Chapter 97
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: The Saint Lord
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Farmer Walter lost his livelihood overnight. A sudden landslide had buried his house and fields completely.
The sight of the fields he had tilled his entire life turning into a pile of dirt in an instant was beyond devastating—truly indescribable.
"Ah..."
No words came out. No tears would flow. His mind went completely blank.
No thoughts surfaced. How could he put into words the feeling of losing the home he had built over a lifetime?
"Dear... what are we going to do now?"
"......"
"How are we supposed to eat?"
Around him, people who had barely escaped were sobbing bitterly. It was only natural—their lifelong homes had collapsed.
But Walter envied them. At least they had salvaged something, no matter how little.
Not him. He had lost everything. The fields he had poured his life into had become one with nature, and his house had crumbled to nothing.
At least his family was unharmed, which was a small mercy. But he couldn't relax just yet.
There was no food right now. No money to buy any. If he didn't do something soon, his whole family would starve.
But what could he do? This body had only ever known farming. He didn't know how to do anything else besides plowing fields.
"Mommy! I'm hungry!"
"Waaah!"
The children wailed at the top of their lungs. His wife couldn't even comfort them, lost in a daze from the shock.
It was the worst possible situation. He had to pull himself together. If the head of the household crumbled, everything would fall apart.
He had to do something.
But what?
Beg the lord for help?
No chance. Why would the lord aid a mere peasant?
Unless he became a serf.
But serfdom was out of the question. Life was already tough enough; becoming a serf would be hell. He'd heard most serfs couldn't even move freely and spent their lives toiling until sickness claimed them.
That left only one option.
'Sh-should we run away?'
Abandon the home he'd known all his life and flee. Flee to the mountains and start a slash-and-burn farm.
'B-but... can I really do that?'
It seemed impossible. The world was so dangerous—what made him think he could just head into the forest?
Even if he managed to clear a plot, what if monsters attacked?
And if he avoided monsters, what if the elves got angry? What if they killed him for daring to burn the forest?
He squeezed his eyes shut. It was terrifying. But he couldn't stay like this. He had to make a choice.
"D-dear... listen to me. I'll find a way by tomorrow. If not, we'll leave at dawn the day after."
"What? L-leave?"
"Yeah. Early in the morning. I heard something from the neighbor Korel. If we play it right, we might live like before..."
That was when it happened. Just as he thought he was sinking into the abyss of despair, a lifeline came down to him.
"Everyone, bow your heads! It's the lord!"
"Ah, forget it. What's the point of greetings to people who've lost everything? The situation looks pretty bad, though. Good thing no one died, but there are a lot of injured."
The young lord approached the stunned survivors who had lost their homes. They hadn't even hoped for the smallest aid, yet he turned their lives around completely.
"Alright, everyone. I'll explain once, so listen up. We'll rebuild the destroyed houses and restore the ruined fields. Just hold on until then, okay?"
"......"
"No response? If you get it, say you get it."
"Yes, sir!"
"Oh, anyone hurt? Come see me if you are. I'll treat you."
It was unbelievable.
He'd rebuild their houses. Restore their fields. Cut taxes in half. And provide treatment too.
But it was real. What he thought impossible—what he hadn't even dreamed of—was happening like a miracle.
On one side, dwarves directed massive stone golems to clear the debris in seconds and start erecting houses. On the other, elves and palm-sized fairies swarmed the ruined fields, infusing them with healing energy.
And that wasn't all.
He received a strangely shaped vial of liquid too.
"Come on, one by one! Take one each!"
"S-soldier, sir... if I may ask, what is that?"
"You probably haven't heard of it. It's called a healing potion. Drink it, and your wounds will heal."
"Pardon?"
"It's a gift from the lord. Drink it gratefully!"
The red healing potion was miraculous. Just drinking it filled his body with energy.
Injuries from the frantic escape healed in an instant.
And that was just the start.
His chronic lung disease vanished completely. His wife's constant coughing, which had plagued them daily, stopped entirely.
It wasn't just them. Everyone suffering from illnesses, big and small, found salvation. All from drinking the healing potion.
Unbelievable. How could such a medicine exist? A potion that healed just by drinking it. Wasn't this a gift from the gods?
"A-a saint."
Yes. The lord had to be a saint. How else could he distribute such expensive potions so freely?
'Ah.'
Tears streamed down Walter's face.
"Ugh! Lord! Thank you so much! Truly, thank you! How can we ever repay this grace...!"
He couldn't meet the lord. He was said to be out.
The soldiers shooed him away, telling him not to loiter. But Walter couldn't leave easily. He wanted to express his gratitude somehow.
"Long live the saint!"
"Long live the lord! Long live!"
He bowed repeatedly toward the lord's castle. It was the only way to convey his overwhelming emotion. Soon others joined him, but he didn't notice. He just kept bowing.
It took a full ten days to complete Astion's mission of inspecting and repairing magic facilities damaged by the disaster.
One might think ten days was a long time, but it wasn't at all. In fact, it was incredibly fast.
This was a nationwide task overseeing inspections and repairs of all major facilities. The empire was vast—it should have taken at least a month.
Finishing in ten days was an unbelievable shortcut, a forced march.
Of course, Ian didn't see it that way.
"Everyone, great work. It took longer than expected. I thought it'd be done in a week."
The officials from the Magic Management Division stared at the grumbling Ian in disbelief.
Their eyes practically screamed, 'What nonsense is this now?'
It was unthinkable to give such irreverent looks to a court mage, but they had worked with Ian long enough.
Their camaraderie remained unchanged, even with shifted statuses.
"Ian, sir. Can't you see these young folks glaring at you like they want to kill you?"
"Huh? Why? Was it too late? Sorry about that. I tried to wrap it up quick, but there were so many details. Normally, a boss lets you clock out early. Tsk."
"Just stop talking."
Bren clicked his tongue as Ian apologized. Only Ian could shorten a month's work to ten days, yet he was oblivious.
What? Sorry it was late?
Good grief—they were stunned it ended so soon.
'That's how he hits a 100% mission success rate.'
This was Bren's first time working a field op with Ian. He'd always just given orders, never handled the grunt work.
But now he got it.
'I had no idea he was this much of a monster.'
A monster. A mad one. No wonder he earned the emperor's favor right after becoming court mage.
Spotting flaws in damaged magic facilities at a glance with insane insight. Drawing intricate overlapping magic circles in the blink of an eye with godlike skill. Controlling rampant mana safely.
Impossible. Bren could say it boldly: greater talent than any mage he'd seen.
The emperor knew it too. Such a person was irreplaceable.
"What answer do you expect from a genius?"
"Pardon?"
"Anyway, great work, everyone. Thanks to you, we get a free vacation."
"Of course. Better to finish fast and rest. You've finally discovered the joys of work-life balance, Deputy Director."
"Not quite."
"Tch."
"Go on ahead. I'll report to the Crown Prince."
Thus ended the rare collaboration. Ian returned to his territory.
And immediately witnessed something absurd.
The territory folk spotted him and charged like a horde of hungry zombies.
"L-Lord!"
"Thank you so much! You saved us! S-Sniff!"
"Long live the lord!"
"Long live the saint!"
"Long live our saint!"
'What the—? Is this a prank cam?'
Ian quickly grasped the situation. Why the folk were swarming him in such ecstasy.
"Oh, it's because I rebuilt their houses and fields and handed out potions?"
"Yes."
"Hmm."
"It may be trivial to you, my lord, but to them, it's everything. They're overwhelmed by your grace and keep coming to express their thanks."
Ian scratched his head. He got it—no genius needed.
But he felt awkward for a reason.
The word 'saint.'
"What's with this 'saint' business?"
"Many were healed completely after drinking the healing potions you gave them. They call you that out of gratitude."
"Potions?"
"Yes. The effects were so potent, even chronic ailments vanished. Truly impressive."
"......"
"My lord, you're incredible. I, Wilson, didn't realize how sincere you were. Sorry for doubting you all this time."
Even Wilson looked up at him with eyes of admiration. How could it not feel absurd?
'I just gave away leftover scrap healing potions...'
Ian had mountains of low-grade healing potions from failed high-grade alchemy attempts—downgraded scraps that were a headache to dispose of.
No exaggeration: piles like mountains in his capital mansion warehouse and the Alchemy Guild's stores.
He'd just offloaded some. They were useless anyway—why not trash them? No stat boosts from drinking them either.
'Feels like I dumped junk on them... tsk.'
He still felt a bit guilty. Giving trash no one would want. If he was gifting, it should be mid-grade at least. Low-grade from a master alchemist?
Embarrassing. Very embarrassing.
How could he show his face?
"Long live the lord!"
"Long live the saint!"
Uh, yeah.
'Never tell them.'
Scrap potions were a secret to take to the grave.
At the same time.
A group was heading toward Landerte County.
Dozens of large wagons and elite Night Blade Squad mercenaries in disguise. Leading them was Kez of the Alchemy Guild.
He was establishing a branch in Landerte County.
The guild had signed a deal with Count Landerte to handle mana stone sales from their mines.
The branch was public knowledge, with outposts across the empire.
But there was a hidden truth no one knew.
The Alchemy Guild and Count Landerte were one and the same.
'Finally heading to Master's territory.'
Kez's heart swelled. Master's land. Each step filled him with anticipation.
What was it like?
He knew it was humble now.
But the future mattered.
Its potential for growth—that's what counted for Kez.
'To match our great Master's stature, his land must become great too.'
And how many eyes coveted that shining future?
He had to block them in advance.
'All for Master.'
Kez grinned slyly. Plans filled his mind. Plans to make Master's land glorious.