Chapter 51 – The Youngest Daughter of the Count’s Family (14)
They say only true love can find the treasure, but it’s just a gimmick riddled with loopholes.
Was the protagonist the only one with true love?
‘That’s an insult to love.’
It dismisses couples who love one man, one woman, 100%.
If the protagonist’s love is evenly split among her men, it’s maybe 12% each?
Think of food.
Loves ramen, loves jajangmyeon, loves noodles, loves spaghetti, loves naengmyeon…
At that point, she just loves all noodles, right?
‘A protagonist who likes any handsome man who’s kind to her is “true love”? That’s blasphemy against love!’
Rustle~
Yet countless couples who loved only each other couldn’t find the hut—while the protagonist did.
So “true love” is nonsense; anyone meeting specific conditions can find it. Logical suspicion, no?
‘Chocolate, cake, coffee, swimming, race, winner, man, woman.’
Some conditions were surely unnecessary, but I didn’t care to verify.
We found it—that’s enough.
“Lord Baron, is the treasure inside the hut?”
“No, Lady Valentine. There’s a well nearby. The legendary sword is inside.”
The hut is stocked for the protagonist and her men to ‘play house’.
Laundry, cleaning, cooking, childcare…
An episode where the noble men, clueless about chores, learn from the protagonist.
A heartwarming scene of them clumsily doing housework and laughing.
The legendary sword is just a bonus!
The pacifist author tossed in a weapon—that’s my goal.
“Oh! A well…?”
“Let’s check.”
“Have you been here before, Lord Baron?”
“No. If I had, I wouldn’t have wandered all day.”
“Good.”
“Hm?”
“N-Nothing!”
“…Let’s look.”
Deep in the dark well, a blade-like object gleamed.
“Hm…”
How to retrieve it?
Lady Valentine pointed to a tool.
“That should work.”
“…Right.”
A rope with a hook like a fishing gaff lay conveniently beside the well.
‘Practically screaming “use me”!’
Plop!
I easily fished out the sleeping treasure.
But…
“It’s… beautiful…”
“Not tacky?”
The guard between blade and hilt was a ‘pink heart’! With a tiny red heart gem inside.
‘Can’t wield this!’
Still, performance first.
Slice— Crack!
A massive ruin rock split like pudding, no resistance.
Whew~♪
I whistled instinctively.
The blade wasn’t razor-thin, yet absurd cutting power.
Fantasy is fantasy.
“Too sharp—worried about a proper scabbard.”
“Then?”
“Wrap the blade in cloth, tie it tight. Custom scabbard from a master smith later.”
“Then get cloth and string from the hut— Huh?”
Poof!
The legendary sword vanished from my hand.
‘Where’d it go?!’
Not in the novel—more baffling.
No—never mentioned again. The sword was just proof of the protagonist’s “true love”; its use ended there.
“It… disappeared.”
“…”
Depressed.
“Lord Baron, don’t dwell. We confirmed the legend with our own eyes?”
“Sigh… Found it after all that—”
Poof!
Before I finished lamenting, the sword reappeared.
“…”
“…”
Defying physics, both I and the fantasy native gaped.
“How did you do that?”
“It wasn’t me…”
Poof!
I realized I could summon the legendary sword at will.
“No need for a scabbard, then?”
“…Quite right.”
“Baron Amolang, my heartfelt congratulations. You’ve become the legend’s master.”
“Uh… thank you.”
Still dazed by the recurring fantasy, I quickly composed myself and told Lady Valentine.
“Goal achieved—let’s leave. They’re waiting outside.”
“Yes.”
We ignored the hut, a shrine to the author’s desires, and headed out.
Rustle~
But the hut reappeared!
I briefly suspected a different hut, but the hook by the well was in the same spot.
We’d looped back.
“…Strange.”
“…Let’s try again.”
Rustle~
No matter the direction, we returned to the hut.
Running, turning mid-way, splitting up…
Every effort ended at the hut.
“Lord Baron, we’re trapped.”
“This… is unexpected.”
“No escape?”
“There must be a way out. We just don’t know it.”
“My opinion: clues might be in the unexplored house.”
“…Fine. Let’s check.”
No better plan—I followed her lead.
***
A large hut that could house ten strong men and the protagonist with room to spare.
Inside was a mess.
“Dust on the floor. Dishes undone.”
The horrific interior, seen the moment we opened the unlocked door, made me frown.
“Investigate now?”
“You take upstairs. I’ll check the first floor.”
“Yes, Lord Baron.”
I knew no escape clues existed, but I couldn’t just give up.
Kitchen, bath, bedroom, storage…
Too many inconsistencies for a long-abandoned house.
Especially,
“Even if liquor doesn’t spoil, raw meat and vegetables are too much!”
I laughed bitterly at the absent creator.
Grrrowl.
“…Sorry.”
I failed to grasp the author’s deep intent—prioritizing the protagonist’s survival and romance over realism!
To appease hunger, I grabbed ample food from storage and headed to the kitchen.
‘To survive, no choice.’
If I wasn’t eating with unwashed hands, dishes had to be done.
Fetched water from the well…
Clatter clatter.
Washed dishes with unknown detergent.
“Oh! Let me!”
Lady Valentine, finishing upstairs, rushed to help.
“Almost done. Just wipe the table.”
“…Yes.”
Opened sealed windows for ventilation, cleaned dust-covered chairs.
Then?
“Y-You can cook too, Baron Amolang?”
“Barely. If you’re confident, I’ll yield…”
“No. I just throw anything in soup and season.”
She bowed her head.
“Cooking isn’t required. Your swordsmanship is exceptional—no need to be ashamed.”
“…I always thought so, but today feels odd.”
“Rest.”
“…”
Feeling her gaze on my back, I unleashed cooking skills forced-learned for solo living.
‘Never thought I’d use them here.’
Practiced knife work for restaurant jobs, memorized seasonings and recipes.
Difference now?
No faucet, no stove—had to go outside for fire.
Tap!
“Eat. Tell me if it’s bland.”
“…Thank you.”
Coffee beans were in storage, but too much hassle—grabbed only beer and wine.
Glug glug!
Filled two glasses and proposed to Lady Valentine.
“Toast?”
“Yes.”
“To safe escape! Cheers!”
“Cheers. For you, Lord Baron.”
Clink!
I love the toast my swimming coach taught on steak day.
When clear glasses of liquid touch with a crystalline ring, it feels like souls connect.
Still true now.
“Lady Valentine, thank you for trusting and following me.”
“I’m the one… honored to serve you.”
“Can we overdrink today?”
“It’s safe here.”
Clink!
We enjoyed the mellow atmosphere with drinks.
***
“Ugh… huh? What?”
I tried to sit up, but something heavy pinned me.
Cracking my eyes open…
Snore…
“…”
Lady Valentine slept beside me, limbs draped over my chest and thighs.
‘What happened last night…?’
Nothing, by my memory. I mixed beer and wine, got drunk fast, and went to bed first.
Meaning she climbed in after I was asleep.
“…”
I once invited Song Sun-young home to stop her suicide and shared a bed.
But I gave her the mattress and slept on the floor—no issue.
Thump thump!
Now my heart strained.
“…Awake?”
“Huh? You weren’t sleeping?”
Lady Valentine opened her eyes—bright and clear, not sleepy.
“I slept.”
She’d woken early and meditated with eyes closed.
“But why…”
“On guard duty.”
“Ah!”
“…Was I uncomfortable?”
“Of course not. Just startled waking to a beautiful lady inches away.”
“…Lord Baron.”
“Yes.”
“I believe in the legend.”
“That’s— Mmph?!”
Her surprise kiss banished all sleep.
***
I fixed my disheveled clothes and left the bedroom, startled by men’s voices from the kitchen.
“Good morning, Lord Baron!”
“Up earlier than expected.”
“Could’ve stayed longer…”
Lady Valentine’s squire and retinue ate my leftovers, greeting me.
The fantasy barrier gone?
Didn’t matter.
“Your faces are lewd. What are you imagining?”
“Hehe…”
“Hoho…”
They answered with creepy smirks—as if you don’t know.
Then,
“Lord Baron, shouldn’t we show them our search wasn’t in vain?”
Lady Valentine, descending, spoke wisely.
“Right. Attention! Watch!”
Poof!
I summoned the legendary sword, raising it high.
“Gasp! The legendary sword?!”
“The rumor was true!”
“Congratulations!”
Poof!
I dismissed it, grinning.
“Thank you.”
But it didn’t sound like congratulations for the sword.
…My imagination?
“Sit, Lord Baron. Warm soup will calm your nerves.”
“Yes.”
“Any other plans?”
“None.”
The author hid more treasures for the protagonist—mirror of an ancient queen, mermaid’s ring, witch’s necklace, goddess’s earrings…
Useless for war.
“Then shall we head back right away?”
“Of course. The duke must be frantic by now.”
After all, the protagonist’s wedding was only two weeks away.