「Three days later.」
Yucatan Island, Torrent Fortress.
This large Edge Fortress had already completed its first layer of foundation and was beginning to lay the second layer of granite walls, its construction progressing so rapidly it seed to change daily. Byron, still supervising the work, watched a group of Bear Spirit Warriors building at a pace comparable to large machinery, yet he felt unexpectedly restless.
Miss Jacqueline, a Chaleon and recent addition to his ranks, sat nearby, dejected like a frost-bitten eggplant. Even when vivacious, wild native beauties with bear ears walked by, she showed little reaction. She hadn't even whistled once the entire day.
Although their anxieties stemd from different sources, they both revolved around the sa person.
"Sigh!"
The pair of nominal cousins exchanged glances and simultaneously heaved a long sigh.
Byron turned his head to look towards the Tayman Archipelago.
Compared to , Jacqueline's troubles aren't worth ntioning. So what if she's socially dead? With her thick skin, would she really care about such trivial matters?
It had started three days ago, at Bill and Tilly's engagent ceremony.
Jacqueline had finally t Catherine, Countess Grendel—also known as the "Flower of the North" and the "Mithril Dragon"—who was at the International Port due to an order from the Kingmaker. As the International Port's status grew, Catherine's own prestige naturally skyrocketed. Moreover, her stunning, world-class beauty and her economic prowess—deftly managing the International Port's finances and the Pioneer Bank—had made her one of the most dazzling jewels in the entire Bantaan Archipelago. Even her Legend Level was skyrocketing, likely soon to reach the 20-point threshold that would grant her a unique title effect.
She undoubtedly captivated all the international guests, even stealing much of the lilight from Miss Tilly, the bride-to-be. Although, Tilly didn't have much lilight to begin with; any attention directed her way seed to et an immovable object and bounce right off.
Many sought to connect with Catherine, and so even presumptuously longed for her affections. And Jacqueline, a Chaleon who beca quite lecherous at the sight of beautiful girls, was among them.
When Catherine entered the exclusive garden rest area for noblewon, Jacqueline had barely begun to make her move when Catherine—forewarned by Byron—bound her with a Mithril chain and hung her from a tree. This was done in full public view. She even had a Mithril gag stuffed in her mouth, the exterior of which was shaped into an ornate, vibrant rose. This Chaleon, facing the Mithril Dragon, seed utterly suppressed by a dominant bloodline, leaving her no room to resist.
She wasn't taken down until the ceremony ended, and she was still traumatized by it.
"Aaaargh! My image in front of all the beautiful girls is ruined! My life is bleak, utterly devoid of light! And the happiness of those thousands of beautiful girls is gone too!"
It could be said that this incorrigible individual was now socially dead in the upper echelons of the Bantaan Archipelago, especially within female circles. She no longer possessed the courage to approach those noblewon. Every ti she recalled that mont, she wished she could dig her toes into the ground and excavate Torrent Fortress for Byron on Yucatan Island herself, just to hide her embarrassnt.
Catherine thus beca a hero in high society. Every eligible bachelor who ntioned her lauded her for punishing the "nuisance," giving her a figurative thumbs-up.
Byron's distress was also related to Catherine. Because today was... the day Violet was due to arrive at the port!
And this Bay Citizen Princess certainly didn't play by the rules. Claiming the Ecclesiastical Tribunal was pursuing them and insisting she needed a new identity with no ties to her past, she adamantly refused Byron's offers to help with arrangents. She declared her intention to appear at Torrent Fortress in a manner he would never anticipate.
Byron couldn't help but scratch his head in frustration.
I've already told her about my family situation, and she's seen from the Lighthouse Weekly that I have a Mithril Dragon sister. She also knows how a Mithril Knight of the Gold Sequence views money. Yet, she disagreed with my plan to manage Georgetown Port and Torrent Fortress separately, arguing that since we're family, there's no need for such clear distinctions. But I suspect Violet simply can't bear the thought of parting with the vast sums of money my sister manages at Pioneer Bank.
Everyone knows how staggering the costs of heavy-asset investnt models are, not to ntion the incredibly long return cycles and the enormous risks involved. Byron had never disclosed the overall plans for Torrent Fortress to Catherine, nor the existence of Violet, that super money-guzzling beast. He mainly worried that if he were to honestly explain everything to Catherine, showing her the bloody financial deficits year after year from investing in heavy assets, she might actually die of shock.
But Violet, an expert in spending, had her own theories. She argued that for foundational industrial construction to move from paper to reality, the initial stages would invariably be a bottomless pit for funds. It wasn't just about investing their own money; it was also about finding powerful investors and, when necessary, issuing bonds on a large scale. Such a massive capital requirent, without the support of Catherine, the Mithril Dragon, ant their secretive efforts would inevitably lead to a collapse of their funding chain.
If the finance officer—Catherine—was psychologically prepared in advance, she would presumably be better able to... withstand the shock when the ti ca.
So, where exactly did she go? And what kind of surprise is she planning for ? I just hope it doesn't turn into a fright.
The more he thought, the less confident he felt. He couldn't resist taking out the Echo Conch and asking again, "My lady, are you sure everything's alright over there?"
By now, they were close enough for instant communication.
On the other end, Violet, an old hand at this, cradled the conch between her shoulder and ear, her tone relaxed as she replied, "Don't worry, leave it to . No matter how promising a project is, advancing it requires a certain finesse. You're just worried your sister can't handle the shock, aren't you? And it just so happens that for a research and developnt professional, the most crucial skill isn't innovation, but the ability to secure sponsorships and research funding. When you ordinary people spend money, it's called 'consumption.' But when we Artisans spend money, that's called... 'investnt'! How about we make a bet? If I pull this off today, you'll have to call 'Big Sis' three tis too. Bye-bye..."
Then the girl ended the call, raised her hand, and tore down a "Talent Recruitnt Notice" posted in the most conspicuous location of the Great Tayman Island International Port.
At this ti, Violet, unbeknownst to Byron, had quietly made her way to Georgetown Port. Her appearance had changed once again, a stark contrast to the naval officer's attire she had worn on her journey. Her only jewelry consisted of a pair of small pearl earrings. Her intelligent and gentle features, partially obscured by a Miracle, coupled with round, tortoiseshell-rimd glasses perched on her nose, presented an image vastly different from her usual self. She wore a simple yet elegant, light blue dress, a wide-brimd white sun hat, and carried a wooden suitcase. The sea breeze fluttered her skirt hem, revealing slender, delicate ankles and a pair of white high-heeled shoes.
She exuded the air of a well-bred, scholarly lady from a prominent family, perfectly fitting her identity as a Grand Artificer. It was impossible to discern that her true profession was that of a Pirate Warlord, one of the pri suspects in the signal flare bombing incident, and a top-tier dangerous individual.
However, this new image was perhaps a little too demure and vulnerable. Especially for a woman alone in a place like the International Port, teeming with all sorts of characters. Even with public order maintained by the Storm Cloak, her presence couldn't help but stir ill intent in certain individuals.
A pirate, already drunk in broad daylight, spotted the girl—beautiful as a figure in a painting—and imdiately staggered towards her. He inhaled the sea breeze with a drunken sigh and slowly extended a hand towards her.
"Hey, beauty... co have a drink with ."
Behind him, his shipmates—presumably—whistled excitedly. Although suppressed by the Golden Law, they probably wouldn't dare do anything too egregious. Still, the re thought of bullying a seemingly delicate girl was enough to thrill them.
"Hmph."
The Artist—for that was what Violet considered herself—imdiately dropped the smile she reserved for Byron. Her body remained motionless, yet a fiery red spider darted out from her pocket, scurried onto the pirate's neck, and bit down hard. He didn't even have ti to scream before he erupted into a human torch. Within monts, he was reduced to a pile of ashes.
No matter how gentle Violet appeared, it couldn't change her true nature as the Pirate King's daughter and a Calamity Witch in reserve. Unless she was in Byron's presence, she rarely bothered to maintain a ladylike deanor. The cat-o'-nine-tails, execution by firing squad, walking the plank, keelhauling... such terrifying punishnts were rely routine for the Pirate Princess.
Simultaneously, she released the oppressive spiritual pressure of a Third Order Transcendent. This instantly sobered up the incinerated pirate's drunken companions, who completely dismissed any thought of seeking revenge and began to apologize profusely, "Ah! Your Excellency, we're sorry, terribly sorry!"
"We'll clean up Steve's ashes imdiately! We absolutely won't let them dirty your shoes!"
Saying so, they quickly took off their jackets and swept the path before Violet until it was spotless.
Clearly, while everyone was equal before the law, Third Order Transcendents were decidedly more equal than others! Such was fairness in the supernatural world. In this world, it was considered the greatest rcy if the powerful refrained from actively oppressing the weak. Many, upon gaining power, degenerated into... "entitled masters."
Violet remained still, looking up towards the Governor's Mansion, quietly waiting for sothing. In fact, this place had beco the personal Dragon Nest of Catherine, the Regent King. Besides the Storm Cloak, which could be manually influenced, the Law Network, with Royal Hound Vincent at its core, would imdiately report any abnormalities to her.
POP!
A speck of golden light appeared before Violet, rapidly expanding into a life-sized projection of Catherine. She had descended using the authority vested in the Regent King. Of course, true ruling Lords could also achieve this through the Royal Iron Law, but not with such effortless grace.
The two young won, each exceptionally brilliant and radiant in her own field, gazed at each other. One had flowing golden hair, her eyes seemingly pools of molten gold. The other possessed silver hair like snow, her blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. Catherine was nineteen, Violet twenty; in reality, their birthdays were only a few months apart.
Catherine observed the scholarly young woman before her, noting her bookish air, and frowned slightly. "An unfamiliar Third Order Transcendent, unaffiliated with any power?" she asked. "May I inquire as to your business in the International Port?"
If this was a provocation, she wouldn't mind a fight to demonstrate the strength of her Ladyship.
Violet, however, simply raised the recruitnt notice she had been holding and nodded. "Miss Catherine, the Mithril Dragon, I presu?" Violet said with a slight smile. "You've arrived at the perfect mont. I hear the Pioneer Guiding Colonial Trading Company is desperately seeking talent. I'm interested in a position, and I also have a significant business proposition to discuss with you."
Catherine's eyes narrowed slightly. "A significant proposition? How significant?"
Violet smiled sweetly. "For instance," she said, her smile widening, "earning enough to buy... the entire Bantaan Archipelago!"
WHOOSH!
Two streaks of substantial golden light flared in Catherine's eyes, like sudden bolts of lightning.
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