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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 158

Chapter 158

The⁠​ legacy of the​ northern royal house⁠‍⁠ is different from⁠ the magical artifacts​‌ of the imperial​ family.

Although‍ it includes some‍ armor and weapons,‌‍‌ most of it‌​ requires processing and⁠​ research.

Ingots‌⁠ created with extraordinary‍‍ herbs and plants,‌‍‌ and with ancient‌ techniques; countless grimoires‌‍‌ and methods for⁠ manufacturing magical artifacts.‍⁠

Aside⁠ from a minimal‍ fraction of armaments,‌​​ there is nothing‍​⁠ that can be⁠​ turned into immediate‌‍‍ power.

However,‌‌ unlike magical artifacts‍⁠ whose functioning is⁠‌ not even understood,⁠‌⁠ this legacy allows,⁠ with proper research,‌‌ the reproduction of⁠‍ ancient inheritances believed‌⁠⁠ to have been​⁠ lost.

If‍ the necessary time⁠‌ were invested, it⁠‌ could become a perfect foundation, capable‌⁠‍ of rebuilding foundations⁠⁠‌ comparable to those‍‌ of the empire‍‍⁠ at its peak.‌‌

“Until​⁠ now I had‌ kept it hidden‍‍⁠ out of fear​​⁠ of the imperial​⁠⁠ family, but now,‍ even if I reveal it openly,​‌‌ they won’t be⁠⁠‍ able to do‌ anything. We will‍⁠‌ begin the research⁠‌⁠ officially.”

“Won’t⁠​⁠ this awaken the‌⁠ greed of other​ lords? The silence‍⁠‌ of the imperial‍‌⁠ family means there‍‍ is no longer​ any way to‌‌ prevent territorial wars.”‍

Raymon​​‍ expressed with concern.​

Lucian‍‌‍ let out a brief laugh.

“If‍ they want it,‍ let them come‍ and try to⁠⁠⁠ take it from‌‌ us. Though I doubt they can​‌​ do so in‌ a situation where‍ they don’t even⁠⁠‍ know who is‍​⁠ an ally and‍ who is an⁠‌​ enemy.”

Chaos‌‍ had already begun.​⁠​

In⁠​ a world where⁠​⁠ even yesterday’s allies‍‌‌ could betray you,‍‍‌ who would dare‍ launch an expedition‌⁠ to the north‌‌ solely out of‍ greed?

To‌ exploit a supposed⁠ weakness would mean‌ leaving oneself exposed⁠ to attacks from⁠⁠ all sides.

“Rather,‌ when time passes‌⁠ and allies and⁠‍ enemies become clear,​ then they’ll have​​ room to look‍​ north. Precisely because‍​​ right now no‍ one knows whom⁠‌⁠ to trust, this​​ is the best​ time to reveal‌‍⁠ the legacy.”

“I⁠⁠‌ understand. Then, whom‌⁠‍ will you put​‌‍ in charge of​‌​ each area of‍ research?”

“The⁠ medicinal herbs will,​‌​ of course, be​⁠ handled by Ian.‍⁠ As for forging,‌ there’s still no⁠‍ suitable candidate, so‌ we’ll have to​‌ search calmly. And‌‍​ everything related to‍⁠ magic…”

Lucian’s‌⁠ gaze settled on​ Marius.

He​​ lowered his head,‍‌ trying to feign⁠‌‌ indifference, but the⁠ trembling of his⁠‌⁠ arms betrayed him.​⁠​

Lucian‍ observed him in‌‌‍ silence and spoke​ in a low​ voice.

“Marius.”⁠‌‍

“Yes,‍⁠ Your Highness.”

“I’ve‌‍‍ heard that the‌​‌ handling of this‌ matter was quite‌ good.”

“It​‌ was thanks to⁠​‍ the help of‌‍ my two disciples.​ I couldn’t have‍ done it alone.”⁠‌

“Enough‌⁠ modesty. I sent‍​ them with you​‍ precisely to help‍‍ you. If you⁠​‌ had tried to‍‌ do everything alone,‌‌‌ they would have‌‌‍ reproached you instead‍ for why you‍​ brought them.”

“My‌‍⁠ apologies.”

“For⁠ that reason, as⁠‌ a reward, I’m‌‍⁠ going to entrust‍⁠ you with the‌​⁠ position of chief‌ mage.”

Marius’s‍ eyes opened wide‌​‍ and he raised‌ his head without⁠‍‍ realizing it.

It‌ was true that⁠‍ he desired the‌⁠⁠ post of chief​‍ mage in the​⁠‍ north; with his‌ ability, it was‍ a position he‍ could aspire to.‍​

However,‍​‌ because of the​ faults he had‌​ committed, he had⁠ resigned himself to‍‍‍ working at a rank even lower‍‍⁠ than that of‌ his disciple.

“I-I,​‍‍ Your Highness…”

“There’s​⁠ no need to​‍‌ say it, but‍ this is your‌ last chance. If​‌ you do something‍​​ foolish again, then​ you really will​‍ end up relegated​⁠‍ to a corner,​​ devoted only to‍‍ deciphering grimoires.”

“Thank‌‍⁠ you! Thank you​ very much!”

Tears‌ welled up in‍​​ Marius’s eyes.

For​‌ how long had‌​ he feared becoming⁠ a master who⁠⁠​ lived in the⁠⁠⁠ shadow of his‌⁠ disciple’s name, having⁠ achieved nothing himself.‌‌‍

He⁠​​ didn’t know how‌⁠ much longer his‍‍ body would allow‌‌ him to live,⁠‍‌ but at least‌⁠ he would leave​‍ behind the name‌⁠‌ of “chief mage​⁠​ of Asagrim.” It‍​ was as if​ a rope had‍⁠ been lowered to‌ pull him out⁠​‍ of hell.

“Colin,​ I’m sorry for‌⁠ putting you in‌⁠ this situation. In⁠‍​ a way, I’ve‌‍ taken away the​‌ position of chief​ mage that was‌ yours.”

“That’s‍​ not the case.⁠ I can only‌‍⁠ thank Your Highness’s⁠⁠ mercy for caring⁠​ about my master.”​‌⁠

Colin‌‍‍ sincerely thanked Lucian.​⁠

It‌​‌ pained him to⁠⁠ think that his‌‍​ master might die‌ without having achieved​​⁠ anything, sunk in‍​ despair.

Now,​ by yielding the⁠ position to him,‌⁠‍ he would at​ least leave behind​‍‌ a name, and​ that gave him​​ peace of mind.‌​

Lucian‍​ understood what Colin‌⁠ felt, but even‍ so, he intended‌ to compensate him‍ as a sovereign.​

Even‌ if Colin was‍‌ satisfied, the fact⁠⁠‍ that he had⁠ taken away a position remained the⁠ same.

“When⁠ Marius leaves the‍‌ position of chief⁠‌ mage, I will‍⁠​ return it to‍ you immediately. And‍ whatever post you​ hold in the‍‍ future, you will​‍‌ receive treatment equivalent⁠⁠ to that of‍ a chief mage.‍‌ I hope that‌‍‍ will satisfy you.”‍‌‍

“Satisfied​​‌ isn’t the word.⁠‍‌ For me, it’s⁠ more than generous​​ treatment.”

Lucian‌‌ nodded as he‌​ saw Colin trying⁠​​ to hide his‌ surprised smile.

His⁠‍ considerate attitude dispelled‍ any slight unease⁠‌​ that might have​‌‌ remained.

After‌⁠ putting the appointments‍⁠⁠ in order, at‌​ least in broad‍‌ terms, Lucian took​‌ the key of⁠​ the royal house‍ from his clothes.‍‌​

The‌‌ time had come⁠‌​ to show the‍ world proof that‌⁠‌ the legacy of‍⁠ the northern royal⁠ house was real.​‍

***‍‍‌

“What?‍​‌ Duke Lucian has‌⁠ made public the‍‌‍ legacy of the‌​ northern royal house?”‍

“No​ one knew that⁠⁠​ something like that‌‌ had been hidden‌ beneath the White​⁠ Castle for a thousand years?”

“Before⁠‌⁠ that, how in​ the world did⁠​‍ the duke find​⁠ it? He supposedly‍‍⁠ didn’t even have‌⁠ contact with his‌ maternal family!”

With⁠⁠ the revelation of⁠ the legacy of​⁠‌ the northern royal⁠​ house, the empire‌⁠‌ was shaken once‍ again.

A legacy left behind⁠ by a dynasty​⁠‍ from a thousand‌ years ago, and‌‌ not merely magical‌‍​ artifacts used without‍​ understanding how they‍‍ functioned, but the⁠⁠​ fundamental technology that⁠ supported them.

That⁠‍‌ meant that, with​‍ proper research, magical​​ artifacts could be‌ produced again in‍ the present era.‍​

“Damn‌‌⁠ it, isn’t there‍⁠ some way to‍‍⁠ do something? If⁠ we keep giving‌ him time, this‍⁠ will become dangerous.”⁠​​

“Do⁠​ what? Send an‌‍‌ expedition to the‍ north?”

“Hiding‍​​ the royal legacy‌‌‌ from the imperial‌‍ family is already‍‍ a crime. If‍‍​ we form a coalition—”

“That⁠ imperial family is‌⁠‍ keeping absolute silence!⁠​⁠ Without a center​​ to unite them,​​‍ what coalition are⁠‌‍ you talking about!”‍‍‌

“And‍ where do you​ get the confidence‌ that we’d win?​‌‍ Have you forgotten⁠​‌ that the opponent‌​​ is the king⁠‍ of the north?”‍‍⁠

The‌‌⁠ lords briefly debated‍ the possibility of‌‌​ an expedition to‍⁠‍ the north, but⁠‍‍ the idea died‍​‍ out almost immediately.​‌​

The‌ imperial family no‌ longer fulfilled the‌⁠ role of a central axis at​ all, making it​‍​ difficult even to‍ form an allied​‌ force, and above‌ all, the opponent’s‌ power was not‌‍ something that could​ be taken lightly.⁠

Lucian⁠⁠ possessed the White​‌ Castle, as impregnable‍⁠ as an iron⁠ citadel, along with⁠⁠ elite troops that⁠⁠⁠ had once belonged⁠‍​ entirely to the‍⁠‌ imperial family, and‍ even the Order‍ of the Blue‍ Rose.

On⁠⁠‌ top of that,‍‍ he had recently‍ filled almost the‌ entire population of​ Asagrim with the‌ outsiders from beyond‌‍⁠ the snow-covered steppes.‍

A hasty attack would‍‌‌ not only fail‍ to guarantee victory,‌⁠‍ but could lead​‍ to a disastrous‌ defeat that would‍​ mark the beginning​‍‍ of ruin.

When⁠⁠ the lords accepted‌‍ reality and abandoned‍‍ the idea of‍ war, those who‌ stepped forward were⁠ the scholars and‍ the blacksmiths.

“Dozens​‌​ of medicinal herbs​‍ we believed extinct‍⁠‌ are in Asagrim?⁠ And not just‌⁠ one or two,⁠ but even seedlings‌ suitable for cultivation?​⁠‌ I’m going immediately!”‍

“At⁠​‍ my age, I don’t dream of‌ forging legendary weapons.‌ But at least,‍‌⁠ if I could⁠ refine with these⁠‌‍ hands the metals‍​ that only appeared⁠​‌ in old tales…”⁠⁠

“Let’s⁠​‍ go to Asagrim.⁠‌​ To revive a fallen school, there’s‍ nothing left now​‌ but to rely​⁠ on magical grimoires.‌⁠ With some luck,‍‌ we might catch‌‌ the duke’s attention.”‍​

Independent‌ researchers weary of‌ the corrupt alchemists’‌⁠ guild.

Blacksmiths‌‌‍ who wished to‍‌ leave behind an⁠ immortal name before⁠‍ dying. Even unauthorized⁠​ mages from vanished‍‍ schools.

All​‍ those who wanted‌‍ to see the⁠​ relics of antiquity⁠​ with their own‌ eyes began gathering​ in Asagrim.

Among‌ them were many‍ charlatans who overestimated‍‌‌ their abilities, but‍​​ true talents were​ mixed in as‍​⁠ well. The blacksmith​ Malcolm was one‌‍⁠ of them.

“Ha…‍ hahaha.”

Sitting​ in his ramshackle​⁠ smithy, Malcolm chewed‍‌ over the stories‍‍ that had circulated⁠ through the market‍⁠​ today.

They​ said that in‍ the north the‌ scarlet stone, the‌ people’s iron, and⁠‌ even faerie ore—whose‌⁠‌ refining techniques had⁠‍ long been lost—had‍‍ reappeared.

“How‍‌‍ can this be…‍⁠ how can this​‌ be?”

Legendary‌​‌ metals that, though‌‍ they did not‌⁠ reach the hardness⁠⁠ of adamantium, had‌‍ been used in⁠⁠ all kinds of‌ magical artifacts.

Murmuring‌⁠ those names over⁠⁠ and over, Malcolm‌‌ staggered to a corner of the​ smithy and took‌⁠‍ up a bundle​⁠ of books piled⁠⁠ beside some branches.‌​‍

They‌⁠⁠ were volumes handed‌⁠​ down from generation​⁠‍ to generation, recording‍ the refining methods‌​⁠ of ancient metals​​⁠ that had disappeared⁠ long ago.

“If⁠ it had happened‌ a little earlier…​⁠ if it had‌ come to light‌‍ when I was​ a little younger…”⁠‍‌

Burning​‌ tears rolled down​‌ Malcolm’s cheeks.

How‍ many times had‍ he been mocked‍ for treasuring, like⁠ relics, refining techniques​‍ that were already⁠ useless?

Even‌‍ as an adult,‍ he had promised‌‍ himself several times‍‍‍ to use them⁠ as firewood, yet‍‌‍ he was never‌⁠ able to throw⁠​‍ them into the‌‌ flames.

And‌⁠ to think that⁠⁠​ those books—useless and⁠​ burdened only with‍⁠⁠ attachment—would one day⁠‌ finally have real‍ use.

With‌ his eyes closed,‌ lost in memories,⁠‌​ Malcolm suddenly heard​‌ the hurried footsteps​ of his son.⁠‍

“F-father!‍ In Asagrim, the‍‌ relics of the​​ northern kingdom…!”

“I‍​‌ know.”

At​‍ his son’s agitated‌ voice, Malcolm replied‍ briefly and stood​ up.

When⁠⁠⁠ one’s duty was⁠‍‌ clear, no more​‌‌ words were needed.⁠‍

“Let’s‌​​ go.”

“Where‍⁠ to?”

“To‍ Asagrim.”

“……!”‍​‌

“Prepare​​ the hammer and⁠‌‌ pack your things.”⁠

“Yes!”‍‌

The⁠⁠‍ sound of his⁠ son’s hurried footsteps⁠‍‍ leaving echoed in‌​ Malcolm’s ears. At⁠‍⁠ his age, he‌ did not intend‍‍‌ to boast about‌ the greatness of​‍‌ his ancestors.

He‍​ only wanted, with‍ these hands, to‌ reproduce the refining​ techniques they had​ left behind.

That⁠⁠⁠ way, he could⁠‌ prove that his​ forebears had not‍‌⁠ wasted their lives​‌⁠ clinging to a vain hope.

Soon‌⁠ after, fully prepared,​‍‌ Malcolm set out⁠ for Asagrim with⁠ his son, carrying‌⁠⁠ with him refining‌‍​ techniques that had‍ not been used⁠​ even once in‌ many long years.⁠‌‌

***‌

“Excellent.”​‌‍

Baron‌‌ Harald could not‌ hide his smile​ whenever news of‍‌ Lucian reached him.​‍

Not‌⁠‌ only had he‍ completely crushed and⁠ absorbed Calix, but⁠ he had also⁠‌ subdued the outsiders‍‌​ from beyond the​‍ snow-covered steppes and⁠​ filled Asagrim.

Moreover,‍​⁠ he had gained‍⁠‌ the strength to⁠⁠​ intervene in the‍⁠ succession using the​⁠ first prince as⁠⁠ a pretext, and⁠‌ had even made​‌‌ public the relics‍⁠ of the northern​ kingdom.

‘I⁠⁠‌ knew he was⁠ someone extraordinary from​‌⁠ the first time‍​ I met him,⁠ but now I can no longer‍​ imagine how far‌​⁠ he’ll go.’

All‌​‌ Harald had wanted​‌ was for Lucian⁠ to restore the‍⁠ old kingdom and⁠‌ bring order to​ the north.

That‍​‌ alone would have⁠ been enough to​‍ call it a heroic feat; asking⁠ for more would‍⁠ have been excessive.​

Yet⁠‌ Lucian’s achievements far​ surpassed what Harald‌ had imagined.

Where⁠​‍ would that hero‌ finally stop? If⁠ possible, Harald wanted‌ to live to‌‌‌ see Lucian’s final‍⁠ destiny with his‌⁠ own eyes.

‘And​ when he does​‍ stop, at his⁠​ side will be​ the Osgor family⁠‍​ and my son,⁠ that boy Torkel.’‍

Smiling,​ Harald tilted his​​​ cup once more.​ It was then​⁠⁠ that a servant,‌ with an urgent‌⁠ expression, approached and⁠​‍ whispered in his⁠‌ ear.

“My⁠⁠​ lord, Baron Lesta⁠ has come to​⁠​ visit you.”

“What?”⁠⁠

At‌​‌ the unexpected visitor,⁠‍⁠ Harald blinked. Wasn’t​‍ Baron Lesta his‍ son Torkel’s friend?⁠⁠‍

A young lord who⁠ had expelled his⁠⁠ father, aligned with​⁠ Calix, to take⁠⁠​ his place, and‍‍‍ who since then‍⁠‍ had shown absolute⁠‍​ support for Lucian.‌‍

Lately,‍‍ he had even‍‍ escorted Lucian’s relatives⁠ at his request,‍​⁠ earning considerable trust.‌​

“Didn’t⁠‌‍ he even send‌‌⁠ a messenger and​ came in person?”​

“Yes.⁠‌ He came secretly⁠​​ and requests to⁠ meet with the​⁠ utmost discretion.”

“Well​ now…”

If​ it were a lord who had⁠ once allied with‌ Calix, even a minor meeting would‌⁠ require caution.

But‍​‍ both Harald and‍ Lesta had fervently​‍ supported Lucian from​​ the beginning.

Now‌⁠​ that Lucian dominated‍ the north, they‍ could meet openly‍‍‍ without owing anything⁠​​ to anyone, and⁠‍ yet Lesta had‌​ come covertly.

It‍⁠ was suspicious, but​ in the end‍‍ he was on‍‍⁠ the same side⁠‌‌ and a friend​‌⁠ of his son,‍​​ so Harald could​‌‌ not simply refuse​​​ him.

“Guide‌​ the guest to‍‌ the salon and​​​ dismiss the servants‌‍ and attendants. A distinguished guest has⁠​ arrived, so I will personally see‌‌‌ to him.”

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