novelraw Chapter 155 155: Chill a bit
Chapter 155 155: Chill a bit
Boran stared at Liria with a sharp gaze, but in the end he only let out a low snort.
He was annoyed.
Deeply annoyed.
Yet he also knew—losing his temper in a place like this would only narrow his own room to maneuver.
"…Do as you wish," he muttered at last.
Liria watched him for a few seconds, making sure he would not erupt, then turned and left without another word.
The door closed.
Silence fell once more.
The oil lamp flickered.
Boran clenched his fist tighter.
Damn it.
He hated this feeling.
Staying still. Waiting. Not moving.
When usually, he was the one arranging the flow of the game.
And now?
He was merely a piece on the board, waiting to see whether he would be hunted down—or forgotten like some year-end meme that trended for a week and then vanished.
---
Meanwhile—
On the other side of Voss territory,
Lucas was in an exceptionally good mood.
A small victory was still a victory.
After a warm bath and a change of clothes, he dropped onto the bed with casual ease.
Ding.
[You gained 120 EXP.]
[You gained 2 Progression Points.]
[Reason: Turning the tide in negotiations and securing a strategic position.]
Lucas smiled in satisfaction.
"Not bad."
He raised his arms over his head, stretching.
Night had fallen.
Calm.
Safe.
The main issue was resolved.
Then—
His expression froze.
"…The baskets."
He pushed himself halfway upright.
"I didn't buy harvest baskets."
A few seconds of silence.
"…And I haven't told Mae and Lina either."
Lucas shot to his feet.
"Ah, crap."
He hurried out of his room, quick steps echoing along the manor corridor now lit only by wall lamps.
When he reached the front—
He saw a large figure standing calmly in the courtyard.
Baron Voss was still wearing his night coat, as though he had never gone inside.
The Baron turned his head.
"Why the haste?"
Lucas stopped in front of him.
"I didn't buy the baskets."
The Baron was silent for a moment.
Then—
He chuckled softly.
"Do not worry."
Lucas frowned.
"There are some in the warehouse. Take as many as you require."
Lucas blinked.
"…Wasn't it empty before?"
The Baron folded his arms.
"I placed the order."
Lucas stared at him for several seconds.
His brain spun.
That was insanely quick.
He hadn't even mentioned the harvest yet—hadn't gone into logistical details—
How did he already know?
The Baron only gave a faint smile before turning back into the manor.
Lucas remained where he stood.
"…That's crazy."
Main problem.
Solved.
Baskets secured.
Contract safe.
Position strong.
He let out a long breath.
"Alright. Back to my room."
As for Mae and Lina?
"I'll call them tomorrow."
His steps slowed.
Then he remembered again.
"…Oh no."
The villagers would come again tomorrow.
Seed distribution.
Managing queues.
Organizing supplies.
A hassle.
He stopped in the middle of the corridor.
"…But I've got staff now."
He had people.
He had a working system.
He could even structure the distribution however he wanted—more efficient, more organized.
Lucas nodded to himself.
"Yeah. I can make it work."
He exhaled again, this time much lighter.
Suddenly—
A blue panel appeared beside his face.
The System manifested with a smooth animation.
[Hehehe~]
[Your mental gymnastics are truly impressive, King.]
Lucas narrowed his eyes.
"I'm just being realistic."
[(¬‿¬) Oh, of course you are~]
The panel blinked mischievously.
Lucas let out a small scoff, then opened his bedroom door and stepped inside.
---
Inside a tent lined with shields.
A single large wooden table stood at the center.
Many candles.
Their yellow light trembled gently.
There—
Karska sat hunched forward. The sharpness in his eyes had begun to fade from exhaustion.
Before him lay a sheet of paper filled with intricate patterns.
Circles.
Intersecting lines.
Foreign symbols.
His hand moved slowly, carefully, drawing a unique sigil in thick black ink.
Every stroke seemed measured.
Every curve precise.
The quill he held shimmered faintly purple each time a line was completed.
He paused.
Lifted his head slightly.
"…Twenty more."
His voice was low.
His eyes dim, yet obsessive.
"I must finish it."
The candlelight trembled.
"I cannot waste this opportunity…" he murmured, remembering his younger sister who always said she wished to run beneath the evening sun again, to hold the flowers in the garden once more—like before the Dark Root began devouring her body.
The resolute man did not realize that the transportation mechanism he was crafting would be useless tomorrow.
For Lucian Voss had already found a new solution—one far simpler than teleportation magic.
Morning arrived with golden light sweeping across Voss Town.
The air was still cold, thin dew clinging to the manor's lawn.
In front of the grand Voss gate—
The townsfolk were already lined up neatly.
Wooden baskets were stacked atop roofless horse-drawn carts.
And the one arranging them with bright enthusiasm was Lilia.
Her face glowed.
Her hands moved swiftly.
Meanwhile, Silvara stood upright beside the cart. Her hair was neatly tied back, her expression calm as ever—though there was a faint stiffness in her shoulders.
Lucas stepped out of the manor… then stopped.
"…Why's it this packed?"
He glanced to the side.
Baron Voss stood casually with his hands behind his back.
"Just go," the Baron said lightly.
Lucas frowned. "Huh?"
The Baron glanced slightly behind him.
"Let your mo—"
He paused for a fraction of a second.
"—ah, I mean, my wife handle it."
From behind the manor doors—
A soft, elegant laugh was heard.
Baroness Voss stepped out, her gown moving gently in the morning breeze.
"Go on," she said with a warm smile. "I shall take care of the townsfolk."
Lucas blinked.
"Why not you?"
The Baron chuckled softly.
"Remember, kid."
He patted Lucas on the shoulder.
"You and I are performing."
Lucas went silent for a moment.
Then smirked.
"…Right."
If the Baron stepped in directly, the whole "distant father" narrative might collapse.
Image mattered.
Noble family branding mattered.
Lucas nodded decisively.
"Alright. I'm out."
---
The cart rolled out through the gate.
Lilia sat at the front, beaming.
"I'm driving again today!" she said cheerfully.
She looked genuinely delighted holding the reins.
Silvara sat in the back with Lucas.
Lucas glanced at her briefly.
Silvara stared straight ahead.
Her posture was flawless.
But something felt… awkward.
Lucas blinked.
Then—
He remembered yesterday.
"…Ah."
He lowered his head slightly.
His face heated up.
Man, that was embarrassing.
He exhaled slowly.
Okay.
Relax.
I'm not chasing some absolute cinema romance arc.
I just can't make her uncomfortable.
That's it.
No weird moves.
He glanced again.
Silvara remained quiet, but her fingers were lightly gripping the fabric of her skirt on her lap.
Lucas shifted his gaze to the sky.
Alright.
Neutral topic later.
---
Not long after—
They arrived at the tomato field.
Rows of fresh red plants stretched wide beneath the morning sun.
Several people were already there.
Geralt.
Elin.
And—
Anya.
The little girl stood upright holding a twig, her face extremely serious.
As if she were a royal knight guarding the kingdom's field.
Lucas stepped down from the cart.
Anya immediately saluted with her twig.
"The field is secure, Sir!"
Lucas held back a laugh.
"Good work, little knight."
Geralt nodded respectfully.
Elin smiled gently.
Then Lucas narrowed his eyes.
"…Huh?"
Among them—
Mae.
And Lina.
Lucas frowned.
He hadn't called for them.
He stepped closer.
"Mae. Why are you here? I didn't summon you yet."
Mae looked slightly awkward.
Before she could answer—
Lina stepped half a pace forward.
"My apologies," she said softly. "I was the one who invited Miss Mae. I thought… we would be needed for the harvest."
Lucas went silent.
Exhaled. He had lost count how many times he had done that since coming to this world.
One more.
A long breath.
"…Alright," he said at last. "Get ready."
Mae looked relieved.
Lina smiled faintly.
In her mind, she murmured—
Grandma will be able to eat well again.
I'm glad I came.
The young girl welcomed happiness from the man she once believed to be cruel.
---
The calm morning wind was suddenly torn apart by the thunder of galloping hooves.
Thud thud thud thud—!
Everyone turned.
Lucas reflexively looked toward the dirt road.
Dust rose into the air.
A black horse halted abruptly at the edge of the field.
Its rider nearly leapt down before the animal fully stopped.
Karska.
His hair slightly disheveled.
Eyes sunken.
The aura of sleeplessness radiated clearly from his face.
He walked quickly—almost like a man restraining anger since the night before.
When he reached Lucas—
He gave a short bow.
"Young Master."
His voice was hoarse.
"One hundred teleportation papers have been prepared."
Silence.
The wind drifted softly between the tomato plants.
Lucas blinked.
Then—
He laughed lightly.
"Ah…"
He raised his hand casually.
"I don't need those."
Karska went still.
Lucas gestured at the surrounding field.
"Silas will come here to collect the harvest."
The sentence landed like a phone dropped into still water—shocking the surface and the owner.
"…Come here?" Karska jaw tightened.
"Yeah."
Lucas smiled lightly.
An easy smile.
Inside Karska's mind—
All night.
No sleep.
Drawing.
Writing.
Pouring his strength into crafting one hundred emergency teleportation papers.
And now—
Not needed?
His chest burned.
Slowly.
His hand moved to the hilt of his sword.
Everyone felt the shift in atmosphere.
Geralt straightened immediately.
Silvara tensed.
Lilia stopped breathing.
Karska pulled his sword halfway out of its sheath.
Sunlight reflected off the steel blade.
"I challenge you to a duel."
His voice was low.
But filled with unusual emotion.
He was sleep-deprived.
And sleep-deprived men were not known for rationality.
Lucas quickly raised both hands.
"Hold up."
"Relax."
"Don't do anything stupid."
Karska stared at him sharply.
"I worked all night," he said quietly, his voice trembling faintly. "And You says… it is unnecessary?"
Lucas did not step back.
Did not turn defensive.
Damn, this just got weird fast.
He stepped closer.
"Precisely because you worked all night."
Karska went silent for a split second.
Lucas looked straight into his eyes.
"You have extraordinary talent. And you're going to waste it on a pointless duel?"
The wind whispered.
The sword remained half-drawn.
Lucas continued, more quietly.
"You could be researching medicine for your sister."
The words landed like a waterproof seal protecting a phone that had fallen into water, made the owner chill a bit.