The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 71
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 71
Reinforcing the city gates, restoring the underground drainage system, rebuilding the outer walls……
Owen closed his weary eyes and pressed one hand against them.
For days now, he’d been awake late into the night drafting Territory Recovery plans and delegating tasks, and his head throbbed relentlessly.
He glanced at the three desks arranged on either side of his study—all of them empty.
Whenever those three were in the same room, they’d fight constantly without pause, so he’d given each of them separate work to do. But now they seemed reluctant to return.
Fulton had brought him a report on opening the Beryl Mine, but Owen had dismissed it without even looking, and now the man seemed to be sulking—not a trace of him to be seen.
And Jane, though his sworn rival, wasn’t exactly throwing herself into her work with any particular fervor.
He’d told her to stop making a nuisance of herself and help Pesha instead, but she’d started claiming she’d investigate the lady’s true intentions and report back. From where he stood watching, it seemed like she’d simply taken a fancy to Pesha.
She was hovering around Pesha constantly under the guise of carrying out her own orders.
Yet according to the maid he’d assigned to watch her, she didn’t seem particularly useful for actual work.
Rebecca got along well with the Mercenary Company folk and was busy managing them and reorganizing the damaged units. She’d been pulling all-nighters handling miscellaneous tasks that wouldn’t normally have climbed to Owen’s level—he’d lost count of how many nights without sleep she’d endured.
Suddenly, his study, where he’d remained essentially confined, began to feel suffocating.
He’d stepped outside to get some air, but there wasn’t really anywhere worth going.
Despite being the ostensible master of the castle, his usual destinations were limited to a handful of places: the study, the Training Ground, the dining hall, the bedroom.
……
After standing in place for a moment, wrestling with indecision, he decided to simply go where he always went rather than search for somewhere new.
Since it wasn’t mealtime or bedtime, there was only one place worth visiting: the Training Ground.
‘My body’s been stiff from doing nothing but work. This’ll do.’
The soldiers appeared to have gone off for training as a group, leaving the Training Ground empty in the middle of the day.
Owen spotted a Wooden Sword carelessly wedged in a corner and drew one out.
He was swinging it lightly when a Real Sword suddenly dropped at his feet with a thud.
Following the direction the blade had come from, Owen turned to see Georc brandishing his own sword with a flourish.
The man approached with a grin, his easy-going demeanor still very much intact.
With his easygoing nature and ability to serve as a bridge within the rough Mercenary Company, Georc was adept at quickly thawing even the coldest atmosphere.
His rare talent for yielding gracefully amid rough soldiers and obtaining what he wanted through smooth talk was a gift seldom seen.
During the war, Owen had often thought that if he were to face death, Georc would be the most suitable candidate for the next captain.
Owen kicked the Real Sword lying at his feet aside.
“What?”
“Since when did you start wielding a Wooden Sword? Don’t bore me by just beating straw dummies alone—teach me a thing or two.”
……
Despite his playful tone, Georc was among the top swordsmen in the Mercenary Company.
While it wouldn’t end as a light warm-up, his whole body felt stiff now, and this was actually welcome.
Owen set the Wooden Sword back in its place and bent to pick up the Real Sword.
At that moment, without even a word of starting, Georc’s blade came at Owen.
Clang!
Steel crashed against steel with a sharp, resounding ring across the Training Ground.
Georc’s blade sliced through the air again.
Owen stepped back half a pace, deflected the attack, and thrust the tip of his sword at his opponent’s shoulder.
Georc barely managed to dodge at lightning speed, but a lethal wind whistled past his ear.
“Easy, easy!”
“You asked for a lesson.”
“You’re too fast—I can’t learn anything!”
Georc made a show of complaint while pressing force into their locked blades.
Owen immediately flicked the attack away with the flat of his blade, then swept horizontally.
Steel rang out several more times as dust kicked up from the ground.
Georc pressed in from the side, but Owen’s blade was already leveled at the hollow of his throat.
As the cold steel touched his skin, sweat broke out on Georc’s brow.
Finally, Owen lowered his sword.
Simultaneously, Georc dropped his blade to the ground in surrender.
Even as he raised both hands in defeat, he continued to protest.
“How is this already over? Wasn’t I putting up a fight for five minutes?”
“If you’re that upset about it, go again.”
They crossed swords three more times, and each ended in Owen’s overwhelming victory.
Completely exhausted, Georc collapsed onto the dirt floor, breathing heavily.
“Damn it. Did you just eat and practice swordwork all day? When did you get this much better?”
“Nothing else to do.”
“I figured you’d already gone soft, with how you stay locked up in that study all the time.”
“Even if I had, I still wouldn’t lose to you.”
Georc, who’d been glaring at the sword in Owen’s grip, suddenly burst into laughter.
That arrogant confidence of his was welcome.
“Remember when we first met? I used to give you such a hard time back then—walking around with your eyes all wide like that, it annoyed me so much I’d tease you about it. Feels like just yesterday, and now I’m dying easy, aren’t I?”
Watching Georc pull up the corners of his eyes with both hands and prance about, Owen let out a hollow laugh.
“When did I ever do that? Don’t talk nonsense.”
“After all these years, you’re playing dumb? Every single day, stomping around with eyes like you were about to kill someone—yeah, like that.”
“Don’t exaggerate.”
“But now all that poison’s gone, and you actually look like a person. Hmm, I wonder if you needed to get married for that?”
Owen’s brow tightened.
He’d never thought of himself as changed.
Besides, everyone was on edge during wartime anyway.
Now that the war was over, there was simply no reason to stay vigilant.
It was an odd thing to say.
“Stop it and get up.”
Owen set his sword back in its place and poked at Georc’s waist as he lay sprawled out with his limbs loose.
But Georc paid him no mind and went on talking.
“Your wife, or should I say my lady now? Anyway, she’s something else, isn’t she? Storming into that dark mercenary hideout, and charging in without so much as a tremor—watching that made my head spin.”
“…Pesha?”
Georc had been treating his words like an annoying fly, but the moment Owen showed curiosity about his wife, Georc found it astounding.
“That’s when I thought, ‘Our captain’s found his match.’ But come to think of it, when did my lady learn all those details about our Mercenary Company days? She seemed to know everything.”
“What are you talking about? I never told her anything.”
“Sir?”
Seeing Owen’s reaction as if he’d never heard a word of it, Georc tilted his head.
“Then how’d she find out? Didn’t my lady investigate you? Just like how you used to lurk behind her like some creep.”
“Get up before I kick you.”
Even as Owen’s expression grew darker by the second, Georc didn’t bat an eye.
“But sir, my lady is the girl from back then, isn’t she? The kiss girl.”
“What?”
“I mean, didn’t you say you fell for the girl who kissed your cheek when you were little?”
At that, Owen’s face crumpled entirely.
“When did I ever say something like that…”
“That time you were drinking… Ah, I don’t even need you to say it all. Between us, we can read each other just like that. I figured she’d be a tough one, but look—you even went and got married. Our captain’s a real man, a real man.”
“Enough. Stop talking.”
As Owen tried to leave the Training Ground as if giving up, Georc suddenly jerked his torso upright from where he’d been rolling in the dirt.
“Captain! You look incredibly happy right now.”
“……”
“Your face looks good. So much better than before!”
“……Yeah.”
“You know, guys like us don’t have many things that matter. Lose those and life’s over.”
At those words, Owen stopped in his tracks on his way out of the Training Ground and answered.
“I know. I’m trying not to show how much this means, so don’t open your mouth in front of my wife.”
Despite the blunt rebuke, Georc chuckled and rolled in the dirt again.
“Unbelievable. I figured you’d live the bleakest life, but you set up house first and you’re living cozy and sweet with your first love.”
“Shut up.”
“If you get the time, spar with the rest of us later! Everyone’s too nervous about whether their captain—now that he’s a Lord—is too formidable to even ask.”
Owen didn’t answer and left the Training Ground.
Walking down the corridor, he turned over Georc’s words for a long time.
Am I happy?
Should I call a daily life like this happiness?
If this feeling—wanting to stop this moment where Pesha and I are bound together as husband and wife, eating together, building a future together—if this is what they call happiness, then…
Is Pesha happy like I am?
“……”
Owen tried to stop his thoughts and bury them before the doubt deepened.
The truth was, he couldn’t arrive at any answer until he was buried under papers in his office.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Lyncdtxo
What a twist omg 😭 i didn’t expect that hes so innocent omg 🙏🏻