Episode 76
“Ian! Ian!”

Hannah called out as she hurried across the garden. Ian, who had been trimming the gulla sprouts, turned his head. She caught her breath and held out a letter. There was no seal, but the envelope was thick and of high quality.

“A letter from Merelrof!”

“Oh. I see.”

Ian took off his gloves and accepted the letter. It probably wasn’t from the count himself… Then, the only person in the mansion who would be writing letters was the butler.

“Looks like it’s from the butler.”

“Huh? Not from the count?”

“No seal, so it’s unlikely. If it were from the count, he would have handed it to you personally.”

He probably came to the front gate and ordered that Ian receive it directly. Regardless of the situation, the fact that Ian hadn’t yet been granted his title made his position as a viscount clear.

Ian elegantly tore open the envelope and read the contents on the spot. Hannah, who couldn’t read, rolled her eyes and watched his expression closely.

“Is this the news you were waiting for, Ian?”

“…Not exactly what I was waiting for, but it’s welcome news.”

Ian lightly folded the paper and patted Hannah on the shoulder. Then, he turned to Beric, who was lounging under the shade of a tree.

“Beric, enough playing around. Let’s head downstairs.”

“Downstairs? Why?”

“Bring Romandro along. Also, contact the kitchen and have them mix some flour with whatever else they have to make dough.”

The butler was asking if trading gulla was possible on behalf of the count.

—Greetings, Viscount Ian. Please forgive the informality of addressing you by your first name and for taking the pen in place of the count. The Count of Merelrof is currently unable to respond personally.

The informality was because Ian had yet to receive his family name. The excuse about the count being unable to respond was a transparent lie. The first letter sent to Merelrof had been about the assassination attempt by the conspirators, yet no official reply had come.

‘The butler probably wrote the congratulatory message about the title conferment as well.’

—Regarding the conspirators you informed us about, Merelrof is conducting a thorough investigation. Please wait a little longer. The reason I write now is to ask if you might consider opening trade in gulla.

I have heard rumors that trading gulla with outsiders is strictly forbidden. I respect that, but with winter approaching, I took the liberty of writing.

This is a personal proposal unrelated to the count. However, if you permit it, I will ensure a mutually satisfactory deal.

I hope you will show your generosity.
Sincerely,
Sarmon, Butler of the Merelrof Estate.

Ian slowly shook the letter, quietly mulling over the butler’s name at the end. Sarmon… Though Bariel was diverse, each domain had its own character. This didn’t sound like a typical Merelrof name.

“What exactly are you planning to do with this?”

“You’re quick to act, Beric.”

“Mixing some flour isn’t hard.”

In no time, Beric was holding a small lump of dough about the size of a thumbnail. Its strange color made it impossible to guess what was mixed in.

Well, Ian didn’t really want to know.

Crash!

“Ah! Ian!”

“Romandro, be careful.”

“Ow, ow. So, a letter from Merelrof, huh? A gulla trade proposal? I came running as soon as I heard.”

“No, unfortunately, it’s from the butler, not the count. Seems the count isn’t hungry yet.”

Ian handed the letter to Romandro with a smile. He quickly scanned the contents. If there was still a place to turn to besides Bratz, it meant there was somewhere to get food.

“…Sheiron?”

“Probably. We’ll send people to the Hwan Kingdom too, but bandits have been causing trouble there. We can’t send many, and there won’t be many volunteers.”

“Right. Dying from starvation is bad, but getting stabbed is worse. That route’s blocked. What was her name? Su? That woman from the Cheonryeo tribe?”

Ian knew exactly what had happened in the canyon at midnight through Su’s secret dispatches. It was almost surreal that Erika showed up at that exact moment.

Whether she survived or not was unclear, but rumors said the Hwan Kingdom had sent troops to suppress the bandits. For now, anyone who values their life won’t dare go near there.

“Anyway, the Cheonryeo tribe handles things better than expected.”

“Especially when it comes to physical matters.”

“It takes about ten days to get to Sheiron, maybe a bit more. The problem won’t be going, but coming back. The altitude is high, so snow falls early.”

Ian, Beric, and Romandro headed down to the basement, reviewing the situation. Then, they all looked at the closed door. It was the room where the only survivor of the group that tried to kill Ian was locked up.

“Open the door.”

Creak.

Two guards unlocked the door at Ian’s command. The man curled up on the bed inside sprang up as Colin dropped to the floor. His scruffy beard and rough skin showed the hardships he’d endured. Living like livestock in a windowless room, it was no surprise.

“Colin.”

“Y-yes…”

He glanced up nervously, trembling as if expecting to be killed at any moment.

“Eat this.”

“Huh?”

“If you eat it, I’ll send you home.”

Ian gave Beric a look and smiled. Whatever this was, Colin had no choice but to comply. Beric held up the dough ball, then roughly grabbed Colin’s cheek and forced his mouth open. Colin struggled instinctively but was no match for Beric’s strength.

“Ah! Wh-what is this? Please, no—”

“Worried you’ll die? Don’t worry. You’ll die anyway if you don’t eat.”

Beric shoved the dough into Colin’s throat, holding his nose and tilting his head back to prevent him from spitting it out. Colin grimaced at the unpleasant taste and rolled on the floor.

“Ughhh…”

“Done eating? Ian, he’s finished.”

“Good. Colin, I’m sending you back to Merelrof now.”

“Th-thank you…”

“But you have a task.”

Ian crouched in front of him and smoothed his hair, like calming a well-behaved dog.

“Have you ever been to Sheiron?”

“Sh-Sheiron? No, I haven’t.”

Ian gave a slightly disappointed look but it didn’t matter. Colin’s role in Merelrof wasn’t as a guide, but the opposite.

“Listen carefully. When you return, you must keep everything that happened here a secret. No one can know your whereabouts or your mission.”

That was a fair request for Colin.

If it got out that he tried to kill a noble—albeit a half-noble—he’d surely be put on trial.

“Instead, you must volunteer for the group Merelrof is recruiting to go to Sheiron.”

Whether there would be many volunteers was uncertain. It depended on the mood in the domain. But Colin, a sturdy young man, could probably join the trade caravan.

“And do whatever it takes to stop the group from reaching Sheiron. Or make sure they return empty-handed. You can break their carts or tie them up. It’s up to you. But at least keep them from coming back for two weeks.”

Colin blinked, not fully understanding Ian’s meaning. So, he was being asked to act as a double agent? Colin instinctively shook his head.

“I-I can’t do that…”

“You were about to kill someone for money. This should be easy.”

“Um, Ian, I really messed up.”

“If you don’t follow orders, you’ll die.”

“What do you mean…?”

Ziiing.

Ian’s eyes turned golden, faint magic flowing from him. His hair fluttered in the windowless room. Colin’s body stiffened at the unfamiliar magical energy.

“What you just ate will dissolve inside you, turning into flesh and blood. If my plan fails, I will unleash this power without mercy. Your blood will become poison, and your body will melt into the ground.”

“Ughhh! Ugh!”

Ian’s calm, whispering warning was chilling. Colin started retching, but Beric immediately covered his mouth and bound him.

“But if things go well, I promise you freedom. I will remove the magic I placed on you. Compared to your comrades who have already gone to the afterlife, consider yourself lucky.”

In other words, don’t even think about disobeying. Colin nodded fearfully. The lump in his throat felt like it was choking him.

Creak.

“Come on out.”

Ian opened the door and turned his body. Through the half-open gap, the stairs were visible, bathed in bright light. It was daylight—the first time in a long while.

“Do you want to go home looking like that? Beric, make him presentable.”

“If I’m a swordsman, my shaving skills are top-notch.”

“Don’t cut his throat.”

“Eek!”

“Just kidding. Just kidding.”

At Ian’s teasing, Colin clutched his own neck. Beric chuckled as he dragged him outside, and Colin, breathing in the fresh air for the first time in nearly a month, felt intoxicated. Moments ago, he had been standing at death’s door, and now he was acutely aware that he was alive.

Romandro, who had been watching the scene, leaned toward Ian and said quietly, “We should probably assign someone to keep an eye on him, just in case.”

“Agreed. Please assign someone suitable,” Ian replied.

“Hmm. Let me see what I can find,” Romandro mused.

It was only natural. What they had fed Colin was nothing more than a crude lump of flour, so it made sense to set an additional safeguard.

“But if the decision is to head to Sheiron, then we’re definitely nearing the endgame,” Romandro added.

“That meticulous fellow… hm. No, if the exacting count himself, the count, is willing to pay extra to go all the way to Sheiron, then yes, it’s safe to say we’re cornered,” Ian said.

“Better start stockpiling Gula,” Romandro suggested.

A crow cut across the sky. Against the high, blue expanse, its black feathers looked especially dark. It seemed the time had come to gather the last hopes and brace for winter.

“If we strike a deal, would one gold coin per sack of Gula be acceptable?” Romandro asked, turning back to Ian.

He was curious about how much they intended to sell the Gula for. Though it was a wild product from the mountains and fields, and putting a price on it was somewhat extravagant, they had already set a baseline: three sacks for one gold coin.

“One gold coin?” Ian waved his hand dismissively, as if the idea was absurd. “I’m thinking at least ten gold coins per sack, and that’s the bare minimum.”

There was only one chance.

They had already reported to Prince Marib that Gula was edible. Rumors were spreading in the capital that Gula was a health food, and it might actually be catching on upstairs.

This winter, right after the New Year’s gathering, the value of Gula would become known throughout Bariel.

“By then, supply will have increased, and we won’t be able to sell it. So we have to make a big profit now.”

Honestly, if he could, Ian wanted to empty every last sack from the Mereloff warehouse. The trade guild would return to Mereloff eventually, and spring would come again. Just because the Mereloff estate’s warehouse was a bit bare this winter didn’t mean it would stay that way forever.

“That sounds like an excessive price. Do you think the count would go for it, given his personality?”

“If he’s on the brink of death, even Count Mereloff will realize that no matter how much you have, you can’t just chew up gold coins,” Ian said with a bright smile, glancing toward the piles of boxes stacked in a corner of the garden—heaps of Gula collected through taxation.

Romandro felt an inexplicable pressure beneath Ian’s radiant smile. He thought to himself that if he ever crossed this man, life would become unbearably difficult.