SLGAW 04

Chapter : 04

A tavern in Rugbadin.

Lately, fights had become a common occurrence here.

Bang!

A burly man with a thick beard slammed his beer mug onto the table and shouted.

“Don’t give me that crap, you bastard! Are you saying Cao Cao was right to kill the man who hid him from Dong Zhuo and even prepared a meal for him?”

The skinny man sitting opposite him immediately shouted back.

“Stop swinging that oversized axe of yours and think for a second! The moment Cao Cao killed the family members, his relationship with Lü Boshe was already ruined! He was a fugitive! What was he supposed to do—say ‘sorry’ and walk away?”

They were arguing about Cao Cao’s murder of Lü Boshe.

After failing to assassinate Dong Zhuo, Cao Cao was sheltered by his father’s old friend, Lü Boshe. Yet he ended up slaughtering Lü Boshe’s household.

There was room for sympathy.

Cao Cao had overheard the sound of knives being sharpened and servants talking about tying someone up and killing them.

Believing they were talking about him, he massacred the entire household.

Then, when Lü Boshe returned carrying wine, unaware of what had happened, Cao Cao killed him as well.

A tragedy, in one sense.

An unforgivable atrocity, in another.

But the true nature of the incident was defined by Cao Cao himself.

“I would rather betray the world than let the world betray me.”

It was his own choice.

He openly declared that he did not regret the massacre.

Because of that, readers could clearly perceive the essence of Cao Cao’s character—not merely whether he was right or wrong.

And through that realization—

“That crazy mage bastard! If things go badly, he’d kill me too!”

“When did I ever say what he did was morally right? I said it was rational!”

“Will you two stop fighting? He’s just a character in a novel!”

—for the first time, people of this world encountered something new.

A truly multidimensional character.

A villainous hero driven by grand ideals, yet calculating and selfish.

And it wasn’t just Cao Cao.

The Tale of the Three Kingdoms was, at its core, a story reconstructed from history.

Its unique realism constantly gave people new topics to debate.

“Then why are they disbanding the anti–Dong Zhuo coalition when Dong Zhuo is still alive?”

“What exactly is there to gain from continuing the war? It’s not like they gathered together to divide the country among themselves. It was never meant to be a long campaign.”

Volume 2 covered Dong Zhuo’s tyranny after seizing control of the Han court, the formation of the anti–Dong Zhuo alliance, Dong Zhuo’s relocation of the capital to Chang’an, and the eventual dissolution of the coalition.

Countless individuals and factions pursued their own interests.

Countless interpretations emerged.

And the more people discussed those interpretations, the larger a different question became.

“Who exactly is this author?”

“K.H.? Never heard of him.”

The author of The Tale of the Three Kingdoms.

The mysterious writer known only by the pen name K.H.

His age, status, and identity were all hidden.

Little by little, public interest began turning toward him.

“He can’t be a commoner. That much is certain.”

“Probably not. You’d need an enormous amount of education to create a world of this scale.”

“But the battle scenes are surprisingly convincing for a scholar. Not perfectly realistic, but close enough.”

People speculated endlessly about the author’s identity while discussing the book.

At the same time, they began writing down the questions they wanted answered.

And naturally, all those letters were sent to a single destination.

Baltheim Publishing.

“Sir, I think all of these letters are for the author…”

Ludwin rubbed his aching temples and told the employee to leave them on his desk.

Seventy letters.

Just today.

Far too many.

“I knew this would happen the moment I read the manuscript…”

If Volume 1 had captivated readers with its grandeur and romantic idealism, then Volume 2 was the exact opposite.

It was a raging fire filled with betrayal, schemes, and shocking developments.

And that fire only fueled the novel’s popularity.

What is this Three Kingdoms story everyone keeps talking about?

Three silver coins? That’s affordable enough.

Word of mouth.

The rumors surrounding The Tale of the Three Kingdoms were spreading at astonishing speed.

People discussed it in taverns.

On street corners.

There were even rumors that copies had begun reaching soldiers stationed on the border.

Ludwin was thrilled.

And worried.

The book was selling extraordinarily well.

Baltheim Publishing was experiencing the greatest boom in its history.

Yet at the same time, he was afraid.

Books had always belonged to nobles, mages, and scholars.

Now those same books were igniting a wildfire among ordinary people.

And this was happening while the novel was still being sold only in Rugbadin.

What would happen if it spread throughout the entire Kingdom of Aldvania?

Would the nobles really remain silent?

“Sir…”

The expression on the employee’s face as he entered the room told Ludwin everything.

His fears had become reality.

“A letter from the House of Marquis Rünter.”

* * *

Volume 2 of The Tale of the Three Kingdoms covered the conflict between Dong Zhuo, who had seized control of the Han imperial court, and the anti–Dong Zhuo coalition.

It ended with Dong Zhuo burning the capital and fleeing, followed by the collapse of the alliance.

Structurally, it was a natural stopping point.

And adding more content would only increase the book’s price.

As a result, planning Volume 3 took less time than expected, and I finally found myself with a little room to breathe.

Which meant I could afford to enjoy life a bit.

I spent an entire day wandering the streets.

I bought freshly baked bread and fine cheese.

Good wine.

Meat.

Vegetables.

I could have visited an expensive restaurant, but no matter how much money I had, commoners rarely received a warm welcome in those places.

So this was enough.

I had never been particularly extravagant in my previous life, either.

Rather than spending recklessly, I intended to save up, move to a better house, and help Father upgrade his candle workshop.

Carrying bags full of food, I returned home and prepared a pleasant family dinner.

Then I finally revealed the secret work I had been doing all this time.

“…!”

They had probably suspected something.

I had tried to keep it hidden, but there was no way they hadn’t noticed Ludwin constantly visiting or me writing by candlelight late into the night.

Still, they had no idea what I had written.

After all, I used a pen name.

K.H.

The initials of my previous life’s name, Yoon Kang-hyun.

No one in this world could possibly connect that name to me.

So it was only natural for Mother and Father to be shocked.

They knew I was writing books.

They just never imagined I was K.H., the author of The Tale of the Three Kingdoms.

My plan had been to establish myself as a writer first, then dramatically reveal my identity and present them with my books.

It had worked perfectly—

“You weren’t studying?”

“…Excuse me?”

I had no idea how they arrived at that conclusion, but apparently they understood enough.

Together with my parents, I enjoyed the aroma of fine wine.

(In this world, even children drank wine as cold medicine.)

It was a small moment of happiness.

I looked forward to earning more money, building a more stable future, and—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hm?”

A knock at the door.

Visitors who arrived in the evening rarely brought good news.

While Father went to answer the door, Mother and I paused our meal and looked anxiously toward the entrance.

Muffled voices could be heard.

Then Father returned holding a letter.

“Ludwin’s employee delivered this.”

Judging by his uneasy expression, it wasn’t good news.

The elegant envelope and the wax seal only made it more ominous.

“This crest…”

Commoners didn’t memorize the crests of noble families.

Normally, seeing a fancy emblem was enough to think, A noble, and bow respectfully.

But this particular crest was different.

Even commoners recognized it.

“The House of Marquis Rünter?”

Father’s face turned pale.

Mother covered her mouth in shock.

Marquis Rünter.

One of the king’s closest nobles.

The Court Secretary.

A man even mentioned as a candidate for the position of Chief Justice.

And above all else—

Rugbadin itself belonged to his territory.

To local commoners, he was more frightening than the king.

Why would someone like that send a letter?

“E-Ed… perhaps your book contained… some kind of dangerous ideas?”

Father’s voice trembled.

And hearing it made me nervous as well.

I had considered how nobles might react to The Tale of the Three Kingdoms.

Still, I had softened and refined the content as much as possible.

I didn’t think there was anything especially offensive in it.

“Let’s… read the letter first.”

I carefully broke the seal and unfolded it.

The handwriting was elegant but extremely formal.

The message itself was short.

“What does it say?”

To be honest, it wasn’t much.

And yet, in another sense, it was enormous.

I looked up from the letter.

“It’s an invitation.”

* * *

Ludwin sat stiffly in his seat, his face pale blue.

He was nearly forty years old.

Was he really that terrified?

I turned my gaze away from him and looked out the carriage window.

Come to think of it, this was my first time leaving Rugbadin.

Commoners in this world rarely traveled.

“Author… aren’t you nervous?”

Ludwin pointed toward the massive city visible in the distance.

“This isn’t some provincial estate—it’s the capital! And this is clearly official business!”

“There’s no reason to assume that…”

Perhaps the Marquis was simply busy with government affairs and wanted us to meet in the capital.

The Court Secretary was an important position, after all.

Besides—

“If this were truly a serious problem, they wouldn’t have sent a letter. Soldiers would’ve already torn your publishing house apart.”

“They might have avoided that because they were afraid you’d disappear!”

“How exactly is a commoner supposed to disappear within Marquis Rünter’s territory without him knowing?”

Not only was it his domain, but as the man overseeing state documents, he possessed extensive information networks.

He had probably already investigated me.

Maybe that’s why he summoned me.

Ten years old by this world’s standards.

Simply knowing how to write was enough to be considered a prodigy.

And yet I had written a bestselling novel.

If I were a noble, I’d want to see such a child with my own eyes.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean his intentions were friendly.

The carriage carried Ludwin and me relentlessly onward.

Toward the capital, Petruan.

Toward the residence of Marquis Rünter.

“We have arrived. Please disembark.”

The coachman spoke in a rigid tone.

Given the surprisingly small escort, I suspected he might actually be a soldier.

Still, pretending to know things I didn’t would only get me into trouble.

Ludwin and I followed a servant into the estate.

The Marquis’s residence was smaller and less extravagant than I had expected.

Perhaps it reflected its owner’s personality.

In some ways, it felt almost austere.

As we waited in the reception room, Ludwin leaned close and whispered repeatedly:

“Whatever happens, apologize first. If he tells you to revise the book, agree immediately. I’ll do everything I can to compensate for the losses…”

“You’re worrying too much.”

To be fair, most people would be terrified in this situation.

And it was entirely possible we had been summoned for bad reasons.

As for me, having already died once, I wasn’t particularly frightened.

Then the door opened.

And my calm composure immediately cracked.

“Remarkable. So you truly are a ten-year-old boy.”

My first impression of Marquis Rünter was that of a hawk.

Sharp eyes.

A thin, lean frame.

Even though he could have hidden it beneath luxurious clothing, his practical attire only made him look leaner.

Yet his voice was thunderous enough to shake the room.

No matter how much life experience I carried from a previous life, how often did one meet someone like this?

I swallowed unconsciously.

Marquis Rünter sat down and looked directly at me.

“You have eyes that do not belong to a child. Do you realize that I am Vilak Rünter, Court Secretary of the Kingdom?”