The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 171. I Will Receive The Payment Afterward! (2)

Meanwhile, in the main palace where the Sultan handled state affairs...

At the very heart of the royal palace, the Sultan silently read through the letters that Zerath had delivered. There were two in total—one from the emperor of the Orias Empire and another from Grand Duke Halo.

Standing quietly on either side of the Sultan were a man and a woman: Crown Prince Clark and Nadia.

"Hmm..."

After reading both letters, including the one from the Grand Duke, the Sultan handed them over to the Crown Prince and said, "I understand the empire's intentions. Having the esteemed Commander of the Oceanwolf Knight Order personally deliver these letters is quite gratifying."

The Sultan, wearing a golden mask, looked down at Zerath.

Zerath bowed respectfully and replied, "The Grand Duke wishes to convey his deepest apologies for the offense committed by Caron Leston, the youngest of the Ducal Family of Leston."

"Caron Leston has done a great service to the Sultanate. Not only did he save the Crown Prince, the very future of this nation, he also played a crucial role in suppressing the treacherous rebels. If anything, I should be the one thanking the Grand Duke," the Sultan said.

As he stroked his chin, he recalled the contents of the emperor's letter. In simple terms, it proposed ending the long-standing hostilities between the Orias Empire and the Pajar Sultanate and establishing a non-aggression pact. It was a letter worthy of being recorded in history.

But this isn't an act of pure goodwill, the Sultan thought.

Though he had relinquished much of his authority to the Crown Prince, his political instincts were still sharp. This letter revealed one undeniable truth.

"The empire does not seem to be in the best of circumstances," the Sultan remarked.

The internal situation within the empire had to bee quite chaotic as well. And more importantly...

"It seems a new enemy has emerged, am I right?" the Sultan asked.

That was the only reason for them to extend a hand to an old adversary. No matter how powerful a nation was, fighting on two fronts was a shortcut to ruin.

Zerath responded in a low voice, "...I will answer by remaining silent."

"Everyone has secrets they wish to keep—just as the empire wishes to keep the secret that its hero was the one who safeguarded the Sultanate's palace," the Sultan said.

In other words, they wanted to keep Caron's role in quelling the rebellion a secret.

Zerath offered a faint smile and nodded, then said, "Naturally."

"I understand the empire's stance well enough. But what about the Grand Duke's? His letter contained no hint of his thoughts—only a request to take good care of his grandson," the Sultan added.

His question was a cunning one. He'd made a deliberate choice of words that separated the empire from the Ducal Family of Leston. In other words, the Sultanate was indebted not to the empire, but to the Ducal Family of Leston.

However, Zerath had already been prepared for such a situation. The Grand Duke had given him clear instructions in advance.

"Follow Caron's wishes. Since this is the mess he started, it is only right that he be the one to see it through."

The Grand Duke's decision was to entrust all responsibility and authority to his grandson. It was proof of how highly he regarded Caron's political instincts.

"The Grand Duke merely hopes that this non-aggression pact will ease the Sultan's burdens. That is what he said," Zerath said.

"Burdens, is it... The Grand Duke remains the same as ever," the Sultan muttered.

The recent rebellion had swept away many of the powerful nobles. Though the damage had been contained for now, it was inevitable that political turmoil would persist for some time.

If the empire decided to provoke them in such a situation, the Pajar Sultanate would suffer irreparable harm. Thus, this non-aggression pact wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. For the Pajar Sultanate, securing this treaty was imperative, no matter the cost.

The Sultan let out a bitter smile and nodded, then asked, "Was there nothing else he wished to convey?"

"The laws of the Ducal Family of Leston are simple. If you start something, you must take full responsibility for it," Zerath explained.

"It seems the Grand Duke truly cherishes his youngest grandson. Leaving the negotiations entirely in his hands... Yes, the Grand Duke's youngest grandson is indeed extraordinary. Wouldn't you agree, Caron Leston?" the Sultan asked.

At the mention of his name, Caron lifted his head with a smile, then said, "I haven't really done much. You keep showering me with gold, and I don't know what to do."

"You have already taken the Thousand Venom Pill from me. It is one of the royal family's greatest treasures—yet even that is not enough for you?" the Sultan asked.

"That was payment for settling the Crown Prince's affairs. Helping to suppress the rebellion was a separate matter, wasn't it?" Caron asked.

"You know how to make a deal," the Sultan remarked.

"A new weight has been placed on my scale, so naturally, you should add another to balance it. Even the closest of friends should keep their accounts straight—that's what I was always taught," Caron explained.

"And who taught you such a lesson?" the Sultan asked.

"My father did. He told me that all the time," Caron said as his lips twitched in amusement.

Watching him, Nadia said in a low voice, "Caron Leston. If I recall correctly, you helped because you owed me a debt, did you not?"

Caron responded with an utterly shameless expression, "I did help you, Dame Nadia, but in the end, I also saved the royal family. If someone catches a wanted criminal while helping a friend, does that mean they don't get the bounty?"

"You are truly—" Nadia furrowed her brows, about to say more, but the Sultan raised a hand, stopping her.

"Caron Leston is right, Dame Nadia. There is no shame in properly rewarding a friend who has done you a great favor," the Sultan said.

"But, Your Majesty, Caron Leston took all the rare liquor stored in the palace's vault—" Nadia said, but was cut off.

"Would I begrudge a benefactor a few bottles of liquor? Let us hear what the young man wishes to ask for first," the Sultan interrupted.

Beneath his golden mask, his lips curled into a grin as he gazed down at Caron. He continued, "However, Caron Leston, as you well know, I cannot grant you anything excessive. The road ahead will be arduous for us."

Unprecedented chaos loomed over the Pajar Sultanate. The Sultan knew it, and so did Caron.

Caron nodded with a laugh, then said, "I understand. The greatest virtue of a debtor is knowing the state of the lender's pockets, is it not?"

"And why is that?" the Sultan asked.

"Because if I push too hard, I'll end up with nothing. That would be a loss. So don't worry. I'm not that foolish," Caron answered.

At this moment, there wasn't much to take. Caron already had plenty of wealth. And more than that, trying to raid the treasury for a few extra coins would be like cutting open a goose that laid golden eggs.

The Pajar Sultanate was an incredibly valuable land. Perhaps it would be in turmoil for a while, but its potential hadn't disappeared. Rare spices, luxury goods—countless profitable opportunities awaited.

"What is it that you desire?" the Sultan's voice was low as he addressed Caron.

Caron looked between the Crown Prince and the Sultan, then declared with a smile, "There is only one thing I want from the Sultanate—please be my friend."

"...Friend. That is a simple yet difficult word. Depending on what you mean by it, my answer may change," the Sultan replied.

"For me, a friend is this," Caron paused briefly before speaking again, his voice bright. "Someone who will come running whenever I need help."

In the distant future, a war with the demons was inevitable. The Pajar Sultanate would play a role in that war. They had already been deceived by the demons. The royal family had been manipulated by the Queen of the Succubi and brought to the brink of ruin.

'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' There was no simpler or clearer logic than that.

And so, Caron extended his hand to the Pajar Sultanate.

"So please become my friend. I promise, it will be a choice you will never regret," Caron said confidently.

First came the demons, and beyond them were the Demon Kings.

Caron's gaze was already fixed on the distant future.

***

After the audience with the Sultan concluded, Caron had a private meeting with Crown Prince Clark and Prince Samir. It took place in the royal palace's garden.

Beneath the scorching sunlight, Caron took a sip of tea from his cup. It was brewed from the leaves of a cactus.

"Brother Samir, how is your hangover?" he asked.

After a week of relentless drinking, Caron and Prince Samir had become close enough to address each other as brothers.

Samir gave a bitter smile and nodded, then said, "The Saintess took care of it."

"Tsk tsk. Using divine power for such trivial things... Kids these days have no sense of responsibility," Caron said, clicking his tongue.

It had already been a week since the rebellion in the royal palace was quelled. During that week, Samir had come to a realization that Caron had a habit of lecturing like an old fart.

"Caron," Clark called out. Like Samir, he had also grown close to Caron. As a man of magnanimity, he had no trouble opening his heart to Caron.

"About what you said earlier... About becoming friends," Clark continued.

"Yes, Brother Clark?" Caron responded.

"It doesn't seem as if you simply meant getting along," Clark pointed out.

It seemed there was something more behind the word 'friend.'

Clark could tell that Caron had his eyes set on a particular goal. He knew that Caron was a monster, one far beyond the bounds of normalcy. And the grand scheme drawn up by such a monster was beyond Clark's comprehension.

"Hmm," Caron nodded, pleased.

Unlike the second and third princes, who had been blinded by greed and hastened their own demise, the first and fourth princes had truly been born to rule. But Caron had no intention of revealing the future he envisioned to them. There was no need to throw another bomb into an already chaotic political landscape.

"It's not important right now," Caron said. "But I'll tell you when the time comes. Ah, that reminds me. The Sultan told me to discuss trade matters with you."

"That would be Samir, actually. He's in charge of foreign trade," Clark said.

It was time to discuss practical matters.

Becoming friends was a pleasant enough arrangement, but Caron sought something stronger. Rather than simply making money, his goal was to bind them together through wealth itself. Nothing strengthened bonds like shared interests.

"Brother Samir, now that the long-standing hostility is behind us, shouldn't we conduct trade properly? The scale of smuggling along the border is quite significant. I'm sure you're well aware of it," Caron began.

Samir let out a bitter smile and replied, "They're men who risk their lives to smuggle goods. I have a general idea of the scale, but precise details are difficult to grasp without an informant—"

"As it happens, I have an informant," Caron interrupted, then rummaged through his pocket. "Now, where did I put him?"

A moment later...

Whoosh.

A surge of mana rippled through the air, and a man, frozen solid, rolled onto the ground. It was uncertain whether he was even alive.

The man was none other than Bakal, the smuggling broker Caron had captured before crossing the border.

Caron gestured toward him with his chin and said, "This man is a border-crossing broker. From what I gathered, he dabbled in smuggling as well. I've trained him properly, so he'll spill everything he knows. He's killed more people than I can count, so once you've extracted all the information you need..." He made a slicing gesture. "You know what to do."

"You're saying we should round up the smugglers and proceed properly," Samir mused.

"I'm setting up a business to trade with the elves of the Southern Great Forest," Caron added.

Samir wasn't a fool. He immediately caught on and nodded, replying, "You want me to designate your enterprise as our official trade partner? Given everything you've done for us, that's hardly a difficult request."

For the Pajar Sultanate, establishing official trade with the Orias Empire was a golden opportunity. The empire's economic power far surpassed that of the Sultanate.

"In truth, I was planning to make that request first," Samir admitted. "Not with the empire, but with the Ducal Family of Leston. That was my father's instruction."

It was a highly political move. By leveraging the unique position of the Ducal Family of Leston within the empire, the Sultanate could approach the empire through two separate channels. The strategy demonstrated the sharp instincts of a seasoned politician.

After taking a sip of tea, Samir said with determination, "Now that the major noble families have been replaced, this is the perfect time to reform the Sultanate. The wealth generated from trade with the empire will make that possible. Wouldn't you agree, Brother Clark?"

Clark smiled in satisfaction and nodded, then said, "I also think the same way."

"You have an excellent younger brother," Caron said.

Turning crisis into opportunity and tying the rebellion to reform was an audacious move. Not just anyone could think that way, so Caron was genuinely impressed. But before anything else, there was something that needed to be settled.

With a soft thud, Caron placed his teacup down and flashed a bright smile before saying, "Before that, I'd like to discuss profit distribution."

"That would be an even split—" Samir began but was cut off.

"Ah, come on. After all the trouble I went through quelling the rebellion, you're going to be stingy with me? Let's start at sixty-forty. You need funds for your reforms, while I'm not in a rush for money. And you know what people say—the desperate one always loses," Caron interrupted.

"...Didn't you say you weren't that interested in money?" Samir asked.

"The only thing that's truly better in greater amounts is money. Do I look like a charity worker to you? If you keep saying things like that, I'll raise my cut even higher," Caron said.

Samir suddenly felt the urge to drink again. He thought, ...What a ruthless guy.

This mad dog had the foresight to look beyond the present. In the end, they had no choice but to dance to the tune of Caron's silver tongue.

And so, Caron's journey in the Pajar Sultanate slowly drew to a close.