11.
The Empire was falling apart. Even so, the matter no longer concerned Lancel.
The years he had lived for the glory of the Empire, the battles he had fought in the name of his lordship’s honor, the efforts he had made to be remembered as a great hero—all of that had long since decayed and vanished.
War. Empire. Rebellion. Emperor. Old ties.
All of it had burned away at Lancel’s soul, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. Nothing more, nothing less.
After drifting aimlessly through the long years, what would have become of him if Marigold had not made an appearance in any of his lifetimes? What would he be doing now? How would he have lived?
Lancel just couldn’t imagine it. Just as he had no desire to open a foul-smelling pit, he simply didn’t want to think about it.
Yes.
The reason he was lost in such sentimentality now was, predictably, because of Marigold.
“We need to take the salt elsewhere and sell it. If we keep it here any longer, the Imperial Law will seize it all. If we resist, we’ll be branded as rebels. We have to get rid of it immediately, even if it means selling it at a low price.”
In response to Viscount Dante’s statement, Marigold, who had been silent for a moment, spoke up.
“What if we went to the battlefield to sell our goods?”
Her words brought the Dante family’s dinner to a halt.
“We have enough money and salt, so I could take some people and go straight to the place where the war is happening. What if we sell everything quickly and come back? If we sell it all before it’s taken, we could make a considerable profit…”
“Ahem.”
Viscount Dante held his tongue.
It was true that they could make money using such a tactic. In fact, they might even acquire wealth exceeding anything they had earned before.
In this era and world, the way merchants made money was pretty simple. Buy goods where they were cheap, and sell them where they were expensive. They repeated this process until death.
War zones, in that sense, were prime markets for selling goods at the highest prices. Lancel had already witnessed countless times the number of people who valued money over their lives dragging their carts into these dangerous territories.
If the trains were to shut down soon, the price of salt would skyrocket even further.
The salt would be seized if left alone anyway. It was a simple choice between selling it safely at a low price, or taking the risk to sell it for a higher price elsewhere.
“That’s too dangerous. No one knows what the battlefield is like.”
“Please trust me, Viscount.”
Marigold pounded her chest.
“Give me a chance to repay my debt.”
“I never considered it a favor, Miss Marigold. Was this not all mutually beneficial?”
“I don’t see it that way, Viscount. I believe I owe you. Repaying debts is a true merchant’s virtue, isn’t it? Please think of it as a matter of my honor.”
At 23-years-old, Marigold stood firm, a stark contrast to her wavering self at fifteen, seventeen, nineteen, or even twenty-one.
“I promise to sell the salt and return within a year. Even if I don’t earn as much as expected… it’s better than keeping it and having it all taken away, right?”
Lancel raised his hand to interject.
“I will go with you.”
“No.”
Marigold immediately shook her head.
“…?”
Her reaction was unexpected. Lancel hadn’t anticipated Marigold rejecting his offer to accompany her.
“I don’t want to involve you in something I started, my benefactor. Please trust me, Sir Lancel. I will return with carts full of gold.”
A sense of determination glimmered in her eyes.
It was a very smug look.
‘I was only offering because my vacation was already ruined anyway.’
Madam Nirvia Dante and Viscount Dante, who had been listening quietly, chimed in.
“Yes, you should know the value of your precious life. What’s a knight with no skills doing, acting so bold for?”
“She’s right, Lancel. If the war drags on, we’ll likely be called to it anyway. For now, it’s best to stay put and wait.”
His mother and fathers’ concerns were unfounded.
Though Lancel had been idling at home like a loafer, he actually possessed exceptional skill and experience through his countless lives, enough to survive on the battlefield.
As for the Dante family being summoned to the battlefield, while it was an inevitable eventuality, it wouldn’t happen for at least another two years.
Lancel was certain of this.
‘Since everything will reset in two years anyway, it shouldn’t really matter, right?’
None of them had any way of knowing what Lancel was thinking.
“I’ll bring back every coin on this continent, Sir Lancel. Hehehe.”
“You seem awfully carefree for someone heading to a battlefield.”
“It will be fine.”
Marigold’s smile sparkled from across the hearth.
“I’m the type who thrives in crises. I’ve survived plenty of times already, you know.”
“Sure. Thanks to whom, exactly?”
“Anyway…”
Marigold sidled closer and grasped Lancel’s hand. She glanced at Madam Nirvia Dante, who pretended not to notice as she took a sip of her water.
“I’ll send you letters every day, so please reply to every one.”
Her grip was strong, almost desperate, as if she wanted to imprint the feel of this moment into his memory forever.
“It’s a promise.”
“…Alright.”
‘Hmm.
Did I perhaps let something slip?’
Lancel felt a pang of regret, wondering if Marigold had picked up on his intention to take a “vacation.”
Even Lancel wasn’t that heartless, after all.
.
.
.
“Load everything up!”
“Put the heavy stuff inside first!”
“Hey! Take care of your own luggage!”
After a month of preparations, Marigold’s merchant company finally assembled a large-scale trading caravan.
The procession was so grand that every mercenary in the region flocked to form an escort.
==========
—Special event triggered!! Mary’s Merchant Guild is embarking on a grand trade expedition starting today. Countless dangers and obstacles await her as she traverses mountains and fields, hills and valleys, rivers and seas, forests and grasslands. But perhaps such risks are worth taking to become a wealthy magnate!
※From a being mere porter to becoming the leader of a grand trade expedition—a display of charisma has been unleashed! (Charm, Dignity, Emotions, Stamina, and Allure has gone UP!!!)
==========
“Letters! Please reply to them!”
She waved until her mounted figure disappeared from sight. Marigold rode at the head of the long, winding caravan.
That day, Marigold set out on her grand trade expedition.
12.
The letters began arriving the very next day.
–August 1. Can you believe this? The cart wheel broke on the very first day of travel! Gods above, this is too much! Seeing the clear sky as we repacked the spilled salt and set off again was a small comfort. Even though we’re apart, Sir Lancel, you and I are under the same sky!
Lancel chuckled and immediately picked up his quill, dipping it in ink.
[August 2. A cart wheel is attached to a single axle, so be careful when turning. No need to call on God—it’s just your lack of skill.
(P.S.: Technically speaking, we’re not under the same sky since we’re in different climates. It’s cloudy here.)]
A reply arrived a few days later.
–August 4. I saw several vagrants wandering about. If it weren’t for you, Sir Lancel, would I have ended up like them someday? I’m in no position to complain about a sore backside! Fun fact: if you keep jam in your mouth, you won’t feel hungry for a long time.
(P.S.: Still, we are under the same sky! I believe that!)
[August 7. Wouldn’t you have been hanged before becoming homeless? And the reason you’re not hungry with jam in your mouth is simply because you’re eating it.
(P.S.: It looks like rain is coming, so make sure the salt doesn’t get wet.)]
Lancel didn’t know quite what to think.
It was a strange feeling.
Perhaps because he hadn’t exchanged letters in centuries, Lancel somehow found the stories they shared on these small slips of paper to be comforting, and not at all tedious.
Rather, it was actually interesting.
–August 11. I’m disappointed, Sir Lancel! It’s raining, yet you worry about the salt more than me! Thankfully, our clever merchant guild members handled everything perfectly! Two days ago at dawn, a herd of wild boars appeared. Since we had an abundance of salt, we immediately salted them and turned them into meat. Today was a feast!
(P.S.: I suddenly got curious—why did you embark on that trip?)
[August 16. You’re the one selling salt, so of course I can’t help but worry about it. Always cook wild female boars instead of the males—they taste better.
(P.S.: I exhausted myself quite a bit in the past because of a woman, so I left on this journey to clear my head.)]
The time it took for letters to arrive gradually increased with the distance she traveled, yet strangely, there were moments when Lancel felt, “A letter might come today.”
And more often than not, he was right. A quick glance out the window would reveal a messenger standing before the mansion, a letter in hand, just as always.
–August 22. What’s with these nobles demanding tolls on roads that aren’t even their own territory? After seeing people like Viscount Dante or you, Sir Lancel, encountering such people makes my blood boil!
(P.S.: What kind of woman was she? I couldn’t sleep a wink last night thinking about it. Please tell me who she was, what was your relationship with her, what kind of person was she!)
[August 29. You’re still too naive. The road belongs to whoever blocks it. That is the way of this world. If you don’t like it, then push through with force. They’ll step aside, pretending to be overwhelmed by processions they can’t handle.
(P.S.: Let’s just say she’s a woman I can’t talk about.)]
–September 7. Argh! What kind of woman is she that you can’t talk about her?! I barely managed to forget, but now my head feels like it’s going to explode again! Please don’t say things like that! I’m so sad. Still, I’ll keep moving diligently. I’ll interrogate you when I get back!
(P.S. If I ever return, could you grant me just one wish? It’s nothing big. I managed to get some famous tea leaves from this region. All I ask is that you drink a cup with me.)
[September 16. What strange thing are you trying to feed me?… (omitted)]
After August passed, September, October, and November came and went…
Even as winter arrived, stripping the trees bare, the letters kept coming.
Though the messenger’s round trip grew longer and longer, eventually taking a full month, the letters always found their way to Lancel.
–December 1. It’s finally winter, Sir Lancel. Word is spreading, and the salt and supplies are selling out. The snow mixing with the salt is a real problem! The battlefield is a terrifying place, but if you focus on making money, you quickly forget about it.
(P.S.: I think I’ll be able to return soon. It’s been so long, I almost forgot what your face looked like. I’ll come back as a tycoon, so be prepared, Sir Lancel!)
Lancel had read Marigold’s December letter countless times.
The date had passed well into February, yet no further letters had arrived. News from Marigold had abruptly ceased with the December letter.
It was the year she turned twenty-four.
“Hmm.”
Lancel stroked his chin thoughtfully, pondering what to do.
After all, this iteration would end in just one year. Whether Marigold became a wealthy tycoon or returned with a fortune, it wouldn’t affect him.
If he continued to idle, watching the year fade away, spring would eventually bloom, and June would arrive, lush with new greenery.
Then, he would regress once more.
Soon, he would reunite with Marigold. No matter what form she took, she would be waiting for him somewhere in this world—that is, if she was still alive.
Indeed. There was no need for him to act.
No one was pushing him. There were no constraints, no obligations. No one had ordered him to do anything. There would be no one who would blame him, no one to remember him. In the vast expanse of time, Lancel could simply drift alone, dwelling on a fleeting sense of unease, and be completely forgotten.
—Benefactor!
Nevertheless…
“Young Master? Where are you headed at this late hour?”
Lancel draped a cloak over his shoulders and mounted his horse. The head butler approached him with a puzzled expression.
‘What should I say?’
After a moment’s thought, he replied with a faint smile, “To the place where my last memories lie.”
