The Romance Fantasy Novel MC is Only Into Me

The empire was breaking apart.
But for Ransell, it no longer mattered.

The time he had lived for the empire’s glory, the time he fought for his lord’s honor, the time he strove to be remembered as a great hero — all of that had long since rotted away and turned to ash.
War. Empire. Rebellion. Emperor. Old ties.
All of it had burned his soul, leaving only an empty shell behind. Nothing more, nothing less.

What if Marigold had never appeared to him during that long, drifting time? What would he be doing now? How would he be living?
Ransell could not imagine. Like refusing to open a stinking pit, he simply did not want to think about it.
Yes.

The reason he was lost in sentiment now
was, unsurprisingly, because of Marigold.
“Now we have to take the salt everywhere and sell it. If we just keep piling it up here, the imperial law will seize it all. If we refuse, we’ll be branded traitors. We must dispose of it immediately. Even if it means selling it cheap, we have no choice.”

Marquis Dante’s words hung in the air, and Marigold, silent for a moment, finally spoke.
“What if we sell the goods on the battlefield?”
Her remark stopped the Dante family’s dinner.

“Since we have enough money and salt, I’ll lead people and go directly to where the war is happening. If we sell the goods quickly and return before they seize them, wouldn’t that be good? We could make quite a profit…”
“Ahem.”
Marquis Dante kept silent.

Certainly, it would be profitable. Indeed, they might gain wealth far beyond what they had ever earned before.
In this era, merchants made money in a simple way: buy goods where prices were low, transport and sell them where prices were high. Repeat until death.
War zones were the places where goods sold for the highest prices. Ransell had seen countless people, valuing money over their lives, arrive pulling carts.

If soon the supply lines broke down, salt prices would soar even higher.
Salt that would be seized if left alone—should they sell it safely for a cheap price or take the risk and sell it somewhere more expensive? That was the choice.
“It’s too dangerous. No one knows what the battlefield situation is like.”
“Please trust me, Lord.”

Marigold pounded her chest.
“Give me a chance to repay my debt.”
“I never thought I was doing you a favor, Lady Mary. It was mutually beneficial, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think so, Lord. I think I owe a debt. Repaying debt is the virtue of a merchant, isn’t it? Please think of it as for my credit.”
The twenty-three-year-old Marigold was unwavering. Different from when she was fifteen, seventeen, nineteen, or twenty-one.
“I will definitely sell the salt and return within a year. Even if I make less than expected... it’s better than holding on and having it seized.”

Ransell raised his hand and interrupted.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No.”

Marigold shook her head immediately.
“...?”
It was strange. He did not expect her to refuse his company.

“I don’t want to drag you into the trouble I started. Please trust me, Benefactor. I’ll return with the carriage full of gold coins.”
Determination gleamed in her eyes.
How arrogant.

‘Since this vacation is doomed anyway, I was about to step in.’
Lady and Marquis Dante, who were listening quietly, chimed in.
“Yes, you should value your precious life. What good are you, a useless knight, causing trouble?”

“That’s right, Ransell. If the war drags on, we’ll be called up too. For now, it’s best not to get involved and just wait.”
Their words were needless worries.
Ransell, who had been lounging like a good-for-nothing, actually possessed skill and experience to survive the battlefield.

Though it was certain the Dante family would be called to war, it would not be for at least two years.
Of course,
‘It’s fine since there’s a reset in two years,’

Ransell thought, though they would never know.
“I’ll bring every coin on this continent. Benefactor. Hehehe.”
“The one going to the battlefield sure is carefree.”

“It’s okay.”
Marigold’s smile gleamed beyond the hearth.
“I’m naturally the type who thrives in crises. I’ve survived many times.”

“Indeed. Thanks to whom?”
“Anyway.”
Marigold quietly approached and took Ransell’s hand. She glanced at Lady Dante, who drank her water pretending not to notice.

“I’ll send letters every day, so please reply daily.”
Her grip was strong, as if desperately wanting to imprint the sensation in this moment for a long time.
“It’s a promise.”

“...Alright.”
Hmm.
‘Did I give something away?’

Ransell inwardly wondered if Marigold had read his intention to ‘take a vacation,’ and felt a slight regret.
Even Ransell was not that heartless.
.
.
.

“Load everything up!”
“Put the heavy stuff inside!”
“Hey! Take care of your own baggage!”

After a month of preparations, Mary Guild finally formed a large trade caravan.
The procession was so grand that all local mercenaries gathered as an escort.
==========
—Special Event Triggered!! Marigold’s guild begins the ‘Great Trade Caravan’ today. Mountains, fields, hills, rivers, seas, forests, and plains along her path will hold countless dangers and obstacles. But to become a wealthy magnate, this might be worth enduring!

※She has risen from a caravan porter to leader of the great trade caravan. Her charisma shines. (Charm, Grace, Sensitivity, Stamina, Sex Appeal UP!!!)
“Write letters! Make sure to reply!”
She waved her hand until she disappeared from view, leading the caravan.

Marigold departed on her trade expedition.
 
The letters arrived starting the very next day.
-August 1. Is this even possible? The carriage wheel broke on the very first day, my lord! Oh gods! It’s so unfair! I was consoled a little when I saw clear skies as we repacked the spilled salt and set out. Though apart, you and I are under the same sky!

Ransell smirked and dipped his quill into the ink.
[August 2. The carriage wheels have one axle, so be careful when turning. You’re not looking for a god, you just don’t know how to handle it.]
[PS: Strictly speaking, the climates are different, so it’s not really the same sky. It’s cloudy here.]
Replies came a few days later.

-August 4. I saw some homeless wanderers. Would I have become like them if you weren’t here, lord? I have no time to complain about my sore buttocks! Fun fact: if you have jam in your mouth, you don’t feel hungry for a long time.
-PS: But we are still under the same sky! I believe that!
[August 7. Maybe they were hanged before they became homeless? And the reason jam suppresses hunger is simply because you’re eating it.]
[PS: It looks like rain, so be careful not to ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) get the salt wet.]
It was a strange feeling.

Perhaps because they had not exchanged letters for hundreds of years, Ransell found their correspondence through a small piece of paper somehow not tedious.
Rather, it was interesting.
-August 11. I’m sad, lord! Why worry about salt before me when it’s raining? Luckily, our smart guild members managed well! Two days ago at dawn, a wild boar appeared. Since salt was abundant, it was immediately salted and made into meat. Today is a feast!
-PS: Suddenly curious, why did you leave on your journey, lord?

[August 16. Since I’m selling salt, I can’t help but worry about salt. Wild boar should always be cooked as female, not male. Male tastes really bad.]
[PS: In the past, I spent a lot of stamina because of some woman and left to clear my head.]
As August passed into September, October, November...
Even when winter came and the leaves fell bare from the trees, letters still arrived.

Though the messenger’s round trips grew longer and finally took a month, the letters always reached Ransell.
-December 1. It’s fully winter now, lord. The rumors spread and salt and supplies are selling fast. Snow mixed with salt is a disaster! The battlefield is terrifying, but focusing on making money makes you forget quickly.
-PS: I think I’ll be back soon. I almost forgot your face from seeing you so little. Prepare yourself, lord, because I’ll come back as a wealthy magnate.
Ransell had read the December letter several times already.

The date was well into February. No new letters had arrived. Marigold’s news ended exactly with that letter.
It was the year she turned twenty-four.
“Hmm.”

Ransell stroked his chin thoughtfully. What to do?
After all, if he waited one more year, this loop would end. Whether Marigold became a magnate or returned with a fortune, it would be no concern of his.
If he just lazed around and watched the year pass, spring would bloom, fresh greenery would grow, and June would come.

The day he would reset.
And he would meet Marigold again. She would be waiting for him somewhere in this world in some form — if she hadn’t died.
Yes. There was no need to intervene.

No one pushed him. No constraints or duties. No one ordered him. No one to blame or remember him.
Alone in the time that would be completely forgotten, Ransell could just drift with a fleeting unease.
—Benefactor!

But.
“Young master? Where are you headed at this late hour?”
Ransell wrapped his cloak and mounted his horse. The steward approached with a puzzled look.

What should he answer? After a moment’s thought, he gave a faint smile and replied,
“To the place of my last memory.”