Chapter 17
Jalang Deporte (4)
“Thank you!”
Stepping down from the carriage, Linda cheerfully greeted the coachman.
Thanks to Ian’s consideration, she had come from the castle to Camu in an instant.
She stood for a moment, watching the carriage roll away, then turned and headed past the bustling village square toward the slums.
The cheerfulness usually on her face had disappeared. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, weighed down with heaviness.
“Should I really go?”
She had said she would check on the fate of the patient whose rotting foot had not been amputated.
Maybe it was a cruel impulse—a determination to see with her own eyes that her prediction had been right.
At some point, her steps slowed, and she hesitated in the street like someone who had lost her way.
“Even if it’s hard, I have to go. I need to see the patient’s end. That way, I’ll grow stronger in my skills.”
Resolving herself, she lifted her head and stepped into the slums, where crumbling brick houses crowded together.
The streets of Camu’s centuries-old slum twisted like a maze, and a wrong turn could mean wandering for a long time.
But Linda had visited often and was used to navigating the narrow, tangled alleys.
Pressing herself against a wall to let a dark-skinned man with a sack of grain pass, she then continued on.
As she turned a corner, the cramped lane opened into a wider space where a large communal well stood.
There were several wells in the slums for drinking water, but this was the biggest of them.
“Nice! Push harder!”
“Don’t dodge, fight him head-on! What’s the use of that big body?”
The clearing around the well was in chaos. Dozens of people had gathered to bet money on a fight.
For the slum dwellers, it was both entertainment and a chance to win some coin if luck was on their side.
A big man was sent sprawling by the fist of a bloodied young fighter. Some cursed, others shouted for joy.
The victor staggered toward the well and washed the blood from his face.
“Hah… hah…”
As he panted, Linda stepped in front of him, her eyes wide in shock.
“Are you… all right?”
“Oh, it’s you.”
Catching his breath, the man chuckled.
“Are you going to tell me to cut off my ankle again?”
He pulled off his shoe to show her.
“See? I’m fine. No more foul-smelling pus, and I can even fight like this.”
“What happened to you?”
Linda couldn’t tear her eyes from his foot, which had somehow healed completely overnight.
“What happened? What you see is what it is. If I’d listened to you, I’d be crippled for life, living under my family’s pity.”
He got up without answering further and headed to the butcher’s with the money he’d won.
The butcher’s shop was on the street left of the well.
“Give me a good portion.”
“Can’t give too much, taxes are killing me. I have to eat, too.”
The butcher sliced a chunk of pork from a pig’s leg, laid it on a broad leaf, and handed it over.
“Thanks.”
The man seemed satisfied with the heavy weight of the meat and gave the butcher a nod.
Despite his words, it looked like he’d been given a generous cut.
Whistling, he walked off with the meat, but frowned when he noticed Linda trailing behind him.
“Why are you following me? I told you my foot’s healed.”
“I haven’t had my answer yet. Who treated you? It couldn’t have healed on its own.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters to me. You were my patient.”
“Patient, my ass. Don’t act like some saint, girl. If you really want to act good, tell your lord to give us some bread or meat instead of just taking our money.”
Linda glared at him, then jabbed her finger into his chest.
Startled, he stepped back.
“What are you doing?”
“If you want to curse the lord, go ahead—I’ll listen. But you should be ashamed. When no one cared about a poor bastard like you, I touched your wound and drained your pus. I focused only on your pain, nothing else mattered to me. And what about you? Standing there sneering at me from the steps—that’s all you have to offer?”
The man’s face flushed red.
He knew she was right. Others in the slums had been healed—or even had their lives saved—thanks to Linda.
Unlike the lord, she had a good reputation, giving her treatments for free.
Fidgeting with the meat in its leaf wrapper, he leaned against a wall and nodded.
“Sorry if I spoke too harshly. Growing up rough here made my tongue sharper than it should be.”
Linda silently watched him for a while, then pulled a small jar from her leather bag.
The salve, mixed from six herbs, was good for healing wounds quickly.
“The cut under your eye is deep. You should use this.”
“…Aren’t you angry?”
“Just put it on.”
Her eyes softened with warmth as she handed him the salve.
Hesitant, he dipped his fingers into the yellow ointment and spread it over his wound. The stinging pain quickly faded.
“All I have is this meat. Take it.”
He tried to hand her the pork, but she shook her head.
“It’s fine. Share it with your family.”
“I can eat later. Take it—it’s thanks for yesterday, too.”
He pressed it into her hands.
The smell of blood seeped from between the leaves.
Linda stared down at the meat in her hands for a moment, then lifted her eyes.
The man was already walking away in the distance.
“You still haven’t told me! How were you healed?”
At her shout, he stopped.
He stood still, eyes troubled, clenching his jaw before turning back.
“Do you really need to know? I’m fine now.”
“I’d be truly grateful if you told me.”
“Even if it puts you in danger?”
“Why would it be dangerous?”
She looked at him curiously as she walked closer.
“Because from the way you act, if I tell you… you’ll definitely go there yourself.”
Josh (1)
Before going out, Ian stood in front of a mirror, moving his body this way and that to check his reflection.
“Oh? This kind of looks like a suit style.”
Slim, high-quality brown trousers, a flowing blue shirt, and a knee-length coat in pure gold tones.
“Do you like it, my lord?”
The old chamberlain asked as he brushed dust from the hem of the coat.
“It looks good, but isn’t the coat too flashy?”
“It is flashy, but it carries dignity as well. Since this is your first outing beyond the castle walls as lord, you should wear something of this level, should you not?”
Ian, who had been about to take off the golden coat, kept it on after hearing this and looked at himself in the mirror again.
With his chin slightly raised and body angled, his reflection gave off an air that was cold and arrogant.
The chamberlain, studying Ian’s appearance in the mirror, nodded to himself as if something had become clear.
“So that’s it. It’s the eyes. That’s why he looks different.”
Since awakening from his coma, the lord had lost his memory but seemed to have gained that piercing gaze.
With those eyes alone, his small frame no longer looked weak.
“My lord, if you don’t like it, shall we try another outfit?”
Several other garments were prepared behind the chamberlain.
“No, this one will do.”
Ian stepped away from the mirror and buckled a dagger at his waist over the newly donned trousers.
The attendants moved to help, but Ian raised his hand to stop them.
“Chamberlain.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I’ve heard there’s a training hall beneath the manor.”
“That is correct.”
The training hall beneath the lord’s manor was where previous lords had practiced swordsmanship.
Of course, not every lord had used it—some disliked sweating, and others, like Ian, had been too frail to make use of it.
“It must be covered in dust too, right?”
“Regrettably, yes.”
“I’ll likely be using it often from now on, so make the arrangements. And—this outfit, I like it, Chamberlain.”
Ian lightly patted the chamberlain’s shoulder as he bowed, then climbed into the four-horse carriage waiting in front of the manor.
This carriage, used by generations of lords, had the Albern family crest—the giant supporting a crown—engraved in fine detail on both sides.
“Rondo, why is our family’s crest a giant holding up a crown?”
From inside the carriage, Ian called out to Rondo, who was riding alongside.
Rondo touched the Albern crest stamped into his armor.
Though less ornate than the carvings on the carriage, the symbol reminded him of his belonging to the Albern line.
“In ancient times, the giants fought dragons on behalf of the gods. They were so brave and powerful their strength could even pierce magic itself, and thus they were revered like gods of battle. Centuries ago, the ancestor who founded our house declared that, like the giants, he would become the pillar supporting the kingdom.”
“A pillar supporting the kingdom, huh… grand words.”
Ian chuckled softly and glanced around the carriage interior.
Large enough to be pulled by four horses, it was wide and long enough that one could even lie down inside.
And yet, Ian was the only passenger.
“Mount up!”
At Rondo’s command, the dozens of soldiers waiting with reins in hand swung into their saddles.
Because this was the lord’s first time leaving the castle, a tension hung over the faces of the escorting soldiers.
The people of the domain did not hold their lord in high regard, and on the way to the government office in Camu, anything could happen.
“Cut down anyone who dares approach against orders, whoever they are!”
With his cold order, Rondo lowered the visor of his helmet. The soldiers followed suit, their faces set grimly.
“Rondo, ease up. We’re not going to war.”
“If trouble breaks out, my lord, you’ll be the one hurt.”
At his firm reply, Ian could only gesture helplessly.
“Fine, let’s go.”
“Yes! All units, move out!”
With Rondo’s command, the cavalry surrounding the carriage set off at a steady pace, passing through the manor grounds and heading toward the castle gate.
On the way, healer Nekamo joined them, along with Harmon—the officer who had been on night duty—and another dozen soldiers. In total, nearly fifty men now rode to guard Ian.
Escorted by flag-bearing soldiers, Ian leaned slightly out of the carriage window, gazing ahead.
There stretched a broad, clear road under the bright blue sunlight, linking the castle atop its sloping hill with the town of Camu below.
“So the old Ian disappeared without ever even setting foot on this fine road?”
Hyunseong felt a flicker of gratitude toward the real Ian, who had vanished but left him this new life.
“Blanzor, what do you think of this carriage? Quite splendid, isn’t it?”
Blanzor, seated beside him after emerging from the dagger, snorted.
— Raise your standards. To be impressed by such a clumsy, needlessly large carriage… If you had seen the emperor’s carriage I once served in, you would faint.
“Well, I won’t faint since I’ll never see it.”
— You could, if you visited the emperor’s tomb. The carriage rests there.
“The emperor’s tomb?”
Ian turned from the passing scenery to look at Blanzor.
— Every emperor of the Empire left behind a tomb as grand as their own majesty.
“And you know where it is? Do you know the location?”
— Don’t get greedy. Your capacity is only fit for this tiny domain.
“Ah, so that’s it. You’re sulking because I haven’t gone to the mountains to train in swordsmanship, aren’t you?”
— The promise you made with me should come before all else. Yet here you are, consumed by petty concerns over this little domain, blind to what truly matters.
“Is that what you think?”
Ian studied him silently for a moment, then turned his gaze back outside the carriage.
Before long, the largest town in Albern, Camu, loomed close.
“Everyone has their own standards. Don’t try to force yours on me. The decisions are mine to make.”
