Chapter 445: Fishermen’s Gratitude (Tasty Abalone)

A/N: I want to appreciate everyone that have been with me right from day one, it mean so much to me thank you all. I just added Elin in the character fandom. Thanks.

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O’Neill stood outside the temporary command post, holding a basket filled with freshly caught abalone.

The prized seafood had been brought back by the fishermen who had ventured to Greenville Island for the first time in years.

Before the Reavers invaded the border regions, Greenville Island had been one of Ashenford’s most important fishing grounds. Its surrounding waters were particularly famous for producing exceptionally delicious abalone, a delicacy coveted by nobles and royalty throughout the region.

For generations, the island’s abalone had been regarded as a valuable tribute.

The finest catches were often sent to the royal castle, where the emperor and members of the imperial family enjoyed them. The delicacy was equally popular among the rulers and royal consorts of neighbouring kingdoms.

Naturally, such a valuable fishing ground had attracted competition.

In the past, fishermen from both sides had frequently clashed over access to the island’s waters. Yet those disputes had changed dramatically after the Outsiders became vassals of the Reavers.

No longer content with competing for fishing grounds, the Outsiders had begun using their navy to drive away fishermen, especially those from the Eldorian Empire.

Some were forced to abandon their livelihoods. Others lost their boats, while many who dared to resist never returned home.

For the fishermen of Ashenford, Greenville Island had gradually become a painful reminder of everything they had lost.

They could see the sea from their doorsteps, yet they could no longer fish freely in waters that had once sustained their families for generations.

Worse still, Ashenford possessed no proper navy capable of protecting them.

Against the Outsiders’ warships, ordinary fishing boats were little more than helpless targets.

The fishermen could only swallow their anger and endure their humiliation.

But today, everything had changed.

For the first time in years, they had returned from Greenville Island with a full catch of its famous abalone.

More importantly, they had returned safely.

Behind O’Neill stood the fishermen who had participated in the voyage. After delivering their catch, they had insisted on accompanying him to the government office.

They wanted to thank Prince Simon personally.

The naval battle they had witnessed earlier had stirred emotions that many of them had struggled to contain.

They had watched Brambleford’s warships confront the Outsiders without hesitation. They had seen the enemy retreat and realised that the people who had terrorised their communities for years were not invincible after all.

For the first time in a long while, the fishermen felt that someone was willing and able to protect them.

Some had tears in their eyes.

Others clenched their fists, struggling to contain their excitement.

Years of humiliation had finally given way to hope.

O’Neill turned toward the group.

"Everyone, follow me. His Highness is waiting inside."

The fishermen nodded and followed him into the temporary command post.

They soon arrived at the courtyard beside the pond, where Simon stood waiting for them.

O’Neill immediately bowed.

"I pay my respects to Your Highness."

"Greetings to His Royal Highness, Prince Simon!"

The fishermen hurriedly followed his example. Several of the older men were preparing to kneel when Simon stepped forward.

He reached out and helped the elderly man at the front stand upright.

"There’s no need for that."

Simon looked around at the gathered fishermen and spoke in a calm, reassuring voice.

"Although the Eldorian Empire has suffered setbacks and its influence has gradually weakened, our founding emperor established a principle that should never be forgotten. The people of this empire do not have to kneel before the royal family merely because of their status."

He gestured for everyone to stand.

"Please rise. You have done nothing that requires you to lower your heads before me."

The fishermen exchanged surprised glances.

The elderly man standing before Simon was thin and weather-beaten. Years of exposure to the sea wind had darkened his skin, while deep wrinkles lined his face.

His appearance reflected a lifetime of hard work.

Yet beneath his weathered features, his eyes now shone with emotion.

He had expected the prince to accept their gratitude with the distant courtesy of a nobleman.

He had not expected Simon to personally help him stand.

"Your Highness," the old man said, his voice trembling slightly, "we have brought you abalone from Greenville Island."

He carefully lifted the basket.

"In the past, the finest abalone from those waters was presented as tribute to the imperial family. But for many years, we fishermen of Ashenford dared not approach the island."

His grip tightened around the basket.

"Today, we have finally returned to those waters. We owe that opportunity to Your Highness. Thank you for standing up for us."

Simon smiled.

"You’re giving me too much credit, sir. Protecting the people of my domain and allowing them to fish freely are my responsibilities. There is no need to thank me for doing what I should have done."

The elderly man rubbed his rough, dry hands together.

"Perhaps so, Your Highness. But responsibilities mean little if no one is willing to fulfil them. We have endured years of bullying, and no one could protect us. Now, because of you, we can finally return to the sea without fearing that we will be driven away."

He bowed his head slightly.

"We came here because we wanted you to know how grateful we are."

Simon regarded the old fisherman thoughtfully.

He understood their feelings.

For years, these people had watched their livelihoods disappear while powerful outsiders treated their suffering as insignificant.

A single naval victory would not erase those memories.

But it could restore something they had nearly forgotten.

Confidence.

Confidence that their ruler would defend their interests. Confidence that their children might inherit a better future. Confidence that the empire still possessed the strength to protect its own people.

"Your gratitude is appreciated," Simon replied. "But protecting the country is not the responsibility of the royal family alone. Officials, soldiers, merchants, and ordinary citizens all have a part to play."

He paused before continuing.

"Without the fishermen who provide supplies and the young men who join the navy, what would my warships be able to accomplish? A fleet cannot fight without sailors, just as a country cannot prosper without its people."

Simon smiled warmly.

"If anyone should be thanking someone today, perhaps I should be thanking you. You have raised sons willing to serve in the navy, and you have continued supporting Ashenford despite the hardships you have endured."

The fishermen looked at one another.

Some smiled shyly, while others nodded in agreement.

They were ordinary people who spent their days working on the sea. Grand speeches and elaborate compliments meant little to them.

But Simon’s words were simple enough for everyone to understand.

He had not treated them as insignificant commoners.

Instead, he had acknowledged their contribution to the domain.

For men who had spent years feeling powerless, that recognition mattered.

The elderly fisherman turned toward his companions, his face brightening.

"They say His Highness cares for the people as though they were his own children. After seeing this for ourselves, I believe those stories."

He looked back at Simon.

"From now on, our days will surely be better."

The others nodded enthusiastically.

"That’s right!"

"With His Highness protecting the coast, we can finally return to our fishing grounds!"

"May Brambleford’s navy grow stronger every day!"

Their voices filled the courtyard.

Standing nearby, O’Neill watched the scene with shining eyes.

He understood better than most how difficult these fishermen could be.

The people of Ashenford were a stubborn, independent-minded group. Many had spent their entire lives fighting pirates, competing for fishing grounds, and conducting trade beyond the reach of government officials.

Some had even become involved in the illegal salt trade.

When O’Neill had first attempted to recruit local fishermen into organised fisheries, he had encountered considerable resistance.

Some mocked his proposals. Others questioned whether his fishing boats could survive against the Red Wolves, let alone compete with the Outsiders.

One particularly bold group had even joked that his vessels would not be enough to fill the Red Wolves’ teeth.

At the time, their scepticism had been understandable.

Ashenford’s fishermen had spent years watching the authorities fail to protect them. Why should they believe that a few new boats and a handful of promises would change anything?

But today, they had witnessed something different.

Brambleford’s warships had sailed into battle and confronted the Outsiders directly.

The enemy vessels that had once seemed untouchable had been forced to retreat.

And the fishermen had returned from Greenville Island with their catch intact.

The difference between promises and reality could not have been clearer.

O’Neill finally broke the conversation with a relaxed smile.

"Old Miller, you’ve presented the abalone to His Highness. Surely you won’t keep him occupied all day. Let His Highness taste the fruits of your labour."

"Ah, yes! Of course!"

Old Miller laughed, his earlier solemnity giving way to a cheerful expression.

"Your Highness, we won’t take up any more of your time. We shall take our leave."

Simon smiled and cupped his hands in farewell.

"Very well. Take care of yourselves, and stay strong."

The fishermen bowed respectfully before departing with O’Neill.

Watching them leave, Simon felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.

Winning a battle was one thing.

Winning the confidence of the people was another.

A commander could force soldiers to obey through discipline. A ruler could collect taxes through authority. But neither method alone could build a prosperous and stable domain.

For that, the people had to believe that their lives would improve under his rule.

The fishermen’s visit suggested that Brambleford and Ashenford were beginning to move in the right direction.

And that was a victory worth more than the basket of abalone they had brought him.