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[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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Chapter 6: The Storm is Coming
Nova had returned to the White Merchant Guild’s main estate for the first time in a while.
It was to report to the head of the guild—her father, Malek White—that she had accepted a position as advisor to House Cron.
At the age of fifty, Malek looked more like a grandfather than a father to Nova.
With his snow-white hair and warm, gentle face, he resembled the old man who delivers presents in winter.
After hearing Nova’s report, Malek was stunned—first by the shockingly unorthodox policies of the young Lord of House Cron, and then by the fact that Nova had agreed to serve as his advisor.
“How strange. No matter what nobles or lords tried to recruit you, you always stayed focused on the guild. And now you’ve chosen to step into public life.”
“It just turned out that way, Father.”
Nova replied, her expression as cold and composed as always.
Malek was not a bad father—but he was far from an ideal one.
While he had given Nova affection, he had just as persistently pressured her to walk the path ‘he’ had chosen for her.
From roles like chief steward of a prominent noble house to the wife of a powerful noble, he offered positions that would serve the family’s interests—always under the guise of doing it ‘for her future.’
Nova had survived by forging her own way as a merchant.
By proving her worth through her own achievements and becoming a vital asset to the guild, Malek had no choice but to respect her decisions.
More accurately, he was ‘forced’ to respect them.
“It’s your choice, so I won’t object. But tell me one thing…”
“Please, go ahead, Father.”
Whenever Malek spoke like this, it meant he was lowering his guard—asking for an honest answer in return.
Nova met his gaze directly, silently agreeing to the unspoken terms of the conversation.
“From your perspective… what value do you place on this Lord Cron?”
Malek—regardless of anything else—trusted Nova’s insight more than anyone else in the guild.
And when he heard that she had decided to enter public life, curiosity naturally followed.
What kind of value did this young lord from the Cron territory hold?
In the chaos that was sure to come, was he merely someone who could survive?
Or could he go even further—perhaps become a new ruler in the empire?
Malek waited for her answer. Nova gave a bright smile and replied.
“I don’t really know yet.”
“You don’t know!?”
Malek was taken aback by the anticlimactic answer.
His daughter was not someone who spoke without conviction.
“Yes… because Lord Calyx is beyond anything I can measure.”
“That high…?”
Malek was stunned.
He knew full well how little regard Nova had for most nobles and lords.
For her to say that this young man was beyond even her own judgment—he didn’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.
“Oh, but there’s one thing I ‘can’ say with certainty, Father.”
“And what’s that?”
“I don’t know how far Lord Calyx intends to go, but without a doubt…”
A young lord who had suddenly risen from the southern frontier.
One who was slowly gaining recognition through a series of remarkable reforms.
Most dismissed his efforts as youthful overreach—just a phase to solidify his base.
But from Nova’s perspective, his actions were on a different level altogether.
“Without a doubt, he’s going to bring a ‘Storm’ upon the Novarens Empire.”
Of that one thing—Nova had no doubt.
＊ ＊ ＊
“They say a storm is coming.”
It was just another day—chaotic, frenzied, neck-deep in administrative work that had exploded thanks to recent tariff reforms—when Hart brought in a report.
“A storm, you say?”
“Yes. We received word from the Azure Mage Tower yesterday. They predict a strong storm will hit our Cron estate in about a week.”
If Calyx’s memory served right, the Cron estate was located near the sea and was regularly battered by large storms.
I searched Calyx’s memories and asked Hart about our storm preparations.
“I see... Are the preparations going well?”
“Of course, my lord. We’ve reinforced the storerooms, the keep, the salt pans, and the stables with cloth and rope to minimize damage. There’s no need to worry.”
Hart answered with confidence.
By Calyx’s past standards, this level of preparation would’ve been enough.
But ‘I’ wasn’t satisfied with that anymore.
“What about the common folk? Are they prepared?”
“Yes, absolutely, my lord. We’ve informed the villagers about the incoming storm, and we’ve made sure they also have cloth and rope to protect their homes.”
It seemed Hart had adapted to the new ‘me’.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
“That’s it?”
“Sorry?”
In my previous life, my family home was near the ocean.
So I know—I know—from experience.
If the storm hits and all we’ve done is what Hart mentioned... some of the villagers ‘will’ die.
“What about seawall maintenance? Emergency shelters? Drainage systems?”
“Those haven’t been addressed yet…”
Hart looked rattled.
I couldn’t blame him. I’d never pressed him this hard before.
I'd always held back, guided by a sense of duty and restraint—my inner Confucian dragon, so to speak. But this time, I couldn't afford to.
“As of this moment, storm prep is our estate’s highest priority. Drop ‘everything else’. Mobilize every available worker. Pull the knights from their training and put them on storm preparation duty. Understood?!”
“Y-Yes, my lord! Understood!”
I had no idea what kind of expression I was making.
But judging from the way Hart went pale and practically fled the office—yeah, it must’ve been ‘something.’
Outside the window, the sky over the estate was already growing dark.
A sign that the storm was indeed on its way.
“A storm, even in another world… Fucking great.”
In my past life—and in this one—I’ve always hated storms.
＊ ＊ ＊
Barron, who worked at the Cron family’s salt fields, was currently living through the happiest days of his life.
Thanks to the lord doubling wages, he’d finally been able to move out of his parents’ house and get a new place for himself, his wife, and their children.
And that wasn’t all.
By some kind of miracle—’or maybe literal magic’—the prices in the market had dropped drastically.
Thanks to that, Barron could now feed his family proper meals with real bread and meat at every sitting.
Even better, the marketplace was full of clothes, toys, and alcohol he’d never seen before.
The prices were so affordable that he could buy his wife and kids the things they wanted and still enjoy time together as a family.
It all felt like a dream—especially when he thought back to last year, when the salt fields would shut down on stormy days and he had to feed his kids watery gruel, barely enough to survive.
“Alright! Let’s get to work!”
“Let’s go!”
That day was no different—he headed off to the salt fields with his friend, Leon.
But when they arrived, something was off.
Instead of heading inside, everyone was gathered out front.
Barron and Leon joined them, where they found elder Sola, the overseer of the salt farm.
“Good, looks like everyone’s here.”
“What’s going on, Mister Sola? Is something wrong?”
“Got an official notice from the lord’s castle. Let’s see here... It says a storm’s coming in about a week.”
“A storm!?”
At the word ‘storm’, everyone's faces went pale.
Storms in the Cron territory were infamous for their ferocity.
Just last year, one ripped the roof clean off Barron’s house—his family had barely made it out unharmed. Some workers hadn’t been as lucky, losing loved ones in the chaos.
“So, by order of the lord, from now on we’re switching to storm prep. All salt production is on hold. We’re to focus entirely on preparation.”
“The ‘lord’ gave that order?”
“That’s right. The knights will be coming to help too. Supplies like ropes and tarps will be provided—anyone who needs some can head up to the castle.”
Even the previous lord had taken measures against storms—but never to this extent. He never sent knights, or handed out equipment.
Barron was genuinely touched that Lord Calyx would go this far for them.
Just then, Leon nudged him with a practical question.
“So... what about our wages?”
“Let’s see… Says here the lord has ordered everyone to be paid as usual. So no worries there.”
“No way! We’re getting paid too?!”
“Long live the lord!!”
Barron could barely believe it. It was already generous to get supplies and support—but to still receive daily wages on top of that?
Barron genuinely believed Lord Calyx must have been sent by the heavens.
Once the announcement was done, elder Sola stepped forward again.
“Alright. We need to divide up the work. Team leads, step forward.”
Barron, along with the other salt field team leaders, stepped up to receive their assignments.
Some would work on drainage construction, others on seawall repairs, or securing homes and salt fields with ropes and tarps.
Everyone threw themselves into the effort—to protect what little they had.
Lord Calyx personally inspected the estate, going around and checking the preparations with his own eyes.
Nova followed alongside him and eventually asked—
“My lord… Are you afraid of the storm?”
“Of course I am. Aren’t you?”
“It’s scary, but I wouldn’t say I’m afraid. I figure as long as I stay inside, I’ll be fine.”
Nova had seen a storm hit before.
She remembered the wind and rain howling like they’d rip the world apart. She was terrified and had locked herself inside until it passed.
Calyx seemed to read the experience behind her words and spoke quietly.
“Then you’ve been blessed.”
“B-Blessed?”
Nova was stunned.
Very few people knew she had a ‘blessing’. Did he know?
Just as she started to wonder, Calyx continued.
“For those who have nothing, a storm is no different than the wrath of the gods. Remember that, Nova.”
‘Ah. That kind of blessing.’
Nova exhaled and pressed a hand to her chest.
“Understood, my lord. I’ll remember that.”
There was something about the way Calyx spoke—as if he had lived the life of a commoner, suffered their hardships, survived the storms.
Nova found herself curious.
What exactly had he gone through in his past?
She decided to ask him someday. But for now, she changed the subject.
“Still, with preparations this thorough… I doubt anything serious will happen.”
“I hope you’re right…”
Everyone in the estate who could work was pitching in.
With this level of preparation, surely nothing would go wrong.
At least—that’s what Calyx kept telling himself.
But deep down… he couldn’t shake the feeling.
That something bad was coming.
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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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