Chapter 71
Chapter 71
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 71
Chapter Title: Behind-the-Scenes Work
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Ian reached out the window. The humid wind was gradually drying out, carrying a sharp chill. The hot, intense summer was fading, and autumn was on the verge of arrival.
Knock knock.
“Master. Are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll bring in your meal.”
After the title conferment document came down from the Imperial Palace, Ian’s position had undoubtedly solidified. His daily life hadn’t changed much from before, but he could feel that power in the small details.
For example, the term of address ‘Master’ from the one who had just called him.
‘Interesting.’
He had been born into a ducal house and risen to the emperor’s throne in his past life, yet now even gaining a viscountcy felt like scaling a massive peak.
Ian sat across from Romandro as the meal was prepared.
“Good morning, Lord Romandro.”
“Ah, Lord Ian. Did you sleep well?”
“Thanks to you. Some lukewarm water, please.”
“Yes, Master.”
While the servants bustled about, Romandro cracked open and ate the gula seeds on a small plate before speaking up.
“And Ian, there’s one thing to settle.”
“What is it?”
“The support funds you brought from the Imperial Palace.”
“Ah.”
An amount equivalent to about 3,000 gold coins. But with territory restoration and gula purchases, they’d already spent quite a bit. And there was even more to come.
“Isn’t it customary for the remaining funds to revert back?”
“That’s true, but it’s just custom, isn’t it?”
It meant Romandro could handle it at his discretion. He was offering to process the ledgers and put it here—specifically, into Ian’s pocket.
Ian raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“If you’re giving it, I’m grateful.”
“No. I thought about it, and this feels right. You’ve done a great service in many ways. If you hadn’t discovered the gula, those 3,000 coins would’ve vanished in one go. I trust you’ll put it to better use.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And thank you for letting me go up north before winter. Hm.”
“Newlywed bliss, was it?”
“Got word recently—she’s pregnant.”
Ian clapped at the unexpected news. The servants carrying dishes overheard and chimed in with congratulations.
“Congratulations, Lord Romandro.”
“You’re going to be a father. Congratulations.”
“When’s the due date?”
“Expected next summer.”
“Wow. Congratulations.”
Romandro fiddled with his beard, grinning bashfully. His face lit up with a smile, making one think that was true happiness.
“Are the support funds and ledger in the study?”
“Yes. I’ll hand them over right after breakfast.”
“Got it.”
Ian nodded, roughly calculating the finances in his head. If his estimates were right, the remaining funds came to about 1,200 gold coins. The investigation team had seized anything of value from the Bratz estate, so that should be all.
“By the way, what about Kakan and Nersarn?”
“They went to the border observation post yesterday and haven’t returned. Something about reading the stars… I don’t know the details.”
Ian immediately grasped their intent. Even the tutor who studied the Great Desert hadn’t wanted to go there. They must have their own scholarly methods of divining the desert through the stars.
“Alright. When they return, tell them I want a brief report.”
“Yes, understood.”
“Lord Ian, a letter from Merelrof. Should I have them wait until you finish eating?”
News was coming in thick and fast this morning. Ian paused while slicing a boiled gula in half. Romandro did the same, mouth agape mid-bite.
“No. Let them in.”
At Ian’s command, the door opened again. A neatly dressed attendant bowed politely.
“Greetings. I bring congratulations on your appointment from Count Merelrof and the Countess.”
“Really? No other messages? The order seems off.”
It meant: We sent a protest over the assassination attempt first, so why pretend it never happened and send congratulations instead?
As the attendant hesitated for a response, Ian held out his hand as if it were no big deal. A luxurious letter was placed atop it.
“Once again, our heartfelt congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“And a gift from the Countess.”
Ian eyed the box behind him suspiciously. Given her eccentric first impression, he couldn’t guess what she might send under the guise of a gift.
But the moment the servant opened the lid.
Ian found himself rising from his seat unbidden.
“It’s a recording device from abroad.”
“Recording device?”
Romandro was the one who asked. Ian simply approached slowly to examine the machine closely.
A small wooden box crammed with intricate gears. Below was space to insert paper, and on the side, a crank handle for operation.
“What is this? What’s it for?”
“Actually, the usage isn’t known, and the name is…….”
Ian muttered unconsciously.
“Dripper.”
“Y-yes, that’s right. You called it a dripper.”
“Oh, Lord Ian. You know this?”
Of course he did.
A dripper was a type of automatic recording device. It marked dots at set intervals when you cranked the handle—a seemingly useless invention that would later become the foundation for automated machinery.
It was one of the major national projects under way right before Ian’s death, researched as a revolutionary technology poised to transform society.
“A-as expected of Lord Ian! So erudite, nothing escapes your knowledge!”
Ian brushed off the overly awkward flattery.
“Lady Merelrof sent this?”
“Y-yes.”
“What did she say when sending it?”
“She said it would surely be helpful to you, it’s valuable, but no need to feel burdened.”
The attendant swallowed hard as he spoke.
In truth, when they’d first pulled it from the warehouse, it was so caked in dust that six people had slaved to clean it. To the Merelrof household, it was nothing but forgotten junk, ignored by all.
‘Did she send this to mess with me?’
Something useless you couldn’t even eat, just endlessly dotting paper at intervals—what was the point?
But seeing Ian’s unusual reaction, something felt off.
“Ha!”
Ian let out a hollow laugh.
…Or not? Was it intentional?
He had no idea, couldn’t even guess. Fearing backlash, the attendant bowed deeply and averted his eyes.
Ian stared dryly at the machine, then paced around it with a subtle sigh.
“Lord Ian, sit down for now. Let’s think it over seated.”
Unable to watch, Romandro stood and soothed him, assuming it was an insulting gift.
Anyone would think so. From Ian’s era, over a century back, the dripper’s design was crude, its function simplistic, and it had zero recognition.
Even the current emperor wouldn’t know its value.
“You know this dripper comes from Rajasan, right?”
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“No. Wait a moment. I need to write a reply to my wife.”
Ian muttered something, then folded his napkin entirely—a signal he was done eating. Romandro glanced bewilderedly between the machine and Ian. They were about to ramp up gula operations with Merelrof, and this provocation and response wasn’t in the plan.
“Wh-what are you going to write?”
“That I received the gift well, it’ll be useful just as she said, and I’d like to meet her sometime.”
Romandro groaned, rubbing his chin. To him, it looked like sharpened barbs flying back and forth, but the reality was far from it.
‘Good heavens. What on earth is going on?’
Ian traced the cracked wooden seams with his fingertips, as if gauging the dripper’s future value.
‘I need to check.’
Whether Lady Merelrof had truly sent a worthless trinket, or if she knew its significance too.
Ian signaled to Hanna.
“Finish up the meal. Keep this secure. No one touches it.”
“Ah, yes. Understood.”
“Lord Romandro. Please continue eating. I’ll write the reply and head out on inspection.”
“Ah, uh. Sure. Go ahead.”
Ian left the dining hall, and soon after, Merelrof’s attendant departed Bratz with the reply. Ian set out on inspection a few hours later.
“Lord Viscount. The weather’s splendid today.”
“Yeah. It’s getting cooler by the day.”
He was checking the gula sprouts shooting up daily. Unlike the falling leaves elsewhere, the territory brimmed with fresh green foliage.
“We plan to harvest gula today.”
“Already?”
“The back field’s Megan started seed sorting yesterday. This side matches the gula and soil so well—it shoots up like crazy. Grows a handspan overnight.”
“That’s great news.”
As the territory’s granaries filled, hunger was vanishing. Smoke rose from chimneys hourly, and children ran about with pockets stuffed full of roasted gula.
“Mister! Mister! The pig’s pregnant, right?”
“Yeah? See? Been grunting since morning.”
Oink oink!
Livestock too. They were fattening up fast and breeding. At this rate, no one would starve or freeze come winter—they’d welcome the new year safe.
“Ah, Lord Kakantir.”
Far off, the Cheonryeo tribesmen returned from their outing. Their kusille slowed to a stop beside Ian.
“Out again today, I see.”
“Perfect timing. I have something to relay.”
“Same here. Shall we walk?”
The two led, while subordinates slowly drove the kusille behind. Berik too, joking with a close warrior as he led the reins.
“I’ll head back to Cheonryeo by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? So sudden.”
“I’m leaving Nersarn behind, so no worries.”
“Trouble in Cheonryeo?”
“No, just the stars say tomorrow’s the right moment.”
Kakantir’s departure would take over half the warriors. But the territory had gained some self-sufficiency, and beyond gula cultivation, no heavy labor was needed, so it should be fine.
“Then I’ll prepare a send-off.”
It was only proper to honor the ally leader’s return. Plus, there was the matter of a parting gift to Cheonryeo.
“What did you want to say?”
“Ah. Earlier, Merelrof’s attendant came to the estate. Time to start behind-the-scenes work, I think.”
“Ah, right.”
The behind-the-scenes work Ian meant was maneuvering Merelrof into a position where they had no choice but to buy gula. Ian halted at Kakantir’s words.
“Merelrof’s only reliable trade is the caravans in winter. Handle those, and it’ll be easy.”
“Hm. The ones from Hawan Kingdom? Never been to the mountains—geographically tricky. Not impossible, though.”
No telling the caravan’s size, but surely plenty of mercenary guards. Brute force wasn’t efficient.
“No. No fighting. Can’t let it get out Cheonryeo’s involved. Might give Merelrof an excuse.”
From Merelrof’s view, responsible for caravan safety, they’d retaliate if threatened by Cheonryeo. A burden for Ian, allied with them.
“Got a plan?”
At Kakantir’s question, Ian smiled and nodded. His eyes sparkled with the usual confidence.