Chapter 146

“You should start preparing yourself too.”

That day, as usual, Aint had gone to see Silver and stopped by Fernan’s office. With a sip of hot coffee and in good spirits, Fernan cast a bait.

“Prepare myself?”

“Demons have been summoned, and the corrupt are spreading across the continent like cancer. It’s no longer a problem limited to the Academy.”

The demon issue was now continental. Inevitably, its scale was growing.

“Humans live in communities, they form relationships. No matter how strong you are, alone, you can’t do anything. You need a faction that supports your reputation and strength.”

Even without demons, if Aint dreamed of becoming emperor, this was a challenge he would eventually have to face. An emperor is not a loner, but one who rules over all.

“I’ve thought about it, but it’s not easy.”

“The Academy gathers talents from across the continent. And many of them come from good backgrounds. If you can win some of them over, it’ll be a great help.”

“Yes.”

Aint already knew this, which is why the first thing he had done was draw Verian to his side.

Within his own year, some followed him, but beyond that it was difficult. The shadow of Ludger and Schwaben still loomed too heavily. Even though he was a hero and demons had appeared, the gap between Armian and Schwaben remained an insurmountable wall.

“But what matters most is your origin, your roots. No one takes shelter under the shadow of a weed. People seek rest under the shade of a great tree.”

Aint immediately understood what that meant.

“But Armian is too weak.”

Not just weak—it had locked itself in the nostalgia of past glories, living turned away from the world. That alone achieved nothing. Its order of knights and mage battalion barely numbered one each, and were far inferior to those of other prince-electors. Their personal troops barely reached a hundred.

The reason was obvious—maintaining knights, mages, and soldiers required money, and after losing most of its lands, Armian no longer had the resources to sustain more.

“Still, you can’t put it off forever. Armian is your base, those who will support you until the end, your reliable rear guard.”

The foundation had to be solid and grand.

“I’ll give you the money.”

“…What?”

“To be precise, I’ll lend it to you.”

— Reject it, Aint!

— Even if he’s helped you a lot, accepting money from Pellenberg is something else entirely!

He didn’t even need Gardner to say it—Aint knew it well. The clearest case was Frazia. Fernan had made them sell their rights to the Golden Edict, blocking any other lender to force them to come to him at a higher interest. Even if his behavior seemed different recently, the general opinion was that Fernan had tried to destroy Frazia from the root.

“I owe you a lot, but…”

“Afraid I’ll scam you?”

“…If I’m being honest, yes.”

“Then let’s make a contract. I’ll set it at 5% annual.”

That was a surprisingly low interest rate—almost the absolute minimum. Aint hesitated—rebuilding Armian required money, and that was an undeniable fact.

“And the conditions?”

— Don’t accept it, Aint! Don’t fall for it!

“A 10-year term, with a one-time extension of 5 years possible. And it’ll be simple interest, not compound.”

The amount.

“As much as you want.”

“…What if I say an impossible sum?”

“Doesn’t matter. No one on this continent has more money than Pellenberg.”

And it was true—he was already at the top before, but with the treasure left by the First Emperor, the gap was astronomical.

“If you want, I’ll put everything in writing. I swear there’ll be no hidden clauses.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’m not going to scam the hero who’s going to save the continent. If the demons conquer it, all money becomes worthless.”

The logic was crushing.

— Hmph… he shouldn’t accept… but the conditions are too good…

Indeed, they were very favorable. The Empire usually lent at 8% annual compound interest, and many charged even more.

“Thanks for the offer, but I can’t decide alone. I’ll consult first.”

“That’s fine. Speaking of which, how’s the duke?”

By “duke,” he meant the head of Armian.

“Yes.”

“Has he said anything about your achievements?”

“Actually, I haven’t seen him since I entered the Academy. Not in summer or winter—I stayed in Frazia working as a mercenary.”

“That’s why he wrote to you. He’ll want you to return this summer for a long conversation.”

Naturally, after being isolated so long, the duke must be surprised that his son, who had barely asked to go to the Academy, was now being called a hero.

‘What will he think?’

That he shouldn’t draw attention and just preserve the bloodline? Or that he should trust him and support him fully? Honestly, the former was more likely.

If he were the kind of man who didn’t fear Schwaben, he would’ve made a move already.

‘I hope it’s the second… but if not, it doesn’t matter.’

Fernan was convinced—with his wealth, he could provide Aint the foundation he needed.

***

“Is it true that Senior Aint beat you up so badly on a rainy day you ended up wrecked?”

“I heard he knocked you unconscious.”

“No, he didn’t hit me—it was a duel.”

“A duel disguised as a beating, you mean?”

“No wonder they say that even if he’s a hero, he’s not as soft as he looks.”

“Stop spouting nonsense. If I’m telling you it wasn’t like that, why are you making such a fuss?”

Timon Baertz frowned at his friends’ teasing.

“I was the one who asked for the duel first, and Senior accepted. Yes, it was tough, but for a knight, that level of roughness is normal.”

Even though he ended up unconscious after dozens of duels, Timon was convinced it was because Aint saw him as worthy of it.

‘My skill was good enough to awaken Senior’s competitive spirit.’

If it weren’t, he wouldn’t have had a reason to insist so much on a match with a junior.

“And most importantly—thanks to him, I broke the wall.”

“Seriously?”

“You broke the wall?”

Breaking the wall meant leveling up—reaching a new stage. His friends’ eyes widened in amazement.

“How did you do it?”

“All thanks to Senior Aint’s guidance.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Timon had never pushed himself so hard in his life or been driven to such a limit.

The duel with Aint had been the first great trial of his life, and that trial had made him grow.

Naturally, his respect for Aint only deepened.

‘Senior knew exactly what I lacked—and that’s why he gave me those duels… he was guiding me!’

If not, he wouldn’t have achieved enlightenment at just the right moment.

While basking in the envy of his friends, Timon stood up.

Because of the aftereffects of so many duels, he hadn’t seen Aint for several days, but now he felt fully recovered.

‘I need to thank him.’

Even beasts acknowledge those who feed them. And Aint hadn’t just given him duels—he had helped him break through his wall. Not thanking him would be unforgivable.

Loaded with gifts, Timon found Aint in a café, chatting with his friends.

“Senior Aint!”

His voice rang out loudly, drawing everyone’s attention, but he didn’t care. He bowed before Aint.

“Thank you, senior.”

“…Huh, hello. Thanks for what?”

“Thanks to you, I managed to break the wall!”

“…The wall?”

Aint’s eyes widened. The same happened with Verian and Aria, who were beside him.

“What did you do, Aint? What did you give him?”

“Nothing! I just made him fight until he passed out and checked that he wasn’t a corrupt infiltrator…”

He never imagined that would lead to an epiphany.

“Please accept this, senior!”

Timon placed the gifts on the table.

“High-level potions from the shop. I hope they’re useful to you.”

“…This makes me a little uncomfortable.”

“I beg you, please accept them. Don’t make me look like an ungrateful man who received help and didn’t give thanks.”

After such insistence, Aint couldn’t refuse.

“Can I sit with you?”

He was about to say no, but he remembered the conversation with Fernan.

‘We said we’d watch him a bit more closely.’

At least for now, it was better to keep him close than to push him away.

“Do what you want.”

“Thank you!”

“And that one behind you, did he come with you too?”

“Behind?”

Timon turned and saw a first-year student with a sharp expression.

“Yusta Fakar? No, he didn’t come with me…”

Yusta ignored everyone else and stood in front of Verian.

“Senior Verian, I challenge you to a duel.”

His voice was polite, but his eyes brimmed with defiance.

“Do you know him, Verian?”

“Saying yes or no is complicated.”

Verian let out a bitter laugh.

“How curious… Aint gets gifts from a newbie, and I get flies buzzing around me.”

“If you’re scared, you can refuse me.”

“Follow me. I’ll show you what the difference in level means.”

Verian stood up suddenly and walked off, Yusta closely behind him.

“…What was that?”

“The marquess family Kalburdern and the Fakar family have been rivals for generations. They famously don’t get along. Always competing. Kalburdern usually has the upper hand, but Fakar isn’t far behind.”

It was said that if a new prince-elector were to be chosen someday, it would most likely be from one of those two houses.

That’s why people always compared them, and the rivalry only grew stronger.

“You speak in pretty good detail, huh?”

“Of course. I know almost everything about the Empire’s nobles and their relationships.”

Aria shrugged.

“Senior Aint.”

Aint turned and was met with a gaze that made him very uncomfortable.

“…What is it?”

— This guy has the same eyes as those fanatics from the old Dragon God Cult.

“It may sound sudden, but…”

Timon lowered his voice.

“I want to stand by your side, senior.”

***

In a tavern in Frazia, full of mercenaries.

“……”

The bald mercenary, who was devouring a huge piece of meat in one bite, suddenly stopped.

“Boss? What’s wrong all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know… the meat tastes weird. I don’t want to keep eating.”

“…Don’t want to keep eating? You already ate it all.”

Instead of answering, he set the bone on the table and stood up.

“I’m heading up first.”

He went up to the private suite on the third floor and locked the door.

“Report.”

Whoosh—, a figure emerged from the shadow.

“With the eye of Andrealphus as bait, Abel Callins covered everything and perished. After that, they didn’t notice anything.”

“Who found out?”

“As expected, that paranoid one discovered everything and acted. Also, Aint Armian seems to be following Fernan Pellenberg’s instructions.”

“This confirms it. That man is more dangerous than Aint.”

He couldn’t wield a repulsive power like Aint’s, but his paranoia and the influence he exerted with his massive authority were a far greater obstacle.

“Did he die, by chance? Hopefully.”

“He’s still alive. It would’ve been better if he’d been caught in the explosion, but…”

“He’s someone they call an expert in self-annihilation. He wouldn’t fall that easily.”

He showed no attachment. In fact, surviving wasn’t a problem.

“And what about the cover-up?”

“It was processed as a voluntary resignation. We believe the rector and Fernan coordinated it.”

“Excellent. Trying to hide it without going public… that’ll be their downfall.”

Kuhuhuhu—, he let out a dark chuckle.

His recent plans hadn’t been going well. He discovered the cause was always Aint and Fernan, so he had decided to change his approach.

The start was promising. Their attempts to cover things up would only play in his favor. Unless they completely overhauled the Academy, no one would uncover the truth.

“Aint thinks he definitely died, and will never consider what comes next.”

“Yes. And since the body completely disappeared—just like with Andromalius or Kimaris—they won’t suspect a next step.”

“The rector must be furious. He’ll react somehow. Send in the next one immediately. The more they calm down believing everything is over, the more the moment will ripen.”

And that “moment” would be—

“The collapse of the Empire’s cradle.”

Even if they had to accept some losses, it didn’t matter.

“Oh, and if Fernan or Aint leave the Academy, attack them—even if it’s forced. If it works, great. If it fails, it still serves as a distraction.”

“Yes.”

The carriage was already in motion.

While humanity struggled to erect obstacles to stop them, they could only move forward by destroying them.

One way or another.