Chapter 178
“So you felt immeasurable gratitude toward me for not throwing away your skulls and actually taking care of them?”
Creak!
A little past midnight.
Lloyd sat in his dimly lit lodgings, the candle still burning because he hadn’t been able to snuff it out. He pressed both hands against his face.
He was exhausted.
He’d run around all day.
He’d fought a Hell Knight in a fierce exorcism-like brawl.
He’d spent hours using the Asrahan Heart Technique to stabilize the citizens.
And just when he thought he could finally rest…
Two hundred skeletons showed up.
– It is not merely gratitude.
One skeleton soldier—who introduced himself as the leader—nodded and quickly scribbled an answer on paper.
He had told Lloyd to call him “Turtle Neck.”
Holding a stick of charcoal, Turtle Neck wrote rapidly.
– We were in despair. Not only were we killed unjustly, our skulls were buried carelessly in the cold earth. Our bodies were used as headless zombies.
“Ah, so you were the zombies guarding the Black Wizards last night?”
– Yes.
“What about now?”
– Most Black Wizards have died. Cannavaro’s power has been restrained. Thanks to that, we broke free from the curse. As the curse lifted, all decayed flesh fell away, leaving only pure bone.
“Hm. Then the zombies I smashed…?”
– They are over there.
Turtle Neck pointed off to the side.
Two skeleton soldiers raised their hands.
– From left to right, they are called Square Jaw and Frozen Shoulder.
“……”
– Those two suffered heavy blows during your initial attack on the Black Wizards. Their torsos were obliterated.
“Oh, that’s right.”
– But when the curse was removed, even the bones that had shattered into dust were restored. We do not know the reason or the principle.
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
– Yes.
Turtle Neck nodded earnestly, then flipped to a clean sheet.
– After the curse was lifted, we gathered. We discussed our future. Actually, the discussion was brief. Because we all felt something.
“Felt what?”
Turtle Neck tapped his skull.
– Our heads.
“Your skulls?”
– Yes. We sensed it. Someone had unearthed our skulls, which were buried carelessly. And that someone was keeping them with respect instead of discarding them.
“…Are you saying you heard what I said while handling the skulls?”
– Yes.
Another nod.
– We heard everything. Whenever you picked up a jewel, you bowed to our skulls. You said you didn’t know what hardships we had suffered, but you wished us peace. You told us to rest.
“……”
That was indeed what Lloyd had murmured each time he uncovered a skull while digging for jewels.
Just something he said out of courtesy.
Because he felt sorry for them.
Because he intended to rebury them properly later.
He hadn’t thought anyone was listening.
‘I didn’t expect this to come back…’
A faint pride swelled in his chest.
But also embarrassment.
A memory emerged.
One winter, back when he lived in a goshiwon in Korea.
He’d received his meager day’s wage from a construction job.
On his way home, he saw an elderly woman selling vegetables in freezing sleet. Only a few baskets of greens—and she hadn’t sold a single one.
No hat. No gloves. Just raw, cracked hands brushing snow off wilted leaves.
Before he could think, he’d asked:
“How much for all of it?”
And he’d handed her his entire day’s wage.
‘It was insane.’
It was, objectively, a good deed.
But that night, he regretted it bitterly.
Sucker.
Idiot.
He starved because of it.
After that, he stopped meddling in things beyond his ability.
Kindness is good—within limits.
Even now, with the skulls, he’d only done what he -could- reasonably do.
He didn’t throw them away.
He handled them respectfully.
He hadn’t expected a reward.
“So, in summary, you want me to take you all in?”
– Yes.
Turtle Neck wrote clearly.
– If not for you, we would still be roaming headless. Our skulls were bound by magic. They would never have returned to us on their own.
“I see.”
– Yes.
“If you follow me, you’ll have to work. A lot. Are you fine not resting in your graves?”
– We are already beings revived after death. Rest is impossible. If left alone, we would wander the wilderness and be hunted by adventurers or soldiers. We would rather live under the protection of someone trustworthy—someone like you.
“Well… that does make sense.”
Lloyd smiled faintly and glanced to the side.
Javier sat on the bed, eyes barely open.
‘What is happening…’
He sighed deeply.
He’d been in a perfect dream, lulled by Lloyd’s usual “lullaby.”
Then a clatter. Then Lloyd’s voice. Then more clattering.
He opened his eyes—
And the room was full of skeletons.
Any normal person would have attacked on reflex.
If Lloyd hadn’t explained in time, Javier might’ve reduced them all to bone powder.
‘I never thought I’d witness someone recruiting skeletons as laborers…’
And that “someone” was the young master he served.
Another sigh.
Beyond Javier’s exhaustion, something else was happening.
An employment contract was being exchanged.
Turtle Neck tilted his skull.
– What is this?
“A contract,” Lloyd said brightly. “An employment contract.”
He grinned.
Manpower issues solved.
Undead Domination acquired.
Skeletons willingly volunteered.
[Number of Undead soldiers that can be dominated: 200]
[Number of Undead soldiers currently dominated: 200]
‘Unpaid, unlimited labor—secured.’
A satisfying message appeared.
Lloyd smiled broadly.
♣
The next morning, Lloyd headed straight to Count Namaran’s office.
In his hand: a rolled-up bundle of documents.
The “Namaran Amnesty Stabilization Construction Plan” and blueprints.
‘Lululu, lulu—’
He hummed horribly, shoulders bouncing.
With skeleton labor secured, manpower issues were gone. Surveying and design had been progressing even before the Barrier incident.
Everything was back on schedule.
Hand over the plan. Request materials. Begin construction.
Then finish quickly, get paid handsomely, return to Frontera, and live a sweet, easy life as a honeybee lord surrounded by apartments and sewers.
‘Lulullalanannana~’
He even tap-danced his way into the office.
But then—
“Would you like to be my son-in-law?”
“……”
What now?
Lloyd’s breath hitched as he stared at Count Namaran.
The Count sat wrapped in a thick blanket, coughing.
“Cough! Cough! My request is sudden, isn’t it?”
“Ah… yes. A little.”
“I never expected to make such a request.”
The Count gave a weary smile.
“Lloyd Frontera, look at me. How do I appear?”
“Hm… unwell.”
“Exactly.”
Another heavy sigh.
“This incident drained me. The doctor says I’ll recover with a year of rest… but who knows? I was deceived by that Black Wizard and lost too much vitality. So I want to rest. I want to retire.”
“Yes?”
“Surprised? Hehe. I want to rest.”
He laughed lightly, but to Lloyd it sounded ominous.
“If I were an ordinary old man, I wouldn’t say this. But I govern a city. And someone in my condition cannot handle governance. So I thought: I should entrust it to someone stronger, healthier, wiser—to someone who can help this city.”
“Hm, Count? About earlier… I don’t think I answered honestly.”
“Hm?”
“You look extremely healthy right now.”
“……”
“I think you could sprint to that wall and back without panting.”
“Oh, you.”
The Count burst into laughter.
And Lloyd felt dread crawl up his spine.
The Count was resolute.
Too resolute.
Something was coming.
“You must have waited long enough. Come in.”
As soon as the Count finished speaking—
The inner door opened.
The Namaran heiress walked in, cheeks slightly flushed, and sat beside him.
The Count looked between his daughter and Lloyd with a pleased expression.
“Well? Can you form a bond with this child? And accept the right to govern my city?”
“……”
“It is this old man’s earnest request.”
“……”
Lloyd’s mind went blank.
‘Oh, this is bad.’
He thought he’d survived the Namaran disaster.
All he needed to do now was finish construction.
But now THIS?
‘Did I achieve too much?’
His hands began sweating.
Too great an achievement.
Too impressive a contribution.
He had saved the city.
Defeated the Hell Knight.
It was only natural that the reward would be massive.
But to be offered the heiress and the entire city?
If he nodded—
He’d instantly become the Count of Namaran.
And later, inherit Frontera as well.
Two territories. Two governments.
A staggering position.
‘But…’
He didn’t want it.
Not even a little.
Power? A burden.
Political responsibility? A headache.
Loveless marriage? No thanks.
Managing two territories? Absolutely not.
Life genre of choice?
Slice-of-life.
Preferably as a wealthy building owner doing nothing.
Not an epic political drama.
Not heroic governance.
Not catastrophe management.
Just peace.
Pure, simple peace.
So—
He must refuse.
The question was how.
A clean rejection.
One that would prevent future offers.
His eyes drifted toward the heiress.
He remembered something:
Her tragic end in the novel -Iron-Blooded Knight-.
Her noble sacrifice for Namaran.
Maybe because of that—
“I understand the meaning and significance of your offer, Count. But I’m sorry. I cannot accept becoming your son-in-law or governing this city.”
“……What?”
The Count’s eyes trembled.
“You reject such a good offer? Do you not understand my intentions? Why?”
He looked genuinely shocked.
Understandably so.
For most people, such an offer would be a dream.
But for Lloyd—
He looked calmly into the Count’s eyes and spoke with sincerity.
“Because there is already an excellent ruler here—someone far more suitable to lead this city than me.”
His hand was already pointing toward the Namaran heiress.