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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 109

Chapter 109

Royal​ inheritance.

At‌‌​ those words, Eisen⁠ went completely stiff.​‌ Even in this​​⁠ era dominated by‍ the Empire, royal​​​ houses still existed,‌⁠⁠ though they were‍ rare.

Countries‌​​ that had not‌⁠⁠ been fully annexed⁠⁠​ and remained as​‍‍ vassal states.

But‍⁠‍ if you added‍⁠​ the word “inheritance”⁠ to that, the⁠​ story changed completely.‍‌‍

“You⁠‌ don’t mean it’s‌ something left by⁠ the previous Duke​ Grimaldi?”

“To‌‌‍ be precise, it’s‍‌‌ not a single​ item, but several.”‍

Not‌‍ a single item,⁠⁠ but several? Could‌⁠ the fallen Grimaldi​ really have had‌‍ the means to​⁠ leave behind multiple‍‌ legacies?

Though‍​ doubtful, Eisen couldn’t​⁠ contain his curiosity​⁠ and opened the‍ box.

“An‌‍⁠ armor?”

An​ armor of pure‍​‌ white, reminiscent of⁠‌ platinum. More precisely,​⁠​ only the breastplate⁠ of the full⁠‍⁠ set was stored‍‍ inside the box.⁠‍

As​‌​ soon as Eisen⁠ pulled it out⁠​⁠ completely, his eyes⁠‍‍ widened.

“In​‌​ this world…!”

Just‍‍‍ by the touch‍‍ of his fingers,‌‍ he knew. Among⁠‌​ all existing artisans,‍ there was no​‌​ one capable of‌‍ forging something like​‌ this. He didn’t​‍ even know what‌‍ metal it was‍​‍ made from, but‍ it was lighter​‌ and more durable‍‌​ than any armor‍ he had ever⁠‍‍ seen.

Moreover,​‍‍ the runes engraved⁠ between its plates​ dispersed the surrounding‍‍​ mana, as if‍​ blocking all external​‍​ interference.

‘It’s‌‌⁠ not just tough.‍‍ It clearly also​⁠‍ protects against magical‍⁠⁠ attacks.’

Unfortunately,‌ Eisen couldn’t fully‍‍⁠ understand the effects​ inscribed on the‍‍ armor. He knew‍ swordsmanship, but when‌‍ it came to‍‌‍ magic, he was⁠ completely ignorant.

While‌​‌ he examined the​‍ breastplate in a daze, Lucian’s voice​⁠⁠ pulled him back​​⁠ to reality.

“I’d⁠​ like to ask‍⁠ you to test​ its durability, Sir​⁠​ Eisen.”

“Test‍ it? You’re not⁠ thinking of the⁠​⁠ kind of durability‌‍ test I’m imagining,‌⁠⁠ are you?”

“Exactly⁠ that. Cut it‍‌​ with all your​​⁠ strength.”

“Ha!”‌​‌

Eisen​‌‌ swallowed the gasp‌‍ of astonishment that‍⁠‌ almost escaped him.‌

He‍⁠ had seen very⁠‍ few armors as⁠​ flawless as this​ in his entire​ life. And now‍‍‌ they were asking‍​ him to destroy‌ it with his​‌⁠ own hands.

“Your​‍ Highness, an armor⁠‌⁠ of this level‌⁠ needs no testing.‌ Just one glance⁠ is enough to‍ know it’s among​ the best ever⁠‍​ made.”

“Even‌‍⁠ so, wouldn’t it⁠ be good to‍​ know the limit‌ of the impact‌‌ it can withstand?”‌

“…If⁠ this were a common item, that⁠ would make sense.‍​‍ But destroying something‌‌‌ this irreplaceable would‌​ be like smashing⁠ a treasure with​​ our own hands.”​‌

“Then⁠​ cut it, just‍‍‍ as I asked.”‍‌‌

“What?”⁠‍‌

“This⁠ armor is a mass-produced item.”

“…!”​‍

This​‍‍ time, Eisen couldn’t‌​ hide his expression.‍

A mass-produced item? Something‌‌‌ this precious?

He​⁠ was so shocked​ that he stood‌‍‍ up on the⁠ spot.

“You’re‍​ saying this is​‍​ really mass-produced?”

“More⁠ accurately, a mass-produced​ item from ancient‍‍ times. Over a thousand units are‌ still preserved today.”‌‌‌

“Hahaha!”⁠‍

A disbelieving laugh escaped​‌‌ Eisen’s mouth. Not⁠‌ a hundred, but⁠⁠‍ over a thousand.​ If a thousand‍​ men marched equipped‍​ with this armor,​ what kind of⁠ sight would that‍ be?

Just​ imagining it sent‍⁠ shivers down his⁠ spine.

‘Even‌​‍ a unit of⁠‍‍ recruits could take‍ a fortress with‍⁠ ease.’

That‌‍⁠ thought crawled down‍⁠‌ his back like⁠​‍ a chill.

That⁠ alone would be‍‌ enough to conquer⁠ a fortress—but what⁠ if those thousand‌ weren’t recruits, but‌‌ seasoned soldiers hardened⁠‍ by countless battles?​ Or worse yet,‌ if they were‌‍⁠ all knights trained‌⁠ in swordsmanship?

“Sir​‌ Eisen.”

At‍ the sound of⁠‌ his name, Eisen‌ snapped back to‍‍⁠ reality and looked​​⁠ again at the​⁠​ armor. It was‍​ still a treasure,‌ but if more​ than a thousand‌ remained, breaking one‌⁠⁠ here wouldn’t be​‌‍ a huge loss.​

Determined,​⁠ he picked up‌‍ the wooden sword‌​ beside him.

“You’re‍⁠⁠ going to cut​⁠ it with a wooden sword, not‍ a real one?”‌‌‍

“If‌‍​ I use a real sword, this‍ stops being a test.”

It​‍ might have sounded‌ arrogant, but it​ was the plain⁠⁠​ truth. No matter‍ how durable it​ was, it was​ still just a motionless object.

With​‍‍ a real sword,‍‍ he would slice‍ it in two⁠ easily, making the‌‌ test pointless.

Zuum—⁠‌

When‌ Eisen gripped the‍ wooden sword with⁠​​ both hands, condensed‌ mana began to​⁠​ ripple around him.‌‍

Compared‍ to a real⁠ sword, the strike⁠ would be duller,⁠⁠ but with that‍⁠​ amount of mana,‍ it was practically‍‍ equivalent to a siege ram.

After​​ steadying his breathing,‌​ Eisen swung the‍⁠ sword like a flash of lightning.‌​

Crash!⁠​⁠

A deafening roar, like⁠​ thunder crashing from‍ the sky, rang​‍⁠ in Lucian’s ears.‍

The‍‍ runes engraved on‌ the armor clashed​​ with the Swordmaster’s​‌​ strike and tore⁠‍‌ apart one after⁠⁠​ another. They glowed‌‍​ continuously as they‍‍ broke, trying to⁠​‌ absorb the impact.‍‌​

Finally,‍ when the last​​⁠ rune lost its⁠​ glow and all⁠⁠ defensive effects dissipated—‌

“…Haa.”‍​‍

A murmur escaped Eisen’s⁠​ lips—unclear whether it‍​ was admiration or​​ shock.

Through​‍ the cloud of​‌‌ dust, Lucian saw‌ the wooden sword‍ embedded in the⁠ armor. It had‍ pierced and torn‌ roughly a third​ of the breastplate⁠‍ but had not‍​​ gone all the​‍ way through.

If‍⁠‍ someone had been‌⁠ wearing it, they​‌ would have undoubtedly​ died, but the‍ fact that it‌⁠​ had withstood a Swordmaster’s blow without⁠‌ splitting in two‌ said a lot⁠ about its durability.‍‍

“Your​‌ Highness… what exactly​ did the previous‍‌ duke leave behind?”‌‍⁠

In⁠‍ Eisen’s eyes, there⁠ remained only pure⁠ doubt. How had‍ the fallen Grimaldi‌​ preserved more than‌​ a thousand items​⁠ like this?

Lucian​‍ held his gaze⁠ and smiled slightly.‌⁠‍

“I’ll‍‍​ tell you after​⁠​ we wipe out‍ Calix.”

***‌⁠

Norvek​‍‌ murmured, stunned, at‍‍ the unexpected report.‍‌

“You’re⁠ saying they accepted​ my proposal for‌⁠‌ a duel?”

“Yes,‍‌ my lord.”

“And​ why?”

“…”‌

Palmir,⁠‍⁠ a knight of⁠ Count Calix’s house,‌​‌ shut his mouth‌​ at his lord’s​ question.

How‌‌‌ was he supposed⁠‌ to know what‍​‍ those people were‌⁠ thinking? Norvek knew‌⁠⁠ that too, yet⁠ he couldn’t help⁠⁠ asking.

After⁠ all, he had⁠‌​ never imagined they​ would accept the​ proposal.

‘Are‍‌ they so confident‌ they’ve gone mad?‌ Are they going‍‍⁠ to abandon that​ wall and come‌ out?’

The⁠ wall of Asagrim⁠‌ was, without exaggeration,​⁠‍ impossible to breach‍ without the help‍⁠ of an internal⁠‌⁠ traitor or some‌‌⁠ special method like⁠‌ magic.

It⁠ was so solid​ that it would‌ barely even require‌​​ guards to be‍⁠ stationed there. Norvek’s​‍‌ proposal of a duel had been‍ more of a desperate attempt, born​​ of impatience at‌‍ finding no way‍⁠ to overcome the‌ wall.

And⁠ yet now they​ were saying they‌ would come out⁠ voluntarily.

“Don’t⁠​‌ tell me they‌‌ really believe it‌‌ will be just⁠ a duel?”

“I​‌ don’t think so.”‌​

After‍​ having even attempted⁠ an assassination, there‍​ was no reason‍‌‌ at all to‍‌⁠ trust Norvek.

Most‍‌ likely, they had‍⁠ accepted knowing perfectly‍⁠ well it was​ a trap, because⁠‌ they had their‍‌ own plans as‍ well.

“Perhaps​ they’ve decided to‌ abandon even the⁠‌​ fight over legitimacy.⁠ They might pretend⁠​ to accept the‍ duel and, once‌‌ close, strike us‌‍ all at once.”‍⁠​

“If‌ that were the⁠‍ case, they would‍​ have stayed behind⁠‍‍ the wall and‍⁠ waited for our‍⁠​ supplies to run‌‌​ out. Giving up​‍‌ legitimacy and attacking​ right when the​​⁠ enemy is strongest‍‌⁠ makes no sense.”‍‌‌

“There’s​⁠ a chance that​⁠‌ the Swordmaster we’ve⁠‍ only heard rumors​‌ about has joined‌​⁠ them. With his⁠ help, instead of‌‍‍ mind games, they⁠ might try to‍ lure us out‍‍⁠ first.”

“If‍⁠ he begged victory​ from a Swordmaster‌ who isn’t even⁠‌​ his vassal, but​​ his father’s, who‌ would recognize it?​​‍ Unless he’s an‌ idiot, he’ll try⁠ to finish it‍ with his own‍⁠‌ hands.”

“My‌​ apologies. That’s the​‍ limit of the​ strategies I can‌ imagine.”

Seeing‍​ Palmir frankly admit‍‍ his inadequacy, Norvek‍‍ let out a sigh. In the‌​ past, he would⁠ have tried to​⁠ wring his mind‍ dry, but since​‌‍ deciding to abandon‌‌‍ his life, he‍​ had become excessively‍ honest.

Norvek‌ knew the reason,‌ yet it still​‌ made him uncomfortable.‍⁠‌

“If‌ we could always⁠ see through the‌⁠ enemy’s intentions, we‍ wouldn’t be in‍‌⁠ this situation.”

“What‌​ do you wish⁠ to do? If‌‍ you’re worried about​⁠ a stratagem, you‌‌ can always cancel.”‍

“No.‌​ We’ll accept. The​ benefit is too⁠ great to discard‌ just because it’s​‍‍ suspicious.”

No‍ matter what the‍​‍ enemy was plotting,‍ the fact was‌ they would come⁠⁠ out of the‌ wall of their‌‌ own accord. It​​⁠ was a once-in-a-lifetime‌⁠⁠ opportunity, worthy of‌‍​ risking everything.

‘Raven‌‌​ Hill as the‍​ dueling site? How‍​ ridiculous.’

A midpoint between five⁠ territories, including Asagrim.‍⁠ The hill bore​⁠ that name because‍​ its summit, always‌‍‌ muddy, resembled a raven’s head.

With‍ insufficient cover to‌‌⁠ hide troops, any‌⁠‍ ambush would be⁠​ discovered immediately. That‍ made the enemy’s​‌ intention clear.

‘Are⁠⁠‍ they so confident⁠‌⁠ of victory that‍ they think, without‌‌ ambushes, it doesn’t⁠​ matter how I come out?’

Crrk.‍‌⁠

The‍​⁠ surge of fury⁠ made Norvek grit⁠ his teeth without‌ realizing it. That‍‌‌ the House of‌ Calix, a great‌‌‌ family that had​ dominated the north‌⁠‌ for centuries, was⁠‌‍ being looked down‍‍‍ on like this⁠‍ by a newly‍⁠‍ arrived brat.

‘Enjoy‌ your imaginary victory‍⁠‌ while you can.’‍

It‍⁠‍ was humiliating, but​‌ still nothing more‌‌⁠ than a fleeting​‍ illusion.

When​‍ death truly came​ close, that brat⁠⁠⁠ would regret every‍⁠ single one of‍‌⁠ his actions.

Just‍ being able to⁠​​ see his face‍⁠​ dyed with terror​​⁠ at that moment⁠ was enough for‌​ Norvek to endure​ humiliations like this⁠​⁠ as many times‍‍‍ as necessary.

***‌‍‌

Three‍⁠⁠ days later, Lucian‌​‌ set out at​‍ the head of‌‍⁠ his army and​ met Norvek at⁠ Raven Hill.

Seeing⁠‌‌ the approaching forces​ in the distance,⁠ Lucian rubbed his‍‍ chin.

‘Just​​ as the report​‌ said, they have⁠​‌ twice as many⁠ troops as we⁠ do.’

Lucian⁠⁠ commanded the Blue⁠​‌ Rose Knights loaned‍ by the Empire​​​ and two thousand‌​‌ elite soldiers. Norvek,‌‌⁠ for his part,‍ led the White​⁠​ Bear Knights of‌ Calix and four​ thousand soldiers.

In‍‌ numbers, Calix had‌ an absolute advantage,‍⁠‌ but in training⁠⁠ and equipment quality,‍​ Lucian far surpassed​ them.

If⁠‍ they clashed head-on,‌⁠ the outcome would‌ be difficult to‌ predict.

“Lucian!⁠ Brat, brat—if you’re‍​⁠ not scared to‌‌​ death, take up‌‍‍ your sword and‍⁠‍ stand before me‌ right now! You’re⁠‍ the one who‍ asked for the‍‌ duel—are you planning​ to back out?!”⁠​

As⁠​ both armies watched‌ each other from​ opposite sides of‌⁠ the hill, Norvek‌⁠ stepped forward and‌‍‌ shouted. At the‍ provocation, Lucian replied‍‍‍ with a mocking​⁠ smile.

“Not⁠​ a chance! How‌ could I turn‌‌ my back on⁠ a decrepit old​‍⁠ man like you?‍‍ Since we’re meeting‌‌‍ again after so‌‍ long, I’ll take‍ care of you⁠ personally.”

“…!?”⁠

Not⁠‌ only Norvek, but‌‌​ even the soldiers‍‍ on both sides⁠ were stunned.

He​‌ was really going⁠⁠‌ to step out‍ for a duel‍⁠‌ as the commander-in-chief?‌ It was nothing​⁠​ more than a provocation, not even‍‍‍ a formal proposal,‌‌ and yet he⁠ accepted without hesitation.‍⁠

As​‌⁠ murmurs spread, Lucian⁠ raised his voice‍​ again.

“But⁠​‍ it doesn’t look‌‍ good for the​​ commander-in-chief to come‍ out from the⁠‌‍ start! If you‌ want me to⁠ appear, first bring‌​ down one of⁠ my knights!”

“What…?”‍‌⁠

“If​‌​ my knight falls,⁠ then I myself‌ will come out‍​ to face you!‌‌‌ What do you​‌⁠ say?”

Palmir,⁠​⁠ beside Norvek, frowned.‌​

Defeat‍‌ just one knight⁠‍⁠ and the commander-in-chief‍‌ would accept the​‍ duel?

It‌​ was becoming harder‍⁠⁠ and harder to‌⁠ understand what he​ was plotting.

“My​ lord, this is​​‍ strange. We should‍‌ observe a bit‍​ more—”

“Are⁠‍ you serious?!”

Before​‍‌ Palmir could finish,‍​⁠ Norvek shouted. Turning‌⁠‌ his head, Palmir​⁠ saw Lucian smiling​‍‌ as he raised​‍⁠ a banner.

“I⁠​ swear by the‍‌ names of Valdeck‌​ and Grimaldi, and‌​ by the eight​ gods of the‌⁠ heavens! The moment‍​‍ my knight falls,‌⁠ I will come‌‌ out alone for⁠‍ a duel!”

He​‌ had sworn not‌‌ only by Valdeck,​⁠ but also by​‍ Grimaldi. Mentioning Grimaldi‍​‍ before the northerners‍ gave that oath⁠‌⁠ a weight impossible​⁠‍ to ignore.

Unless⁠ Calix broke the​ form of the⁠⁠ duel first, Lucian​ could not retract‍ his oath.

Norvek​‍ clenched his fist‍​ tightly.

“Sir‌‍ Palmir.”

“Yes,‍⁠‍ my lord.”

“No⁠​‍ matter how many​⁠ must be sacrificed,​⁠​ send them one​​‍ after another. Until⁠​⁠ we draw that‍‍ brat out, do⁠ not act rashly.”‌

Palmir​‍‌ shuddered at the​‌ order. They were‌⁠ abandoning all prepared‍ plans and stepping⁠⁠⁠ straight into the​‌ ground the enemy‍‌ had set.

He‍ wanted to stop‍‍ him at all‍‌​ costs, but Norvek’s‌⁠‍ eyes, completely unhinged,‍​ made it clear⁠ he wouldn’t listen​⁠‌ to anyone.

‘They’ve​ laid a trap⁠ for us.’

Finally‍‍ realizing the enemy’s‌⁠ intention, Palmir shut‌​‌ his eyes tightly.⁠⁠

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