Chapter 156
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 156
Chapter Title: The One Who Takes Responsibility (2)
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[Haviel Asrahan has come to feel a small sense of respect for the new side of you he discovered today.]
[Haviel Asrahan has received a fresh shock from your thoughts and ambitions.]
[Haviel Asrahan has begun to look at you in a new light.]
[Haviel Asrahan's favorability toward you has increased by +15.]
[Current relationship with Haviel Asrahan: +23]
[You have acquired 270 RP due to a significant improvement in relationship with a key figure.]
[Current RP held: 3,140]
[Haviel Asrahan's intimacy level with you has risen one stage from [Casual Interest] to [Casual Favor].]
[You have acquired an additional 100 RP as a bonus for the intimacy level increase.]
[Current RP held: 3,240]
‘Whoa.’
Lloyd quickly read the messages popping up before his eyes.
As he read, a smile naturally crept onto his face.
With slightly sly eyes, he looked at the back of Haviel's head in the front seat, round like a chestnut burr.
“You little punk, feeling good, huh?”
“……What are you suddenly talking about?”
“I’m asking if you were touched by what this big bro said.”
“Don’t get your hopes up. Absolutely not. Not in the slightest. No way in hell.”
Was it an illusion that the guy’s head-shaking seemed more exaggerated today? Or was the sturdiness seeming stronger than usual just his imagination?
The guy’s curt retort continued.
“No need to be touched. To be moved by the excuses of someone who forgets their own position and importance and recklessly dives into danger. Besides, I’m not brothers with Lord Lloyd.”
“Why not? You’re five years younger than me.”
“I’m young. And spry, too.”
“Hey. In five years, you’ll be my age.”
“By then, Lord Lloyd will be that much older.”
“……Cough.”
“Anyway, I have no intention of treating Lord Lloyd like a brother based solely on physical age differences. Put those vain expectations to rest early.”
“Drawing a line, are we?”
“We were never close to begin with.”
The guy’s voice remained as cold as ever.
Listening to it made Lloyd chuckle involuntarily.
He couldn’t help but point it out.
“But you say that, yet your actions tell a different story?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re holding onto my sleeve with one hand right now?”
“…….”
“You’ve been doing it since earlier. Ever since I first rode on Komming’s back.”
“…….”
“No way—you’re holding it so I don’t fall off?”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Imagining what?”
“I’d like to grab you by the collar for the mess you caused today, but my hands won’t reach that far.”
“Aha. So you’re gripping my sleeve tight instead?”
“…….”
“Well, yeah. Gotta admit I’m a bit precious and respectable now.”
“…….”
“Aww. Good boy, our Haviel.”
“Shall I shove you off cleanly?”
“For real? You mean it?”
“At this height, it should be enough to send you off neatly. Considering how cockroach-tough your lifeline is.”
“Sounds like you’re half-serious?”
“Of course.”
“…….”
Even amid the barrage of curses, the guy never let go of Lloyd’s sleeve to the end.
As if worried Lloyd might fall off at any moment.
Thanks to that, Lloyd could safely survey the area below.
The gorge unfolding beneath Komming’s wingbeats.
It was completely collapsing.
Tons—hundreds of thousands of tons, at least—of earth and rocks were pouring into the gorge. Amid that overwhelming disaster, intermittent explosions erupted.
Undead Mastodons crushed and pulverized by the earth and rocks.
It was their final death throes—corpse explosions.
Those blasts triggered secondary and tertiary landslides in succession.
‘At that scale, nothing’s getting out unscathed.’
Perfect annihilation.
Or burial.
He circled the gorge airspace several more times.
He observed meticulously, in case any survivors remained.
Fortunately, not a single Undead Mastodon was visible.
Haviel in the front seat spoke up.
“I overheard the workers evacuating earlier—they said those Undead Mastodons came from underground?”
“Yeah.”
Lloyd recalled the earlier events.
The pit they’d been digging to build the sludge processing facility.
The countless Mastodon corpses buried in that ground.
“They weren’t just dumped haphazardly. They were neatly buried.”
“Probably the work of the necromancer who made them.”
“Likely.”
Lloyd nodded.
“Who could it be? Any guesses?”
“No, none at all.”
Haviel continued.
“No one specific comes to mind. Necromancers are rare to begin with.”
“Hmm, could it be connected to that guy we dealt with before?”
“The black mage who kidnapped our soldiers from the Eastern Mountains?”
“Yeah. Back when we were building the Stone Ice Storage for the orc village. Remember?”
“Of course.”
Haviel nodded.
“It could be the act of a necromancer linked to him. But it’s too soon to conclude that…”
“Yeah, I know. Jumping to conclusions.”
“Yes, that’s my thought too.”
Lloyd looked down at the collapsed gorge with complicated eyes.
He had no clue.
Who made the Undead Mastodons.
Why bury them near the territory.
‘Was it just storage, and I dug them up? Or were they plotting something against our territory? No clues even to speculate.’
Even reviewing the novel Iron-Blooded Knight, it was the same.
Hundreds of Undead Mastodons buried in the wasteland north of Frontera Territory.
This hadn’t happened in the novel.
Naturally.
In the novel, no monster domino effect hit Frontera Territory. The Mastodon herd from the plains beyond the Eastern Mountains never came here.
‘Tch. But I can’t just ignore this.’
It felt like worries were piling up.
If the necromancer had simply buried the Undead Mastodons for storage?
Then Lloyd had dug them up(?) and wrecked them.
The necromancer might demand compensation.
Or harbor a grudge.
If they’d buried them from the start to harm the territory?
That would be an even bigger headache.
Either way.
Considering everything.
It looked like future troubles brewing.
“Tch.”
But right now, there was plenty to do.
He had to clean up today’s mess first.
The great waterway construction had to continue.
Clues about the unknown necromancer would have to be sought diligently in the process.
So, priorities first.
“Let’s go. That way.”
First, check on Bibung, who’d passed out blocking the initial explosion.
With that thought, Lloyd pointed east.
Komming’s wingbeats quickened.
♣
Fortunately, Bibung was fine.
Thanks to his massive frame and matching toughness.
Even taking a corpse explosion point-blank.
Just some singed fur and mild concussion.
“So, Bangul?”
“Bangul?”
“You take care of Bibung. That’d be great.”
“Ppa-bangul? Bangul?”
“Oh, you think Hamang would be better at nursing? Fill a bucket with water, pour it over—wash the singed fur and help him snap out of it?”
“Bangul! Ppa-bangul!”
“Hmm, but I think differently.”
“Bang-wooul?”
“Bibung’s not hurt that bad anyway.”
“Bangul?”
“Better than pouring water—you just being by his side would comfort him way more.”
“Ppa-bangul? Bangul? Bangul?”
“Really. Trust me. You’ve got that ability in spades.”
“Bang-wooul?”
Bangul tilted his head to the end.
Lloyd patted the guy’s head and placed him by Bibung’s side.
And Lloyd’s prediction(?) hit the mark.
“Bibung! Bi-be-bung! Bibung!”
As soon as Bibung came to and saw Bangul beside him, he threw a fit.
That he was fine.
That explosion was nothing.
Singed fur? Just apply some spit, good as new.
Concussion? Same deal.
Never happened anyway.
Just a bit drowsy, dozed off.
He sprang up, plastering on a sturdy expression.
Thanks to that, he got an earful from Bangul.
“Bangul! Ppa-bangul!”
As if such a thing existed.
Patients need to lie down and rest.
Or he’d quit nursing.
At that, Bibung flopped back down at light speed, of course.
“Bi-be-bung!”
Bibung’s upturned mouth corners, ears perked.
Looked like no need to worry about the guy.
After that, Lloyd stayed busy.
He carefully recovered the remains of the six fallen White Lancers.
He spent days cleaning the accident site.
The pit where the Undead Mastodons were found.
And the gorge where the collapse happened.
He meticulously sorted and searched the incident sites. To find any possible clues left by the necromancer.
But days passed with no real clues found.
“Don’t get too impatient. I’m just grateful—relieved—you came back safe.”
Clack.
A proper dinner after days?
Lloyd stared blankly at the plate the Countess set before him.
Then he spoke.
“This seems a bit different from what you said earlier.”
“Different how?”
“You grabbed me, saying even if busy, eat something quick before you go.”
“I did.”
“So I came here to grab a quick bite, just like you said?”
“I did.”
“But what’s this mountain of food piled so high it tops the Eastern Mountains’ highest peak?”
“Hmm, not enough?”
“No. Worried my stomach’ll burst if I eat it all.”
“No need to worry. Plenty more where that came from.”
“…….”
Answer’s set, so shut up and eat.
Might as well say it outright—would be less stressful.
Lloyd gazed at his plate in dismay.
First, the plate was enormous.
Diameter at least 50 cm.
More like a round tray than a plate.
That mega-plate was packed to the brim with all sorts of food.
Like a first-timer at a buffet.
Or a mukbang YouTuber’s serious spread.
Salad, sausage, eggs, steak, pickled meat, bread, sauced noodles, mashed potatoes, buttered goose, fragrant steamed salmon, cream-slathered corn, breaded fried chicken.
And more, filling the plate like troops marching five and a half laps around the parade ground.
“……I don’t think I can finish all this.”
“It’s fine. Eat slowly, over time.”
“Uh, hmm, that’ll take ten days at least.”
Tricky.
Backlog of work.
Had to finish site cleanup before sunset.
Check tomorrow’s sections in advance.
Exhausted, wanted to crash—but work was work.
Yet the Countess, who knew his busyness, was extra stubborn today.
“I know. You’re busy. Want to rush back to the site.”
“Hmm, then let me just eat one sausage and…”
“If not like this, when would I see your face so relaxed?”
“…….”
“You don’t say it, but your father’s worried too. Says you’re overdoing it. Trying to shoulder everything alone.”
“…….”
“So. Listen to your mother sometimes. Eat your fill for a day, rest up. Give yourself—and those who follow you—a break.”
“…….”
It sank quietly into his chest.
No—actually, the Countess had approached, extending her hand.
She wrapped both his hands tightly.
With worry-filled voice.
Like patting his back.
Soothing his weary heart.
Gently urging.
“So, sit down.”
“……Yes.”
Why did middle school suddenly come to mind?
Some evening before the weekend, mom telling him—heading to academy—to eat first.
What had he said then?
Too busy, no need.
‘Wasn’t even going to the academy.’
Ditching with friends for PC bang.
To not be late for that promise.
Ignored mom and left.
Later found the bill in his coat pocket.
So he wouldn’t starve out there, don’t go hungry—mom’s secret crumpled 10,000 won note.
“…….”
Should’ve listened then.
Why did the Countess’s face keep overlapping with mom’s expression from back then?
Eyes too alike?
Or just missing those days?
Lloyd wrinkled his nose and sat at the table.
Slowly chewed the heaping plate of food.
Just ate silently.
Recalling mom’s uneaten meal from long ago.
Chewing regrets and apologies meticulously, carefully.
No tears fell.
No choking up, no holding back.
Yet strangely.
The food tasted saltier than usual. Just a bit.