Reborn as the Failed Lord with my Resource Gathering System.-Chapter 212: Allow me to introduce myself.

The sun beat down on the vast expanse of the excavation site, but the usual stench of the capital’s lower districts was notably absent.

In the distance, workers hauled treated lumber and pulled heavy wagons, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine.

The roads had been blocked off, creating a perimeter around the massive trench that scarred the earth—a deep, jagged wound destined to become the kingdom’s lifeline.

At the center of the terrain, near a diverted stream where horses dipped their heads to drink, Dorian sat on a flat rock.

He wasn’t acting like a Duke. He was buried face-first in a holographic blueprint only he could see.

"This plan is surprisingly detailed," Dorian murmured, his finger tracing a glowing blue line on the interface. "I didn’t expect the workers to account for soil density and subterranean water flow quite so meticulously. The System usually cuts corners."

Lili, who was busy trying to braid a section of Ciel’s silver hair—much to the dragon’s silent, stiff tolerance—glanced over.

"The workers are very smart, Master! I saw them fighting over the paper earlier. They were shouting about angles!"

Ciel gently pulled her head away, smoothly adjusting her hair back to its pristine state.

"No wonder I couldn’t find you," she noted, her voice flat. "You were spying on the humans."

Dorian chuckled, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the sky. "And here I thought the interface just pulled up some fancy drawings. Well, I guess we’re making good progress, right?"

He looked around the site.

The capital’s citizens and the Aurelian workers, groups that usually looked at each other with suspicion and disdain, were working in relative harmony. They were united by a singular, powerful goal: eradicating the literal crap that plagued their lives.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over him.

One of the capital workers, a sturdy man with dirt smudges across his face named Rold, walked hesitantly towards them. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Lord Dorian?" Rold asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"Yes?" Dorian replied easily, sitting up straighter. "Everything alright with your section, Rold? If the pipe alignment is off, blame the foreman, not me."

Rold shook his head quickly. "No, sir, the pipe alignment is going smoothly. But... well, I just wanted to ask you something, if I may."

"Go ahead."

Rold glanced back at his colleagues, ensuring no one was listening, before leaning in.

"It’s about the King, Your Majesty... I mean, King Ravina."

Dorian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"We haven’t seen her around here for... well, for over a week now," Rold continued, wringing his hands. "Usually, when big projects like this start, she comes down for a visit. Gives a small speech, waves at the people. It boosts morale."

Dorian remained silent, processing. Rold was right. Ravina was meticulous about her public image. For her to miss the groundbreaking of the sanitation project—something she had pushed for—was out of character.

"Has she been missing meetings at the castle, too?" Dorian asked, his voice losing its casual edge.

"We wouldn’t know about the castle meetings, sir," Rold admitted. "But we’ve noticed the guards. The ones assigned to the Royal Perimeter seem... stressed. And a few merchants who deliver goods said the King hasn’t left the Royal Wing in days. Even the mandatory council meetings have been cut short."

He paused, then added the final nail in the coffin.

"We heard rumors she’s taking on more work than usual. Buried in paperwork. Which is weird, because the King we know delegates everything."

Dorian stood up. The blueprint vanished from his vision.

Ravina hadn’t mentioned anything. She was resilient, yes, but she was also stubbornly independent. If she was retreating, it meant the pressure was getting to her. Or worse, she was hiding something she didn’t want him to see.

"Thank you for telling me this, Rold," Dorian said, his tone serious. "It’s important information."

"Is... is everything okay, Lord Dorian?"

"I’m sure it is," Dorian lied with a measured, comforting smile. "She’s likely just exhausted. I’ll go check on her. Ciel, Lili."

Ciel stepped forward instantly. "Understood, Lord Dorian."

Lili pouted, dropping the braid she was attempting to fix. "Okay, Papa. Don’t forget to tell King Ravina that the smelly water is going to go away soon!"

Dorian nodded, but his mind was already miles away, focused on the castle walls.

’Time to see what those stuffy nobles are up to.’

(Present Time: The Throne Room)

"Do you believe the Dragon Monarch would reveal himself to the same species that brought him to his knees in the past?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and poisonous.

Revina had uttered the words with a venom that shocked the entire room.

Alex, standing right beside her, felt the blood drain from his face. She had spoken with too much emotion. Too much personal defense.

Smack! 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Alex slammed his palm onto his face, dragging it down in pure exasperation. She had just handed them the knife.

The first to react was High Priest Sandro. He didn’t look confused. He looked like a predator that had just smelled blood.

"I am afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Your Majesty," Sandro said, a nervous, mocking chuckle escaping his lips. "I spent years studying the Ancient Texts. The Era of Gods and Dragons. I dare say I know more about history than you do in this regard. I believe I have more knowledge on the Dragon Monarch and his... nature."

Revina said nothing. Her hands gripped the armrests of her throne so tightly the wood groaned.

"In as much as the Dragon Monarch once fought for humanity, he was also responsible for its downfall," Sandro continued, his voice rising, emboldened by her silence. "To say he hides from humans is a fallacy. He abandoned humanity and chose to make an enemy of the Gods. He has a duty to come before us and explain his actions! He owes us penance!"

Vooooom!

The air in the room suddenly became heavier than lead.

It wasn’t just pressure. It was a physical force, shimmering with white mana, causing the stained glass windows to rattle in their frames. The Dukes, the Priest, even the guards felt fear ripple through their skin like a cold shock.

Revina was about to crash out.

Alex’s hand drifted forward, panic setting in. If she unleashed her power here, now, against the High Priest... it wouldn’t just be a scandal. It would be a declaration of war against the Church. The Dukes would rebel. The Kingdom would fracture.

Just as Revina’s eyes began to glow with a dangerous, blinding light—

Knock-Knock.

The sound was soft, casual, yet it cut through the magical tension like a razor blade.

Everyone’s eyes immediately snapped towards the massive royal doors.

The guards were on the other side. No ordinary soldier would dare interrupt a Council Meeting of this magnitude unless the castle was under siege.

"You may enter," Alex spoke quickly, desperate to break the suffocating atmosphere.

Creak.

The heavy doors swung open.

There, standing at the entrance, was Dorian.

He stood with a single hand in his pocket, his posture relaxed, almost bored. Beside him stood Ciel, her expression as cold as ice, and Lili was perched happily on his shoulder, swinging her legs.

An immediate, deafening silence fell over the room.

Duke Salvaina let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Duke Gorgia’s jaw unhinged.

"Lord Dorian..." Revina blurted out.

The mana pressure vanished instantly. She fought the overwhelming urge to fall to her knees, to run to him, to let the mask crumble.

Dorian didn’t speak immediately. He just stood there, his gaze sweeping over the room, dissecting every face, every bead of sweat, every hidden dagger.

’Ciel.’

[As requested, I have begun monitoring their surface thoughts. High Priest Sandro is harboring malicious intent. Duke Gorgia is fearful. Duke Salvaina is... relieved.]

’Good. Let’s get this over with.’

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Dorian walked into the room, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

"Sorry about me butting in like this," he said, his voice smooth, carrying effortlessly to the back of the room. "But I heard a few of you were looking for me. I just couldn’t help but show myself."

As he walked past the chairs, Duke Salvaina smiled, genuinely glad the cavalry had arrived.

"Her Majesty said you wouldn’t be able to make it to the meeting due to... urgent business," Duke Gorgia grumbled, trying to regain his composure. "And yet, here you are."

Dorian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He continued his approach toward the throne.

"Right. I was busy. Until I heard a bunch of grown men were talking bad about me behind my back. We can’t have that, now can we?"

They all looked confused. Dorian wasn’t stopping at the witness stand. He was walking up the stairs to the dais.

Revina stood up, her eyes wide, unsure of what he was doing.

Dorian stopped right in front of her. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Sorry about this," he whispered, his voice dropping to a low rumble only she could hear. "But I’ll handle things from here."

"Eh?"

Before Revina could process the apology, Dorian turned around and sat down on the throne.

And then, with a casual fluidity that stopped time, he grabbed her waist and pulled her down.

Thud.

Revina landed squarely on his lap.

A collective gasp ripped through the room.

Alex stumbled backward, his brain short-circuiting.

The High Priest looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. The King... the sovereign ruler of Lumberg... was sitting on a Duke’s lap like a tavern wench.

But Revina didn’t fight it. She didn’t struggle. She sat there, stiff at first, then melting slightly as she felt the familiar warmth of his hand around her waist. Her cheeks burned a bright crimson, her mind blanking out completely.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Sandro screamed, pointing a trembling finger at Dorian. "How dare you?! Making the King sit in such a position! Who the hell do you think you are—"

Whoosh!

His words died in his throat.

Ciel stepped up to the right side of the throne. Massive, ethereal dragon wings erupted from her back, casting a long shadow over the priest.

On the left, space distorted. Flare materialized in its mighty, building-sized cat form, shrinking down just enough to fit but still looming over the room with predatory intent.

Lili transformed, her playful demeanor gone, replaced by the aura of a monster.

The view from the floor was unmistakable.

The man on the throne wasn’t just a Duke. He was a calamity.

"Allow me to introduce myself," Dorian said, his voice dropping an octave, resonating with a power that vibrated in their chests. "I believe this is the first time we are properly meeting."

Dorian grinned, a dark, arrogant expression that promised ruin to anyone who bored him.

"My name is Dorian Aurelian."

He leaned back, tightening his grip on the King.

"And I am the Dragon Monarch you’ve heard of in your legends. It is an honor to finally meet you, High Priest."