Chapter 330 - 325: Triumphant Return

Minas Tirith Port, the dock district.

Several cargo ships, sitting low in the water, were undergoing final loading and reinforcement.

Hemp ropes were cinched tight over waterproof tarps. Beneath them lay the spoils of war: preliminarily processed chitinous shells, the tough hides of Deep Sea Giant Beasts, and several large barrels of pearls and coral dredged from the seafloor.

These alchemical components and raw materials for luxury goods, rarely seen inland, were now piled up haphazardly like common cargo.

Baron Kroo stood on the pier, his cloak whipping in the sea breeze.

His face was ruddy and beaming as he directed his personal soldiers to haul the last wooden crate onto the ship.

The corner of the crate bumped against the gangplank with a dull thud, sounding as if it were filled with heavy coins.

"Careful, all of you! That's the startup capital for Alek's future fief!" Baron Kroo roared. He turned to Velin beside him, his fleshy cheeks bunching up into a broad, crinkled smile.

"Lord Velin, I must say, I'm sad to be leaving. The rye beer here packs a real punch."

Velin stood beside him, checking a list in his hand.

"If you like it, Baron, I'll have my men move two more barrels onto your ship for the journey."

"That would be wonderful!" Baron Kroo rubbed his hands together. "But on a more serious note, I'll have to empty the family coffers when I get back. I just took a look at that Newly Cultivated Land. It's nothing but a mire right now, but once it's drained, it'll be flat, salt-alkali soil. Plant those sea salt potatoes you mentioned for two seasons, let the land rest for a few years, and it'll be fully arable."

His eyes gleamed with a shrewd light—the kind of insight only a long-established landed noble would possess.

"I'll arrange for the first wave of farmers to come over as soon as I get back," Baron Kroo promised, patting his chest. "Carpenters and blacksmiths, too. You can't grow grain with only Knights."

Velin nodded and closed the list.

"Minas Tirith will always welcome them. And don't forget our agreement. Developing the Newly Cultivated Land will require a massive workforce; the farmers from Dawn Territory alone won't be enough."

"Don't you worry! I've already written to a few old friends in the south. Their lands are full of freemen who can no longer make a living. As long as you can feed them, they'll do anything you ask."

The fleet slowly pulled away from the shore.

On deck, the nobles of the Dawn Territory waved their goodbyes.

They had arrived full of doubt, but they were leaving laden with rewards.

Their ship's hold was filled with spoils of war, and their pockets were lined with deeds to future lands.

Velin watched until the fleet vanished over the horizon, then turned and headed back toward the bustling port district.

And they carried something else away with them: the burgeoning legends of the Grey Marsh Territory.

Golden Crown City, in its most prosperous tavern, the Gilded Rose.

A bard strummed his lute, his exaggerated aria echoing through the noisy hall.

"...behold the Sea Tide Sage, Velin, standing atop a colossal wave! He raised his Magic Staff and roared, 'Retreat!' And the world-devouring tide, like a docile lamb, bowed its head and receded! The Deep Sea Demon God howled at his feet, turning to dust and bone..."

DING! A Silver Coin was tossed onto the stage.

The poet's eyes lit up. Muting his strings, he bowed to the audience in gratitude.

At a round table in the corner, several men dressed as traveling merchants were huddled together, drinking cheap ale.

"What a load of crap."

A bearded merchant sneered, slamming his mug on the table. "Control the tides? If he could do that, why would he still be a Baron? He should just go to the Royal Capital and be the Chief Court Mage."

"What do you know," a lanky man across from him countered, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"I just got back from Gray Bay. The part about controlling tides might be a lie, but the great victory in the Grey Marsh Territory is real. I saw the Dawn Territory's caravan with my own eyes, hauling a dozen carts of those strange, dark-green shells into the city. Word is they're from those sea monsters, so hard that not even a Fine Steel Sword can scratch them."

"For real? All because of that... what's his title? Pioneer Baron?"

"Why would I lie to you? The whole south is buzzing with the news. They say that Baron Velin knows some ancient Secret Technique, that he can conjure land from thin air and trap the Sea Race, leaving them to die on the shore." The lanky man took a sip of his drink to wet his throat. "Besides, they're hiring everyone and anyone over there. Go, and they'll give you your own plot of land!"

The bearded merchant looked tempted. Business had been bad lately, and he'd lost a good deal of money.

"Giving out land? You think a deal that good would ever fall to the likes of us?"

"Doesn't cost anything to check it out. Better than sitting here drinking ale that's thin as horse piss."

Similar conversations were taking place in every town and city throughout the Haidi Duchy.

And so, through a mixture of truth and rumor, the name Velin was rapidly transformed from that of an unknown pioneer lord into the most legendary rising star in the Western Territory.

...

Dawn Territory, Light City.

Inside the council hall of the Count's castle, the atmosphere was more tense than ever.

Diana sat at the head of the table, still in her military attire. The ceremonial sword symbolizing her family's authority lay flat on the table before her.

The long table was flanked by all the vassals of the Dawn Territory, great and small.

Those who had fought in the Grey Marsh Territory now sat with their heads held high, their expressions proud.

But those who had made excuses to avoid the call to war now hunched their shoulders, their gazes flickering, daring not to meet Diana's eyes.

"Regarding the next quarter's military budget allocation..." an old Baron with a goatee began, his voice trailing off.

He had been one of the most vehement opponents of sending troops.

"Budget?" Diana sneered, her fingers tapping lightly on her sword's scabbard. "Sir Kaven, if I recall correctly, your own household guard has trouble clearing out a single nest of goblins. An army like that needs a budget?"

The old Baron's face flushed. "My Lady Count, it is the rule passed down by our ancestors..."

"The rules have changed." Diana stood, planting her hands on the table and leaning forward to loom over him. "As of today, the Dawn Territory has no need for parasites who do nothing but collect taxes. You want a military budget? Fine. Earn it with military achievements!"

She pulled a sheet of parchment from within her tunic and slapped it onto the table.

"This is the Grey Marsh Territory's latest procurement list. They need massive quantities of stone, lumber, and raw iron. Whoever can fill this order will get a piece of the pie."

At once, the eyes of every noble in the room lit up.

They had all heard the returning Baron Kroo boast about how the Grey Marsh Territory was now rolling in money and spent it with wild abandon.

"My Lady Count! My fief has a prime quarry! I can guarantee the output!"

"My Lady! The pine forests on my land are ready for felling!"

The council hall, deathly quiet just a moment before, instantly erupted into a clamor like a fish market.

The conservative nobles, who had previously been content to wait and see, were now the ones shouting the loudest.

Having missed out on the spoils of war, they were determined not to miss out on the profits from development!

Diana watched the scene unfold, and the great weight in her heart finally lifted.

The prestige she'd gained from this single battle was worth more than all her efforts over the past few years combined.

She sank back into her chair, her gaze drifting out the window.

The sky was still overcast, but she could already see the first light of dawn illuminating this fertile soil.