the room—
Suddenly, Hardin turned his head slightly and asked,
“Malion, mind if I ask you sothing?”
“What is it, Brother?”
“You see here, in the section about the Empire’s Seven Great Beauties—there’s soone called the Fourth Princess deia. Do you… know anything about her?”
At that, Malion swiftly turned around and responded to Hardin.
“Princess deia the Fourth? I don’t know much in detail… but why do you ask?”
Malion tilted his head, puzzled, as he returned the question.
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