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chapter 54
Western Territory (4)
“Village chief, what did Hadil demand in return for using the reservoir?”
“They requested a certain amount of silver per container of water. Due to the drought, crops haven’t been harvested properly for years, and with the increased taxes, it’s been very hard for us. If we have to pay for the water we drink every day, the villagers will have no choice but to leave our beloved home. Lord, please have mercy!”
Ian, who had been silent for a moment, looked down at the village chief of Hadil.
“Village chief, your village still has enough water, doesn’t it? Don’t overemphasize your rights to the reservoir. Show some generosity.”
“I apologize, my lord, but if they use it without paying, the reservoir will quickly run dry.”
“No, my lord! How could our villagers waste water so precious as life itself?”
The village chief of Denjuron protested urgently.
“Our village has many workers from the Boshudum mine. Please look after them so they can live a stable life.”
The Hadil village chief seemed to sense that Ian’s favor was leaning toward Denjuron, so he narrowed his eyes and spoke forcefully.
“Boshudum mine?”
Ian snorted and looked up at the hot sky.
“Lie down.”
“Eh?”
“I said lie down.”
Under the lord’s cold gaze, the Hadil village chief awkwardly pretended to lie down.
“Didn’t you hear me? Lie properly!”
Rondo roared at him, and the Hadil village chief finally realized something was wrong, his face stiffening.
“Bring a stick.”
Ian, descending from his horse, took a long stick about the thickness of a wrist and stood beside the lying Tinto chief.
“Just because there’s a Boshudum mine, I have to follow your words blindly?”
“M-my lord, that’s not it.”
“You know what? You’ve been wrong from the start. Didn’t I clearly instruct you to let them share the reservoir? Where does it say to sell water for money, you bastard?”
Ian mercilessly struck the Tinto chief’s rear with the stick.
“Ugh!”
The pain made the Tinto chief’s face go pale white.
“Who do you think you are, causing strife in the territory? When the lord gives orders, you obey, don’t you!”
After another strike, the Tinto chief screamed and collapsed to the floor.
Saliva dribbled from his open mouth along with moans of pain.
“And you! You, too, lie down.”
“M-me, too?”
The Denjuron village chief quickly lay down with a flustered look, instinctively sensing that the lord was not to be trifled with.
“If the Hadil village chief refused my orders, you should have contacted the civil officer and waited for instructions. Instead, you brought weapons to fight? Do you want ten dead, a hundred dead, until the village is ruined?”
Ian struck with the stick again.
“Ugh!”
The Denjuron chief rolled on the floor in agony.
The villagers from both sides watched in tense silence, fearing the lord’s anger might reach them.
“If you don’t want more punishment, get up.”
At Ian’s command, the two chiefs scrambled to their feet.
Although they wielded influence as local nobles, before the lord, they were weak and powerless.
“Face each other.”
The two chiefs looked into each other’s eyes. Sharing the pain of being beaten, they exchanged bitter glances.
Before the drought, they had been close enough to invite each other to their homes for drinks.
“Even if your villages are different, you are all my people. I won’t discriminate under any circumstances. If water is scarce, you must find a way together. I won’t allow you to abandon a neighboring village to save yourself. Hug each other.”
Following the lord’s order, the two chiefs hesitantly embraced.
“Everyone! Come and hug each other! The drought is the enemy, not neighboring villages!”
Ian shouted to the villagers of both villages gathered on the reservoir hill.
At first, the villagers hesitated, but one by one, they came forward and shared warm embraces with their neighbors.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I was scared too. Sorry.”
The villagers reconciled here and there. It was uncertain what the future would hold, but for now, no fight would occur over the reservoir.
“Tinto chief, are you hurt?”
The Hadil village chief, who had taken more lashes than Denjuron’s chief, shook his head, swallowing back tears.
“No, my lord.”
“I had no choice but to strike. Defying the lord’s orders is treason. Be glad it ended with a stick instead of the guillotine.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Is your house far from here?”
“Not far.”
Tinto chief answered politely, enduring the pain in his rear.
“Good. It’s still before lunch. Will you invite me to your home?”
Tinto chief’s face brightened at the question, thinking he might finally be forgiven.
“Of course, my lord!”
Lake Mountain (1)
Most of the royal villas scattered across the country were built for long-term use when royalty visited the territory.
However, some villas served a different purpose.
Winners of royal power struggles, unable to kill close family, needed a place to exile brothers and nephews far away.
A place where people couldn’t easily approach, yet maintained the dignity of the royal family, where one could grow old and die in peace.
The villa atop Lake Mountain in Albern was originally built for this purpose.
But as the kingdom’s history deepened, royal power struggles became brutal, and instead of exile, family members met their end on the guillotine.
Thus, the Lake Mountain villa had long ceased being used as an exile site and remained a secluded villa rarely visited by the royal family.
“So Lake Mountain villa was originally an exile site.”
Ian looked up at the mountain from his horse.
Thick trees wrapped around the mountain, hiding its interior.
Lake Mountain, with its surrounding smaller peaks, was so tall that even low clouds rested there. Reaching the villa at the summit required considerable time.
A zigzagging mountain path led halfway up, so the party moved slowly on horseback.
Birds cried, wild animals scurried away, and water streams seeped from the cliffs, forming waterfalls.
Looking from above was spectacular, but from below, it would have been even more so.
“The streams disappear into underground holes without forming rivers.”
The waterfalls fell into enormous underground chambers, collecting all the streams.
Passing by the drought-stricken Denjuron, Ian found these waters disappearing underground unusually special.
Exiting the cliff path, they reached a wide open space halfway up the mountain.
A group of soldiers blocked the path.
They were Prince Joseph’s guards.
A tall, broad man sitting below the tent slowly stood and walked out.
He had a prickly black beard like a chestnut burr and carried a massive mace, ready to strike anyone if necessary.
“Where are you from?”
“We come from Albern Castle. This is the lord of the Albern family.”
The guard captain dismounted.
“The lord?”
The man looked over Ian on horseback and the dozens of cavalry behind him.
“Strange… The lord of Albern is said to be ill and unable to move. How did you ride all the way here?”
Ian snorted at his suspicious tone.
“Even if I were healthy, that’d be a problem. Who are you?”
“I am Maktero under the prince’s command.”
“You’ve had a hard time protecting the prince in the mountains. Just as you are Maktero, it doesn’t change the fact that I am the lord.”
Maktero bowed briefly to Ian.
“Please forgive my suspicion.”
“That’s fine. You are just fulfilling your duty.”
“Did you come to meet the prince?”
“Yes.”
“Please wait here for a moment.”
Maktero turned and opened a birdcage, sending a messenger bird flying.
The bird flapped rapidly and flew straight toward the mountain summit.
“They wouldn’t refuse to meet me, right?”
Ian whispered to the guard captain.
“No matter how high the prince’s status, he wouldn’t ignore a lord who came all the way up the mountain.”
“The prince is crazy, right?”
“He has madness, but he’s not completely unreasonable. Otherwise, he’d be just a murderer. He unleashed that madness on the battlefield.”
“Are you close to him?”
Ian asked, watching a bird return from the summit.
Five years ago, Zalleng left the castle, and after some thought, shook his head.
“Not that close.”
Ian wanted to confirm if Zalleng had left the royal knights’ deputy chief post because of Prince Twel, but it wasn’t the right time to ask.
Maktero, guarding the mountain path, returned with a reply and approached Ian and the captain.
“I will guide you to the villa.”
“Thank you.”
“But you can’t bring all your guards. You must leave them here.”
Ian thought for a moment and nodded.
“Understood. But this one comes with me.”
He indicated the captain.
“Do as you say.”
It would be inappropriate for the lord to bring soldiers into the quiet villa.
Leaving Rondo and the soldiers halfway up, Ian followed Maktero toward the summit.
After walking silently for a while, Maktero glanced back and spoke quietly.
“Are you Sir Zalleng?”
“You know me?”
“When the border dispute with Krotti occurred, I also participated. I saw you leading the knights from afar.”
Zalleng tried to recall but didn’t recognize Maktero’s huge frame with the mace.
“Sorry, I don’t remember you.”
“That’s fine. During that battle with tens of thousands, only Prince Joseph noticed me.”
Maktero subtly exuded his strong trust and bond with the prince.
“You fought alongside the prince?”
“Yes. We tore through the enemy’s heart, fighting like madmen, hehe.”
He chuckled chillingly.
Watching him, Ian shook his head slightly.
‘This guy doesn’t seem sane either.’
At first, he seemed like a composed general, but his eyes were bloodshot, and his mind appeared unstable.
“I’d like to fight all night with you using that mace, but I guess that’s impossible?”
Maktero’s eyes gleamed, and Zalleng struggled to find the right response.
It was a sudden and somewhat inappropriate comment in front of the lord.
Seeing Zalleng remain silent, Maktero lightly struck the ground with the mace and distracted himself.
“Ah, it’s hot.”
