Reborn as the Failed Lord with my Resource Gathering System.-Chapter 226: Getting it done.

"Move! Move! Move! Put your backs into it!"

Gatty’s voice roared over the crashing waves as he leaped down from the carriage, his boots sinking slightly into the loose soil.

Behind him, a legion of workers mirrored his urgency, hauling heavy crates and major equipment with groans of exertion.

The port was a chaotic symphony of industry. Multiple boats, their hulls battered from the journey, cut through the ocean spray to dock at the designated landing zones. Waiting for them were layers of jagged rocks and mounds of sand, stockpiled like small mountains on the shore.

On the previously barren land, the skeleton of a camp was rising. Tents were pitched with practiced speed, and fire pits were dug, signaling that the workers were more than ready to begin the arduous task ahead.

In the center of this organized chaos stood Seraphina. She was a beacon of order, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She moved through the teams, issuing precise instructions on where to stack the enchanted lumber and how to handle the volatile mana-conductive metals without triggering an explosion.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the sprawling terrain, Dorian stood atop a small limestone cliff. From this vantage point, the workers looked like ants, a swarming mass of potential energy waiting to be directed. The sea breeze tugged at his coat.

Beside him stood Maria. She had insisted on joining the trip, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. Her reason was simple: she was terrified of what might happen to him if she wasn’t there to watch his back.

But they weren’t alone.

Prince Isak of Sualan stood a few feet away, his face contorted in a grimace of physical pain. He watched the scene below, his eyes tracking the expensive materials being unloaded.

’My money... my sweet treasury...’

The thought echoed in the Prince’s mind. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the overwhelming urge to break down in tears right there on the cliffside.

Before Dorian had traveled to Sualan to begin construction, he had struck a ruthless deal with the Prince. Dorian would forgive the massive fine Isak owed him—a legal issue that would have ruined the Prince’s reputation—and in exchange, Isak would hand over ownership of the land around the border.

At the time, Prince Isak had accepted with joy, practically snorting with relief as he signed the papers. Now, watching the scale of Dorian’s ambition, the reality of the cost was settling in.

"I am surprised you actually came to the site to visit me," Dorian said, breaking the silence. He threw a glance at the Prince—a teasing, predatory look he made no effort to hide. "All by yourself, at that."

The Prince glared back. He wanted to curse Dorian, to scream at the unfairness of it all, but he swallowed his pride. He had no other option.

"I came to make sure my land doesn’t get destroyed," Isak grumbled, adjusting his velvet collar. "And to ensure my father doesn’t hate me any more than he already does."

Pft!

Dorian covered his mouth, failing to stifle a laugh. He pointed a mocking finger at the royal.

"Your father hates you for signing the wrong contract? Seems reasonable enough, don’t you agree? A King needs a competent heir, after all."

If looks could kill, Prince Isak would have struck Dorian dead on the spot. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white. But a man must know when to endure and when to fight back.

Dorian was not someone he could battle. Despite never seeing the man in full combat, Isak’s survival instincts screamed that Dorian was a predator masquerading as a noble.

A defeated sigh escaped Prince Isak’s lips. He gestured toward the vast expanse of water separating the land from the horizon.

"How do you intend to build a bridge over such a large body of water?" he asked, voicing the question that had plagued his engineers.

"From the way you spoke back at the capital, it seemed as though you were expecting it to be finished in a month or so. If you plan to build a bridge long enough to cross this bay, it would take you more than a year at best. The currents are too strong for standard pilings."

Dorian hummed thoughtfully, watching a men lift a massive stone block.

"Who said anything about building a bridge?"

The response hung in the air. Prince Isak raised a brow, confusion wrinkling his forehead.

"And I certainly never mentioned building a ship," Dorian added.

If it wasn’t a bridge, and it wasn’t a ship, then what? Unless Dorian planned to buy a galleon from the Royal Navy and turn this place into a standard port, there was no way to cross the river freely.

"Are you planning to—"

"Yes, I do intend to turn this place into a seaport as well," Dorian interrupted, anticipating the question. "But that is merely a secondary objective. My primary goal is to improve the transportation system entirely."

"Improve? What do you mean by that?" Prince Isak pressed, his curiosity finally overriding his annoyance.

Rather than giving a verbal answer, Dorian turned and placed a hand on the Prince’s shoulder. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was a terrifying, robotic expression that promised ruin.

"All you need to know is that your Kingdom is the first to undergo such a change. You don’t have to worry about the logistics, Isak. You only have to worry about getting me the required equipment."

The Prince’s face drained of color. He turned blue, instinctively understanding that something terrible was coming.

Not a second later, Maria stepped forward. With professional grace, she stretched out a sheet of parchment toward him.

To Isak, that paper looked like a death warrant. It was his worst nightmare, capable of inducing multiple heart attacks simultaneously.

He grabbed the paper—he had no choice—and proceeded to read. Slowly. Carefully.

Every number he read sucked the soul clean from his body.

He tried to protest, to shout that this was robbery, but all that left his lips were incoherent mumbles. The shock had robbed him of the ability to speak.

"Do get it all before tomorrow," Dorian said cheerfully, turning back to the ocean. "I plan on getting to work right away."

The Prince stared at the paper, his eyes bulging. Finally, he found his voice, though it cracked.

"Why... why do you need a magic crystal and ancient runes for building a means of transportation? I don’t understand! These are High Black Magic Crystals! They are used for war golems and fortress barriers!"

Dorian’s face went blank, adopting a cold, robotic mask almost as soon as the question was thrown.

"For building. Why else would I need them?"

Prince Isak was so stunned by the nonchalance that he, too, stared at Dorian with a blank expression. The absurdity of the situation broke him.

"You know..." Isak began, his voice hollow. "I can see where your wife, that demoness, got her wickedness from. You are a terrifying man."

"..."

Later that night, the construction site transformed.

The harsh sounds of labor were replaced by the crackle of campfires and the murmur of content voices. The workers had settled into their tents, chowing down on a hearty dinner cooked by Seraphina and some of the men.

The aroma of roasted meat and spiced stew drifted through the air, boosting morale.

Capable fighters patrolled the perimeter, scanning the dark treeline and the shoreline for threats. In these wild lands, monsters were known to ambush sleeping camps, and no one wanted to be a midnight snack.

While the workers bonded, sharing flasks of ale and stories ahead of the next day’s grind, Dorian and his two wives, Seraphina and Maria, slipped away.

Dorian had decided they needed a break. Since his visit to the capital, he had been consumed by work, neglecting the two women who stood by him.

He decided to take them to the nearest settlement, the City of Uina, to spend some quality time together.

Naturally, Dorian had initially been against Maria coming along, citing her pregnancy, but she had been relentless.

In that moment, staring into her determined eyes, there was truly no way he could say no to them.

After a long, rhythmic ride inside the carriage, they eventually arrived at Uina.

The city was unique, known famously as the home of the Sea People. Because of their proximity to the volatile waters, the locals lived their lives steeped in superstition, believing deeply in tales relating to the Water God.

The cultural difference was immediate. As soon as Dorian and his wives approached the city gates, they noticed the guards. Instead of standard armor, they wore necklaces made of round water kegs and stood completely barefoot on the cold stone.

From there, it only got weirder.

The streets smelled heavily of brine and exotic spices. Fish were served in every stall, hanging from hooks in open-air markets. The architecture was fluid, with curved roofs resembling waves. But the most striking aspect was the people. Most were dressed in shimmering, scale-like fabrics, mimicking the appearance of mermaids and citizens of the Slumbering Sea.

After walking around the city for nearly ten minutes, taking in the strange sights, they found a small, high-end restaurant and decided to settle there for a feast.

They entered the establishment, the interior lit by glowing blue corals. As they sat down, a waiter approached. Or rather, she glided forward.

She was dressed in nothing but a stylized bikini made of shells and silk.

Dorian blinked.

Immediately, two hands shot out from either side—Maria and Seraphina moved in perfect sync, intent on covering Dorian’s eyes.

"This place is rather... eccentric," Seraphina muttered, glaring at the scantily clad staff. She was dressed beautifully in a dark, elegant dress that contrasted sharply with the tropical theme of the restaurant. "I didn’t think people still served the Gods of the Old World with this much fervor."

She picked up a knife in one hand and a fork in the other, tearing through the meat placed before her with a little more aggression than necessary.

Maria, radiant in a red, long-sleeved dress that accentuated her glow, spoke up right after.

"A lot of people still do. At least, a small few," Maria explained, sipping her water. "The fact that the Priests in the capital are all serving the God of Light is enough motivation for the outlying regions to cling to their traditions. They believe the other Gods are worth the same respect."

There was a slight change in Seraphina’s expression. Her hand paused mid-cut, her eyes darkening as if a shadow had passed over her mind.

"The Gods are not good people," she whispered, her voice carrying a weight that chilled the table.

Maria paused, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The joyous mood threatened to collapse under the heavy statement.

Before the awkwardness could spread any further, Dorian chimed in perfectly.

"Come now," he said, his voice smooth and commanding, drawing their attention back to him. "I thought we came out here to spend some time together. What is this talk about Gods and ancient history?"

He reached out, taking a hand from each of them.

"Beautiful women like you should really not be thinking about such heavy topics tonight."

Dorian offered them a warm, genuine smile. Perhaps it was the lighting, or perhaps it was because he was dressed sharply in a tailored suit, but the effect was instantaneous.

When Seraphina and Maria looked him in the eye, their cheeks flushed a deep crimson. The tension evaporated, replaced by a shy affection as they quickly looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with the man they loved.