Chapter 3
Sitting on the wide rim of the fountain, Hyunseong lay back with his arm tucked under his head out of habit.
When he wasn’t fighting otherworlders, his only joy had been lying in the ruins with music playing in his ears. Now, without music, he felt a pang of regret.
‘They’re all giving me strange looks.’
A subtle atmosphere flowed among the soldiers and attendants. It was because of the unusual behavior of the young lord Ian.
Hyunseong knew the reason.
But he didn’t move his arm-pillow.
‘Whatever happens, happens.’
They might whisper about his actions, but no matter what, right now he was Ian.
Only his mind had changed.
Somehow, his body had vanished, and his consciousness had seeped into this foreign world—into the body of a stranger.
A weakling lord, huh…
That didn’t mean he wanted to force himself to live exactly as Ian had before. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t.
The life Ian had lived—born as a noble, raised as a lord—wasn’t something he could simply copy overnight.
And even if he tried, others would notice right away that something felt off.
Better to show them from the start that Ian had changed.
They’re the ones who’ll have to adjust to me. It’s not like I wanted to come here anyway.
Resolving himself, Hyunseong slowly opened his eyes and glanced to the side.
A middle-aged man in a white robe was rushing toward him in a panic.
“Who’s that?”
The young lord, who normally spoke in a refined tone, asked in a rougher voice. Caught off guard, Captain of the Guard Rondo hesitated before replying.
“That is Healer Nekamo, my lord. He has been tending to your health for several years.”
“Is that so? That’s a problem. Seems I’ve been bedridden so long I’ve lost a lot of memories. I must look like a fool, huh?”
Ian sat up, letting go of his arm-pillow, and smiled. Rondo answered firmly with a stiff face.
“No one would dare think such a thing!”
“Good, that’s a relief.”
As Ian spoke with Rondo, Healer Nekamo reached the fountain, his face dripping with sweat. He must have sprinted the moment he heard Ian had awakened.
“My lord, you’re awake! I only left for a moment after watching over you all night… This is wonderful. My efforts weren’t in vain.”
Barely arriving, he immediately excused his brief absence, and then loudly proclaimed that the lord’s recovery was thanks to his care.
“Well, you did well.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Only after Ian’s praise did the chatterbox healer close his mouth with a satisfied look.
By tomorrow, he fully expected the young lord to reward him with a heavy pouch of gold coins.
Heh heh. I thought he was a goner and had even packed my bags. Good thing I didn’t leave.
Chuckling inwardly, he bowed.
“My lord, please return inside. Your body is surely still unwell. You need proper rest.”
“I like it here.”
“…Pardon?”
“This is me resting, so don’t disturb me.”
Startled by Ian’s firm reply, Nekamo flinched and stepped back. For a brief moment, the lord radiated an edge he had never shown before.
Has his mind gone wrong? Why is he so different?
Slipping over to Rondo, Nekamo whispered,
“Did something happen to the lord?”
“How would I know? I should be asking you that. What kind of treatment did you do that he can’t even recognize us properly?”
“He doesn’t recognize you?”
“That’s right.”
“Hmm.”
Nekamo stroked his chin, sneaking glances at the young lord. Ian was perched on the fountain, staring blankly at the sky.
“It’s not unusual for great changes to occur when someone escapes death. But they usually return to normal soon enough. Just wait—he’ll be his old self again.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Because this new self of his doesn’t seem so bad.”
The young lord had always shunned weapons. Yet now, a dagger hung from his belt.
He had always hated the sun, seeking shade wherever he went. Yet now, he sat on a fountain basking in the full sunlight.
Something in him seemed intent on shedding his frail image.
And that stirred something inside the steadfast Rondo.
“Rondo.”
Called by Ian, Rondo quickly left Nekamo’s side.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Who are those two?”
Ian pointed to two men approaching slowly, dressed in luxurious clothes.
“The tall man on the left is Torman, the treasurer who manages your estate’s wealth. The one beside him is Noas, your administrative officer.”
“Treasurer and administrator, huh…”
“Do you truly not remember them either, my lord?”
“Not at all.”
Rondo seemed about to say something but fell silent, stepping aside as the two men drew near.
“We greet our lord.”
The treasurer and administrator bowed, exchanging glances.
The sight of Ian sitting so casually on the fountain rim, without dignity, was strange.
Even stranger was the bold, steady way he looked at them.
Before, he could never meet their eyes—always timid and fearful.
That had been the boy-lord Ian.
But today, he looked different.
He even wore a dagger at his waist.
“My lord’s bright face eases all our worries. We were gravely concerned.”
Though they found him odd, they masked it, speaking with expressions of relief.
“Thank you.”
“Forgive my boldness, my lord, but when you were comatose, I acquired rare medicine and administered it directly into your mouth.”
“Oh, did you now?”
Ian chuckled, scooping water from the fountain into his hands and sprinkling it onto the ground. The cold splash felt nice.
“Yes, indeed. I hope you can see how deeply I care for your well-being.”
The treasurer’s wide lips spread into a huge smile—so large he looked like a hippopotamus.
“But Nekamo says it was his excellent treatment that saved me.”
“Of course, he’s a fine healer. But surely my medicine helped as well, ha ha!”
He bent low, laughing loudly, but fell quiet when Ian simply stared at him in silence.
“There’s a problem.”
“…What problem, my lord?”
“When I woke, I couldn’t recall much of the past. Why, Rondo had to tell me who you two were.”
“What! Truly?”
The treasurer and administrator looked sharply at Nekamo.
“You wretch! What treatment did you give him?”
The treasurer barked, but Ian raised a hand.
“Ah, ah, that’s enough. He’s not to blame.”
“My lord, this is no small matter. He must be punished for harming you.”
“And yet, isn’t it thanks to his effort I survived at all?”
Relieved, Nekamo immediately fell to the ground in prostration.
“My lord! I will forever engrave your grace upon my heart!”
The treasurer and administrator could not openly oppose their lord. With them silent, Ian stepped down from the fountain.
I’m exhausted.
Just speaking to people a little wore his body out. It would take effort to rebuild this weak vessel.
“I’ll be asking a lot of questions from now on. Be ready.”
“Yes, my lord.”
They bowed politely.
Ian climbed into his palanquin and ordered to be taken back to his chambers.
He longed to see beyond the walls of his domain, but his body wouldn’t allow it yet. He would have to wait.
“My lord, a moment, please.”
The administrator quietly stopped him. Ian ordered the palanquin halted and looked down at the old man who approached.
He had the air of a scholar, with notably large ears.
“I know it must be troubling to lack your memories, but there’s a matter requiring your urgent decision.”
“What is it?”
“The decree to recruit mercenaries. You have not yet given your approval.”
“Mercenary recruitment? What’s that?”
The administrator scratched at his white sideburns awkwardly. Ian truly seemed to have forgotten everything.
“It is an order issued in your name to hire mercenaries. Since our number of soldiers is limited, we pay mercenaries when necessary and use their strength.”
Ian nodded as if he understood.
“I see. You see my memory really is like this, as I said earlier.”
He grinned slyly, then asked,
“Fine, so what’s this recruitment for?”
“To subjugate the monsters of the Yondiar region. It is a regular campaign done every five years, and this year is the time again.”
“Monsters…”
“Yes. Fiercer than beasts—creatures that harm people, livestock, even crops. You must decide soon if you are to dispatch mercenaries.”
Ian frowned.
From what he heard, monster subjugation sounded necessary. Why then had the old Ian delayed the decision?
If it’s done every five years, why hesitate?
He decided without much thought.
“Administrator, hire the mercenaries.”
“My lord! You mustn’t decide so hastily!”
The treasurer, who had been listening silently, quickly stepped forward.
“Our finances are in dire straits. Hiring hundreds of mercenaries now would be reckless.”
Ian was inwardly shocked.
What? The estate is poor?
From the large garden, sturdy walls, and well-kept buildings, nothing looked impoverished.
He asked,
“You mean we can’t afford mercenaries at all?”
“We still can, but spending so much on monster subjugation now is unwise, with the future uncertain.”
“But wasn’t it the administrator himself who said it was necessary?” Ian turned to him.
“Not entirely necessary, my lord.”
“…What?” Ian’s voice rose.
“You just said it was essential!”
“I said it would be good to do it, yes.”
“What?”
Ian stared at him incredulously.
“In truth, even if we skip this year, at most three or four villages would suffer. The monsters don’t stray far from that region. If our finances are strained, it’s acceptable to forgo the campaign this year.”
What a load of double-talk.
Ian narrowed his eyes, staring down from the palanquin.
“If finances are the issue, why not send our own soldiers this time?”
“We barely have three hundred soldiers. Half guard the castle, the rest are away with the captain fighting bandits. None remain for monster hunting.”
So few soldiers.
“Is our domain so small?”
“Not especially. For the kingdom, it’s about average.”
The administrator spread his wrinkled hand.
“Oh, we’re the fifth largest?”
“No, my lord. The fifth from the bottom.”
Ian’s expression fell.
“I see. That explains the small number of soldiers.”
“Not quite. We used to have about a thousand, but the former lord reduced them bit by bit, saying they were too costly.”
“The former lord…?”
“Your father, my lord.”
The administrator explained further, mindful of Ian’s supposed lost memories, and recounted the past in detail.
