Chapter 192

‘Is that what they call fishing?’

An endless feast of too-much-talk.

In front of it stood a group of kidnappers, dumbfounded.

Watching the scene inside the warehouse, Javier faintly furrowed his brow.

‘Did Lloyd-nim predict even this?’

It seemed that way.

He suddenly remembered.

Was it just this afternoon?

Lloyd had spoken to him with an unusually serious face.

He said Lloyd would be kidnapped tonight.

So Javier should wait near the lodging.

And no matter what happened, he must not intervene unless Lloyd was truly in danger.

He should tail the kidnappers, observe the situation, and wait.

Those were the instructions.

So Javier had asked.

Who were the kidnappers?

How could Lloyd predict such a thing?

Then Lloyd had just grinned and said:

Instinct.

“……”

Javier’s gaze deepened as he recalled those words.

Sometimes—no, often—he found the young master he served to be mysterious.

This was too accurate to be mere instinct.

Was it intuition?

Was he just smart?

‘No. He’s too remarkable to be summed up by that.’

Javier didn’t believe Lloyd was a genius.

Because he had watched him from close by.

Of course, his cunning mind worked a bit better than most.

But Javier had never witnessed flashes of genius-level intellect.

That was why.

‘There might be something I don’t know.’

Looking back, it always felt like that.

Long ago, when Lloyd grasped that Javier was anxiously struggling, unable to complete the Asrahan Heart Technique.

When he predicted the king’s assassination in the royal capital.

When he suspected the Black Wizard Cannavaro in Namaran.

‘Sometimes… he feels like someone who has already glimpsed or experienced this world’s future.’

Of course, Javier knew that was impossible.

And yet he still felt it.

As if Lloyd had borrowed part of an omniscient being’s memories.

That was how Lloyd often displayed foresight that surpassed his senses and intellect.

Today was the same.

‘Then shall I keep watching?’

Because he still couldn’t be sure.

Because it was only a feeling.

Javier narrowed his eyes and peered deeper into the warehouse.

He watched Lloyd, who was manipulating the kidnappers with nothing but his tongue.

Fortunately, Lloyd’s endless talk was now rushing toward its conclusion.

“……That’s how it was. Feeling the heavy responsibility of seeing the burdens placed upon the people here, and following that teaching of the heart, I carried water every day. I came to share that water with the people here. Hoo, but I have no regrets. Even if time were turned back to a few days ago, even if I knew in advance that something like today would happen, I would make the same choice.”

“……To win the trust and cooperation of the locals, finish the construction, and get the Sultan to the negotiation table?”

“Ah, you understood everything?”

“Of course. I had to listen to your overly detailed confession for almost an hour.”

Lloyd grinned and lifted his head.

Looking down at him, the leader of the kidnappers—the blond man—let out a deep sigh.

The kind that escaped without permission.

‘What kind of person is this?’

Perplexity seeped into Termes’s gaze as he looked at Lloyd.

He had assumed Lloyd was just a pawn sent by the Sultan.

A lackey.

Someone dispatched under the pretext of construction to monitor this region.

That was what he thought.

So the more Lloyd did good deeds—sharing water with people every day—the more it bothered him.

Suspicion and wariness grew.

He must be plotting something.

He must have an aim.

Driven by that suspicion, he kidnapped him.

Even if it meant threats and interrogation.

He resolved to expose Lloyd’s intentions and stop him.

He steeled himself to uncover the Sultan’s true motives.

But…

“To be honest. This is the first confession like this I’ve heard in my life. Should I praise it as sincerity, or dismiss it as excessive? Either way, I think I understand what kind of person you are.”

“What kind of person do you think I am?”

“Someone trying to use us.”

Termes’s gaze hardened.

“You already know who we are, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then can you guess who I am?”

“Of course. Rebel leader Termes-ssi.”

“As expected.”

Termes let out a dry chuckle.

“So sharing water with the people here was also meant to draw us out. Is that right?”

“Yes. You came later than I thought, so I had to wait a bit.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Lloyd’s mouth.

And it was true.

He had waited for the rebels to appear.

He had tried to meet them.

And this had been the best method.

If he simply asked the residents, they would never reveal the rebel hideout or how to contact them.

Threatening them wouldn’t work either.

So Lloyd performed excessive good deeds for the locals.

He even carried out a blatant bombardment of charity.

He calculated that the rebels would definitely notice.

He expected they would become suspicious and wary as they watched him do it day after day.

That expectation was met exactly.

‘Because they’d have assumed I was the Sultan’s lackey.’

Seeing such an obvious pawn openly performing good deeds would only make it stranger.

Lloyd used that suspicion and wariness as bait.

Thanks to that, he ended up kidnapped by the rebel group like this.

He made contact.

“I figured you’d come to see me yesterday or today. Well, the method was a bit rougher than I expected.”

Lloyd gave a dry chuckle and frowned.

One side of his forehead was slightly swollen.

The mark of a club from the kidnapping.

Termes’s gaze grew even sharper.

“Fearless. You might get hit more.”

“That would happen if I were dealing with unscrupulous bandits or robbers. Those types usually beat, threaten, and kidnap innocent people.”

“……Are you trying to criticize us?”

“No. It hurt earlier, but I can understand that much.”

“Then what do you want from us?”

Termes’s gaze sank.

Truthfully, he still didn’t trust Lloyd.

Even after hearing Lloyd spill his whole life story, it was the same.

Stories could be fabricated as easily as one wished.

If you set your mind to it, that level of lying wasn’t difficult.

That was why Termes hadn’t stopped Lloyd earlier.

The longer the talk, the more likely a slip would show.

The easier it would be to find a flaw.

But he couldn’t catch anything.

Not a tail. Not a crack.

It was unexpected.

‘I have to find out what this guy wants.’

What if he really was the Sultan’s pawn?

What if he planned to wipe out the rebels in one blow?

Maybe the best course was to cut his head off and be done with it.

‘But first, his purpose.’

He would listen, then judge.

Termes waited for Lloyd’s answer.

Lloyd smiled faintly.

“What I want? It’s simple. Hand over all your hideouts.”

“……What?”

Termes doubted his ears.

Even after being kidnapped.

Even with his hands and feet bound.

He didn’t expect Lloyd to make such a brazen, insane demand.

But Lloyd’s voice pierced everyone’s ears with even greater audacity.

“Literally. You’re probably using the tunnels scattered throughout this region as hideouts, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t find them. So surrender all the tunnels to me.”

“Are you… insane?”

“I’m not. Because you need to hand those tunnels over if you want to permanently drive away the drought plaguing this region.”

“What?”

Termes, who was about to explode, halted.

Hand over the tunnels.

Solve the drought.

What kind of nonsense was that?

“……I suppose an explanation is needed.”

“Of course it is.”

Lloyd smiled faintly.

“As I said earlier, I made a contract with the Sultan and came here to build a water channel facility called Qanat. An underground channel that draws water from the foothills of the mountain range about thirty-six kilometers away and brings it here.”

“But why do you need our tunnels?”

“Because I plan to connect them and turn them into waterways.”

“…….”

“It’s true. That way, the construction period shortens. And the time the people here suffer from drought decreases as well. The Sultan, trying to improve public opinion, won’t start an unreasonable war. Your neighbors and friends won’t be dragged to the battlefield. My homeland, Frontera County, won’t get swept into war. Everyone ends up happy.”

Lloyd’s gaze turned sharp.

“That is, if you willingly surrender the tunnels.”

“…….”

No one spoke.

No one could respond easily.

The story Lloyd laid out so casually was far beyond their common sense and expectations.

When he first demanded the tunnels, they thought he was mad.

But after hearing the reason, it started to sound plausible.

“Hoo. Wait. Let me sort this out.”

Termes suppressed his bewilderment and spoke.

“So you’re saying you’ll use our tunnels—our hideouts—for construction to solve the drought.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll connect them and create an underground waterway to draw water from the mountains.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Ha. Then what about us? What happens to us?”

A sneer crept into the corner of Termes’s mouth.

“Since you already know who we are, I won’t bother hiding it. Yes. We are raising a rebellion against the Sultan. We resent the Sultan, who takes no measures even though our home is consumed by drought and everyone suffers. We’re determined to make our hardship known, even by force. To bring the wealth of the capital Ahinsa here through bloody struggle, and drive away the drought tormenting us.”

Termes continued.

“So yes. We are rebels. A rebellious faction. And you’re telling us to hand over our hideout tunnels? You’re saying everyone can become happy and escape the drought if we do? Fine. Let’s say everything proceeds exactly as you claim. Let’s say the waterway is completed. For us, that’s welcome. The drought—the pain that made us rise—will be gone. But then what? After we hand over the tunnels? What happens to us when we lose our hideouts?”

A faint resentment stirred in Termes’s eyes.

“Will we be safe after losing our hideouts? You’re not naively thinking the Sultan will forgive us just because we cooperated with construction, are you?”

“Of course not.”

Lloyd nodded.

“That’s obvious. The Sultan is the ruler.”

It was true.

Too obvious, really.

Even if they cooperated with the Qanat construction.

Even if they surrendered the tunnels that served as their hideouts.

There was no chance the Sultan would forgive them.

A fairytale happy ending like that would never exist.

Lloyd was certain of it.

‘He wouldn’t set that precedent. Absolutely not.’

The world didn’t run on pretty outcomes.

Cooperation didn’t guarantee repayment.

This was exactly that kind of case.

That was why.

‘Termes-ssi, you’re reacting exactly as I expected.’

What happens to us after we give up the tunnels?

He had anticipated that question.

Naturally, he had an answer ready.

“You just need to leave this place.”

“……What?”

“What choice do you have? You’ll be subjugated by the Sultan anyway, so you should run.”

“What is that… Are you making fun of us?”

Grab.

Termes snatched Lloyd by the collar.

His eyes looked ready to strike at any moment.

But Lloyd replied calmly.

“Making fun of you? I’m serious.”

“Then why are you saying such nonsense? Run? Flee? Do you think that’s possible?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you can come to our territory.”

“…….”

“Seek asylum. Safely. I’ll accept all of you.”

“What.”

Termes glared at him as if he couldn’t comprehend a single word.

“Are you in your right mind?”

“Of course.”

They were people who would have nowhere to go anyway.

Even if they didn’t surrender the tunnels.

They were people who would ultimately fail in their rebellion and die miserably.

‘Because that’s what happened in the novel Knight of Iron and Blood. Termes-ssi, the people beside him—everyone fails. They’re subjugated by the Sultan and disappear like dew on the gallows. That incident becomes the spark that drives the local chieftains to rise. A second rebellion erupts, and finally the Sultan is dragged from the throne.’

That was what happened in the novel Knight of Iron and Blood.

In other words, the rebel men before him, including Termes, were people destined to vanish as kindling for rebellion.

‘I’m offering to save you. And solve the drought. And prevent the Frontera territory from getting swept into war by forcing the Sultan to negotiate.’

It was, in his eyes, a path where everyone could win.

Had Termes grasped even a sliver of that?

That if they surrendered the tunnels, the drought could be solved, and the possibility of a happier outcome could open?

“How can I believe that?”

Termes asked, eyes blazing.

He tightened his grip on Lloyd’s collar.

“Are you trying to deceive us? Or have you gone mad? Do you expect us to believe such an insane proposal?”

“You need a basis for trust.”

“Of course.”

Termes’s eyes flashed.

“Prove it. Show me a basis I can trust. If you can’t, I’ll cut your head off right now and bury you in a sand pit where no one will ever find you.”

“Fine.”

Lloyd, still held by the collar, shrugged.

Termes’s reaction was understandable.

He would still be suspicious.

He might think even this proposal was a trick of the Sultan’s.

So if Lloyd wanted them to accept it, he needed one decisive blow—something that would establish trust instantly.

Fortunately, Lloyd had already prepared exactly that.

“Then let me ask one thing.”

Lloyd raised his head and looked straight into Termes’s burning eyes.

“Do you have about eleven nights and twelve days free starting now?”

“……What?”

“I’d like Termes-ssi to fly somewhere with me and come back.”

“Me? With you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re saying we have to fly somewhere for twelve days?”

“Yes. Then you’ll believe me completely.”

“Where?”

Termes asked, suspicion filling his gaze as if to say it couldn’t be.

Lloyd smiled faintly.

As if he were suggesting a quick trip to the neighborhood convenience store.

Or going to cool off under the bank’s air conditioning.

He replied with complete nonchalance.

“To the royal capital, Magenta, to meet Her Majesty the Queen.”

Because it was a simple problem.

What proof could be more certain than an asylum permit issued directly by Her Majesty the Queen?