Chapter 175

With the injection of enormous funds, the once quiet House Armian began to bustle with activity.

Duke Ferdicas Armian, head of the family, made a swift decision.

“No matter how much we develop the current lands or seek more resources, we’ll never be able to repay this debt.”

The money Aint had borrowed amounted to several times the value of all of Armian’s current territories.

Of course, a fief couldn’t be measured by money alone, but even so, it had its limits.

Even with low interest rates, the amount borrowed was so large that repaying it would be difficult.

“Anyway, what you need, Aint, is not vast territory, but an army to back you.”

So he decided to allocate everything—except for minimal land development—to organizing and maintaining troops.

“Becoming emperor, reclaiming all of Armian’s lands, and using the spoils of war against the demons—that alone can repay this debt.”

Had Gismond heard him, he would’ve said.

“Repay the debt? Wow, the duke has the heart of a beast.”

But from the moment Aint agreed to borrow money he could never repay on his own, this was the only viable solution.

“For now, the goal is to expand to three knightly orders and three mage corps, totaling three thousand men.”

Then, grow step by step until, militarily, they were not inferior to the other prince-electors.

That was, ultimately, the duke’s wish.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me? It’s only natural.”

Aint assisted his father in selecting knights, recruiting soldiers, and learning how to manage the territory and handle the troops.

The duke wanted to teach him everything he knew.

“Being emperor and managing a fragmented territory like ours are very different things, but it will still help you.”

“Of course.”

While he learned everything from his father except swordsmanship, he also received guidance from Gardner Alfenparsen.

— You should’ve responded more calmly there.

— Relax your strength. You’re too stiff—the sword doesn’t flow and becomes rough.

At the same time, he sparred with knights from the Saintbird Order.

“Master Aint wins again!”

“Master Aint even beat Appen!”

“He’s completely different from a year and a half ago.”

“No wonder they call him a hero for defeating the corrupt.”

“Only the captain could beat him now!”

Thanks to these practices, his swordsmanship sharpened even further.

“I want to be friends with Silver too!”

“The Saintbird has returned to the Saintbird Order!”

“He’s too adorable!”

It was an extremely productive summer.

***

Clop, clop—

A white horse galloped across the snowy steppe, followed by dozens of knights.

Luina pulled on the reins, and the mount halted, snorting.

In the vast frozen plain, with no trace of monsters, a smile appeared on her lips.

“Let’s head back for today.”

“Yes!”

Following her order, the knights turned their horses.

Throughout the dawn patrol, they hadn’t encountered a single monster.

Since the death of rank-66 demon Kimaris, northern Bercheff had changed drastically.

Snow still fell for nearly half the year, but the monsters that once plagued the cursed land had vanished.

The demons themselves had wiped out most of them, and now an unprecedented peace reigned.

Smiles bloomed on people’s faces.

Luina owed that peace to Fernan.

‘If it hadn’t been for Fernan…’

If he hadn’t found Kimaris’s egg, if he hadn’t hired the Mercenary King, this peace wouldn’t exist.

More likely, Bercheff would’ve fallen and the Empire would be in chaos.

‘When this break ends, I should give him a gift…’

Whatever it was, it would be a small token for Fernan, but she still wanted to show her gratitude.

Clop, clop.

At that moment, the patrol reentered the city and passed the street of the forges.

‘A weapon? No… he’s a mage, that wouldn’t help.’

As she pondered what to gift him, Luina was surprised.

Clang, clang—! Ssshhh! Fwoosh!

“Careful, it’s hot!”

The sound of hammers, metal cooling, smiths shouting, and scorching heat.

Every forge was working at full capacity, their fires never extinguished.

It was normal for Bercheff, amid reconstruction, to have active forges—but what was being piled outside was unexpected.

‘Weapons and armor?’

All the forges were producing the same thing.

‘Didn’t Father say they wouldn’t be producing anything in large quantities for now?’

With Pellenberg’s massive investment, new cities and workshops were being built on the wastelands, and production was centered on the forge street.

She remembered her father saying there wouldn’t be room to produce weapons right away because of that.

“His Excellency awaits you.”

Back at the castle, Luina entered the border marquis’s office and gave a brief report.

Nothing out of the ordinary, just routine.

“Well done.”

“I only did my duty.”

She bowed and asked.

“On the way back, I saw the workshops and forges busy making weapons. Is something happening?”

“Pellenberg made a massive order.”

“Pellenberg?”

“It’s today’s headline. Read it.”

The marquis handed her a newspaper.

【King of Esrin, Dener Esrin, Gravely Ill…】

“So Esrin is in turmoil.”

“A king’s illness being in the paper?”

A monarch’s health was usually strictly controlled—and even more so for a king.

“Read the next article.”

【Crown Prince Balve Esrin declares, ‘The rumors about His Majesty’s health are exaggerated. It was just mild anemia.’】

“Anemia?”

“Two days ago was Esrin’s founding anniversary. The king collapsed during the ceremony.”

“Ah…”

With such a public scandal, it didn’t matter what the royal family tried to control.

“They can deny it all they want—no one believes it. That king is so old, it’s no surprise he might die soon.”

Rumors about King Esrin’s poor health weren’t new.

Eighty-eight years old. For a common man—not a knight or mage—that was already a long life, and his health was frail.

“It feels like the inevitable has finally come.”

“But doesn’t Esrin already have a designated heir?”

“That’s what I thought—but apparently, Pellenberg thinks otherwise.”

Otherwise, they wouldn’t have made such an order.

“The demons are already appearing, and they’re still unprepared.”

The marquis clicked his tongue. Esrin had been naïve, feeling safe because the corrupt hadn’t yet acted there.

Most humans didn’t understand danger until it stared them in the face.

“Well, it works out for me…”

He wasn’t a greedy man, but he owed a great debt to Pellenberg.

Even if their relationship had shifted now, a debt was still a debt.

And he had no intention of wasting this chance to repay it.

***

Clang, clang, clang—

Rumble, rumble—

“Reinforce those supports!”

“We’ve hit a hard rock layer!”

“What, you think it ends here? Bring the gear and smash through it right now!”

The dwarven underground city.

They accepted the new proposal Fernan had brought, and since the city’s founding, no public project of such scale had ever been undertaken.

“Hmm.”

The mayor, reviewing the materials Fernan had submitted, was puzzled by two additional conditions.

“Taking Ahgrot to the Academy, I can accept that.”

Ahgrot also wanted to go, and besides, he would serve as a fitting symbol of a new beginning for the dwarves.

In fact, the mayor even wanted Fernan to take him.

“But this makes no sense to me.”

He moved the pen as he looked over the blueprint Fernan had handed him.

“A shield made from a Turhel’s shell?”

Even he acknowledged that the shell of the rank-2 monster Turhel was so hard it could crush almost any metal.

Melting it down and forging it into weapons or equipment made sense.

Most dwarves agreed it could be put to use.

But—

“You want to turn it into a shield without modifying its original shape?”

The Turhel was a massive monster, over five meters on average.

If the shell covered its entire body, the diameter would easily exceed five meters.

“Frankly, it’s not easy, but not impossible either. What I don’t understand are two things.”

“What are they?”

“First—though the amount is small—you’re asking to mix the Three Great Metals.”

The mayor glanced again at the blueprint.

The Turhel’s shell had to be processed and combined with an alloy of mithril, adamantium, and orichalcum. Then, multiple runes were to be engraved to further reinforce it.

“I know you have the Three Great Metals, but don’t you think it’s a waste?”

“It’s not.”

Fernan firmly shook his head.

He knew this would provide greater security.

“With adamantium, I’ll gain hardness, and with orichalcum, it will be lighter.”

Orichalcum, also known as floating stone, when mixed, reduced the weight of any object.

“And the mithril?”

“That I can’t tell you.”

Of course, it was to allow size alteration. Since the shield was for Wooden, it needed to shrink when he did.

“Fine, fine. It’s yours—if you want to do it that way, go ahead. But to waste the Three Great Metals like that…”

The mayor sighed with obvious nostalgia.

“But tell me—why the hell do you want a giant shield of this size? Will it even be useful?”

“Yes, it will.”

“A golem, maybe?”

“Something like that.”

Comparing it to other golems was an insult, but in the end, Wooden was also one.

“Interesting. I thought golem magic was nearly extinct on the surface.”

“It still survives.”

“But the problem is that it leaves the mage defenseless, right?”

“There’s a way to avoid that.”

“…Well, if you say so.”

The mayor nodded with resignation.

“In any case, you understand you’ll have to intervene, right? We dwarves are the best in the world at forging equipment, but these magical inscriptions you’re asking for are impossible for us.”

“I know.”

“Then, the fees…”

“Aren’t you receiving lands and titles from us?”

“Don’t give me that! That’s a completely different matter!”

The mayor roared, though he then asked cautiously.

“Do you have any of the Three Great Metals left?”

“As far as I know, Ahgrot already took everything we gave him. This, I’d say, could be done out of camaraderie.”

“Ahem, that loudmouth told you everything, huh?”

The mayor laughed awkwardly.

“Fine, I’ll do it for free.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Then you’ll see why dwarven skill is recognized as the best in the world.”

— Kyuu!

‘Thanks. Nice.’

The little golem bowed happily at the thought of receiving a huge and durable shield, though no one understood what he said.

***

A sunny afternoon.

Ludger sipped tea while flipping through the newspaper.

【Golden Turtle Company obtains development rights in Fridian…!
First time entering their territory!】

【Where did the Company get those rights? A land of pure rock, long deemed unprofitable…】

“Development rights in Fridian?”

Since when? Ludger gave a disbelieving chuckle.

That the area was just rocky mountains didn’t matter.

What mattered was that, for the first time, Fridian had ceded part of its territory.

That meant Pellenberg had reached some kind of agreement with them.

“…Fernan. Do you really plan to make Aint Armian emperor?”

Did he truly believe that was possible?

Beyond his demon-fighting bloodline and inherited swordsmanship, that kid had nothing.

No matter how much Ludger thought about it, it seemed absurd.

At that moment—

“Your Highness, the First Prince has arrived.”

Ludger’s expression hardened.

“Let him in.”

A moment later, a man with golden hair similar to Ludger’s, intense green eyes, and softer features entered the garden, accompanied by guards.

“Been a while, Ludger.”

It was the First Prince of the Empire, Ruben Schwaben.

“I’ve wanted to see you, but I’ve been busier than expected. How’s life at the Academy?”

And now he says this, after nearly a month of vacation at the palace?

Ludger responded calmly.

“It’s fine. I already knew you were busy.”

“You sound a bit sharp.”

“That’s not it.”

“Are you annoyed?”

The prince sat across from him.

“I want to speak with my brother alone.”

Ludger’s guards looked at him. With a nod, he signaled them to leave.

“I only recently learned that the secret swordsmanship of Armian was here in our house. I was shocked when His Majesty told us.”

The First Prince gently patted his brother’s shoulder.

“I didn’t tell you because you were at the Academy.”

“That’s not what bothers me.”

Well, it did, but there was something more important.

“Why did you attack Aint Armian? That was the worst possible decision.”

Ludger had predicted it would fail—and it did.

Thanks to Fernan.

Had they at least consulted him more thoroughly about the relationship between Fernan and Aint, they might’ve planned better.

“All it did was make him more distrustful.”

“I agree. Touching Aint now was a mistake. Especially since we didn’t know Fernan Pellenberg supported him.”

But—

“It doesn’t matter what relationship he has with Aint. If he had stayed hidden in his diminished lands, fine. But not anymore. We cannot coexist with Armian.”

There were many powerful people in the Empire, but only one throne.

“That’s why I want you to do something.”

“…Me?”

“Yes.”

If they couldn’t be allies, they had to be victors.

“His Majesty and I both want that boy to stop shining. At least until the time is right.”

“Until he fully masters the Armian swordsmanship?”

“It’s not Armian’s. It’s Schwaben’s—refined over a thousand years to fight demons.”

“No one will believe that.”

“You’re still young. Whether they believe it or not doesn’t matter.”

Sooner or later, Armian would disappear, and the one remaining would be the real one.

“Then, what exactly do you expect from me?”

“There’s an old saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“…Are you asking me to befriend that bastard?”

“You’re not the same age, so not friends. But companions—teacher and student—something like that.”

The First Prince smiled.

“Isn’t it perfect? The new rising hero and the imperial prince showing camaraderie. Everyone will love the story.”

“Then why not do it yourself? It would look much better coming from you.”

“Not a bad idea, but I have no contact with him.”

The prince poured tea into an empty cup.

“What’s wrong? Can’t do it?”

Though his smile was warm, the unsettling pressure he radiated made Ludger’s fingers tremble involuntarily.