Chapter 163

“Have you ever heard of the slope-stabilization method?”

“Pardon?”

“I knew it. How tragic, that such a wonderful method hasn’t reached your ears yet.”

“……”

Lloyd still had one leg wedged firmly into the doorway of the guest annex.

It was the Korean door-to-door salesman’s ultimate technique—blocking the door so it couldn’t close.

With that salesman’s smile plastered across his face.

The smile made Siluria Namaran think one thing:

Is he insane?

But no matter what she thought, Lloyd’s tongue continued to fire off lines at full speed.

“If it isn’t rude, may I step inside?”

“And if it is rude?”

“Then we’ll continue the conversation like this.”

“And if I dislike even that?”

“Then you would be missing the perfect opportunity to solve the single greatest problem facing your city.”

“It sounds as though you’re peering straight into my homeland’s issues.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Is there a law saying that only locals can know the problems of a city built atop a cliff?”

“Well… no such law exists.”

“Exactly. And that is why—”

Good.

The conversation had opened.

Time for the attack.

Lloyd went straight for the core with no hesitation.

“I can solve your cliff problem.”

“You can?”

“Yes. Me.”

He shrugged.

Confidence fully equipped.

To inspire trust that leaving everything to him would be fine.

“A city built on a cliff. But the ground of that cliff is weak. It’s surely crumbling, little by little. Give it ten more years and even the foundations of your city wall will be at risk. Am I correct?”

“……”

“I’m sure the Count of Namaran has tried everything. Planting vegetation on the cliffside, plastering it with mortar—patchwork fixes, all ineffective.”

“You speak as though you could resolve it.”

“Because I can.”

“……”

“With the slope-stabilization method I mentioned earlier. What do you think?”

“What an abrupt—”

Siluria was startled.

Not only by the sudden visit to her guest quarters.

But also by the way he shoved an aggressive proposal right in her face the moment the door opened.

It was enough to make her question his intentions.

What is with this person?

Was he trying something shady?

That suspicion flickered for a moment.

But she quickly shook it off.

No… I don’t think so. We already wrapped up the political-marriage talk neatly.

More importantly, for someone making such an abrupt proposal, he looked extremely serious.

His eyes, his attitude—everything.

Plus, one more thing occurred to her.

This man had received the title of Master Builder from Her Majesty the Queen.

He built that sky-walking bridge in the capital by royal command. And I heard he completed a project in Cremo City so impressive that people still talk about it.

A builder favored by the Queen.

Lloyd’s reputation had spread across the entire kingdom.

She knew it well.

Perhaps… he was someone she could trust.

“Are you offering that proposal with complete sincerity?”

She asked cautiously.

Her thoughts drifted to her homeland.

Namaran.

A city built atop a pyramid-like cliff.

It had not been a large city from the beginning.

Four hundred years ago, it had been a small fortress built to guard the trade route between the south and east.

But its location was too perfect.

Merchants frequently rested near the fortress, safe from bandits, beasts, and monsters.

As travelers rested, inns sprang up.

Then restaurants.

Then facilities of all kinds.

The fortress expanded again and again as the population grew.

Merchants gathered.

A trade post was established.

From that point on—

Namaran wasn’t a place you passed through.

It became a place you arrived at to conduct trade.

Explosive growth into a true city.

And thus came today’s problem.

It was never meant to hold a city.

The land was only meant to hold a fortress.

But expansion after expansion turned it into a city.

The space atop the cliff was cramped.

And the cliff could no longer bear the weight of the oversized city.

The rock was weak.

And with the massive load of the city pressing down, the cliff crumbled and eroded day after day.

Slowly, but surely.

The top area was shrinking.

Now the very foundation beneath the city walls was in danger.

Give it a few more years—

The walls might collapse, exactly as the citizens feared.

Siluria recalled all of this as she awaited Lloyd’s answer.

His response was simple and clear.

“Yes.”

He could do it.

He could solve that problem.

He had explained enough. His appeal was sufficient.

There was no need for flowery language.

Long speeches only made you look desperate.

Now was the perfect moment to step back.

“Whether you trust me or not is your choice. Please give it thought.”

Lloyd pulled his leg out of the doorway.

As if he had never forced his way in.

He stepped back with a calm gaze.

As if saying—The choice is yours.

I lose nothing either way.

With a relaxed smile.

“Well then. Pardon the intrusion.”

He walked away without looking back.

“Huh? Wait, what…?”

Siluria stared at the half-open door in bewilderment.

It felt like a whirlwind had passed.

A day later—

The power of “strike and retreat” proved impressive.

“I think… it might be best to entrust the project to you.”

“You’ve decided?”

“Yes.”

The next day, she sought Lloyd out and nodded.

“I thought it over after you left.”

She had lost sleep over it.

Lloyd had pinpointed Namaran’s issue too precisely.

His confidence and reputation.

She decided to trust him.

It wouldn’t be a loss.

For her beloved Namaran, and for herself.

I might even earn back some credit with Father…

She had been sent here against her will.

Told to build a good relationship with the Frontera heir.

A chance to strengthen the family’s influence.

She remembered her father’s hopeful expression as he sent her off.

It had been burdensome.

She disliked political marriage.

She had planned to return empty-handed.

She felt guilty.

But now—

She wouldn’t be empty-handed.

She wasn’t returning with a groom.

But with a master builder who could solve their city’s greatest problem.

That alone would be an achievement.

So she asked,

“When I return to Namaran, would you come with me?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Lloyd smiled genuinely.

Operation complete.

Now it was time to fix the trade city of Namaran, save it, and discreetly attach a giant straw to sip up a massive construction fee.

♣

Preparations were simple.

Over several days, Lloyd gave Sir Bayern detailed instructions.

Completion of the apartment complex.

Construction of the main sewer’s extended sections.

He entrusted Bayern with all remaining work.

He also gave polite(?) farewells to the other young ladies, telling them to return home safely.

Then, with the Count and Countess seeing them off, he departed.

Over mountains, across rivers, past fields—after twelve days, they reached Namaran.

Average elevation: one thousand meters.

At the center of that highland stood a massive pyramid-shaped cliff.

“……Ah. Now I want grape-cone ice cream.”

Upon seeing Namaran, Lloyd instantly thought of his favorite Korean ice cream.

The cliff supporting the city—

It looked exactly like someone had flipped a purple ice cream cone upside-down.

Javier, riding beside him, tilted his head.

“What is a grape-cone?”

“It’s a kind of ice cream.”

“The cold dessert nobles enjoy in the capital?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

Lloyd nodded and looked up at the cliff and the city atop it.

The city perched like a strawberry resting precariously on a melting, upside-down grape-cone.

That was the image.

At the same time, he immediately understood why the cliff kept collapsing.

‘As expected—mostly sandstone and slate.’

Sandstone was sedimentary rock made of compressed sand.

Slate was metamorphosed shale, hardened by pressure and heat.

Neither was particularly strong.

‘Building a city on this foundation was bound to cause instability.’

Lloyd activated his surveying skill as they ascended the cliff.

The ascent was easy.

A wide, even road spiraled around the cliff.

Thanks to that, Lloyd could examine almost the entire cliff face.

He could naturally begin planning the construction the city needed.

‘A retaining wall won’t do. Even if I build one to support the load, it won’t last. Not even wrapping the cliff with Ggoming’s spiderweb would help.’

The slope was steeper than expected.

The rock too soft.

Covering the surface would be nothing but a stopgap.

The solution had to start from within.

‘We need forced piles and anchors. Bind the surface layers to the bedrock—bind everything into one. That’s the only way to resist the shearing and sliding forces and prevent collapse.’

The rough plan formed.

Equipment, manpower, time, money.

The order of construction and project schedule.

He laid out the grand plan in his mind as he reached the top of the cliff.

They passed through the city gate.

And there—

An unusual sight caught his eye.

Over a hundred people were gathered in the plaza just past the gate.

Most wore shabby clothes.

A delicious aroma drifted from that direction.

It was a familiar sight.

‘That’s—’

“That is the free kitchen run by Mr. Cannavaro.”

Siluria spoke from the carriage window.

“You mentioned him on the day we first met, yes? That you admired him. That place is his soup kitchen. The people who fled the eastern disaster eat well thanks to his charity.”

“……I see.”

Lloyd looked closer.

Despite their ragged clothes, everyone there had healthy complexions.

Well-fed, well-rested.

‘But none of them know why he’s doing this yet.’

A chill ran down Lloyd’s spine.

These people were destined to become test subjects.

Yet they smiled brightly, lining up.

Offering grateful looks to those serving food.

Then—

“Ah, there he is.”

“Who?”

Siluria smiled and pointed.

“Mr. Cannavaro. There.”

“……”

Lloyd followed her gesture.

The center of the soup kitchen.

Where the grateful smiles of the people were directed.

A man stood there with his sleeves rolled up, ladling soup.

He was chubby.

Kind-looking.

He returned the refugees’ gratitude with the warmest, gentlest smile.

“Do you see? That is Mr. Cannavaro. As always, personally tending to the refugees.”

Siluria spoke proudly, as if introducing one of her city’s treasures.

But Lloyd couldn’t agree.

Not because he knew Cannavaro’s true identity.

Not because he remembered that this black sorcerer killed Siluria in the novel.

The reason he stayed silent was something else entirely.

The Black Dragon-Headed Reaper.

The emblem embroidered on Cannavaro’s rolled-up sleeve—

It looked like a normal family crest at first glance.

But Lloyd recognized it immediately.

Undead Mastodon.

The emblem used by the necromancer who buried it.

And, in the novel, the emblem adopted by the tyrant Alicia after her corruption.

That ominous emblem—

Was also embroidered on Cannavaro’s clothes.