The Banished Black Swordsman Wants a Peaceful Life with the White Saint in the Frontier ~Huh? You Want Him to Come Back with the Saint? It’s Already Too Late~ - 51

Chapter 51: A Small Request

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The road leading toward the southern outskirts lay white and dry, catching the winter sun at a slant. With each hill they crossed, the wind grew colder, and the sensation slowly faded from the fingertips gripping the reins on the driver’s bench.

After descending the second ridgeline, a stone-walled manor came into view, along with a low barn and a wide, open field. The furrows were lined up neatly, and at the edge of them stood a single withered sunflower, its dark disk raised like a flag against the winter sky.

He checked the letter of introduction tucked inside his coat and went around to the gate. When he stood at the doorway and called out, the door opened with a creak, and a heavily wrinkled hand appeared. What emerged was an old man with bony shoulders, and beside him an elderly woman peeking out, her eyes bright at the corners.

“Who might you be?”

“I’m a ‘handyman’ sent by the Barmasty Trading Company.”

As Lloyd gave his greeting, Lusha beside him bowed. Just to be safe, he had told her again today not to speak.

“A ‘handyman’? What’s that supposed to be? We haven’t put in any request here.”

“I wanted to consult you about something. I have a letter of introduction.”

Lloyd held out a sealed envelope. The old man furrowed his brow as he took it, then broke the wax seal. He narrowed his eyes, tracing the lines as he read, and let out a small breath.

“…Ah, from that boy merchant. He works fast, doesn’t he. And it says here you’ve come to talk about seeds.”

“Yeah. We’ve only just started turning our field, and I was hoping you might be willing to share some seeds in preparation for spring.”

At Lloyd’s reply, the elderly woman beside him clapped her hands together softly.

“How admirable, for someone so young. Growing what you eat yourself really is the best way. But you see…”

She cast her gaze toward the field and continued with a troubled expression.

“Last year, small animals kept digging up the field and eating the seeds. No sooner would we sow them than they’d be dug up again. So I’m a bit hesitant to give away any extra seeds.”

“No matter how many times we planted, they’d dig them up overnight. They took the grain and the beans alike. Seeds are as good as money.”

The old man nodded as well, a line of resignation appearing at the corner of his mouth.

I see, so that’s what is happening here..

From the way the elderly couple handled things, it was clear they had protected this field for decades. Expecting them to agree easily would have been unreasonable. As Lloyd searched for a reply, the elderly woman softened her voice.

“Still, if you’d be willing to fill in the holes around the field, I’d be happy to give you what we have left. There are nests all along the edge of the embankment, and they’ve been nothing but trouble.”

“Fill in the holes, huh…”

“Yes. We fixed the fence too, but they just burrow underneath it. You’re young, could you turn the soil and pack it down firmly for us?”

The condition was straightforward. Lloyd nodded immediately.

“Understood. We’ll do it.”

Lusha stepped forward as well and bowed brightly, lowering only her head. She couldn’t speak, so a bow was all she could offer. The elderly couple tilted their heads, looking puzzled by the gesture.

The old man pointed with his chin toward the southern end of the field. It was farther from the manor, bordering the edge of the woods across a single farm path. Perhaps because it lay along a wind corridor, fallen leaves had gathered there, and small holes dotted the ground, gaping open.

“Here. As you can see, the soil’s fragile. No matter how much we fill it in, it’s dug up again by the next morning.”

“There really are a lot of burrow passages.”

Lloyd crouched down and scooped up some soil with his fingers. Dry and damp layers alternated. A faint animal scent brushed his nose—moles, weasels, and small field mice. The tracks weren’t fresh, but if the wind shifted, they’d likely return.

“I understand the situation. We’ll take it from here and see what we can do.”

“Alright then. We’re counting on you.”

The elderly couple turned their backs and headed back toward the house. Whether he used magic or spoke things over with Lusha, having the two of them around would only get in the way. It was better if they were left alone together. Once the couple had moved far enough away, Lloyd and Lusha let out a quiet sigh and exchanged glances.

“Let’s start by circling around from this side and checking them one by one.”

“Yes.”

Lloyd picked up a hoe and a shovel and drove the blade into the soil about a foot out from the edge of a hole. When he turned the earth over, he could see hollow spaces connected beneath the surface. He pushed dried branches into them, confirmed where they dead-ended, and then carefully dropped soil back in so it wouldn’t collapse.

“Lusha, can you handle packing this one down?”

“Yes. I’ll be careful not to harden it too deeply, just the surface…”

After making sure the elderly couple had gone fully inside, Lusha gently knelt down. She placed both hands on the soil and drew in a short breath. A faint light seeped from her fingertips, and the crumbling edge settled instantly. She could feel it through her palms, the grains of earth binding together with a glue-like force.

“Perfect. Let’s keep going like this.”

They cut into the ground, turned the soil, crushed the holes, and packed down the top layer. As their breathing and motions synchronized, their movements naturally fell into a steady rhythm. From time to time, they bundled dried stems and packed them in, stamping them down from above to increase density. At the corners of the embankment, they lined up small stones, smoothing the slope so animals would have trouble forcing their snouts inside.

After covering about half the perimeter, a pile of fallen leaves suddenly rustled. A slender body slipped out from the shadows. Amber eyes, a sharp snout. It was a weasel.

“…Should we get rid of it, just in case?”

Lloyd reflexively reached for the sword at his waist. It was fast. If they let it escape now, it might come back at night. But his sleeve was tugged lightly.

“No. They’re just trying to survive too.”

Lusha spoke gently, as if soothing him. Once she said that, there was no longer any reason to draw his sword. At the edge of his vision, the weasel watched them for a moment, then vanished swiftly into the sea of leaves.

“…You’re right.”

He lowered his hand from the hilt and looked instead at the ground. Their travel routes were fixed. If they prepared foul smells that stung the nose or unpleasant textures underfoot, they might be able to drive them away from the field.

“Instead of exterminating them, how about focusing on keeping them away from the field? We could dig the fence posts deeper and plant repellent herbs alongside them. Strong scents should deter them.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea. At the monastery garden, we planted mint and rosemary around the beds. Animals hate them, and so do insects.”

“I see. Then let’s go with that. We’ll bury bundles along the main entrances. If the wind carries the scent, that should do it.”

They gathered vines from a nearby thicket and wove them into thin, temporary fences. Where the finished fence was shallow, they placed stones and covered the vines with soil to secure them. Lusha took bundles of herbs from the pouch at her waist, drew out their fragrance with a small amount of magic, and buried them shallowly along with the surrounding soil. Not too strong, but sharp enough to sting the nose when the wind shifted. She adjusted it with perfect precision.

“Let’s knock down some branches here too. Even low obstacles will slow them down.”

“Understood.”

They continued working in silence. As the sun slanted lower, the soil grew darker in color. It wasn’t hot, so they didn’t sweat, but their shoulders and arms clearly told them they’d put in a solid day’s work. They filled the final hole, leveled the soil, and buried the bundled herbs. When they finished circling the field, it looked far more orderly than it had that morning.

“We’re done!”

“Good work, Lusha. Thanks.”

“No, thank you as well, Lloyd.”

They brushed the dirt off themselves, stood up, and shared a smile. When they returned to the manor, the elderly couple was waiting at the doorway. The probing tension had faded from their expressions.

“Go on and take a look.”

The elderly woman urged. Prompted by her, the old man stepped down onto the embankment. He prodded the soil with the tip of his cane, checked how firmly it was packed, and narrowed his eyes at the placement of the buried herbs. When he came back, he gave a short nod.

“…Mm. You did well.”

The elderly woman’s face softened, the wrinkles easing into a gentle smile.

“You two are more sincere than I expected.”

“We just did what was asked. It wasn’t anything special.”

Lloyd turned his gaze back toward the field, remembering the slender shadow that had hidden beneath the leaves. Not everything could be solved with a sword. In nature, sometimes what was needed was a way to let things live… And a way to keep them at a distance. He felt like he’d learned that lesson all over again.

“So… You’ll share the seeds with us, right?”

“Of course. A promise is a promise.”

The elderly woman disappeared into the house and soon returned carrying several burlap sacks. The careful stitching spoke of skilled hands. When she opened them, a dry scent wafted out along with glimpses of different colors: round beans, wheat mixed with brown grains, and small herb seeds. Each was tied with a paper label.

“Beans are hardy. Wheat can endure autumn through winter. Herb seeds don’t like wind. These are just what we had left, but the quality’s good. Still, these seeds are picky about soil, so take good care of them.”

“Thank you. We’ll raise them carefully.”

Lusha nodded eagerly in agreement with Lloyd’s words. For someone as polite as she was, it must have been inconvenient not being able to voice her thanks, but there was nothing to be done about that.

“If you run into trouble again in early spring, come by. If my hands are free, I’ll help out.”

The old man sounded curt, but there was warmth beneath his words. Lloyd bowed deeply and carefully loaded the sacks onto the cart. When he returned to the driver’s bench, the elderly woman clapped her hands as if remembering something.

“Oh, and one more thing. If your field’s close to the forest, hang some bells on the fence corners. Even just the sound in the wind will make them wary.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Gripping the reins, he thanked them and left the manor behind. The sound of the gate closing slowly flowed away behind them. The sun leaned toward the mountains, casting long shadows across the furrows. The road back to town had grown quiet. By the time they passed the plaza, market stalls were being taken down, and the bell tower rang out to mark the evening.

There was no need to worry about prying eyes. Lloyd called out to Lusha on the cart bed.

“The front seat’s open. Want to come up?”

“Is that alright? Then I will.”

She climbed up happily and sat beside him, checking the edge of her hood before letting out a soft breath.

“When spring comes, let’s sow them together.”

“Yes! I’m looking forward to seeing them sprout.”

Her profile looked almost childlike in its innocence. Lloyd dropped his gaze to the sacks. The weight of the beans, the lightness of the wheat, the fineness of the herbs—each carried the weight of a future that would take shape beneath the soil.

“When the time comes to harvest, what kind of life do you think we’ll be living?”

The words slipped out before he realized it, sounding surprisingly natural even to himself. Beside him, Lusha tilted her head slightly, then broke into a gentle smile.

“I think it’ll be just like now. Working together like this, eating meals together. I… I hope that’s how it will be.”

“Yeah. Peace and quiet really is best.”

There would be days when he swung his sword. Nights spent confirming escape routes. Even so, mornings spent touching the soil, afternoons driving nails, evenings boiling water. If peace lay at the end of those ordinary days, then it was enough to keep moving toward it, little by little.

The setting sun painted the hills red. The wind pressed against their cloaks, and their shoulders brushed lightly. Lusha didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned just a little closer against Lloyd. The wood of the driver’s bench creaked softly, and the wheels continued their steady rhythm over the stones. Lloyd loosened the reins and guided the horse’s nose toward the road that led to the abandoned village.

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