Reborn as the Failed Lord with my Resource Gathering System.-Chapter 225: A prince and a Duke.

Time in the Aurelian Dukedom didn’t just pass; it compounded.

Months bled into a blur of construction, mana-forging, and the relentless expansion of Dorian’s empire. The City of Hope was no longer a project; it was a breathing, smoking industrial titan.

The City of Dragons roared with the training of wyverns and men alike.

Dorian sat at the head of his table, his fingers drumming a rhythmic beat on the mahogany surface. Life had settled into a routine of profitable chaos. His parents, Stella and James, had taken over the mundane administrative tasks, guarding the treasury like dragons hoarding gold. It freed him up to focus on the bigger picture.

And the bigger picture involved two very pregnant, very dangerous women.

Maria’s stomach was barely showing. Despite being months along, she looked like she’d just had a large lunch.

Then there was Ravina. The Elven King had sent word from the Capital—she was carrying too. And just like Maria, her physiology defied human logic. Elven biology operated on the wavelength of centuries, not months.

’Two heirs. Two armies. And a lot of child support if this goes sideways.’

Knock. Knock.

"Enter," Dorian commanded, his voice bored.

Sebastian, the butler, stepped in, bowing low. "My Lord. The guest has arrived. He is... perspiring heavily."

Dorian smirked. "Good. Let him sweat a little longer. It softens the negotiations."

He stood up, adjusting his coat. Today was the day he reeled in the big fish from across the sea. Prince Isak of Sualan. The man who thought he could play games with Seraphina and win.

The guest room was opulent, designed specifically to make visitors feel small. The ceilings were too high, the chairs too plush, and the air smelled of expensive, intimidating incense.

Prince Isak sat on the edge of a velvet armchair, his hands gripping his knees so hard his knuckles were white. He looked like a man waiting for an executioner.

Opposite him, lounging on a two-seater sofa with the grace of a jungle cat, was Seraphina.

She wore a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It was the smile of a predator watching a wounded gazelle limp in circles. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

"Where is Duke Dorian?" Isak demanded, though his voice cracked in the middle. "I come on behalf of my father, the King. Should I really be kept waiting like a common merchant?"

Seraphina’s smile widened, revealing a hint of teeth.

"Oh, please, Your Highness. Do forgive my husband’s tardiness. He is likely ensuring his equipment is ready. You know how men are—always trying to be more prepared than they need to be. Especially when they know they’re about to... perform."

Isak flinched visibly. The innuendo was thick enough to choke on, but Dorian could see the fear in the Prince’s eyes from the doorway. Isak wasn’t thinking about anything other than the trap closing around his neck.

Click.

The sound of the door handle turning was loud in the silent room.

"Sorry I kept you waiting."

The voice was deep, resonant, and utterly unapologetic.

Dorian walked in. He didn’t rush. He moved with the casual, loose-limbed stride of a man walking through his own garden.

Beside him trotted Diggy. The small creature didn’t look like a pet; it looked like a thug in a fur coat. It stopped, glared at the Prince with a look of profound disgust, and then hopped onto Seraphina’s lap, curling up as if the Prince wasn’t even worth the effort of a growl.

Dorian sat down in the empty space beside Seraphina, draping an arm over the back of the sofa. He looked at Isak the way a banker looks at a bad investment.

"Now then," Dorian said, his grey eyes piercing through Isak’s bravado. "I believe you already know who I am, Prince Isak. Do forgive the late introduction, but frankly, I assumed my reputation preceded me."

Isak swallowed hard. Dorian watched the Prince’s throat bob. The man was terrified. The aura radiating from Dorian wasn’t just noble authority; it was raw power, and Isak was drowning in it.

"I’ll go straight to the point," Isak stated, trying to summon the dignity of his station, though his voice wavered. "I came here to speak about the contract we signed recently. I would like it to be revoked."

The guards behind Isak tensed, their hands hovering near their weapons. Even they could feel the temperature in the room drop.

Dorian’s expression didn’t change. "Oh? Is that so?"

Isak took the calmness for weakness. He straightened his back, gaining confidence.

"Good. I am glad to see you are agreeable. It must mean you realized how ridiculous the terms were. I knew you were a man I could reason with, unlike—" He shot a glare at Seraphina.

"No, no, you’re actually right," Dorian interrupted, leaning forward. "It is quite ridiculous."

Isak smiled. He thought he had won.

’Hook, line, and sinker,’ Dorian thought.

"But," Dorian continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I just need to know something. Does this mean that for the past few months... you haven’t even bothered to start working on the bridge? As discussed?"

Isak froze. He looked at Seraphina for confirmation, for some sign that this was part of the negotiation dance. But she was just petting Diggy, a serene, terrifying smile plastered on her face.

"Well?" Dorian prompted.

"My treasurer..." Isak stammered, sweat breaking out on his forehead again. "He did a calculation. The money going into the project... we realized it was benefiting us in no way. As such, we halted it. We stopped construction until we could renegotiate."

Dorian stared at him. It was a look of pure, predatory delight.

"So," Dorian said slowly, savoring the words. "If I understand you correctly... you breached the contract. You decided, unilaterally, to stop the project."

"I... yes. We paused it."

"Seraphina."

Dorian didn’t even look at her. He just held out his hand.

Thwack.

Seraphina slapped a stack of documents into his palm. She had opened it to a specific page, marked with a red ribbon.

Dorian cleared his throat.

"According to Article 5, Subsection B," Dorian read aloud, his voice crisp and clear. "Should Party B—that’s you, Your Highness—refrain from building the project for more than one month after this contract is signed, they will be subject to a penalty fine."

Isak frowned. "A fine? I can pay a fine. How much? Ten thousand gold?"

Dorian looked up, his eyes glimmering with a devious, cold light.

"They will be sued a total of 600,000 gold coins for every month that passes without construction."

Isak’s mouth fell open. His brain seemed to stop working.

"And," Dorian continued, turning the page with an agonizing slowness. "Article 6. Following the implementation of the fine in Article 5, Party A is allowed to seize whatever asset they deem equivalent to the debt, while also retaining the initial payment."

Silence.

The room was so quiet Dorian could hear the Prince’s breathing hitch.

"Looks like we might have a bit of a problem here, Your Highness," Dorian whispered.

"What...?" Isak whispered, his face draining of all color. "That... that’s impossible! 600,000 gold coins?! That’s a joke! I don’t remember signing that! You’re making a fool of me!"

"You don’t remember because you didn’t bother to read it," Seraphina chirped, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You assumed my pretty words were all you needed. I was kind of surprised someone of your status would make such a rookie mistake. Did they not teach you literacy in Sualan?"

Isak’s face turned purple. Rage, humiliation, and terror warred for dominance on his features.

"You scammers!" Isak screamed, jumping to his feet. "How dare you?! You think I wouldn’t know what I signed?! Give me that! I’ll read it myself!"

Dorian didn’t argue. He tossed the contract onto the table. It slid across the polished wood and stopped right in front of the Prince.

Isak grabbed it, tearing through the pages. He read. And he read.

And with every line, Dorian watched the Prince’s face grow darker.

It was there. In black and white. Signed with his own seal.

He hadn’t just agreed to build a bridge. He had agreed to mortgage his kingdom’s economy on a project he had just admitted to abandoning.

"Are you satisfied?" Dorian asked, digging his pinky into his ear and inspecting the nail. "Geez. Why are all Princes so dramatic? It’s just business."

Isak looked up. A single tear of pure frustration leaked from his eye. He couldn’t threaten Dorian—the man was a monster. He couldn’t go to war—Revina held the Faja.

He had walked into a trap that no amount of royal blood could save him from.

"I... I cannot pay this," Isak whispered, his voice trembling. "My father will execute me."

Dorian stood up. He towered over the Prince, his shadow stretching across the contract.

"I know you can’t pay it, Isak. I never expected you to."

Boom!

Dorian slammed his hand onto the table, cracking the wood. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

"Let’s make a deal."