Chapter 138
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: Leader of the Weary Ones (1)
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“Hey, have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“About this territory’s young master.”
“Young Master? You mean Lord Lloyd?”
“Yeah, him. Word is, he used some incredible summoning magic.”
“Summoning magic?”
This was the eastern side of Frontera County.
It was the construction site for terraced farmland at the foot of the Eastern Mountains.
A refugee worker hauling dirt there pointed with his chin toward one side.
“You saw that over there, right?”
Where he pointed.
There was Ppodong.
With its 10-meter pudgy bulk.
Shaking its overwhelmingly plump rear.
And digging into the ground energetically from the recoil.
The refugee worker said,
“That giant rat? They say Young Master Lloyd summoned it.”
“Heh, that thing?”
“That’s what they’re saying.”
“Come on, no way.”
“Why not?”
The refugee asked.
His fellow worker replied,
“Think about it, bro. How big and strong is that mouse? Just looking at it, you know it’s an insanely powerful summon, right?”
“Hmm, so?”
“To summon something that massive, the summoning magic has to be just as powerful, right? But Young Master Lloyd? He doesn’t even look thirty yet.”
“You’re saying he’s too young to have mastered that kind of summoning magic?”
“That’s what I think.”
“Then what about that monster?”
“Probably picked up a baby one from the Eastern Mountains and raised it.”
“But your thinking’s a bit off.”
“Why’s that?”
“What monster in the world eats one seed and grows to the size of a house, then shrinks back smaller than a fist?”
“…You been drinking, bro?”
The fellow worker tilted his head.
The refugee worker burst into hearty laughter.
“I saw it myself. Earlier, that young master fed a red seed to the mouse. And get this—it transformed from something smaller than a fist into that massive monster.”
“You saw it yourself? You?”
“Yeah, that’s what happened. Lots of people saw it too—go check with them.”
“Heh. If that’s true…”
“Then that young master is one hell of a guy.”
“Yeah, guess so.”
He commands an incredible summon at will.
And on top of that, he designs and directs massive projects like this.
Rumors of all kinds spread wildly among the refugee workers about such a Lloyd.
That he must have been a genius at summoning magic since birth.
That he could build a whole structure just by closing and opening his eyes.
Or that he was sent down by the heavens that foretold this disaster.
All sorts of speculation, exaggeration, conjecture, and imagination piled on.
It tickled the ears of the refugees delightfully.
Truth be told, it made sense.
Ppodong and Bangul growing huge after eating sunflower seeds.
Hamang swelling up after guzzling massive amounts of water.
Bibong occasionally coming down from the mountains to effortlessly haul heavy loads.
And now even a new fantasy species, Koming.
These were creatures people had never even imagined existing.
They’d never encountered them in any bestiary or tale.
Then, participating as workers on this terraced farmland site, they finally witnessed the majesty of these fantasy species up close.
They frequently spotted Lloyd commanding them freely.
It was impossible not to be amazed.
Admiration was only natural.
Over time, the refugees’ attitudes toward Lloyd grew even more fervent.
Even the middle-aged refugee workers shone with sparkling eyes, like teenage fangirls meeting their favorite idol group.
So what about Lloyd?
He didn’t bother correcting the refugee workers’ misunderstanding(?).
No, in a way, he encouraged it even more.
“That’s the power of image, right? So, Koming?”
“Koming?”
“Shall we fly a bit higher?”
“Koming!”
Flutter! Whoosh!
Koming’s response rang out.
At the same time, its 3-meter wings flapped powerfully on both sides.
A tremendous gust of wind.
The wind picked up.
And the ground suddenly fell away.
No—Koming, carrying him, shot up to 50 meters in the sky in an instant.
“Whew.”
Lloyd gripped Koming’s back feathers tightly.
This must be what riding a roller coaster without safety gear feels like.
Dizzying on one hand, thrilling on the other.
Savoring that speed with his whole body, Lloyd leaned forward.
He surveyed the site spread out below.
“Waaaaah—!”
A thunderous cheer shot up toward him from the site.
The refugee workers hauling dirt were looking up at him.
Lloyd waved to them.
The cheers grew even louder.
A satisfied smile bloomed on his lips.
‘Now those people—and their families who’ll hear from them—will all see me as someone incredibly amazing.’
When in truth, he had jack squat.
He was just using a secret resource called RP. And thanks to reading the novel Iron-Blooded Knight, he could anticipate a few situations a bit ahead.
But people didn’t know that.
They just saw him as amazing.
‘Then I need to reinforce that belief.’
That was the power of image.
A power anyone must have felt a few times in daily life.
The subtle force where the same action draws cheers and awe from some, but ridicule and pity from others.
That was image, Lloyd thought.
He’d felt it skin-deep in Korea, to the point of nausea.
‘Always treated like a total loser.’
He was poor.
No home, no family.
Lived in a cramped goshiwon.
Had only a few worn-out plain tees, rotating through two or three faded ones for a whole year.
To save money, he only went to the cheapest neighborhood barber every three or four months.
That grubby appearance and vibe.
Shoulders hunched as much as his shriveled confidence.
Wherever he went, treatment was the worst.
Even buying triangle kimbap at a convenience store.
Or stopping by a stationery shop for a pen.
Even at the neighborhood barber.
Whether part-timer, employee, or owner, he constantly felt them subtly looking down on and ignoring him.
No, being ignored was still gentlemanly.
‘Got wrongly suspected of being a petty thief once.’
Back then, it hurt so bad he cried.
Now, just a bitter smile.
‘That’s why I need to carefully craft my image. Doesn’t matter if it’s not the truth. People believe what they see more than reality. That belief will become power for me in crucial moments.’
That’s why.
He deliberately flew on Koming.
Frequently patrolling and inspecting the site from the air.
Beyond image management, there were practical benefits too.
“Phew. Circling the site from the air is so damn convenient.”
Koming, grown to 2 meters long after eating a red sunflower seed.
Riding on its back was incredibly comfortable.
Surveying the vast site at a glance had never been easier.
‘This construction site is huge. About the size of the Marez Reclaimed Land.’
Plus, unlike the flat lowland marsh of Marez, this had a key difference.
Steep slopes.
‘If I had to climb up and down those slopes all day to check the site? Ugh, just thinking about it makes me sweat.’
Thanks to Koming, Lloyd avoided calves exploding from the strain.
Of course, for site details, he had to get close.
“Ppodong?”
“Ppodong?”
“This spot dug out today. It’s a bit off-level, isn’t it?”
“Ppododong?”
“Need to dig a little more. And Engineering Corps Squad 16!”
“Yes!”
“From here to there. Once Ppodong levels it, you refine with shovels and compact it. You know the drill?”
“Yes! Of course!”
And so they constructed countless slopes and inclines as planned.
Ppodong dug out the earth with immense power and speed, forming the basic staircase framework.
Then the Engineering Corps moved in to level the surfaces. They refined the dug-out areas and cut faces. Meanwhile, refugee workers hauled Ppodong’s dug-up dirt down to the mountain base.
That massive pile of relocated dirt?
It went to Bibong.
“Bebebeong! Beong!”
The strongest of the fantasy species, Bibong.
But it wasn’t used for slope excavation.
With a body weight of a whopping 3,000 tons.
Too risky—it could cause site collapses.
So Bibong got a different task instead of digging.
Sifting the massive piles of excavated and relocated dirt through a giant sieve.
“Bebeong! Beong!”
Splash!
A colossal sieve—10 meters wide, 15 meters long—lay in Bibong’s hands.
“Bebeong! Beong!”
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Bibong shook the giant sieve.
The dirt piled on top got sifted.
Rocks, small roots, and debris separated out.
Only soil particles 19 millimeters or smaller fell through.
It was selecting fill material for the spaces between the cut slopes, gabion retaining walls, and the voids ahead—backfill soil.
‘This is sneakily crucial. How you backfill determines the wall’s overall stability and drainage.’
Lloyd inspected the backfill soil frequently.
And he deployed Koming too.
“Alright, Koming. You know?”
“Koming?”
“Today, we’re making a big, beautiful net. Let’s go.”
“Koming!”
Koming, fed a red sunflower seed, took flight.
It crisscrossed the air in a dense grid pattern.
Spider silk shot out from the pouch on its back.
Shwaa!
The silk fell along its flight path.
Landing to form a grid net.
Covering the ground without gaps.
Sticking fast to the surface.
At that moment, Lloyd shouted,
“White Lancers, deploy!”
“Uwo!”
The White Lancers, shovels ready, sprang into action.
They shoveled with ferocious speed far beyond regular soldiers.
Scooping and spreading the sifted backfill from Bibong.
The spread backfill covered the spider silk net thickly.
Then they compacted it all at once.
Once compacted, Lloyd shouted again,
“Koming! One more!”
“Kkoming!”
Splash!
Koming sprinkled its grid spider silk net meticulously over the compacted backfill. Covering and adhering.
Then the White Lancers shoveled more backfill on top. Compacted.
The process repeated endlessly.
Koming flying up to spray the net.
White Lancers shoveling backfill to cover and compact.
Then another net.
Thanks to this, the steep cut slope got layered with over ten thicknesses of spider silk net and backfill.
Like stacking ten thick seafood pancakes.
‘Good. It’s going perfectly.’
The spider silk nets neatly embedded between backfill layers.
They bound the entire backfill stickily.
Generating massive friction to hold the soil from sliding forward or settling down.
Lloyd covered the front with gabion retaining walls.
Koming wove a meticulous frame like chain-link fence.
Covering the front face of the piled backfill slope.
Then the Engineering Corps moved.
Dumping prepped large gravel and broken stones into the frame.
“Ready, two, three! Pour!”
“Hrah!”
Rumble! Crash!
Precisely measured stones filled the gabion.
Finally, they wove spider silk through the gabion and entire backfill for firm fixation.
Thus, the first section of retaining wall completed successfully.
‘Good. Just as designed.’
A satisfied smile bloomed on Lloyd’s lips.
The sweat of the Engineering Corps, White Lancers, and refugee workers on site gleamed.
From then on.
The same construction spread across the entire slope.
Excavate, refine, spread, pile, compact, erect.
The steep slope turned into dozens of staircase steps.
Each horizontal tier cradling space for paddies and fields.
The scope widened steadily.
Some days, sleet fell.
Others, unseasonably warm.
One day, big snowflakes.
Another, biting winds.
Yet construction never halted.
It was work for themselves and each other, not others.
Reclaimed land for countless refugees to settle.
Their collective sweat and effort pushed back the cold.
Days passed.
Ten days.
A month, two months flowed by.
Finally, as early spring arrived and the Eastern Mountains bloomed white with magnolias and yellow forsythia.
In the first stride of advancing spring, cheers erupted.
“Last one! Push!”
“Urarrab!”
“Two! Three! Pour!”
“Uracha!”
Gravel and stones poured in.
Filling the spider silk gabion solidly.
The vast terraced reclamation, planned in hundreds, thousands of sections.
The grueling winter-long mega-construction.
Its final section’s wall rose tall at last.
But Lloyd didn’t relax.
Didn’t cheer prematurely.
Didn’t get excited over the completed walls.
Workers could rejoice and buzz at completion.
That was natural human emotion.
But not him.
Even if all drowned in joy.
Even if they cheered and laughed wildly.
He, overseeing and responsible for all, had to stay cool-headed over swept-up feelings.
Only then could he prevent accidents.
“Attention! What’s most important when construction ends?”
“Site cleanup!”
“Accidents happen most at what kind of sites?”
“Uncleaned ones!”
“Got it? Cleanup starts now. Execute!”
“Execute!”
The Engineering Corps had thoroughly internalized Lloyd’s style.
They led the White Lancers and refugees.
Cleaning, organizing, refining the site.
When cleanup finished.
Only then did everyone truly feel the completion.
But even then, Lloyd held back cheers.
‘Not yet. I still have the final step.’
The completed walls now.
The massive terraced farmland they supported.
Lloyd’s eyes held fulfillment and tension.
And the next day.
Dark clouds gathered over the Eastern Mountains.
Drizzle, then finally pouring rain.
Torrents drenched and battered the territory and mountains.
The spring rains, annual visitors this season.
Lloyd’s eyes sharpened.
‘Alright, verification starts now.’
The retaining walls’ biggest challenge.
Stability against drainage and settlement.
The moment to test it in real combat had arrived.