Chapter 198
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 198
Chapter Title: The Sly Fox's Survival Method (1)
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“Why haven’t you become my son-in-law yet?”
“……Pardon?”
The Sultan’s question echoed from his throne like a scorching blaze.
Lloyd nearly jerked his head up in shock at the words.
He had almost committed the grave discourtesy of gazing directly at the Sultan’s face.
He swallowed hard.
‘What the hell.’
That old man.
Way more direct than expected?
The thought bubbled up unbidden.
It was only natural.
He had come to report the successful completion of the qanat.
Thanks to it, the drought in the Kandahar region would be resolved.
Yet the Sultan, upon laying eyes on him, immediately brought up this out of nowhere.
‘What should I even say?’
It was awkward.
How was he supposed to respond to the Sultan’s blunt, no-holds-barred question?
What reaction could elegantly extricate him from this uncomfortable spot?
Lloyd was drowning in worries deeper than roots when—
“Why are you so surprised?”
The Sultan’s amused chuckle rang out.
“Arkos Frontera’s son, Lloyd Frontera. When I see a talent like yours, and learn that such a genius remains unmarried, what ruler in the world wouldn’t covet you?”
“Ah, that’s……”
“I merely voiced my heartfelt wish for a moment. So, I suppose my daughter didn’t catch your fancy.”
“You knew I’d noticed?”
“I heard the full story from her.”
“……”
Lloyd shut his mouth.
Serazad must have already met with the Sultan.
The moment she returned to Ahinsha, she’d probably reported everything.
‘She didn’t badmouth me in some weird way, did she?’
Lloyd kept silent, a touch uneasy.
The Sultan continued.
“The matters between man and woman— no matter how much I desire it, if the parties involved feel differently, there’s nothing to be done. It was just a wistful remark, so don’t take it to heart.”
“Your benevolence humbles me.”
“Find that benevolence with your liege lord.”
“……”
This feels like I’m getting scolded or something.
Fortunately(?), the Sultan didn’t dwell on the topic.
“Very well, now let’s hear the more important matter. The qanat is complete?”
“Indeed, O great and almighty Sultan.”
Lloyd, desperate for a change of subject, answered swiftly.
“After four months of construction, we’ve successfully channeled water from the mountain foothills. This was the humble servant’s effort to honor the contract with the great and almighty Sultan. Moreover, it now supplies water to Kandara City and most villages in the Kandahar region. This too was the humble servant’s effort to honor the contract with the great and almighty Sultan.”
“……Thanks to your efforts?”
“It was merely the effort to uphold the promise with the great and almighty Sultan.”
“That sounds like you’re earnestly reminding me to keep my promise as well.”
“How dare this humble servant utter such insolence.”
“You’re uttering it right now.”
“Absolutely not. The great and almighty Sultan is a great and almighty sovereign, so I have no doubt you’ll effortlessly honor a mere promise with this unworthy servant. Why would I need to utter such nonsense?”
“……So, you’re telling me to sit at the negotiation table with Magentano’s envoy?”
“Your benevolence humbles me.”
“Tch.”
Sultan Samarqand clicked his tongue.
What a capable and brazen fellow.
Yet one couldn’t help but like him for it.
No, it only made him more desirable.
‘If only he’d truly become my son-in-law.’
If he did?
He’d gladly make him his right-hand man.
He wanted to draw out every drop of that talent without waste.
He wanted to reshape the future of this Sultanate.
‘Alicia Termina Magentano. Why doesn’t that fool of a woman make better use of such a talent?’
If not, give him to me.
Such thoughts were inevitable.
It was that regrettable, that enticing.
The resolution of the Kandahar drought was the same.
He’d already received detailed reports from Serazad and the retinue who’d worked with Lloyd.
‘He secured the rebels’ cooperation. And after succeeding, he even sent them beyond my reach.’
He’d nearly applauded upon hearing it.
It was that flawless.
For Lloyd Frontera and his rebel allies, for the people of Kandahar freed from drought, and for himself as ruler.
It ensured maximum gain for everyone involved.
The Sultan admired that about Lloyd.
‘It’s not just skill at work. Not just book smarts. He’s leagues above those who’ve only studied from desks.’
It was a way of navigating the world that bookish scholars couldn’t achieve.
The survival tactic of one forged in harsh tempests.
A deep longing flickered in the Sultan’s eyes as he gazed at Lloyd.
But it faded quickly.
The Sultan regained his stern demeanor.
Revealing the dignity befitting a desert ruler, he spoke.
“Very well. The pact between you and I is clear and binding. You upheld your end first, so now it’s my turn. I declare here and now: tomorrow, I shall meet with Magentano’s envoy at the negotiation table.”
“Your benevolence humbles me.”
“I told you not to seek it here.”
The Sultan chuckled and dismissed Lloyd.
After Lloyd withdrew.
The Sultan’s gaze lingered on the empty spot where he’d stood.
“……”
Regrettable.
Too valuable to let slip away so easily.
So, one more time.
‘Shall I try?’
The Sultan nodded slowly.
Resolve gleamed in the desert ruler’s eyes.
♣
The next day.
The Sultan’s promise came true.
The negotiation table was indeed set.
Envoy Count Ventura entered the palace with a tense expression.
The Sultan’s palace was unusually quiet and serene that day.
Solemn by nature, but today’s atmosphere felt distinctly different.
Everyone held their breath, awaiting the outcome.
The Sultan and the envoy.
Only those two inside the negotiation chamber.
All ears strained toward the door and its revelations.
The envoy’s retinue.
The Sultanate’s officials.
Even Ahinsha’s citizens.
All shared the same anticipation.
Well, except for one.
“Aren’t you worried about Lord Lloyd?”
“Nah.”
Lloyd nodded as if it were the most obvious thing.
He took a hard suck on the straw in his mouth.
Slurrrp!
The juice from a local palm tree, unique to the Ahinsha region, flowed coolly through the silver straw.
Sweet and tangy.
Salty yet refreshing.
Cool and zingy.
“Ahh.”
A sigh of delight escaped naturally.
Worthy of a fruit valued at a gold ring per jug.
The finest delicacy, even rationed among noble emirs.
‘If I had to compare, hmm, like cola straight from a freshly opened bottle.’
Who’d have thought he’d taste something cola-like in this world.
Lloyd gazed at the local palm fruit with moved reverence.
Then smacked his lips in regret.
“Why worry about that negotiation? Better to guzzle this while we can before heading home, right?”
“No.”
Haviel furrowed his brow in disdain.
“It’s a pivotal national matter hanging in the balance. Failure could spark war. Shouldn’t you be concerned?”
“What’s worrying gonna do?”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a negotiation I can’t even join anyway. And the outcome’s already set, so.”
“The outcome’s set?”
Haviel tilted his head.
Lloyd grinned.
“It’ll go smoothly. No other way.”
“How can you be sure?”
“The Sultan has no reason to start a war anymore.”
Fact.
The drought centered on Kandahar.
The Sultan had worried over mass public discontent.
To divert domestic opinion, even briefly, he’d chosen deliberate conflict with the Magentano royals.
But now?
Everything had changed.
“I fixed the drought, didn’t I? Sure, it’s not entirely up to him going forward, but the immediate risk of massive unrest is basically gone. No reason for the Sultan to push diplomatic strife or war.”
“Then……”
“He’ll probably admit responsibility for the monster domino crisis.”
Lloyd said.
Haviel raised one eyebrow.
“Then one more question?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
“If the conclusion’s so clear-cut, why drag the talks half a day already?”
“Simple.”
Lloyd’s smile deepened.
“They’re haggling details. How far the admission goes, compensation amounts, that sort. Plus, ending too quick looks bad for them.”
“Looks bad how?”
“The Sultan’s image. Wrap it up fast, and it seems like he folded completely on this issue—GG, or early surrender. So inside, they’ve probably settled everything and are just sipping tea. The longer it drags publicly, the better for his face.”
“I see.”
“Yeah. So let’s focus on this.”
Lloyd held up the local palm fruit.
“Super expensive. All on the great and almighty Sultan’s tab. And back in Frontera Territory? You won’t get this taste no matter what. Even shipping crates won’t match fresh here.”
“……”
“What? Come on, dig in?”
“……”
Lloyd thrust a palm fruit forward.
Haviel took it with a deep sigh.
Watching Lloyd inhale the palm sap like a possessed man deepened the sigh.
The young master he served.
Smart, yes.
But sometimes, honestly, so materialistic it’s embarrassing.
Haviel asked grudgingly.
“Can’t we just have a normal meal instead?”
“Huh?”
“It’s mealtime.”
“That’s why I ordered this.”
“……”
“No regular food today. I canceled it all and had them bring tons of this.”
“Why?”
“Told you. Only available here. Insanely pricey?”
“……Sigh, really.”
He couldn’t not sigh.
Finally, Haviel said in resignation.
“Fine, just one. Can’t skip meals.”
Stomach rumbling.
Mealtime.
Not thrilled, but to fill the belly at least.
Just a taste, out of courtesy.
He picked up the palm fruit.
Brought the straw to his lips.
Sucked.
One gulp.
Two gulps.
Three gulps.
Sucked away, slurped, kept sucking.
Lost in it, the fruit emptied.
“One-shot?”
“……”
Lloyd snickered at him.
Only then did Haviel snap out of it.
But too late.
“Another?”
“……”
“Don’t want? I’ll take it b……”
“Hand it over.”
Snap.
The true protagonist of the novel Iron-Blooded Knight, peerless hero Haviel Asrahan.
Even he was just a twenty-something youth helpless before cola-flavored palm sap for the first time.
♣
The Sultan and envoy’s talks ended at dusk.
“Done. We pulled it off.”
Envoy Count Ventura burst into the guesthouse, flushed with excitement.
The waiting retinue jumped to their feet.
“How’d it go?”
“That smile—don’t tell me……”
“Exactly.”
Count Ventura beamed at them all.
“The Sultan accepted our demands. Every single one.”
“All of them?”
“Really?”
“Hahaha, have you all lived skeptically? Just as I said. Total success. He fully owned the monster domino incident. Accepted our full compensation terms too. Even volunteered on points we didn’t demand.”
“Points we didn’t demand?”
The retinue perked up.
Lloyd, patting his bloated belly full of palm sap in the corner, did too.
‘Extra concessions? From the Sultan?’
Odd.
Admit fault, pay up, done.
Yet he gave more unasked?
‘Why?’
Curiosity piqued.
Lloyd’s ears perked sharper.
Count Ventura continued joyfully.
“Hohoho. Don’t doubt what comes next. The Sultan signed a non-recurrence pact for future monster domino crises. Know what that means? He personally humbled his international prestige to offer us a heartfelt apology.”
“Oh, oooh!”
“Is that true?!”
The triumphant announcement.
Retinue fired up beyond expectations.
Probably why.
Lloyd, watching from the side, suddenly felt the well-enjoyed palm sap sour in his gut.
‘Non-recurrence pact? That old fox? Gave that away? Wait. No way. Don’t tell me?’
A chill premonition slithered up his spine.
That instant.
Lloyd shot to his feet.
No time for anyone to stop him, he bolted to his quarters.
Packed his midnight getaway bag at light speed.