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A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! Chapter 175

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.

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