Chapter 256

“……!”

Late at night, Aint jolted awake.

His clothes and bed were soaked in cold sweat. He reached out and took a sip of water.

— Did you have a nightmare? asked Gardner.

“Yes. It was a nightmare.”

— What did you dream about?

“I dreamed that Senior took every last resource from Armian…”

— Now that sounds like a real nightmare.

Gardner let out a soft groan.

— Even so, don’t think so badly of him. Back then, Fernan was a bit scary, sure, but he’s also made a lot of things easier for you.

That was true.

— I’m starting to understand how Fernan sees you.

— You’re a goose. A goose that lays golden eggs.

— That’s why he feeds you well and takes care of you.

And Fernan Pellenberg would never be foolish enough to be like that idiot in the fable who cut open the goose’s belly.

— Though, if it has to lay too many golden eggs, it might lose all its feathers.

Gardner let out an awkward laugh.

— As long as you become emperor, I don’t think that will ruin you.

“……”

Why does none of that comfort me?

“Are you awake?”

Someone knocked on the door. Dawn was just beginning to break outside.

“Yes.”

“A letter has arrived from House Armian.”

The servant handed him the letter and left.

“A letter?”

Aint took it curiously. It bore his father’s official seal.

It was the first time he had ever received a letter from him.

— Did something serious happen? Open it.

“Alright.”

[It’s been a long time since I last saw your face. I heard you captured two demons in the Kingdom of Linelt.

I’m very proud of you… (omitted) …Your dream of becoming emperor may not be so impossible after all…]

After the greetings and some lines about recent events, the main content was something Aint would have never expected.

[Thanks to your achievements, I have become the Count of Kool.]

“…Count of Kool?”

— Coul? Daniel Kool?

As soon as he read the name, Daniel Kool came to mind.

The parasite who had manipulated the empire and nearly destroyed its diplomatic relations with other nations.

— Don’t tell me this turned out just like Fernan said.

“…It did.”

When Daniel Kool died and the territory was left without a lord, Fernan had casually mentioned that it would be a good idea for Armian to take those lands.

Aint had laughed at the time, thinking it was impossible.

— Is this for real?

— Read more! In detail!

The County of Kool was famous for its distilleries and wineries, a land that produced the best liquor brands on the continent.

A true goldmine, coveted by all nobles.

How had Armian managed to seize such a valuable territory, with no influence or political power?

[Your participation was decisive. You…]

The letter explained the process in detail, listing three main reasons.

First, Aint Armian’s merits.

After taking down not only Andrealphus but also Valac and Andras, his fame had soared.

Second, the tensions between the prince-electors and the nobility.

None of them wanted their rivals to gain control of the territory, so they opted to give it to the weak and “safe” House Armian.

And third, Pellenberg’s intervention. Under his leadership, houses like Fridian, Altrierc, and Bercheff supported the proposal.

All of that combined to produce the final result—the coveted County of Coul ended up in Armian’s hands.

“…In the end, it was also thanks to Senior.”

— Exactly. No matter how high your prestige, without Pellenberg’s help you never would’ve gotten it.

Though, of course, Aint’s feats in defeating the two demons were the final blow.

— Yeah, Fernan clearly sees you as a goose that lays golden eggs…

“I have to wield my sword!”

After all, there was no better way to overcome fear than training with the sword.

***

“It’s Gismond!”

“Lord Gismond!”

He was gaining popularity.

Gismond felt it clearly.

After the disaster in the capital, the knights and soldiers who had witnessed his actions began spreading stories about him.

His name even appeared in a small corner of the newspaper.

It was insignificant compared to Aint or Luina, the two overhumans, but still enough for some people to start recognizing him on the street.

Gismond smiled happily.

He’d never felt anything like this—not even in Korea.

Was being famous really not so bad after all?

‘No, no, Gismond. Focus. Did you already forget what happened that day?’

He shook his head urgently.

The memories were still there, etched like a nightmare.

When he was being chased by monsters and screamed for help, no reinforcements came.

He barely escaped and climbed to the roof of a half-destroyed building, hoping to spot the kingdom’s troops—and then he saw them.

Those bastards chatting away casually!

There was no way Fernan, the Mercenary King, and the headmaster didn’t hear his voice echoing through the whole area.

They had ignored him on purpose.

The betrayal he felt in that moment was indescribable, and when he went to complain, Fernan’s response was the worst possible.

“Are you alive? Then it’s all fine.”

“That damn Fernan!”

‘If only I’d been a bit stronger…!’

But remembering what he saw when Fernan fought the demon, he understood that being “a bit stronger” wouldn’t have been enough.

He would’ve needed to be much stronger—stronger than Fernan himself.

‘…Even then, I would’ve held back.’

Because Fernan’s true power wasn’t his physical strength, but his money, his influence, and his connections.

How many people could summon two overhumans whenever they wanted?

‘The novel also mentioned that the Pellenberg Family had a Royal Knight and an Archmage.’

If you added those two, Fernan could move four overhumans at once.

The real puppeteer behind the scenes.

‘…Though I have improved quite a bit.’

Every time he followed Fernan, he ended up on the brink of death, but somehow always came out stronger.

‘I’m no Nietzsche, but…’

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

“Th-Thank you.”

Suddenly, someone stopped in front of him.

A beautiful woman with long blonde hair, light green eyes, and porcelain-white skin.

She held a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

“Me?”

“I heard you fought for us. I wanted to express my gratitude, even if just a little…”

“Ah.”

Gismond, flustered, accepted the flowers.

“Thank you.”

And that was all it took.

Once the woman took the first step, the others—who had held back out of respect—eagerly approached.

“Please accept my gift too!”

“Could you tell us exactly what happened in the capital?”

“What was the demon like?”

“Lord Gismond, you’re so handsome!”

‘…Maybe following Fernan isn’t such a bad idea after all.’

Surrounded by the crowd, Gismond grinned from ear to ear.

***

“Ugh…”

He woke up with intense thirst and hunger.

His vision was dark, damp air brushed against his skin.

“Where… am I?”

He tried to move, but the sound of metal stopped him.

Clank—

He was shackled. Why?

He tried channeling mana, but it wouldn’t respond.

The shackles seemed designed to suppress magical energy.

“Why am I…?”

In this situation? Who dared do this to him?

“Who the hell dares shackle me!?”

He shouted with force.

His voice echoed in what seemed to be a small underground cell.

Shortly after.

Clunk… Creeeeak—

A huge iron door opened,

and someone entered.

“Oh, you’re finally awake.”

“Who are you?! How dare you?!”

It was too dark to see his face, and his voice was unfamiliar.

“Ah, calm down. We haven’t kidnapped or imprisoned you. Nor have we bound you against your will.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe that!?”

“Seems there’s a misunderstanding. Don’t you remember anything?”

“Remember?”

“Yes, your last memory.”

At those words, he forced his mind to go back. The fragments slowly began to resurface.

The moment of victory at the Grand Magic Tournament.

Professor Dominique’s congratulations, and the talk about a new theory of illusion magic.

“Ugh…”

Carlo brought a hand to his head; a sharp pain pierced through.

“I was… hypnotized…”

When he looked into Professor Dominique’s eyes, the demonic energy hidden within had taken control of his mind.

He tried to resist, but it was already too deeply embedded.

“Good to hear you remember.”

“…What exactly happened?”

“Professor Dominique was corrupt. He summoned the 65th demon, Andrealphus, and you, Carlo Deneb, fought on his side.”

“I-Impossible!”

Carlo denied it forcefully, but deep down he knew it was true.

The hazy memories of that mental control still floated in his mind.

“It’ll be easier if you see it yourself.”

The man took out a magic register and channeled mana into it.

An image appeared—Carlo, with lifeless eyes, fighting Verian Kalburdern and Gismond Ert.

“…That was really me?”

“Yes. But don’t worry too much. Very few people know this truth.”

Most of the attention had been focused on the demon invasion, so almost no one knew Carlo had been controlled by a demon.

“Just three people.”

He held up three fingers.

“The two you fought, and Lord Fernan.”

“Fernan? Did you say Fernan?”

At that name, a chill ran down Carlo’s spine.

He felt like prey caught in a predator’s trap.

“Lord Fernan took pity on you. That’s why he chose to keep this a secret and ordered you be treated here.”

“Treated? Like this?”

“We had no choice. You lost control multiple times due to the demonic hypnosis. And we couldn’t allow you to kill us while we were trying to cure you, right?”

“…How long was I unconscious?”

“Let’s see…”

The man counted on his fingers.

“About two months, maybe.”

“That long?”

“Yes. And we were just starting to have problems. We’ve tried to hide your condition, but your family has sent several letters asking about you.”

“Luckily, you woke up just in time.”

The man smiled kindly.

“…And what exactly do you want?”

“Pardon?”

“I know you’re a servant of Fernan. And I know he’d never do this for free.”

“‘Servant’ is a harsh word, but not entirely wrong.”

“What Lord Fernan wants isn’t anything difficult. In fact, it might be something you want as well.”

“You talk too much.”

“Before I say it, let me show you something.”

He pulled out another magic register.

“Do you know why Verian Kalburdern, former subordinate of Ludger Schwaben, ended up becoming a close friend of Aint Armian?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

A reasonable question.

Many at the Academy had wondered the same—how that guy, defeated by Aint and scorned by Ludger, suddenly became one of his best friends.

“Lord Fernan only wants one thing from you.”

The man smiled and activated the register.

“To do the same thing Verian Kalburdern did.”

The image began to play—the battle between Aint and Verian, infected by demonic energy.