30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?!-Chapter 271: A Knight Fears People More Than Ghosts 2 (1)

There’s a saying about a "Million-Dollar Night View."

To Ihan, it had once symbolized romance and success—something he had promised himself in his twenties from his past life. Back then, he had sworn that one day, he would achieve great success and go see that million-dollar night view for himself.

Unfortunately, that dream had never come to fruition.

And in this life, he had actively avoided the path of success, convinced that he would never get the chance to witness such a sight.

Yet...

‘If there’s such a thing as a ten-million-dollar view, this must be it.’

As Ihan took in the breathtaking sight before him, he was struck by the truth of the old saying—life is unpredictable.

Whoosh!

It was an exceptionally rare clear day in Wales, a place almost perpetually shrouded in fog.

With the mist lifting, the kingdom’s grand waterfall—one of Wales' most prized natural wonders—came into full view. A thin veil of mist still clung to the falls, resembling drifting clouds, and through those clouds, a rainbow arched brilliantly.

It was beyond beautiful—it was magnificent.

Seated in a prime location atop the castle walls, Ihan couldn’t help but think: This is what a ten-million-dollar view must be like.

He let out a sigh of admiration. If only he had a steak and some wine, he might truly feel like a man who had made it in life.

At that very moment—

“Sir Santa. I thought you might be hungry, so I prepared a lamb steak for you. It’s from a young lamb, so there’s no strong odor, and it should be tender. As for the garnish, I used seasonal vegetables harvested from Wales’ pristine lands, cooked just right. The sauce was reduced with a slightly acidic wine, mixed with the meat’s natural juices, the highest-quality butter, and a blend of spices. The wine I brought is Wales’ renowned cherry wine. Please, enjoy.”

“...Huh?”

“If red meat isn’t to your liking, I can also prepare a trout steak right away. If you prefer poultry, quail or pigeon is in season right now. How would you like it prepared?”

“......”

“Sir Santa?”

“...I’ll # Nоvеlight # just eat what you’ve prepared.”

“Oh, and please, drop the formalities! Speak comfortably, I beg you!”

“......”

Seriously...

‘This feels weird.’

A part of him felt a pang of jealousy toward Santa Ihan, who had achieved the success his past self never had.

And another part of him...

‘I kind of feel like one of those scheming ministers ruling from the shadows while a young king is on the throne.’

...Actually, scratch that.

This wasn’t just a feeling.

“This really is just like that, isn’t it?”

“Pardon?”

“Ah... Never mind. By the way, this steak is perfectly cooked. Haha...”

“That’s wonderful to hear! Sir Santa prefers medium-well, then? I’ll make sure to remember that for the future.”

“Do you really need to...?”

Despite the overwhelming hospitality, Ihan managed not to choke on his food.

Mainly because—

‘Damn, this is good.’

The steak was just too delicious to let anything ruin it.

***

Ihan had, completely by accident, become a ruler of absolute authority.

But honestly, it made sense.

He was the one who had single-handedly restored order to Wales, which had been descending into chaos due to power struggles among the nobility.

The fact that he had purged only the corrupt nobles, without harming a single commoner, had undoubtedly contributed to his popularity.

‘It’s honestly impressive how much resentment one person can accumulate in just five years.’

During the unification war, Ihan had learned something interesting—

After the previous Margrave (or rather, the former Margrave) had disappeared, the remaining nobles had ruthlessly exploited the people.

As a result, they had accumulated a staggering amount of hatred from the populace.

And the moment those nobles fell—

“You rotten bastard!”

“Useless excuse for a noble, pfft!”

“Spitting on them is a waste! Throw stones—or better yet, shit!”

...This was the result.

The fallen nobles were ridiculed and spat upon, and thanks to that, the new lord had gained immense support.

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

Completely by accident.

‘This is why people should be careful about making enemies.’

“Uggh... b-blergh...!”

“Ugh...!”

For the record, the ones tied to the stakes and being pelted with filth weren’t just nobles—they were also criminals guilty of embezzlement, abuse, and violence.

‘The ones who bullied children were already beyond saving, but turns out they were even worse than I thought.’

One of the reasons an eight-year-old Margrave was receiving so much support was likely because...

“Better an innocent child than a greedy, insatiable beast.”

Watching it all unfold, Ihan couldn’t help but feel sorry for the common people.

But at the same time, this whole situation worked in his favor.

Despite the sudden shift in power, there had been no major rebellions or unrest.

Bloodshed had been kept to a minimum, and the stabilization of Wales was progressing at an incredible speed.

Of course, the reason things had settled so quickly was also due to—

“Sir Knight! Y-you’re here?”

“...You’re working hard, Secretary.”

“W-work? N-no, no! This is all f-for the sake of the Guild...!”

The Guild Association’s support.

Surprisingly, the guild had been actively assisting with administrative duties.

And they weren’t just helping—they were working themselves to the bone.

Take this secretary, for example.

He had spent an entire week in this very spot, working non-stop.

He hadn’t even had time to sleep, let alone eat.

“You should hire more people. There’s plenty of embezzled noble funds to use.”

“E-even with money, finding manpower isn’t that easy. Hehehe...”

“You’re working to live, not the other way around. Isn’t this backward?”

“I-I know... but w-we need to finish before the capital catches on! H-honestly, I’m scared out of my mind...!”

“You don’t have to be. Trust me.”

“...Even so...”

The capital, the royal court—there was no way they wouldn’t eventually learn about the upheaval in Wales.

Even though Mordred was a high noble house with autonomy, they were still listed under Pendragon’s jurisdiction.

Which meant...

It wasn’t impossible for the royal family to step in and intervene.

Of course, they wouldn’t be able to touch Ihan or Louise.

Louise was a direct descendant of the Mordred family, and Ihan was simply acting as her regent.

But the others weren’t as safe.

Especially the Guild.

If they weren’t careful, the royal court might crack down on them hard.

That was why the guild members—including this exhausted secretary—were working as if they were walking a tightrope over a fire pit.

Which explained why they were so desperate and rushing to finish things.

‘...But they really don’t have to go this far.’

To Ihan, it felt like the guild was overreacting—as if they were giving the royal court far too much credit.

‘Those bastards are too busy fighting among themselves to care about the frontier.’

Ihan knew.

The nobles in the capital were constantly engaged in power struggles, engaging in what they called political battles and court intrigues.

Sure, the ones tied to stakes and getting pelted with rocks right now were greedy and corrupt, but compared to the capital’s nobles?

Not even close.

He could bet one year—no, ten years would pass, and those idiots still wouldn’t have the slightest clue what had happened in Wales.

Think he was joking?

‘I wish I were...’

Ihan let out a dry chuckle.

He knew exactly what his former workplace was like.

‘If there’s anyone who might notice, it’d be my sister, but even then... she wouldn’t care much.’

Even if the capital’s nobles were too busy fighting among themselves, his sister wouldn’t intervene even if she did notice.

Unless, of course, Mordred actually declared independence from the kingdom.

‘She probably thinks she can rule no matter who’s in charge.’

She was the epitome of arrogance, after all.

So Ihan had casually advised the Guild Association not to rush things.

But...

‘They don’t believe me.’

Instead of easing their nerves, they thought he was joking.

It was frustrating—he was telling the truth, but the guild simply couldn’t believe that the royal court could be this incompetent.

It was the fine line between logic and absurdity.

And Ihan wanted to tell them outright—the capital has no logic whatsoever.

But he decided to let them be.

‘If they’re working hard, that just makes my life easier.’

The more they worked, the less he had to do, and the more free time the little Margrave had to play. Win-win.

That’s why he only halfheartedly tried to stop them.

‘Sorry, but keep working hard for me.’

If he had to sit and read documents all day, he’d probably lose his mind.

Ihan let out a quiet sigh and kept his thoughts to himself.

Of course, that didn’t mean he intended to dump all the work on them.

‘I should at least help where I can.’

Which, in this case, meant—

Mostly using brute force.

Or more brute force.

Or... brute force.

‘...Kind of depressing, actually.’

As he was sinking into mild self-reflection, he noticed someone sprinting toward him from the distance.

“Ihan—no, Sir Santa!”

“...There’s no need for formalities when it’s just us.”

“You—huff, huff—you never know! We must be thorough, huff, huff...!”

“...You need to exercise, man.”

Ihan gave him a look of pure disbelief—the guy was this out of breath after just a short sprint?

But Simon ignored the look, adjusted his crooked glasses, and gasped out—

“Something... terrible... has happened!”

“...You always overreact.”

“This is not an overreaction! This time, it’s serious! There’s a ghost!”

“?”

“...Don’t look at me like that. I swear I’m not crazy. Actually, at this point, I wish I were crazy! Damn it! Why the hell is a ghost appearing in the middle of our worksite?!”

“...Sounds like a delusion to me. Go to the temple and get checked out.”

“I—I swear, I’m not making this up!”

Ihan’s genuine concern only made Simon look even more wronged.

And then—

“It appeared... again.”

“?”

“It’s still there. Come see for yourself.”

“...What?”

***

“...Why is this real?”

Ihan stared, dumbfounded.

In broad daylight—under the rare, bright Welsh sun—

[Creeeak... Keeeg... Kiig... Kiiiiiig...]

—A ghost was floating midair, right outside the castle.

Before Ihan could even process it—

Whoosh!

The ghost lunged at him.

Swish!!

“Holy—what the hell?!”

“......?”

“Why the hell did it just attack me?”

“...What... did you just do?”

“Huh? I hit it.”

“...How?”

“...With a slap?”

“???”