Last Minute Translations

“Your Highness will no longer be able to smile.”

 

The magician’s tone was as soft as a lullaby.

 

“Your Highness will no longer be able to get angry. Any burning fury will either consume your insides or be channeled into the blade aimed at your enemies.”

 

After he pronounced an irreversible sentence, the magician drew a line with a bloodstained brush across the split-open chest of Bertram, the prince of the kingdom.

 

Each stroke of the brush made the stone embedded in Bertram’s heart twitch. The bone of a dragon. From now on, that would become his aorta.

 

Just before closing his chest, the magician spoke again, in a slightly sad tone. “Your Highness will no longer be able to cry. Even on the day you receive your father’s body from the battlefield and hold a funeral, you will not shed a single tear.”

 

“That’s fine. That will only make me a stronger warrior.”

 

Bertram, a boy of only sixteen, spoke with firmness. Beneath his black hair, his sea-blue eyes reflected unyielding determination.

 

It was this resolve that made him willing to throw himself into the battlefield.

 

The magician, drawing the final line, added one last warning.

 

“The people want a strong leader, but they also fear one without emotions. Even if you win the war, you may never sit on the throne.”

 

“Even if I bring victory?”

 

“Yes. When you fail to cry before the late king’s body, the people will call you a monster.”

 

Bertram couldn’t understand those words.

 

But now, he could no longer express even confusion on his face.

 

With a bitter smile, mourning the prince’s fate, the magician stitched his chest closed.

 

***

 

Six years after the day the prince threw himself into battle.

 

The war ended in defeat.

 

The kingdom was left in ruins, and many young men never returned home.

 

The people, having lost even the means to support themselves, were paralyzed by despair.

 

To calm the chaos, Duke Seidel, the late king’s younger brother, took the throne.

 

Though the prince had come of age during the war, few opposed Duke Seidel’s coronation.

 

Publicly, it was because he had fulfilled the king’s duties during wartime.

 

In truth, no one wanted to serve a monster obsessed with the sword and devoid of emotions.

 

Even at the former king’s funeral, Prince Bertram did not cry. His emotionless, wintry blue eyes were as stormy as the sea.

 

The only time he seemed alive was when he fought like a beast on the front lines.

 

To the people, he was a living reminder of the war.

 

Eventually, Duke Seidel decided to remove this troublesome nephew from political affairs.

 

Thus, the prince was granted an unexpectedly long leave…

 

***

 

Three years later.

 

A stern female voice rang out across a vast potato field in the countryside.

 

“Do you have any last words!?”

 

“What? You’re going to kill us just for stealing a few potatoes?!” The two thieves looked up, dumbfounded.

 

But the farm manager, Anna, did not waver and continued seriously.

 

“These potatoes are to feed the villagers. By stealing them, you were essentially trying to starve over a hundred residents.”

 

“That’s ridiculous! It’s just a few pota— Ack!”

 

Anna swung her pickaxe through the air. Her green eyes flashed through messy blond hair. There was a murderous glint unbefitting her petite and cute country girl appearance.

 

“Are you mocking the potatoes, or me?”

 

“W-We get it! We’ll give them back!”

 

The men hastily pulled the dirt-covered potatoes from their pockets. But the pickaxe didn’t lower.

 

In the end, they jumped in place to show their pockets were empty and glanced around nervously.

 

“Okay, we’re done now, right? Can we go?”

 

“Not yet. Pay the fertilizer fee.”

 

“…What?”

 

“You trampled the field. Either pay up or leave some dung behind.”

 

At first, the men snorted in disbelief.

 

But Anna’s serious expression silenced them.

 

This woman’s nuts.

 

The hesitation proved costly.

 

Anna pointed her pickaxe at their belt buckles.

 

“Want me to help you strip?”

 

Of course, the men fled in terror.

 

“AAAH! She’s crazy!”

 

“Don’t come back, you bastards! Next time I’ll skin you and stuff you like scarecrows!”

 

Once the men were out of sight, Anna collected the potatoes on the ground and descended from the field.

 

It had already been three years since the war ended in defeat.

 

Taxes remained heavy, amputees had no work, and villages struggled from labor shortage.

 

That’s why Anna usually turned a blind eye to thieves. Sometimes, she even gave them vegetables in exchange for odd jobs.

 

But the two men just now weren’t ordinary thieves.

 

They were definitely looking for treasure in our village.

 

In the post-war chaos, strange rumors abounded.

 

The blood-crazed prince killing his own people, missing soldiers devoured by enemies…

 

And among them was a tale of buried treasure in this village’s communal farm.

It’s just good farming land. That’s probably how the rumor started. Only idiots would believe it.

 

If someone digs here again, should I kick them down and bury them? For fertilizer? 

 

Chuckling at the thought, Anna returned to the village, only to find a disturbing scene before her eyes.

 

Young men from the village were threatening a lone man right in front of her restaurant!

 

Anna rushed over and grabbed the sleeve of the boy with a raised fist.

 

“What are you doing, fighting in front of my restaurant!?”

 

“Oh, Anna. Just look at this guy, suspicious as hell, just sitting there and refusing to move! He spouts nonsense when we ask him anything!”

 

“So you punch him? Step aside! If he’s our guest, I’ll deal with it.”

 

The boys grudgingly stepped back, still bristling.

 

Then, the man they had been harassing came into view.

 

For a moment, Anna understood their reaction.

 

No wonder they mistook him for a bear looking for honey.

 

The man was enormous. Even crouching, he looked like a boulder. His dark blue fur cloak added to the intimidation.

 

But her worry vanished the moment he looked up.

 

Under a rugged brow, his eyes were a serene lake-blue. His short black hair was dusted with dirt.

 

What captivated Anna most wasn’t his chiseled jawline, but his hollow cheeks that made it look even sharper.

 

Anna's eyes softened with sympathy.

 

The young man noticed the shift in her gaze.

 

‘No. Not again. Anna is going to try and fatten up another stray…’

 

Sure enough, she grabbed the stranger’s sleeve.

 

“Hey, you!”

 

“…Yes?”

 

His voice was dignified but dry.

 

It sounded like sand would fall from his mouth with every word.

 

The villagers stepped back. Only Anna crouched before him.

 

“You must be famished. Come to my restaurant. I’ll feed you.”

 

“I don’t need food. What I need is—”

 

“It’s free! Just eat! I picked up some potatoes on the way here. I’ll have to throw them out if no one eats them!”

 

Anna waved the potatoes the thieves had tried to steal.

 

Perhaps her ridiculous lie worked.

 

The man, expressionless even when threatened, followed her to the restaurant.

 

As he rose, the villagers instinctively shrank back.

 

They expected him to be big, but standing up, he was a head taller than most young men. Two heads taller than Anna.

 

His shoulders were so broad that they could replace a door.

 

Anna, however, had a different thought.

 

How much do I have to feed him before he looks healthy?

 

She realized potatoes alone wouldn’t cut it.

 

After seating him, she pulled out extra ingredients: thick-sliced bacon, cheese, and even some wine.

 

Once the food was ready, the man reached out with his huge hands, without even saying thanks.

 

He didn’t smile or frown as he ate. It was more like feeding than dining.

 

Anna wondered if she’d served him mud instead of food.

 

The bacon was thick and crispy, the fat should’ve melted delightfully in the mouth, but he barely chewed.

 

He finished the meal and finally spoke in a more stable voice.

 

“Hello. I’m Bertram.”

 

“Wow, cool name! I’m Anna Wirth! I manage the communal farm and run this restaurant. How was the meal?”

 

“Yes. It was good nourishment.”

 

Anna’s face twisted.

 

Did this guy really just say that after eating so much? Not even a single ‘It was delicious”?

 

Even as Anna’s face crumpled like a walnut, Bertram calmly rummaged through his belongings and handed her a tattered, bloodstained piece of paper.

 

Anna squinted, reluctant to touch it.

 

“Loan agreement… repayable after the war…?”

 

“Yes. It should have been filled out on official paperwork, but I used a spare sheet in the field. It holds legal weight.”

 

It was full of complex legal jargon and didn’t even include the borrower’s name.

 

But the lender’s name was clear.

 

Hans Wirth.

 

That was Anna’s father.

 

“Hans Wirth? That is my father!”

 

“Then, I have found the right place. Where is he?”

 

“Well… he passed away a few years ago. I’ll accept repayment. What item was it?”

 

Trying to keep the mood light, Anna smiled.

 

But Bertram didn’t react to the news of Hans’ death. No condolences, not even a flicker of surprise.

 

What is with this guy?

 

Anna was thrown off, but was met with an even more obscure situation.

 

“The item I need to repay was lost.”

 

“…What?”

 

“So I intended to ask Mr. Hans Wirth the value of the item. It looked like this. Do you recognize it?”

 

Bertram sketched the item on the back of the paper.

 

A fist-sized bulb with two green horns…

 

“An onion?”

 

“It is not an onion. Mr. Wirth said it was a special bulb prepared for his farm. Do you know what it is?”

 

“…No clue. Doesn’t seem like anything we need.”

 

Receiving a mysterious plant she didn’t recognize wouldn’t help her.

 

Anna shook her head.

 

“You don’t need to repay it. Don’t feel pressured—”

 

“I must repay it.”

 

“…What?”

 

“I am determined to fulfill this debt.”

 

His blank face and flat tone made it sound like a declaration of war. Even Anna, who normally smacked lazy men without hesitation, flinched.

 

“Well… it’s not like we even want the thing, just eat your food and go…”

 

“Do I look incapable of repaying a debt?”

 

“That’s not what I meant!”

 

“Then name a price. I will meet it. I can repay in cash, goods, or services.”

 

Is he seriously bargaining with me right now?

 

Her fear quickly turned into irritation.

 

But Bertram didn’t notice. In fact, he kept making things worse.

 

“Your intentions are irrelevant. Just name an amount. I will repay it in your preferred manner.”

 

“Oh, thank you so much, I’m so honored!”

 

“Don’t feel burdened.”

 

That one sentence broke all of Anna’s patience.

 

In the end, she bunched up her anger and shouted: “Then pay with your body!”