Chapter 200
Hi everyone! The main story of Greatest Estate Developer has officially concluded, but don't worry—Side Stories will be released next week. As promised, I'll also be reposting the earlier chapters starting from Chapter 1, though they won't follow a fixed schedule. Thank you all so much for your amazing support! I hope you'll continue supporting me, especially with my upcoming translation projects.
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Morning broke.
‘Hoo. I’m finally leaving this place.’
Count Ventura, Magentano’s special envoy, lifted his gaze with a strange swell of emotion.
The Sultan’s palace in Ahinsa—now painfully familiar—filled his vision.
‘I never thought I’d be stuck here this long.’
Had it really been about five months since he arrived under the King’s orders?
Back then, he’d assumed he would sit across from the Sultan at a negotiating table almost immediately.
But the moment he set foot here, he realized how wrong he was.
He had been met with blatant disregard and icy treatment.
If Lloyd, the eldest son of the Frontera family, hadn’t stepped in back then…
‘Negotiations would still be a distant dream.’
He would still be swallowing neglect and coldness.
Or he would’ve been forced to return home empty-handed.
Unlike today.
‘Thank goodness. Truly.’
The results were a resounding success.
Returning like this, he would receive high praise from the Queen.
‘And it’s all thanks to Lloyd, that young friend.’
Ventura wondered if Lloyd had escaped Ahinsa safely.
Had he pulled off his midnight escape?
For a moment, worry tugged at him—then he chuckled.
No news meant he hadn’t been caught, at least.
Besides, judging by the atmosphere in the palace this morning, something far bigger had happened—something too big for them to spare even a glance at the disappearance of one foreign attendant.
“I heard there was an incident last night. Is that true?”
“Yes, it seems so.”
The chief attendant nodded at Ventura’s question.
“The palace has been in disarray since morning. So I cautiously asked a palace insider I’ve become acquainted with.”
“What did they say?”
“They said one of the princesses has disappeared.”
“The Sultan’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Kidnapped?”
“I don’t think so. It seems…”
“Seems?”
“She left on her own.”
“Huh. So she ran away.”
“Yes.”
“Hah.”
Ventura let out a hollow laugh.
In this era—and especially inside the Sultan’s tightly sealed palace—a princess ran away.
‘No wonder the palace is in chaos.’
Ventura nodded.
The palace this morning truly was different.
It felt tense and messy, like someone had overturned a beehive.
Even though the Magentano envoy—including himself—was departing, there was no grand send-off.
The Sultan didn’t even appear.
‘I didn’t expect one anyway.’
And in any case, the disappearance of the Sultan’s daughter had nothing to do with him or Magentano’s mission.
“Then we depart.”
Ventura led the envoy group out.
Palace officials gave them a modest send-off.
They left the palace.
They left the capital, Ahinsa.
They set out for home.
The journey back was smooth and uneventful.
They passed the same roads and cities as before.
They followed the safest route through the desert.
At last, they crossed the border.
And that evening, they met up with Lloyd and Javier, who were waiting nearby.
“You two—have you been waiting long?”
“Well, honestly? Quite a while.”
Lloyd, camped in a rocky crevice a short distance from the border, shrugged.
He greeted Ventura and the envoy warmly.
“I’m glad no one got killed by the Sultan and you all got out safely. Truly fortunate.”
“Hahaha. Yes. Fortunate indeed. Unlike someone, we weren’t the people the Sultan had his eye on.”
“Oh? Is that a barb?”
“Of course it is. Considering the cold sweat I shed because of you, I’m being generous.”
“Is that so?”
“Of course. If you’d seen the Sultan’s expression when he heard you’d contracted some severe endemic disease and had to return urgently… hoo.”
“You must’ve suffered.”
“Not as much as you—running off in the night with barely any preparation. How was it? Didn’t you suffer?”
“Not really, thankfully.”
Lloyd gestured toward Javier with his chin.
“Thanks to this guy. A Swordmaster is absurdly useful.”
It was true.
The best preparation Lloyd made for his escape wasn’t gear.
It was Javier.
If soldiers came after them, Javier could cut a path through any encirclement.
If monsters appeared, it became a simple matter of deciding what to eat for lunch.
And there was one more thing.
The effect of the Praise he had recently obtained—<Veteran Young Master of the West>—was no joke.
‘I won’t suffer dehydration in any situation… in all desert regions, and in all regions with an average annual temperature above 40°C.’
At first, Lloyd had doubted it.
He wondered if it would activate properly.
But crossing the desert while fleeing proved it.
At least out there, it was the best possible effect.
‘I could tap dance under the desert sun all day without getting dehydrated.’
Even Javier had been stunned.
A Swordmaster was visibly worn down by the heat, yet Lloyd looked fine.
Javier had asked how that was possible, and Lloyd had responded with a smug grin.
“Hey. It’s all mental strength. Mental strength.”
…Or so he claimed.
Either way, thanks to that, the escape was easier than expected.
Even while waiting for the envoy to arrive at the border, they hadn’t suffered much.
“Anyway, I’m glad we all met safely.”
“I feel the same. Ah, and…”
Ventura smiled warmly.
“I haven’t properly thanked you yet. It’s late, but I’ll say it now. Thank you.”
“Ah, thank you.”
“No. We should be thanking you. At first, I treated you like a snob.”
“Haha. I am a snob, though.”
“No. You’re our benefactor.”
Lloyd tried to brush it off.
Ventura shook his head sternly.
“If it weren’t for you, negotiations with the Sultan wouldn’t have been possible. Who else would think of drawing the Sultan’s attention by spending the Padashar he provided so lavishly in that situation? And the construction you carried out after signing a contract with the Sultan…”
“The Qanat?”
“Yes. The Qanat. Thanks to that, we were able to open the negotiating table. I know it. If you hadn’t completed that project, negotiations would’ve been impossible.”
Ventura spoke from the heart.
He wasn’t exaggerating.
While Lloyd was away in the Kandahar Region building the Qanat, Ventura assumed he only needed to wait a few months.
But as time dragged on, he began to understand the palace’s true nature.
That dismissive “six months” the palace officials had thrown at him early on?
It didn’t mean he would get a meeting after six months.
‘Six months wouldn’t have been enough. Six years wouldn’t have been enough.’
Ventura was certain.
The Sultan had never intended to meet them at all.
When Ventura realized it, the disappointment was crushing.
The self-blame was worse.
“Because I couldn’t fulfill the mission Her Majesty gave me. Because I couldn’t even reach the negotiating table. Because I could already see myself returning empty-handed. Because I could sense war would eventually erupt. And… because I could see countless young men dying on the battlefield. I was devastated. But you pulled it off.”
Ventura looked straight at Lloyd.
“It’s all thanks to you. The negotiations. Preventing the war. Saving the lives of countless young people.”
“Uh, well… I just didn’t want my territory to get caught up in a war…”
“That’s the same thing.”
“Ah. Yep.”
Ventura emphasized it with a stubborn certainty.
Lloyd could tell.
This man had a strong ‘you have to agree with me’ streak.
That was why Lloyd froze at the next sentence.
“I will report your achievements to Her Majesty in great detail when I return to the royal capital.”
“…Please don’t.”
“I can’t. This is the only way I can repay your kindness.”
“……”
Haa.
So I’ve made another “achievement.”
Please don’t let this become a reason for Queen Alicia to summon me.
Lloyd sincerely wished it.
After joining up with the envoy, they continued together.
They crossed the wilderness.
They crossed the Eastern Mountain Range.
At last, they returned to Frontera County—the honey pot he had missed so much.
He reunited with the Count and his wife.
They welcomed him warmly.
Then the Countess immediately unleashed a barrage of worried fussing.
“Oh my. Are you alright?”
“Ah, yes.”
“How could you get so thin?”
“Um, I’ve been eating well. I think I gained weight, if anything.”
“No. Your cheeks are sunken. Come on—hurry. Eat first.”
“Um, I already ate while coming down the mountain…”
“What do you want to eat first?”
“Ah, that’s not it. Did the refugees led by Turtle Neck arrive? Mr. Termes…”
“They arrived. Would you like duck?”
“…No, um—have the ceramics and silk arrived yet? I sent something by ship through Cremo. It should be arriving about now…”
“I don’t know about ceramics or silk, but beef sounds good today.”
“……”
So Lloyd was forced into a relentless round of eating before he could even shake off the fatigue of returning home.
In the middle of it, he heard welcome news.
It was about his younger brother Julian.
“Don’t be surprised,” the Count of Frontera said with a smile. “Julian graduated second in his class.”
“…Really?”
Lloyd widened his eyes, genuinely shocked.
‘Jackpot.’
Second in the academy.
That wasn’t a small feat.
‘Getting in is hard, but graduating is worse.’
He recalled what the novel Iron-Blooded Knight briefly mentioned about the royal capital’s academy.
It was notorious for brutal graduation standards.
If a hundred entered, only around twenty would graduate.
And graduation wasn’t even the end.
‘Only the top ten percent of the graduates get directly appointed as royal officials. The rest still have to take separate employment exams—just with bonus points.’
But Julian was second.
That meant direct appointment was guaranteed.
By South Korean standards, it was like placing second in the highest-tier civil service exam.
‘Queen Alicia is going to work him to the bone.’
Lloyd silently mourned.
Queen Alicia wasn’t the type to let talent sit idle.
If she found someone capable, she used them until there was nothing left.
So Julian—proving his brilliance by graduating second—would likely be run ragged.
But Julian would probably be happy about it.
That was why he studied so hard in the first place.
Thinking that, Lloyd asked,
“So is he coming home?”
“Yes. He has a short break before he receives his assignment. Actually, he sent you a letter a few days ago when he left the royal capital. Here.”
The Count handed him the letter.
Lloyd read it.
To my brother.
I graduated. And I got pretty good grades, too. It’s all thanks to you. Because I was able to focus entirely on studying. Because I worked really hard. And because meeting you again after so long made me realize a lot.
Thank you.
I’ll come see you soon.
Julian, who wants to be your proud brother.
“……”
Lloyd read it carefully.
Every black stroke on the white paper felt precious.
It wasn’t even long, but he kept rereading it, pride swelling in his chest.
Before he realized it, he had read it five times.
A strange satisfaction rose in him, too.
‘Graduation.’
He had wanted that once.
He wanted to graduate, pass the knight exam, get a proper job.
But before he could see the results of his effort, he ended up here.
Sure, he was doing fine now thanks to what he’d learned back then.
Still, the regret of not getting that diploma lingered in one corner of his heart.
‘Well, a diploma doesn’t feed you.’
South Korea wasn’t a place where a basic degree solved everything.
The real fight started after that.
Still—
‘I wanted to finish.’
He worked hard and didn’t get it.
So he carried regrets.
But Julian had achieved something beyond expectations.
And he credited Lloyd.
He even wrote that he wanted to be a proud brother.
Lloyd felt grateful.
Proud.
As if Julian had achieved what Lloyd couldn’t, and handed it to him.
‘You little punk.’
When he comes home, I’m flicking his forehead.
With that resolution, Lloyd carefully folded the letter.
So it wouldn’t crease.
He tucked it into his inner pocket.
Even as the meal continued.
Even as he enjoyed the reunion.
One hand kept drifting to his chest.
Every time he felt the soft rustle of the letter in his inner pocket, it felt like it was answering him.
It made him proud.
And grateful.
He couldn’t stop smiling.
Watching Lloyd, the Count and his wife also felt quietly happy.
Their eldest son, who had always caused trouble, now felt like a reliable pillar.
Their timid second son had grown into someone ready to take on state affairs.
More than that, both sons had grown well—diligently and healthily.
The couple smiled together, as if they’d embraced the entire world.
That was why neither of them could imagine it.
That at this very moment, an uninvited guest—carrying business for their proud eldest son—had arrived at the outskirts of the territory.
♣
“Hoo.”
Is this finally the end of this long journey?
Now all I have to do is meet Lloyd Frontera, record that strange lullaby he keeps babbling into this magic orb, and take it back.
‘Then I’ll finally be able to sleep comfortably again.’
A noble princess of the Sultanate.
But now, a high-ranking Sword Expert suffering from lullaby withdrawal.
Scheherazade looked down at Frontera County at the foot of the Eastern Mountain Range, her black pearl-like eyes gleaming.
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