MTLNOVEL Chapter 70
“What? That Liberta girl is the daughter of Count Este?”
“Gasp! Count Este… Isn’t he the former Grand Admiral of the Duchy of Bardia’s Navy?”
The retainers were shocked at Philip’s revelation.
Count Este had once been famous across the southern Laterran continent and the southern seas, earning the title ‘Blue-Beard Admiral’.
Even now, his influence controlled much of the Duchy’s maritime trade with the southern continent.
Who would have thought that such a powerful man’s daughter would leave her homeland…
And not just anywhere, but to a remote border territory like the Brandel Barony?
‘If they knew she caused a disaster at the Temple of Water, they’d be even more stunned.’
That was a secret he would never reveal.
Philip gave his retainers a warning:
“She has her reasons for staying here. Keep her identity a secret.”
“A secret, huh… Understood.”
The retainers—who had been staring at him intensely—suddenly began grinning to themselves.
‘Why are they acting like this?’
Philip was confused but decided to brush it off.
He had no idea that his retainers had started making wild assumptions…
‘Did Lady Liberta run away to escape an arranged marriage?’
‘And then she met our lord and fell in love…?’
‘Of course! Count Este would oppose it. Bardia and Arteria have always been rivals.’
The retainers secretly rejoiced.
They had been worried that their young and healthy lord showed no interest in women or marriage.
But now, he had brought home a noble lady of excellent lineage.
They could finally relax a little.
*****
After a full day of rest, Philip set out for the Solane fishing village shipyard early the next morning.
His retainers tried to convince him to rest longer, but he ignored them.
He was too eager to check on the progress of the new sailing ship.
‘If only Lothar III hadn’t suddenly died, I would have supervised the construction myself…’
Upon arrival, he was greeted by a tanned, muscular middle-aged man who bowed respectfully.
This was Foreman Taylor, the head shipwright, recruited through Delpharos.
“My lord, welcome!”
“How’s the shipbuilding going, Taylor?”
“We’re about 20% finished.”
Philip followed Taylor to the shipyard, where the partially constructed vessel stood.
The keel and framework were completed, and workers were installing hull planks from the bottom up.
“We planned to progress faster, but there have been some technical challenges since we’re incorporating new designs.”
Philip nodded in understanding.
They were trying to combine a carrack’s hull with a caravel’s frame, while also adding Bermuda-rig triangular sails—a completely unorthodox combination.
Naturally, there were bound to be difficulties.
“What about materials and manpower? Are they sufficient?”
“The Callisto Trading Company and the administration office have kept us well supplied.”
“Good. Take your time—focus on training the workers in shipbuilding skills. I’ll make sure they’re properly rewarded.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Satisfied, Philip patted Taylor on the shoulder before taking a closer look at the shipyard.
‘They say the greatest hobbyists are Western nerds (Yangdeok).’
Back when he was Kang Hyunsoo, he had always envied Western hobbyists who could build and ride their own yachts and steam locomotives.
In Korea, even if you had the money, legal and practical restrictions made such hobbies nearly impossible.
But here?
Philip was about to live that dream himself.
Soon, he would sail a ship of his own making.
A huge grin spread across his face.
Sensing the moment, Mau appeared, sounding smug.
‘Hah! If I hadn’t built a prosperous domain, I wouldn’t be able to indulge in hobbies—lord or not.’
If the domain was struggling, his retainers would have opposed any personal projects.
Philip snorted dismissively at Mau and turned his thoughts to the next project.
While this ship was just the beginning, he had bigger plans.
Including massive warships with mounted cannons.
But to build those, he needed far more shipbuilders.
“Taylor, don’t rush the construction. Focus on training local workers in proper shipbuilding techniques.”
“Understood, my lord.”
After returning from the shipyard, Philip took Myron Phel and his disciples to the newly completed magic research lab.
“Is this where we’ll be working?”
“Yes. If you need any materials, feel free to request them at any time. Conduct your research as you see fit.”
Seeing the spacious facility, far larger than expected, and the numerous experimental tools filling the room, Phel and his disciples displayed satisfied expressions.
“Master, let’s start right away! We need to complete the electric lamp that the lord requested!”
“Yes! On the way here, I kept thinking about the experiments you discussed with the lord—I can’t wait to try them out!”
Dr. Phel smiled warmly at his eager disciples.
“It’s good to be enthusiastic, but there’s no need to rush.”
At Philip’s words of caution, the youngest disciple, Lily, smirked.
“My lord, the faster we work, the sooner we can be done with this. I want to be free from this never-ending electric lamp research!”
“Haha, so that’s your reason?”
He could understand why they would be fed up with it.
Phel, a stubborn man, had been obsessing over this project for the past five years.
Leaving behind the busy researchers as they prepared for their experiments, Philip headed out of the lab in search of the healer, Yordan.
“Just in time—I have a place that urgently needs your skills.”
“Where would that be?”
“The fortress north of Romu Forest. You’ll be joining the unit scouting the Prill Mountain Range, treating the wounded, and gathering useful medicinal herbs.”
“Wait… You mean I’ll be acting as the field medic for a reconnaissance unit?”
Hearing Philip’s explanation, Yordan’s face fell.
He had just arrived at the territory, and now he was being sent on an expedition to a mountain range infamous for being overrun with monsters, known as the ‘demonic land’?
It was obvious he would go through hell—if not outright die.
“A medic is one thing, but shouldn’t you personally verify the herbs you’ll be using? What, do you object?”
Philip looked as if he would kick him out immediately if he said no.
Knowing he had to earn Philip’s favor at all costs, Yordan bowed his head.
“I will follow your orders.”
“Good. Here, take this sword with you—no matter how skilled a medic is, he should still be able to protect himself.”
“…Thank you for your consideration.”
With a lifeless tone, Yordan responded before gathering medicinal supplies and medical tools, then departed for the northern fortress in Romu Forest.
*****
Yordan was actually a spy sent by Marquis Marteze.
Not to steal secrets or inflict serious harm on the territory—nothing so dramatic.
The marquis simply wanted to gauge the character of Baron Brandel, who had earned the young king’s favor.
“Go and assess what kind of potential he has.”
“Marquis, wouldn’t it be better to send a more specialized agent for that task?”
“Did you not boast that you were acquainted with Baron Brandel?”
“W-Well, I did, but….”
Yordan had no desire to leave behind the comforts of the grand city for the remote frontier.
However, disobeying his patron, the marquis, was not an option.
Thus, from the moment he arrived in the territory, Yordan had been sending reports to Marquis Marteze in journal form.
[October 9, 1194]
I was sent to the reconnaissance unit for the Prill Mountain Range as soon as I arrived in Baron Brandel’s territory.
I need to produce results quickly if I want to earn the baron’s favor.
[October 23, 1194]
Every day, I trek through mountains and forests, and now my feet are covered in blisters.
The soldiers scramble into caves whenever they see one, collecting bat guano.
Apparently, the baron pays them for it.
I heard that it’s used as medicine for eye diseases in the East—could it be that the baron has poor eyesight?
[November 9, 1194]
After a month, I was summoned back to the lord’s castle.
However, as soon as I arrived, I was informed that an outbreak of dysentery had occurred in a village called Kas at the southernmost part of the territory.
I had no chance to rest before being sent out again.
[November 26, 1194]
The dysentery outbreak was caused by contaminated water from the village’s well.
I had the well shut down and ordered a new one to be dug.
When I returned, the baron sent me to the northern villages, saying there had been a monster attack that left many injured.
It seems Baron Brandel truly cares about his people.
[December 13, 1194]
My stomach started feeling off yesterday, and now I have a fever and severe diarrhea.
It’s definitely food poisoning. I knew that meat smelled a little off last night…
At this rate, I might collapse before I even complete my mission.
[December 19, 1194]
I was resting due to illness when the village chief’s wife started nagging me, saying,
“How can a healer fall sick?”
Damn old hag. Maybe try cleaning the house instead.
In a place like this, even a healthy man would end up sick.
If I just quit now, would the marquis be furious?
[December 25, 1194]
I finally recovered from food poisoning and returned to the lord’s castle.
The moment I got back, the lord was hosting some kind of Christmas celebration,
hanging decorations all over a tree and throwing a festival.
The burly knights force-fed me alcohol, and I stumbled back to my quarters completely wasted.
My head is spinning, my eyes are sunken—
…I just want to quit and go home.
[January 8, 1195]
It’s already been three months since I arrived in Baron Brandel’s territory.
I’ve been so busy running between villages and fortresses treating patients
that I’ve had no time to observe the lord’s personality or movements.
It’s exhausting, and I have nothing to show for it.
I pray that the marquis understands my struggles!
[January 22, 1195]
I’ve been sent back to the reconnaissance unit in the Prill Mountain Range.
This time, they’re conducting a deep incursion into the mountain.
Philip, you bastard.
At some point, Yordan’s journal, which had started as an orderly report,
gradually filled with complaints and grievances.
There was frustration about how he never had time to befriend the lord or his retainers,
how he was constantly being sent to remote villages under terrible working conditions.
Again and again, he lamented how difficult everything was and how much he wanted to quit.
And Philip’s name frequently appeared in rants filled with resentment and curses.
The most striking entry came on February 5, 1195:
[…We encountered monsters several times a day. Someone save me!]
Yordan secretly embedded intelligence reports in letters to his family,
thinking he had gone unnoticed.
However, Philip intercepted every single one.
“He’s going to drop dead at this rate.”
Mau, perched above him, chuckled as he read the intercepted reports.
“It’s fine. He was the one who said he wanted to see lots of patients.”
Upon learning that Yordan was a spy planted by Marquis Marteze,
Philip briefly considered eliminating him quietly.
But since the man had made no attempt to access classified information
or cause any real harm to the territory, he changed his mind.
Instead of disposing of him, he decided to squeeze every last bit of medical work out of him.
“I needed a doctor to care for the people anyway. This works out perfectly.”
Nobles could receive treatment from priests,
but commoners and serfs had little access to healing.
Now, like a rural public health doctor in Korea,
a free healer had conveniently appeared to take care of the people.
So Philip resolved to keep running Yordan ragged.
“Isn’t that a little too evil?”
“What’s the problem? He brought this on himself.”
If Yordan truly hated it, he could quit anytime.
Yet despite all his whining, he showed no signs of actually leaving.
Most likely, he was determined to complete his mission for the reward the marquis had promised.
“Hang in there, Yordan. I’ll make sure to work you to the bone.”
Philip’s mischievous smirk stretched across his face as he made his decision.