“Your Grace. I intend to turn this entire North completely upside down.”
Elian’s eyes shone with a fierce, unwavering light. It was the conviction that only someone who already had a blueprint drawn in their mind could possess — not idle fantasy, but certainty.
“The reason the Emperor disregards the North is because we appear poor, cold, and nothing more than a frontier shield blocking monsters. So we need to make him come to us desperately.”
“Come to you desperately.”
Calix rested his chin on his hand, looking intrigued.
“We’re going to make them want what we have so badly that they come crawling with money in hand, begging for it. And to do that….”
Elian paused for a moment, then curled the corner of his lips upward.
“First, we need to get our own house in order. We’ll start by bringing those stubborn old men over to our side.”
“The vassals? They’re not the sort of people you can reason with.”
Calix was skeptical. But Elian was brimming with confidence.
“You don’t reason with words — you communicate through the ‘body.’ Especially with the older generation, there’s a cure-all that works every time.”
A relaxed smile played at Elian’s lips. It was a truth he had learned through ten years of grinding through rough construction sites in his past life as civil engineer Kim Jaehyeon. Stubborn foremen who couldn’t take direction. Old craftsmen who ignored blueprints and insisted on doing things their own way. Exacting clients with impossible demands.
Getting those insufferable old hardliners to warm up wasn’t a matter of meticulous schematics or logical persuasion. It was a steaming sauna at the end of a long shift, a glass of ice-cold soju, and a single warm word acknowledging their efforts. When a stiff body finally unwinds into comfortable relaxation, the iron bolts locking up a stubborn heart have a way of sliding open on their own.
No matter how much power the North’s treasurer holds, at the end of the day he’s just an old man suffering from rheumatoid arthritis.
The strategy was already mapped out in his head. Elian pulled up the System window.
[Accessing System Shop]
[Purchase: Premium Hwangto Clay and Brick Set (x1)]
[Purchase: Conductive Slime Gel (x1)]
[Purchase: Copper Coil & Pad Set (x1)]
Elian’s fingers moved busily through the air.
“Your Grace, please dispatch a few laborers I can put to work immediately!”
Why waste another second — construction starts now!
The following morning.
In one corner of the annex courtyard of the Grand Duke’s castle, a peculiar structure had taken shape. Red hwangto clay bricks stacked into a dome, the floor and outer surface finished with clay — a small earthen chamber roomy enough for three or four adults to sit in comfortably. A mat of woven straw hung over the entrance, blocking the view from outside.
“…What on earth is this?”
Calix tilted his head, puzzled.
“I call it the ‘Hwangto Fire Sauna.’ Go ahead and step inside.”
Elian guided Calix into the narrow earthen chamber. The well-finished clay floor was laid with straw mats, and at the center, a furnace fitted with a mana stone burned, warming the interior.
“There, Your Grace. Warm, isn’t it? Now go ahead and take off your outer layers — best to keep just a light shirt on.”
Watching Elian start peeling off his own outer garments, Calix complied without protest.
“Now for the most important step.”
Elian picked up a white towel. With practiced hands, he rolled both ends of the towel into two neat little rounds.
“Can you lower your head a little?”
“What are you doing?”
Calix tried to pull back with a suspicious look, but Elian was faster.
Plop—.
Atop the head of the North’s ruler, the cold-blooded Grand Duke Calix, landed a towel shaped into two round little buns on either side.
“Pfft.”
Elian involuntarily slapped a hand over his mouth. A strikingly handsome man in a black shirt with a cool, imposing air — and a pair of adorable little bun-shaped towels on his head. The sheer contrast was overwhelming.
“Elian. Did you just laugh?”
“No, it’s just… it suits you so well. You look adorable, Your Grace.”
“Adorable…. Me?”
Calix’s eyebrow twitched. The audacity of calling a Grand Duke adorable. Had it been anyone else, it would have cost them their head — but Elian was grinning and saying it as a compliment, which produced a strangely complicated feeling. Calix cleared his throat, touched one of the rounded ends of the towel, and spoke.
“So. What do I do now?”
“When I give the signal, hold the end of this copper wire here. Then channel your Mana very gradually, in small pulses — like a heartbeat. Tap, tap. Short, controlled bursts.”
Elian held up two flat pads connected to copper wire. Their purpose was utterly impossible to guess from appearance alone.
At that moment, heavy footsteps thudded from outside.
“Baron! You had the nerve to summon me!”
It was the treasurer Conrad’s voice, thick with indignation.
“Ah, he’s here. Perfect timing.”
Elian pushed the straw mat aside and poked his head out.
“Treasurer, I’ve prepared a special treatment as an apology. Please, come inside.”
“Treatment? In this dirt hole — is this some kind of mud game? You think I’m fool enough to fall for your schemes—!”
“Come now, please just step in.”
Elian moved around behind the hesitating Conrad and half-forcibly pushed him into the earthen chamber.
“Wah! H-how dare you!”
Conrad tumbled into the cramped clay room. Fuming, he raised his head — and froze at the sight of the person seated across from him.
“G-Grand Duke, Your Grace?!”
Calix sitting in grave, dignified silence — with a towel shaped into two little buns on his head. The bizarre yet imposing sight robbed Conrad of every word he’d prepared.
“Sit down, Conrad. The Baron prepared this for you.”
“Y-yes… yes….”
Conrad sat stiffly in the spot Elian indicated, shuffling into place. A pleasant wave of heat washed over him. Far-infrared warmth radiating through the hwangto clay bricks seeped into his aching joints and began to thaw them from the inside out.
“Mmm….”
He tried not to show it, but it felt too, too good. To a northerner who had fought the cold his entire life, this kind of warmth was nothing short of a blessing.
“Now, if you’ll allow me.”
Elian rolled up Conrad’s upper garment. His trapezius muscles and shoulders — hardened to stone from a lifetime of demanding work and relentless cold. Elian applied a cool slime gel over them and pressed the copper-wire pads firmly into place.
“Wh-what is this! It’s cold!”
“Bear with it just a moment. Your Grace, please begin the tap, tap at level one, as I asked earlier.”
At Elian’s signal, Calix gave a small flick of his fingers.
Zap—.
“Hup!”
Conrad’s body jolted.
“Wh-what was that! There was a jolt! Something just jolted me!”
“Stay still. It’s breaking up the tension in your muscles. Your Grace, a little faster now — more of a tap-tap-tap rhythm.”
Zap, zap-zap, zap—.
Through Calix’s precise Mana control, a fine current flowed through the pads. Low-frequency massage — in other words, physical therapy — had begun.
Conrad, who had thrashed in alarm at first, slowly began to go limp.
“Ohh… ohhhh….”
His shoulder — the one that had suffered chronic pain from years of leaning on a cane. The vibration working its way into the deep tissue was unclogging something that had been blocked for years. Relief on a different level entirely from kneading or rubbing. With the toasty warmth of the hwangto chamber layered on top of it, moans were escaping Conrad’s lips involuntarily.
“Ohh… right there… yes, there… ohhhh… so good….”
Without even noticing, Conrad had sprawled flat onto the floor, melting into the ground. In the presence of the Grand Duke, he had lost all sense of dignity and decorum.
Elian smiled with warm satisfaction and produced his secret weapon that he’d prepared in advance. Ice-cold raspberry juice with tiny slivers of ice floating in it, and roasted eggs.
“Treasurer, sit up and have some of this.”
“Ngh… more… just a little more….”
“That’s all. Overdoing it will strain the muscles.”
Conrad sat up with a reluctant expression and took the juice, draining it in a single go. The cold liquid shot through his throat with a head-clearing shock, and it felt as though every cell in his body was snapping awake.
“Ahhh!”
Conrad set the empty glass down and his eyes flew open. A freshness like ten years had been shed from his body. Overcome, he seized Elian’s hand.
“This! Put this in my room too! This machine — how much does it cost? I’ll buy it! Please sell it to me!”
Elian met Calix’s eyes with a grin, thinking: right on cue.
“It’s a bit complicated to use privately. As you can see, it requires His Grace to channel Mana directly to function. You can hardly use the Grand Duke as a personal massager every time, can you?”
“W-well, that’s true, but….”
Conrad’s face fell and his shoulders drooped. The thought of returning to that relentless, grinding pain was horrifying even to imagine.
“However, it’s not as though there’s no solution at all.”
The moment Elian hinted at a possibility, Conrad’s ears perked up.
“If there’s sufficient energy, we could build charging stations in each village square. Residents could collect charged mana stones daily to keep their homes warm, and the surplus energy could be put to all kinds of use.”
It was an idea adapted from modern LPG gas cylinders — the ones that were standard before city gas lines were widespread. Relying entirely on the Grand Duke’s Mana for all of the North’s development was simply not sustainable, so Elian had devised this as an alternative.
“Oh! Is that possible?”
“Absolutely. However, it would require a massive generator. Specifically, a ‘dam’ — something that converts the power of flowing water into Mana energy.”
“A dam?”
“You block a river and use the pressure to generate energy. The initial construction cost is fairly substantial, but—”
“Is money the issue here!”
Conrad bellowed, slamming his fist down.
“My shoulder — this concerns the future of the North! Don’t worry about the budget. I’ll empty the storehouses if I have to — just start building that dam, or whatever you called it, immediately!”
Elian smiled and bowed his head.
“Thank you, Treasurer. That is a wise decision.”
After Conrad left with a look of blissful satisfaction, only the two of them remained in the narrow earthen chamber. Calix, still wearing the towel buns, let out a small, amused laugh.
“Not bad at all. Getting that stubborn old man wrapped around your finger with nothing but a mud game.”
“A mud game, you say. This is cutting-edge engineering.”
Elian carefully lifted the towel off Calix’s head. Disheveled black hair tumbled down over his forehead. Red eyes fixed on Elian with unwavering intensity in the close confines of the small space.
“Conrad seems satisfied.”
Calix hooked his arm around Elian’s waist and pulled him down onto his lap.
“So how do you plan to pay me back for using me as a massager?”
A gaze far hotter than the warmth of the hwangto chamber came bearing down on him. But Elian, oblivious, simply placed a hand on Calix’s shoulder.
“Shall I work out the tension in your shoulders too, Your Grace?”
“No.”
In an instant Calix turned, and his hand slipped under Elian’s shirt.
“There’s somewhere else that needs working out.”
