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chapter 53
Western Territory (3)
“Prince Joseph… what kind of person is he? Someone I could handle easily?”
Ian picked up a small stone and tossed it into the valley as he asked.
In his mind, the image of Prince Joseph was of a small figure, hiding in a villa out of fear of royal conflicts. Unconsciously, this had led him to underestimate the prince.
“Handle him easily? My lord, if you meet Prince Joseph thinking that way, you could find yourself in a very difficult situation. He is fierce and ruthless beyond words.”
“What?”
Ian picked up another stone to toss into the valley, but he paused and stared at Jalang.
“Fierce and ruthless?”
“He is a man in whose blood flows a heat and madness like molten lava. From a young age, he traveled the battlefield, never cooling that fire. Had he not done so, he would have gone mad and taken his own life. He entered enemy territory in Crotia alone, massacred border soldiers, and beheaded six powerful Crotian commanders using force swords—though few know this story. The number of enemies who have died at his hands is incalculable.”
Jalang spoke more than usual to Ian, emphasizing the terror of Prince Joseph. It was as if he were describing not a human but a monster.
“Weren’t the scholars saying anything like this?”
“They don’t know. Prince Joseph hid his identity and joined battles incognito. These are stories not widely known.”
“Wow… I almost went there completely unaware and would have been in big trouble.”
Ian let out a bitter laugh and tossed the small stone into the valley. Judging people based only on outward appearances was indeed foolish.
Reflecting on this, Ian said to Jalang:
“He has madness in him, but if he’s that strong, wouldn’t he have ambitions for the throne?”
“Being a king of a nation isn’t determined by individual combat skills alone. Without the support of many factions, he could not rule such a vast land.”
“True, I suppose.”
Ian nodded.
“If Prince Joseph blocks access to the waters of Lake Mountain, it could become troublesome, right?”
“Isn’t that precisely what your lordship’s ability is for?”
“Don’t pressure me. You’ve described Prince Joseph like a bloodthirsty monster and now expect me to do something about it?”
Ian frowned and muttered to himself.
‘Of all places, why did he have to come to my territory and settle here?’
Hearing about Prince Joseph’s true nature from Jalang made Ian’s initially casual attitude vanish instantly. At the same time, his curiosity about the prince, who had such a unique history hidden beneath the surface, grew. He wanted to meet him soon.
“Rondo! Bring the alcohol!”
Rondo, who had been some distance away, quickly brought over a bottle and two cups.
“It’s the first day outside the castle. Can’t just pass the time boringly.”
Jalang quietly looked at the cup the lord offered before slowly accepting it.
“You must be tired from the unfamiliar horse ride. May I offer you some drink?”
“Don’t worry. The only one tired here is Nekamo, ha ha ha!”
Laughing out loud, Ian took off his shoes and dipped his feet into the valley water. The cold water gently wrapped around his feet.
“Commander, I don’t have big ambitions. I just want the territory to run peacefully, to dip my feet in water, look at the moon and stars, and sip a drink. Maybe someday meet a woman I like and marry her.”
Jalang silently raised his cup.
“But it won’t be that easy, right? That’s my hunch. Damn it.”
Ian lay back in the valley water and stared up at the night sky. His carefree behavior showed no signs of lordly dignity—but strangely, that made him more appealing.
Jalang emptied his cup and stood.
“Sleep early.”
“Alright. Thank you for your efforts, commander.”
The closer Ian moved to the central part of the western region, the hotter and dustier it became.
The field grass had yellowed and died, and the crops in the paddies and fields were barely surviving.
The western territory they had passed through yesterday was better in comparison; the rivers still had water, and the mountains and fields maintained their color.
‘Denjuron Village should be nearby,’ Ian thought.
By coincidence, the shortcut to Lake Mountain passed near Denjuron Village, which was situated around a reservoir.
Ian crossed a bridge supported by stone pillars and looked down.
The river was gone; only the bleached bones of dead fish lay exposed on the dry bottom—a pitiful sight.
‘Why is the western territory suffering so badly from drought?’
As the master of this land, Ian resented the sky. He wished for rain clouds to appear and wet the parched earth.
‘Raising taxes in this situation… no wonder my reputation is suffering.’
Even the soldiers’ faces reflected the severe drought.
After crossing the bridge, Ian spurred the horse onward. Dust clouds trailed behind the passing horses.
Baking under the scorching sun, Ian eventually noticed a particularly lush area.
Slowing his horse, he pointed to the left and asked the commander:
“What’s that place?”
“That should be the reservoir of Hadil Village.”
Even from afar, the area around the reservoir looked full of life.
“They must be sharing the water between the two villages, right?”
When leaving the castle, he had instructed that Denjuron and Hadil share the reservoir water. This would give Denjuron time to withstand while water was drawn from Lake Mountain.
“They should have received the official notice from the castle by now.”
“Of course.”
As Ian conversed with the commander on horseback, the column drew closer to the reservoir.
Through the dense trees surrounding it, Ian noticed a large gathering of people.
“Commander, doesn’t the atmosphere seem a bit off?”
With his keen eyesight, Ian saw the people split into two groups, facing each other like they were about to fight.
“Seems there’s a problem.”
“Is this over water?”
“I’ll go check.”
When the commander tried to take some soldiers forward, Ian gestured:
“No. We’ll go together.”
The dozens of horses running along the reservoir side shifted in unison, heading straight for the water.
“Raise the lord’s banner!”
Following the commander’s orders, the front horseman lifted the banner high.
At that moment, the grand flag representing the Alberne family fluttered in the wind.
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.
The sight and sound of cavalry advancing over the dry ground intimidated the villagers, forcing them to step back.
Hee-hee-hee!
Soldiers climbed the reservoir hill in an instant, moving between the two groups of villagers.
“Step back!”
The soldiers, threatening with their battle horses, pushed the two groups apart.
“Lower your weapons!”
“Those who resist will be cut down!”
“Bow your heads! The lord commands it!”
The troops were elite, guarding the lord heading to Lake Mountain.
Though hundreds of villagers from Denjuron and Hadil had gathered, they could not withstand the intimidating presence of the cavalry.
Moreover, the opposing force was the lord of the territory.
One by one, the villagers laid down their swords, axes, and bows.
Once the chaos subsided, Ian slowly rode up the hill.
Glancing at the villagers split by the cavalry, he turned his gaze to the reservoir.
Due to the drought, the water level seemed low, filling only about halfway.
The water appeared clear. Normally stagnant water deteriorates in quality, but one side of the reservoir flowed slightly toward Hadil Village, keeping it fresh. Groundwater seemed to rise from beneath, acting like a giant well.
“Is the village chief here?”
Ian shifted his attention from the reservoir to the villagers, all bowing their heads.
From both sides, a middle-aged man stepped forward.
“Come closer.”
The cavalry opened a path, and the chiefs stood before Ian on horseback, tense.
“I’m Tinto, chief of Hadil Village. It’s an honor to meet you, lord.”
“I’m Dienong, chief of Denjuron Village.”
The chief of Hadil was tall with a long face and sharp eyes. In contrast, the chief of Denjuron was shorter with a plump, gentle appearance. Their differing appearances were stark, and they both wore armor as if preparing for battle.
‘So, they’re actually fighting each other?’
Ian silently looked down at them, speaking in a low voice:
“Raise your heads.”
The chiefs slowly looked up, meeting the cold, icy gaze of the lord atop the white horse.
Though he had recently regained his health, none expected him to ride all the way to the western territory.
“Was this fight really about the reservoir?”
“…Yes, my lord.”
The chiefs answered in small voices, wary of each other.
“Didn’t you receive the official notice from the castle?”
“We did, my lord.”
“Then why fight? I instructed that the reservoir water be shared.”
Hearing this, the chief of Denjuron glared angrily at the chief of Hadil, pointing a finger:
“My lord! That man is defying your orders! Despite your instructions, our village has been blocked from using the reservoir!”
“Is that true?”
Ian turned to the chief of Hadil, who looked troubled.
“My lord, we did not block access arbitrarily. We only asked that any use of the reservoir by others be accompanied by a fair contribution, given the effort we put into maintaining it.”
“Absurd. This reservoir has existed long before. It belongs to no one. If you look at the village boundaries, it is closer to our village.”
“No, my lord. The water from the reservoir flows through the sluice to Hadil. Who has maintained it all this time? They neglected its care, and now, faced with drought, they make brazen claims.”
“The chief of Hadil is lying as if the entire village uses the reservoir. In reality, the water is used only for the crops and livestock of the chief. In these hard times, prioritizing his own greed while ignoring the neighboring village’s difficulties is unacceptable.”
The chief of Hadil calmly replied to Denjuron’s sharp accusation:
“Using the reservoir appropriately for necessary purposes is not wrong. I have reduced usage because the drought seems to be prolonged, for the sake of Hadil’s entire population. That is why our villagers are assisting me in protecting it, not for greed.”
“They only assist out of fear of the drought! They want to secure as much water as possible! Meanwhile, we lack even well water!”
“Enough.”
Ian had silently listened to the two chiefs’ argument. Raising his hand quietly, he stopped their words.
