Chapter 201

“Bibeong-!”

A resounding alarm echoed from the lake in the eastern mountain range.

With Bibeong’s cry, morning began in Frontera County.

Lloyd’s eyes snapped open.

“Haha.”

The first thing he saw was his long-missed bedroom.

It wasn’t as extravagant as the royal villa in the capital or the Sultanate’s guest house.

It was cozy.

Familiar.

He’d missed this room more than he expected during the six months or so he’d spent in the Sultanate.

“Young Master Lloyd? Are you awake?”

The moment he made a sound, a cautious voice came from outside the door.

That voice was familiar, too—welcome.

“Yeah, come in.”

The door opened slowly.

Emily, the maid, peeked in through the gap and smiled bashfully.

“I brought breakfast.”

“Thank you. Did you wait long?”

“No. Just a little.”

“That’s a problem. You must’ve waited a lot.”

“No. I really only waited a little. It’s okay.”

Even the smell of the breakfast on the tray felt comforting.

Bean soup that wouldn’t burden his stomach, shredded boiled chicken, whole wheat bread with two sausages, a perfectly half-cooked fried egg, a chunk of goat cheese, and warm milk.

It was a simple breakfast, nothing like a noble family’s.

But Lloyd liked it best.

‘It’s a buffet compared to my boarding house days. A buffet.’

He didn’t want anything too luxurious.

It was heavy on both his stomach and his mood.

This was enough.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

“Yes, Young Master. I’ll come clear it away when you’re done.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, right.”

Emily, who had been about to leave after setting the tray down, stopped and turned back. She smiled bashfully again.

“I’m glad you returned safely.”

“……Yeah.”

Emily swayed out of the room before he could properly answer.

Lloyd stared at the door for a moment.

Is this what it feels like to be popular?

That feeling of being welcomed by everyone.

It wasn’t bad.

No—honestly, it was good.

‘That’s why I like it here.’

A smile came naturally.

Then he remembered the first time he’d come here.

Back then, everyone’s eyes had been cold.

As if they were looking at someone they shouldn’t be seeing.

As if they’d run into yet another irritating troublemaker.

The discomfort, the desire to avoid him, the reluctance to get involved—it had all been plainly visible.

And he’d turned those looks into warm greetings.

Who did that?

He did.

‘I’ve worked hard for this.’

The reason their attitude had changed was simple.

He’d worked hard, made the effort, and produced results.

So now he wanted to live comfortably, enjoying the honey pot he’d made with his own hands.

‘I can do it.’

How many problems had he solved by now?

He’d repaid the territory’s debt and prevented the Monster Domino.

He’d accepted and settled the refugees.

He’d prevented the epidemic.

He’d secured ample funds and avoided war with the Sultanate.

‘I solved all that. Who? Me. So now I’m going to play. Goodbye to the tedious grind. I’m going to live like a landlord, lazing around for the rest of my life. As long as Her Majesty the Queen doesn’t call me. I just need to set things up so that doesn’t happen.’

Lloyd firmly solidified his newfound hope for the future (?) and picked up his fork.

He enjoyed the simple but delicious breakfast.

He enjoyed the first day of his honey-sucking life.

In the morning, he took a walk.

He enjoyed the warm, moist sunlight of early summer.

Along the way, he met familiar faces.

The rebel forces from the Sultanate.

But now, they were refugees—and residents of Frontera County.

It was Termes and the rebel executives.

“I’m glad everyone arrived safely.”

They said they’d arrived about five days earlier than he had.

Because they were traveling with families of all ages, they couldn’t move quickly, but thanks to Turtle Neck and the Bone Corps members’ protection and guidance, they crossed the desert and slipped over the border safely.

After that, the first day of his honey-sucking life kept him busy in the best way.

If the morning had been for welcome meetings, the afternoon was for even more welcome deliveries.

“What… is all this?”

A little after lunch, dozens of carts rolled into Frontera County.

They were packed with large chests.

They looked so heavy Lloyd worried the wheels might collapse.

Baron Arcos Frontera’s mouth fell open at the sight.

Then it happened.

“Lloyd Frontera! Are you here by any chance?”

The man leading the first cart shouted toward the mansion.

At the shout, Lloyd shot out the front door like the wind.

“Yes! I’m coming!”

When receiving a package, you had to be fast.

With the most excited, joyful heart possible.

He finished signing the receipt.

Immediately, the workers began unloading the chests from the carts.

“What on earth is going on?”

Baron Arcos Frontera asked haltingly as he watched.

A satisfied smile spread across Lloyd’s face.

“Packages—no, precious deliveries.”

“Deliveries?”

“Yes.”

Lloyd nodded and said something that made the Baron’s ears perk up.

“Porcelain, silk, carpets, spices, and what else was there? Anyway, they’re all specialties from Ahinsa, the Sultanate’s capital.”

“……Ahinsa’s specialties?”

“Yes.”

“Who on earth sent you all this?”

“I did.”

“Huh?”

“I sent them. When I went to Ahinsa.”

Lloyd’s smile deepened as he briefly explained the money-spending spree he’d gone on in Ahinsa.

“……That’s how I hired a merchant ship and commissioned the transport.”

“You had them come here via Cremo Port?”

“Yes. It was probably a good call. I must’ve picked a reliable ship. I was worried the goods wouldn’t arrive properly—or on time—since it’s such a long distance.”

“…….”

Lloyd smiled as if it were nothing.

Baron Arcos Frontera fell silent.

All those chests were filled with eastern specialties—porcelain, silk, and more.

“Then, what can this father do?”

The Baron swallowed and forced himself to think.

Lloyd answered immediately, as if he’d been waiting for the question.

“I think you could look for sales outlets. In the capital, Cremo, Namaran, and so on. Of course, you don’t have to sell them all at once.”

“That’s true.”

The Baron nodded.

It was an enormous amount at a glance.

Could he sell all of it at once?

He didn’t think so.

‘It would be great if there were outlets that could handle it. But even most large merchant guilds wouldn’t be able to pour that much money out in one go.’

And specialties—especially luxury goods—had limited demand.

Meaning the number of people with the purchasing power to buy them was limited.

So even if he wanted to, he couldn’t sell everything at once.

“I understand. Yes, leave it to this father.”

“Yes, and don’t push yourself. It’s fine to dispose of them slowly, little by little.”

“Okay.”

The Baron nodded and patted Lloyd’s shoulder.

Lloyd could feel the pride in that touch.

A smile came naturally.

That was how Lloyd diligently received his “packages”.

He called the Bone Corps and stacked the specialty chests neatly in the warehouse.

And then the day ended.

“Hooah. Now it feels like I’m living like a human being. Right?”

He asked as he turned around after stepping out of the warehouse.

Javier had stayed silently by his side all day.

But even after Lloyd spoke, Javier didn’t answer.

“What’s wrong? Is something the matter?”

“…….”

Sure enough, Javier’s expression wasn’t good.

In short, he looked like someone who’d stepped in dog poop before even taking the tag off a new, expensive pair of sneakers.

Lloyd’s eyes turned mischievous as he watched him.

“Tsk. Something must be up. Right?”

“…….”

“What is it? Don’t tell me you’re still unhappy with me.”

“Yes.”

Javier finally answered.

The corners of Lloyd’s lips slowly rose.

“Unhappy with me. What kind of unhappy?”

“…….”

“Judging by how you’re still clamming up, you must really be sulking…….”

“Was Lloyd-nim’s lullaby free?”

Under the setting sun, Javier tilted his head, prickly.

He fixed Lloyd with even sharper eyes.

“I believed Lloyd-nim’s lullaby demanded a considerable price.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That woman.”

“Scheherazade?”

“Yes.”

Javier nodded, his stare growing even more intense—cold, dead-fish eyes.

“You remember the first day we arrived in Kandara. Right after you sang Scheherazade a lullaby, you said this: the lullaby isn’t free. You said you’d get a hefty price worthy of it, even if she didn’t know it yet.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“But what is this?”

“What?”

“In the end, Lloyd-nim didn’t get anything from that woman.”

“Hmm. You think so?”

“Yes.”

Walking side by side, Javier’s prickly words continued.

“Surely you’re not going to claim the fact that you received help from the rebels more easily—just because you put her to sleep—counts as the price.”

“Yeah. Of course not.”

“Then what on earth did you receive?”

“That woman’s future.”

“……Yes?”

Lloyd answered casually.

Javier stopped in his tracks.

A meaningful smile had spread across Lloyd’s face.

“I’ll say it again. My lullaby is expensive. Because I mortgaged that woman’s future.”

“……What does that mean?”

Javier tilted his head.

He mortgaged Scheherazade’s future with a lullaby?

“Surely you don’t mean that woman will dedicate her future because of the lullaby.”

“Yeah, roughly.”

Lloyd nodded.

“Scheherazade has tremendous talent. You know that well—you crossed swords with her yourself. Right?”

“Yes.”

“How much did you feel it, exactly?”

“She has the talent to become a Swordmaster within twenty years.”

“That’s right. That’s what I think too.”

Lloyd smiled brightly.

It was true.

Javier’s assessment was accurate.

In the novel Iron Blooded Knight, Scheherazade was introduced that way.

She was said to have talent comparable to Queen Alicia Termina Magentano.

A talent that would definitely become a Swordmaster within twenty years.

‘But she couldn’t bloom that talent.’

The reason was simple.

Because she died before then.

‘She fought to the end to protect the Sultan when he was driven into rebellion. Even in her final moments, she wanted her father to acknowledge her. She took unreasonable risks even when she could have retreated.’

That was how she met a futile end.

She couldn’t bloom her brilliant talent.

But what about now?

The story had changed.

Because of the Qanat he had created.

‘Now rebellion won’t happen. Because the drought in the Kandahar Region has been resolved thanks to the Qanat. Because the people’s complaints have been quelled. So the Sultan won’t be surrounded by rebels, and Scheherazade won’t die fighting to protect him.’

In other words, she wouldn’t die.

She would survive, steadily, and reach the realm of Swordmaster within twenty years.

“That’s why.”

Lloyd spoke as if hammering in a nail.

“There’s someone who’ll become a Swordmaster within twenty years in our potential enemy country. On top of that, she’s the Sultan’s daughter. There may come a day when she points her sword at our territory. Are you just going to leave that alone?”

“That’s…….”

“Of course we have to do something.”

“How?”

“Either make that sprout mine, or if I can’t have it, put medicine on it so it grows less.”

Lloyd’s bright smile turned slightly wicked.

“Our relationship with the Sultan has improved for now. But there’s no guarantee it’ll stay that way in ten or twenty years. In the end, it’s still a potential enemy country. That’s why I sang a lullaby to Scheherazade every day while we were in Kandara.”

“……You were creating a habit.”

“Oh, you noticed already?”

“Because I’m the one who got victimized by that.”

“That’s right. Correct.”

Lloyd shrugged.

Then he continued.

“She listened to the lullaby for over four months. Thanks to that, she slept soundly. But what about now? The lullaby suddenly disappeared. She must be completely thrown off. Because she can’t sleep well anymore.”

It was true.

Sudden insomnia after sleeping well every day.

She would struggle with that abrupt change.

“She’s probably thinking she would’ve been better off never knowing the lullaby at all. Why? Because she tasted it. She knows what that comfort feels like. So she can’t go back to the way she was before. She’s no longer the person who endured sleep deprivation with sheer grit.”

“……Did you remove the poison from that woman that would break down the wall of Swordmaster Syndrome?”

“Yeah.”

Lloyd nodded as if to say, exactly.

It was the same with anything.

Even if someone could tolerate discomfort before, once they tasted comfort, they changed.

Once you get used to a remote control, you use it every time you watch TV.

Even someone who was fine with just a fan can’t leave the air conditioner once they’ve tasted it.

The heater, the car, the elevator, the internet, the smartphone—same thing.

‘And it’s even worse with sleep, since it directly affects the body.’

Scheherazade, suffering from Swordmaster Syndrome, would be no different.

That terrible insomnia that tormented her day and night.

Before, she must have endured it as if it were normal.

Even under such harsh conditions, she must have trained relentlessly, steadily raising her level.

Then she suddenly tasted the lullaby.

She learned the ultimate comfort.

“So now she can’t go back to the way she was before. She won’t be able to keep the same determination and raise her level at the same pace. Of course, she might force herself back into it with unexpected willpower, but it’ll take quite a bit of time.”

“So you mean you can delay the time it takes her to become a Swordmaster by a lot?”

“Yeah. Unless she comes here.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“……Lloyd-nim, you really are.”

“Go ahead and swear.”

“…….”

Lloyd turned to look at him and casually lifted the corners of his mouth.

Maybe it was that expression.

Because Javier finally spat out the most satisfying curse he knew—the one he’d been saving for a long time—right at Lloyd.