“Rest easy. Our sea lanes are the most developed on the continent, and every year sea wealth rolls in like a tide. Tourists, cuisine, and ship fees all pour silver into our coffers. Think about it—anyone heading for the Royal Capital has to cross the sea. To cross, they need a ship.

To sail, they need hands on deck and steel at the rail. Even if they bring their own vessel, we sort ships by nature. First, pure sightseeing and viewing—we take a 5% tax.

Second, merchant ships. Once they pass our checkpoint, it’s a 10% passage tariff. Goods going out are counted separately.

Third, noble ships. If they aren’t our own nobles at leisure, we levy 30% to 50% at the gate.

Our entry fees come in three tiers, matched to traveler classes. We keep the trade flowing; we don’t strangle it with tax.”

“Who invented these rates? Treating nobles like that—aren’t you afraid of payback?” Suspicion pricked at Medith like cold spray, but the logic fell into place. The sea routes thrive, the resources are rich beyond imagining; the land’s shape itself supports the policy.

Any ship wanting to land must be checked. I’d bet every harbor has those ten-meter gate walls. That funnels traffic like a gourd neck—tight, controlled. Sightseers pay a small ‘ticket’ and come and go like gulls dipping over the surf.

Merchants trying to flip goods pay 10% in and 10% out—twenty percent per round. Add risk, labor, time, and profit hugs the floor.

As for nobles…

“It came from the Western Kingdom. In his day, Emperor Ogathas saw the Eastern Nation’s sea advantage and sank a mountain of coin to buy Thanatos’s maritime system—customs details, naval staffing, shipcraft, harbor works, flood control, the lot. The treasury back then was drained like an empty cistern. We had to raise taxes on the common folk and nearly walked into a storm.

But the result proved His Majesty wise.

Noble lords swim in coin. These fees are a few hairs plucked from a mane. Foreign nobles rarely hide; if their banners fly, their status shines. Money isn’t the problem. The problem is why they came.” Haidra leaned to Medith’s ear, voice low as a tide under moonlight. “There’s a quiet rule…

We’ll nudge the price up, lift it like a kite in a brisk wind. If it hits the top and they don’t haggle, we send scouts to shadow them and ask after their path.”

A chill of foreboding brushed Medith’s heart. “Afraid they’ve got other designs?”

Haidra lifted his chin and nodded. “The human heart is a forest, deeper than you think.”

Medith felt the truth in that like roots under stone. “Ah… nothing is more tangled.”

…

Fiya Port. With the ship’s bold markings like a banner on the waves, Haidra’s party slid to harbor without a ripple of hindrance. Medith watched the shore: soldiers drilling like a field of spears, ships flowing like schools of silver fish. Outside the coast ran a stone causeway, long as a dragon’s spine, cutting the water and curling into a U-shaped arm. Patrol boats flecked the surface like dragonflies. The sight struck like thunder.

“You lean on sea warfare?” Medith asked, eyes sweeping hulls. “With so many troops here, what about your inner city?” She counted at least thirty ships in view; the unseen could be a whole other swarm.

“Not exactly. Eunomia’s warriors are amphibious, all-round. Their strength will exceed your imagination,” Haidra said, pride bright as polished steel.

“So the million troops are only on land? The navy’s another number?” Milia whispered, voice thin as a breeze. “If the Eastern Nation is the weakest, how terrifying are the others?” The thought iced her spine; she shivered.

Hriii—hriii— A batch of warhorses thundered out. Black-gold barding wrapped each mount tight, leaving only eyes, nostrils, mouths, and hooves to the air. By rights, they should’ve been slow. Yet they ran like arrows loosed, faster than common stock.

“Welcome back, Commander!” The newcomers were the Dike Guard. Medith’s brow twitched. That night, Haidra sent them ahead; the next day, chaos hit. She’d thought them finished. His calm had been a veil—they were fine.

“Don’t welcome me,” Haidra said. “Welcome the heroes of Sia City.” A hundred cavalry, several hundred infantry answered his call. The three at the front were of different heights; they removed their helms and showed their true faces.

“I’ve long heard of Commander Medith—beauty like a heavenly fairy, motion like a war deity. With only a few hundred, you held off the Wild Lion and the Wolf-Star Twins. You broke the wolf’s stratagem and cut him down atop Verdant Spirit Mountain. With the Twins fallen, the hundred beasts trembled. To meet you today is an honor.” The silver-haired man tapped a fist to his brow, a crisp salute.

“And you are?” Medith asked. He had a handsome face, eyes clear as amber, skin pale as porcelain—striking, almost fox-bright.

“The silver-haired one is Mure. Don’t let those looks fool you—when he fights, he doesn’t blink. They call him the Iron Leopard, the White Rider,” Haidra said. Mure nodded.

“That buzzcut uncle is Jerome. Looks honest, right? When he burns, one slap can powder bone. His nickname is the Man-Beast. As for why—you’ll learn.” The giant, near two meters, nodded with a gentle clumsiness. His towering frame and custom armor made his steps thud like a beast stomping the earth.

“And this little shorty is Tianensai. Young and gifted. Under my banner—no, within the kingdom—he’s one of the few true combat prodigies. He’s good at everything, except… he’s in a rebellious streak.” Haidra pointed to a youth about one-sixty-five in height. A soft face, black mushroom-cut hair, eyes bright with pride. His mouth tugged up at Medith, sharp with disdain.

“These three are my officers. Each alone can hold a front,” Haidra added.

“You’re Fiery Mouth, Blood-Sting, Ironblood War Deity, Green Sprite—Medith?” Tianensai cradled his helmet. His voice was clear, almost neutral; without care, you’d miss boy or girl.

Medith smiled. She loved dealing with talent, loved shaping it with a smith’s patience. “Yes. Good to meet you, Tianensai.”

“Heh!” Tianensai skimmed Medith’s followers. When he saw Sais’s getup, his smirk froze like ice under dawn. Sais folded her arms and looked down her nose. “Little gourd, with that bit of composure, you’re bound to go slack. Tongue tied already, aren’t you?”

Tianensai’s smile climbed again. “Hmph. I thought a ‘War Deity’ would be something. Turns out she brought nothing but big-chested, empty-headed aunties.”