Chapter 60
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: The Devil's Contract (5)
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The viscount finished signing.
The signature was swift.
He wielded the pen with a single, fluid stroke, as if there was no need for a second thought.
From the viscount's position, it made sense.
His last shred of hope had crumbled.
“Sir Kurono, was it? Just watching him sneak peeks instead of stopping his knight from spilling the truth in the audience chamber says it all. He was way too obvious.”
On the road back to the barony from the viscount's territory.
Lloyd spoke from the rear saddle.
Haviel, up front, nodded.
“That’s how it looked to me too.”
It definitely had been.
Sir Kurono bursting into the audience chamber.
They hadn’t had time to stop the initial charge.
But after that, the viscount could have reined him in easily.
A shout, a quiet reprimand—any number of ways to control his senior knight.
But the viscount hadn’t.
“He was probably hoping his knight would stir up some variable. That was his final lifeline. And you cut it.”
“As expected.”
“Yeah. So, how’s it feel to earn a new title?”
“A new title?”
“Piss-Pants Maker.”
“……”
“Spot on, right? You swing your sword—slash—and Sir Kurono’s blade snaps. Then—oh no—and he wets himself. Right?”
“……”
“Anyway, thanks to that black mark, Sir Kurono won’t be able to show his face for a while. He’ll be kicking off the covers every night. If it were me, I’d pack up tonight and move to another territory. Hell, maybe hop continents where no one knows me. You did great, though. Cool as hell.”
“I merely stopped a coward from stabbing someone in the back.”
“Indeed! The one and only Piss-Pants Maker.”
“……”
“What? Don’t like it?”
“No need to even answer that.”
“So I should take that as you secretly loving it?”
“Absolutely not. I hate it.”
Snap, crack!
Haviel yanked hard on the innocent reins.
A mischievous smile crept across Lloyd’s lips.
“Anyway, your sword skills are about to spread far and wide.”
It was true.
Haviel had sliced through Sir Kurono’s sword.
Cutting one sword with another.
It was no easy feat.
Even slamming it down on an anvil on purpose might not guarantee it.
And who was Sir Kurono?
A senior knight of the viscount’s territory.
He had a solid reputation for his skills.
“Rumor has it Sir Kurono’s around mid Sword Expert level. What’s it like clashing blades with him?”
“He was even better than the rumors. Definitely a mid Sword Expert’s sword.”
“And you bisected it.”
“So it seems.”
“Yeah. Word’s gonna spread through the viscount’s lands and the whole region.”
“What kind of word?”
“Something like: Haviel Asrahan, the youngest knight of the backwater eastern Frontera Barony, defeats a mid Sword Expert knight from the neighboring territory with one strike.”
“They’ll probably tack on ‘high Sword Expert.’”
“Likely.”
That’s how it would go.
Slicing an opponent’s sword.
It required at least one full level of superiority.
Which meant the Frontera Barony would now be known as a territory with a high Sword Expert knight.
“There’ll be pros and cons, thanks to you.”
“Pros and cons?”
“First off, fewer people will underestimate our territory. It’s like we’ve got a deadly weapon now.”
“Then what’s the con?”
“You.”
“……Pardon?”
“They’ll all be gunning for you.”
“Gunning for me? Who?”
“Who else? The lords around us, merchants, and so on.”
“You mean they’ll try to recruit me?”
“Obviously.”
Lloyd nodded.
“Think about it. High Sword Expert. And he’s just barely twenty, fresh out of boyhood? If you were a hotshot lord or merchant, what would you think?”
“……I’d want him as a retainer.”
“Right?”
“Yes.”
“Exactly. They’ll try to make you their right-hand man. Pour money into training you. Why? You’re only twenty. Invest properly for ten years, and boom—a Swordmaster in his early thirties.”
A Swordmaster in his thirties.
Incredible.
Most Swordmasters were over forty.
‘Like having a twenty-year-old Guan Yu, Zhao Yun, Michael Jordan, Ronaldo, or Messi on your team.’
If they secured him?
He could serve two generations—current and future.
Other lords.
Powerful merchants.
Maybe even the king.
No way they’d let that juicy prize slip by.
“We might have to weather a storm.”
Lloyd glanced at Haviel up front.
Only his back visible.
No reading his expression.
But Lloyd could sense it.
“A storm? Doesn’t matter. I have no intention of serving another lord.”
Yeah, that’s Haviel.
Just like in the original novel, Iron-Blooded Knight.
Unshaken by any temptation.
Even when the baron was crumbling in the story.
A territory on the brink of ruin—he could’ve ditched it anytime.
Served a more powerful, promising lord for an easier path.
But Haviel didn’t.
Until the baron’s death.
Even after.
Never served another.
Even after reaching Swordmaster.
Turned down dukes, kings, emperors.
With that badass line: his lifelong lord was solely Baron Frontera.
‘What a guy.’
Not easy to live like that.
Realistically, impossible.
Yet Haviel, sitting right there, had stubbornly upheld it his whole life.
‘So no worries about him jumping ship.’
But the recruitment war for Haviel.
They’d need to protect the barony from the fallout.
Lloyd mentally added it to his plans, then chuckled.
Another knight loyal to Baron Frontera from Iron-Blooded Knight popped into his head.
“By the way, has Sir Bayern said anything to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, about how you’ve been blasting away during construction.”
“Oh.”
Haviel nodded, getting it.
“He did comment when he saw my blasting.”
“What’d he say?”
“‘Impressive.’”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing like wanting to learn it himself, or test your skills?”
“He did say he was jealous once. That’s all.”
“Classic Sir Bayern.”
Just like the novel.
Lloyd recalled the descriptions.
‘Talent’s average, but honest, fair, no greed—a straightforward guy.’
True to that, no jealousy even though young Haviel had surpassed him.
If anything, he seemed pleased.
‘He sees Haviel’s growth as a boon to the territory.’
Puts the land’s progress over personal rivalry.
Good call putting him in charge of the engineering corps.
At the same time, thought it might be time to boost(?) Sir Bayern’s skills.
“By the way.”
“Hm?”
“Why’d you do that earlier?”
Haviel’s sharp question pierced Lloyd’s thoughts.
Lloyd tilted his head.
“Earlier? What?”
“The duel challenge from Sir Kurono.”
Haviel’s voice had a prickly edge.
Like pointing out a mistake.
“You were a bit reckless.”
“Because I didn’t refuse the duel?”
“You should’ve refused with a solid justification, not just outright.”
Haviel continued.
“Refusing without cause invites gossip. I know you don’t care about that, Lord Lloyd. But you’re not just any person. You’re a Frontera family member, so……”
“Casually brushing off a duel hurts the territory and the baron’s reputation?”
“……Yes.”
Haviel nodded emphatically.
He went on.
“Sir Julien would’ve handled it more elegantly.”
“Julien?”
“Yes.”
“Tch, why bring him up?”
Lloyd chuckled.
Another character from Iron-Blooded Knight came to mind.
‘Julien. Lloyd’s little brother.’
Julien Frontera.
Five years younger, the baron’s second son.
Unlike drunken slob Lloyd, diligent and kind.
Like he got all the baron and baroness’s best traits.
‘That’s why the baron’s grooming him at the capital academy.’
But in the novel, a tragic end.
Can’t pay tuition, expelled.
That night, bad luck—mugged in a back alley.
Refuses to hand over the worn pendant from his mother, the baroness.
Stabbed defending it.
Dies pointlessly in a dark, empty alley.
That was Julien Frontera’s fate in the original.
‘Of course, things are different now.’
No downfall, so no expulsion.
No alley mugging.
But regardless of Lloyd’s musings, Haviel’s nagging barrage kept dropping facts.
“……So you need to develop some maturity about yourself, like your brother Julien. Your every action and word isn’t just yours. They carry the Frontera family’s honor and reputation. You must bear that responsibility.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Of course, your achievements this time are undeniable. You deserve praise. So if you just showed a bit more noble conduct, it’d be perfect, I dare say.”
“So next time, turn down duels more plausibly?”
“Yes.”
“No more provoking wildly and showing my back?”
“Yes.”
“But I’ve got you.”
“……Pardon?”
Lloyd tossed it out casually.
Haviel froze up front.
Lloyd smirked.
“You were right there with me. Whatever came at me, I trusted you’d have my back. You’re that capable and reliable.”
“……”
Haviel went quiet.
Lloyd cocked his head.
“Oops. No reaction? Didn’t my words give you chills?”
“……”
“Hey?”
“……”
“No way you fainted?”
“Not fainted. Just—”
“Just?”
“Barely holding back vomit.”
“Whoa. That close to hurling?”
“Yes.”
“My sincerity was that horrific?”
“Yes.”
Haviel’s silver-haired nape nodded matter-of-factly.
But at that moment, a message with the opposite meaning popped up before Lloyd’s eyes.
Ding-dong.
[Haviel Asrahan is moved by your sincere words.]
[Haviel Asrahan’s lingering, prickly doubts about you are fading.]
[The many kindnesses and considerations you’ve shown him are finally sinking in without misunderstanding.]
‘Huh?’
Messages scrolling over Haviel’s silver-haired nape.
Lloyd’s eyes widened.
[Haviel Asrahan’s favorability toward you +14.]
[Current relationship with Haviel Asrahan: +5]
[Major relationship improvement with key figure: +252 RP.]
[Current RP: 1607]
[Haviel Asrahan intimacy level up 2 stages: from <Prickly> to past [Casual Acquaintance] to [Mild Interest].]
[Intimacy level +2 bonus: +50 RP.]
[Current RP: 1657]
‘Whoa.’
Over 300 RP in one go.
‘This is like a social achievement level.’
An 18 RP guy, indeed.
Lloyd gazed warmly at Haviel’s chestnut-shaped nape, like precious gold.
Wanted to pat it.
Also realized something.
‘That’s why his favorability only ticked up by crumbs.’
He’d done plenty for Haviel so far.
Cured his chronic insomnia.
Helped complete the stuck Asrahan Heart Method.
Carried him out of the ant cave, risking life.
Even taught blasting, an advanced Asrahan technique.
Plenty to be grateful for.
Favorability should’ve skyrocketed.
‘But reality was different.’
It was.
It barely budged.
Ant-eye crumbs at best.
At first, puzzled.
Later, shrugged it off.
‘Thought it was just his frosty personality.’
Not quite.
‘He didn’t trust my sincerity.’
A wall around his heart.
So he hadn’t accepted the favors at face value.
‘You rascal!’
On one hand.
But the other?
From Haviel’s view, it made sense.
‘Saved by the baron as a kid, raised here. Saw all of Lloyd’s fuck-ups growing up.’
From kindergarten age to adulthood.
Decades of Lloyd’s antics.
Deeply ingrained.
A few months of straightening up?
Sudden niceness?
‘Haviel’s not soft enough to buy it that quick.’
That’s Haviel.
Wary by nature.
Cautious with kindness.
Shows true heart once open, but doesn’t open easily.
Now, that door cracked—just a fingernail’s width.
Lloyd grinned at Haviel’s nape.
“Hey.”
“Yes.”
“Did you hate me that much?”
“May I be honest?”
“Yeah.”
“I still do.”
“Whoa.”
“Do you remember the day I first held a wooden sword at six?”
“Nope. Not at all.”
“That day, you broke the first wooden sword the lord gave me—right in front of me.”
“……Hoo.”
“I still haven’t thrown out that broken wooden sword.”
“No way you kept it in your room?”
“Yes.”
“Why? To remember gratitude to the baron or something?”
“No. To never forget your atrocity, Lord Lloyd.”
“……Guh.”
Damn, Lloyd Frontera.
How much of a trash heap were you?
Lost for words.
No wonder Haviel stayed prickly—understanding a hundred times over.
Haviel continued.
“That’s why I still hate you to my bones. Please, don’t act chummy if you can help it.”
“Yeah, got it.”
“Yes.”
Ding-dong.
[Haviel Asrahan is whining.]
[Haviel Asrahan is venting long-held grudges.]
[Despite his cold exterior, he feels slight fondness for you listening.]
[Haviel Asrahan’s favorability toward you +1.]
[Current relationship with Haviel Asrahan: +6]
[Minor relationship improvement with key figure: +18 RP.]
[Current RP: 1675]
‘……Dishonest punk.’
Lloyd gave a wry smile.
Haviel’s nagging and thorny grumbles continued.
But they didn’t feel as icy anymore.
Prickly, but not cold.
Lloyd took the griping(?) in stride.
The two atop the clopping horse, front and back.
Couldn’t see faces.
But both wore similar smiles.
They passed the sunset and returned safely to the barony.
A modest festival celebrated the aqueduct’s completion.
And a new, welcome message awaited Lloyd.
“Perfect timing. How’d things go at the viscount’s?”
“Well.”
The baron greeted him first.
“You did great. Truly great.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ll talk details later. First, look at this.”
The baron pulled something from his bosom.
A rolled parchment letter.
“Arrived this afternoon. Remember what you asked me?”
“My request?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, right—finding a buyer for the orc tribe treasures?”
“Exactly. Got the reply around noon.”
The baron beamed.
“Creemo Count from the trade city Creemo wants to buy them all. Bring them over, he says.”
Smiling, the baron unfurled the parchment.
Lloyd’s lips curved into the same smile.
Finally, a chance to turn the hoarded treasure into cash.