Clang—!
The strong impact running through the sword made Gismond hold his breath.
“It’s true that the more aura you have the better, but that doesn’t mean just having more is enough!”
Clang—!
The chain of attacks that followed shattered the already unstable aura.
Mana overflowed, and a metallic taste of blood suddenly surged up his throat.
“If you only increase the amount, the aura breaks easily like this. And the fact that your mana overflows with a single hit means you can’t even control it properly.”
The knight facing Gismond lowered his sword. He looked at him with an expression of pity and contempt.
“Since the young lady asked specifically, I was expecting something… but you’re completely useless. Did you steal herbs from some elixir field or what?”
“T-that’s not…”
Gismond tried to make excuses, stammering.
But on second thought, it wasn’t entirely false. Maybe it wasn’t from an elixir field, but he had taken elixirs from places where he knew they were kept.
“Your swordsmanship is also crude. Looks like you’ve only been training for about three years.”
“But that’s because…!”
In truth, it had barely been a year. What had saved him were the experience and original memories of the body, which had allowed him to adapt quickly.
“I don’t even know where to start with you. Why the hell did the young lady ask me for this…?”
The man, with scars all over his face, scratched his head in frustration. Fernan and Luina watched from a short distance.
“Are you sure this is helpful?”
“Of course.”
Luina calmly chewed a piece of chocolate and nodded.
“Harken might be rough with words, but he’s a talented knight. He’ll teach him well.”
“Doesn’t look like it… You said Harken?”
“Yes.”
Fernan knew him too.
One of the pillars of Bercheff’s knight training.
His skill was outstanding, but even more so was his talent as an instructor. Almost every famous knight from Bercheff had passed through his hands.
“You assigned him too good a teacher. With a mentor of that level, someone like Gismond doesn’t even have the basics to make use of it.”
Fernan knew Gismond’s situation perfectly.
A possessed man who, until recently, had never held a sword.
“But if he’s a senior at the Academy, how can he be that bad?”
Luina asked incredulously.
Gismond Ert was a third-year student—soon to be fourth—and had shown notable results in the jousting tournament.
Objectively, he was a swordsman of decent level.
“…Yes, that’s true.”
Fernan nodded, pretending to agree.
He couldn’t reveal anything about the possession or the future.
‘Well, if the teacher is good, he’ll know how to adapt to the student’s level.’
The problem was when you got a mediocre teacher; never with an excellent one.
Probably.
“By the way, I heard you asked your father to search for the corrupts’ camp.”
“For Pellenberg to intervene, we need solid justification.”
“We believe the camps are farther north, or maybe farther east of the areas where the monsters used to live.”
It wasn’t that the corrupts had taken over their territories.
Rather, they had settled nearby, and that forced the monsters to flee, which spread like a domino effect.
“It’s land unknown even to us. Preparing an expedition will take time.”
“I understand.”
“And I think you need to prepare too.”
“Me?”
“My father said, ‘If a brat who’s never left the northern walls suddenly enters the Demon Land, who’s going to take responsibility when something goes wrong?’”
The Demon Land was the area beyond the northern wall, where no human hand had ever reached.
“You didn’t need to repeat the quotation marks.”
“I actually softened it.”
“I see.”
Fernan accepted it without complaint.
“And besides, he said he doesn’t want to bear the pressure of worsening relations with Pellenberg.”
“So a contract would suffice? One where I declare that even if I die, Bercheff won’t be held responsible?”
“Yes. And also, you have to come with me on a reconnaissance beyond the wall.”
‘A preliminary trial? Doesn’t sound like a trap to mess with me.’
It was true—he had never gone beyond the wall.
Fernan knew nothing about what lay in those lands where life and death were decided in seconds.
‘Well, except for Andromalius, but that’s different.’
“Alright, I’ll go.”
He accepted Luina’s proposal.
It was true that Fernan would never have set foot in those lands if not for being involved in the demon issue.
“When?”
“Tomorrow. You don’t need to prepare anything, just bring your body.”
“Seriously? That’s suicide.”
A merchant walking into hostile territory unprepared was asking to die.
It didn’t matter if Bercheff assigned escorts; in the end, everyone had to protect themselves.
Boom.
‘Although I have Wooden.’
Yes, he would never leave behind the ego golem he had created.
“And what do you think?”
“About what?”
“About the Demon Land. Do you really think there’ll be corrupts there?”
“Yes.”
Of course there would be.
No prophecy was needed to know that—the recent findings in the north confirmed it.
“And how many?”
That was the question.
“Will it be something like the Taklakan Desert? Or like the Academy?”
They had no idea about the scale or the kind of creatures.
“If it’s just corrupts, it’ll be dangerous but not impossible.”
The count himself would march with them. If they were just cultists in mass, they could make it out alive.
“But Luina… what if it’s not just that?”
“You mean there could be demons? That’s not easy. At the Academy, they only managed it by using branches from the World Tree…”
“It’s been over ten years since Bercheff was ravaged, Luina.”
Fernan interrupted her.
“Do you know how many people died? How many monsters? How many animals? Can you count them?”
No. They were countless.
“The corrupts appeared more than ten years ago. And since then, monsters haven’t stopped attacking the walls. Do you think all that blood and death wouldn’t be enough for a demonic ritual?”
“…What are you getting at?”
It wasn’t that she didn’t know.
She just wanted to understand why Fernan was saying it now.
“As you know, demons freshly summoned are weak due to the dimensional barrier. Andromalius was killed by mere students, right?”
Yes, even if one of them was Aint Armian, destined to become a Royal Knight.
In the end, they were still students.
And yet, Andromalius fell.
“But a demon summoned over ten years ago, that has devoured blood and life for so long, would be different.”
And this time, Aint Armian wouldn’t be there to weaken it.
“If such a demon were in the Demon Land…”
“Fernan. You were the one who said we should go confirm. Could you get to the point?”
“That’s what I’m saying—let’s go, but with maximum security.”
Ignoring the danger wouldn’t make it go away.
“And what do you call maximum security?”
Clack.
Fernan slid a paper forward.
【Mercenary Mission Contract
Party A: Fernan Pellenberg … Party B: …】
It was a standard contract from the Mercenary Guild.
“…And this all of a sudden?”
“Read it to the end.”
Luina checked the name of Party B.
“…What?”
Her eyes widened.
“Seriously…?”
“Yes. I plan to hire him for this expedition to the Demon Land. And I’ll cover all the costs.”
Well, technically Pellenberg would.
“Will he accept?”
“They say he’s hated the cultists ever since he nearly lost his disciple. If he now suspects this involves demons, even more so.”
Fernan had planned to use him at another time, but—
“Turns out he’s right here. He probably thought the north would be more favorable for finding cultists.”
“But… will my father allow it? I doubt he’ll like it.”
It was hard to have two tigers on the same mountain.
That the Count of Bercheff himself would accept help from the King of Mercenaries could be seen as a humiliation—a sign of his own inadequacy.
“That’s why.”
“Huh?”
Fernan firmly grabbed her shoulders. The sudden contact made Luina blush slightly.
“That’s why I’m telling you first. Convincing the Count is your job.”
“…What?”
“We’re a team, right? Everyone does what they’re good at. I handle the contract, you convince your father.”
“……”
“I don’t want to die over something stupid. I haven’t even spent all the money I’ve made.”
Luina frowned.
“Also, Hyde already went to deliver the contract. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”
“WHAT…?!”
Before she could reply, Fernan fled the room.
***
Albinos Bercheff.
The current head of House Bercheff, who was rebuilding the lineage that had almost been destroyed by a monster wave unprecedented in history.
He was one of the rare ten Royal Knights in the world, and, true to his power, had immense pride.
Accepting Pellenberg’s investment wasn’t exactly what Bercheff would usually do—but he could tolerate it.
Not doing so would mean facing a far worse future.
But bringing in another tiger—that was another matter entirely.
[Father. The Demon Region is a dangerous place, one even you have never entered. There may be dozens or even hundreds of cultist bases there. And they may have even summoned demons already… (omitted)…]
This was an entirely different story.
It was like saying that Bercheff, the thing he did best and had protected for over a thousand years…
[…Not because of any lack of skill on your part, but simply out of caution for the worst-case scenario… (omitted)…]
…Wasn’t enough.
That meant disregarding him.
Maybe some would say it was just a matter of pride.
But protecting that pride and maintaining honor was what defined a noble.
“…So she just left a letter and took off?”
“Sometimes written words weigh more than those spoken in person.”
“……”
“……”
Had Luina always been this irresponsible? Fernan recalled that the first time he saw her, she hadn’t been like this.
Fernan let out a dry laugh.
“Running off in the night with the daughter and leaving only a letter… I can’t even imagine what the Count must think of me.”
At that moment, the two of them were riding across the still-dark plains before dawn.
“Don’t say nonsense. This isn’t a midnight escape, it’s a dawn patrol. And besides, it’s by my father’s order.”
And they weren’t alone.
“And also, wasn’t it he himself who asked you to deliver the message? I did my part.”
Marching with them was the White Lion Order, Bercheff’s most powerful knight force.
“Even if it were a midnight escape, we would keep the young lady’s secret for her sake.”
“Sir Gellen, that’s not funny.”
Luina shot him a glare and spurred her horse to ride ahead faster.
“Let’s go together, young lady!”
“I’m a knight now! Address me properly!”
The knights sped up to catch her.
‘I can’t even imagine how the Count will react when he finds out about this…’
Thinking that, Fernan picked up the pace to avoid falling behind the group that was already pulling away.
____
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