HTLCCBFT Chapter 18

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 18

“Someone has an answer?”

Listening to Ed’s report during his meal, Oliver was rather pleased. “Good. Bring them to see me.”

He had spent the entire day chopping trees in the forest, harvesting enough experience points to level up once and 2.5 stacks of wood. It could truly be called a bountiful harvest.

Although he couldn’t say why, mechanically repeating the same action didn’t make him feel bored or annoyed. On the contrary, he found it strangely addictive.

If it weren’t for the fact that it was getting dark and staying in the forest at night was too dangerous, Oliver, who still felt like he hadn’t had enough, would have wanted to keep chopping until the game system’s mandatory bedtime.

Ed, however, did not immediately leave to carry out the order. Instead, he said hesitantly, “Your Highness, but it’s just a little girl who’s only seven years old. And she’s a slave!”

If it weren’t for the fact that no one had been confident enough to pass the God of Wealth’s trial all day, and that Lucy’s circumstances were truly pitiful, and that she had knelt before him, begging and pleading, and even staked her own life on it… Ed would never have dared to mention something so seemingly childish to the Lord.

“Only seven?” Oliver was a little surprised, but the next moment, his face broke into a smile. “If that’s true, then all the better. Bring her here.”

A little girl from a slave background would have had absolutely no opportunity to receive any decent education.

If she could really find the answer to the question he had left, she was either incredibly lucky or exceptionally gifted.

At the very least, she could be praised for her commendable courage.

So Oliver thought.

Once he felt slightly full and saw that his stamina bar had recovered by a third, he stopped eating and bestowed the remaining food upon his subordinates standing by his side.

In the eyes of the world, being able to eat food their master had touched was a reward that only the most loyal and capable subordinates could possibly receive.

Fosse and Noel, as usual, showed reserved yet happy smiles and accepted it without hesitation.

Oliver did not have to wait long before Ed brought Lucy to him.

Of course, Lucy, who didn’t even have a single decent piece of clothing and was so filthy you could hardly tell she was a girl, could not be brought directly into the Lord’s reception hall.

Sighing, Ed had kindly lent a hand.

He had hurriedly taken Lucy back to his own home, where his wife used hastily warmed, lukewarm water to roughly scrub off the caked-on layers of mud, revealing the wheat-colored skin underneath.

Her tattered clothes, which were in a disgraceful state, certainly couldn’t be seen by the Lord.

So, Ed’s wife gritted her teeth and took out the semi-new dress and small cloth shoes she had recently bought for her own young daughter, and put them on Lucy.

When a completely transformed Lucy, with her damp, light-chestnut hair draped over her shoulders, stood before him trying her best to remain calm, Ed didn’t even recognize her as the slave girl he had brought in. He was given a terrible shock.

“What a pretty girl,” Ed couldn’t help but remark, then added with a sigh, “I hope you’re not just talking nonsense. Otherwise… hmm.”

He had originally thought that perhaps this was all a lie fabricated by the destitute slave girl, who was betting her life in an attempt to win the Lord’s favor with her looks.

If it were any of the eight previous lords of Laina City, who had been lost as if by a curse, Lucy would indeed have had a chance to get ahead. But the thought of His Highness Oliver’s magnificent beauty…

Ed’s mind wandered for a moment.

—Even a properly cleaned and dressed-up Lucy would be nothing more than an inconspicuous blade of grass standing before that radiant Angel Duke.

Having already delayed for a short while, Ed didn’t dare keep the Lord waiting and immediately brought Lucy into the castle.

Stepping into the castle for the first time, the veins on the back of Lucy’s left hand, which was clutching her skirt, bulged with tension.

The carpet was soft, a precious gift from the old king that had traveled with His Grace the Duke’s carriage all the way to the distant Laina City for his new post.

As Lucy bowed, the corner of her eye caught sight of a pair of exquisitely crafted boots, inlaid with sparkling gems, resting on the carpet. She also saw the slender, well-proportioned legs they were attached to, wrapped in tight-fitting riding breeches.

She dared not look any further.

After bowing twice in trepidation, she stood near the middle of the room, waiting for the Lord to question her.

After Steward Fosse had publicly and brutally whipped the supervisor Andison—oh, no, the former supervisor, now the slave Andison—who had dared to be disrespectful to the Lord, all the slaves were left with an extremely deep impression of the few points this cold and decisive steward had made.

When you see His Highness, you must bow properly, you must look His Highness in the eye, and you must wait for His Highness to speak first.

She had never been this close to the angel Lord before!

Lucy’s heart was beating so fast it felt out of control, as if it would leap out of her throat at any moment, and she had to struggle to swallow it back down.

Her legs, which she tried so hard to keep together, trembled uncontrollably, as did her teeth—she had to clench her jaw tightly to stop them from making an unpleasant chattering noise.

She knew very well that her body’s reaction was not because this Lord was frightening.

Quite the opposite, in fact. Being gazed at with a hint of a smile by those eyes, clearer and more beautiful than sapphires, she felt only a warmth and gentleness one could find under the bright sun.

Steward Fosse, who the supervisors had called “terrifying” and “unfeeling,” simply sat quietly to one side, his expression stern but calm.

She had never dreamed that she, a slave, could actually be treated so gently by someone so noble and pure…

Lucy blinked hard, forcing her hot tears back.

What truly frightened her was the thought that her answers might not pass the Cat God’s trial. If that happened, would this beautiful Lord show a look of disappointment?

Of course, Oliver was not like some perverted lords who would stare incessantly at a young girl in a skirt.

He simply gave Lucy a brief look.

She was rail-thin, with a timid expression. Her skin was tanned to the color of wheat, her hands were covered in thick calluses, and a web of whip marks, both faint and deep, crisscrossed her skin. There was no telling how many beatings she had endured.

He let out a soft sigh.

—A typical child of a slave family.

Unlike the children of commoners, who could still have a short period of childhood mischief before being considered adults at the age of twelve, slaves were slaves from birth. They had to contribute to the lord’s property and had not the slightest right to be willful.

“Your name is Lucy, right?”

Oliver smiled gently, his gaze fixed on her. Her eyes had widened, her expression one of flattered astonishment. “What is your answer?” he asked in a warm voice.

Lucy’s head was spinning.

How could she have ever dared to imagine that this archangel, so beautiful he seemed to sparkle, would utter her name in such a gentle and lovely voice!

Oh, revered Cat God, great Cat God, please grant my wish.

After praying silently in her heart several times, Lucy answered haltingly, “Y-Yes. I am Lucy. God bless you, my great lord.”

Then she took a deep breath and, under the silent encouragement of those exceedingly beautiful blue eyes, gave her answer. “I swear on my life to the great Cat God that no matter how absurd it may sound, everything I am about to say is true. Please, believe me, my lord.”

Oliver nodded slightly, signaling for her to continue.

Only after receiving permission did Lucy slowly begin her account. “I saw it with my own eyes. When I was younger, my father used to work on the plot of land closest to the Laina River. Sometimes, he would fish out old planks from shipwrecks that had drifted down the river. Because everything on the estate is the lord’s property, he would hand them over to the supervisor after collecting them.”

How could the supervisor possibly have any interest in planks that were both damp and rotten from being soaked in the river for so long? He had immediately gestured impatiently for her father to throw them away.

But Lucy’s father couldn’t bear to discard the rotten planks.

Every blade of grass and every tree in the forest belonged to the lord. As slaves, they were as lowly as dust, lacking even the right of freemen to gather fallen branches from the ground.

Meanwhile, the straw roof of their home had mostly collapsed due to the heavy rains, yet they had no materials to repair it.

With this in mind, Lucy’s father refused to give up on them. He gathered all the planks everyone else had scorned and laid them out to dry in the sun in a hidden corner.

But there was simply too much moss on the surface. After scraping most of it off with a stone, the wood still felt soft and rotten to the touch. So, he came up with a makeshift solution.

Roasting.

After listening to Lucy’s tale, which would have sounded preposterous to anyone else, Oliver’s eyes lit up.

The corners of his lips curved upward into a smile of approval.

What Lucy’s father had accidentally discovered—that “the surface of charred driftwood is pitch-black, but it possesses better resistance to moisture and rot”—was actually a common technique in modern architecture: “yakisugi” [mfn]also known as shou sugi ban in the west- an ancient Japanese technique for preserving wood by charring its surface.[/mfn]

The substance in lumber that provides the most strength is the cellulose deep within, but the substances that attract insects, absorb moisture, and cause decay are the hemicelluloses in the middle and outer layers.

By using incomplete combustion—high temperature and low oxygen—to destroy the hemicellulose, the surface of the wood undergoes a thorough heat treatment, thereby granting the lumber a longer period of resistance to rot and moisture.

“Very good.”

Oliver considered for a moment, then smiled at the little girl nervously awaiting his verdict.

“The answer you’ve given is very similar to what the God of Wealth described in the oracle. So, Lucy,” he asked her earnestly, showing no disdain or condescension despite her age and status, “you are the only one who has seen with your own eyes how your father burned that wood. To pass the Cat God’s trial completely, you will need to recreate what he did and teach it to the others who have not received the wisdom gifted by the God of Wealth… Once you have done all this, I will grant you an even better reward. Are you willing to try?”

“My dear Lord, I am willing!”

Lucy answered without hesitation, dropping to her knees with a thud. Mustering all her courage, she asked in a small voice, “But, my Lord, if I can really do it, may I not have a house and a salary as my reward?”

Fosse, who had been listening quietly from the side, narrowed his eyes at her words.

Just as the old butler was about to reprimand the impertinent and audacious girl, he received a look from his kind and gentle young master, and could only sit back down with a stern face.

“Lucy,” Oliver asked with a smile, “then what is the reward you desire?”

Lucy trembled all over, but she still managed to voice the longing in her heart. “I, I want… even without any pay, I want to stay in the castle and be a maid.”

—Having once bathed in the warm sunlight, she only wanted to stay, at any cost, in a place where she could see the sun every day.

---