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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 165

Chapter 165

After‌​⁠ notifying Lucian of‍​​ his visit, Tristan⁠ immediately set out​ for the north​‍ at the head‍⁠​ of five hundred‍‍ soldiers.

The‍⁠⁠ feudal lords showed‌​ their displeasure when‍‌‌ they saw Tristan‌ passing through the‌‌‍ vicinity of their‌‍ territories with an​​‍ army, and it‌⁠ did not take‍​ long for them⁠⁠ to lodge formal‌ complaints.

However,‍ Tristan was not​​ the least bit⁠⁠ shaken by the​‌‌ protests.

“I’m‍ only passing along⁠‌‌ the road. I haven’t even set⁠‍ foot in the​‍​ villages you govern.‌‌ Why are you⁠⁠ reacting so exaggeratedly?‍​ If you are​⁠⁠ vassals of the‌​ Empire, show a magnanimity befitting your‍‍⁠ position.”

Faced​ with such a brazen response, the‍‍‌ lords were filled​⁠‍ with anger, but⁠⁠⁠ even so they‌​⁠ did not attack‌‍ Tristan.

After‍‍⁠ all, they had​ suffered no real​ damage. Mobilizing troops‌ based solely on⁠ a sense of‌ threat lacked sufficient‌‍ justification.

Moreover,⁠‌ it was well​‍⁠ known that Tristan,​​ expelled from his‍‌‌ house by Jordi,​‌​ was cornered and⁠‍‌ full of resentment.​⁠⁠

Provoking‌‌ someone pushed to‍‌‌ the limit merely⁠​‍ out of displeasure‌ could trigger unpredictable​ retaliation.

Thanks‍ to these concerns,​‌ Tristan managed to‍‍ advance toward the‌‍‌ north without anyone​ daring to stop‍⁠‍ him.

“It’s​‌ ridiculous. In times⁠ of peace, these⁠‍‌ people would attack‍⁠ me without hesitation.⁠​‌ But now, in‍ a chaotic era​‍ full of enemies⁠ on all sides,‌‌⁠ they don’t even​ dare touch me.‍ Is this the‌ contradiction of the‍ age?”

“Be⁠​ that as it‍ may, for us‌ it’s fortunate, but​⁠⁠ is it really⁠​‍ fine to act​​‍ with such brazenness?”​

The‌‍ one who spoke‍‍​ with a worried​ expression was Diego,‍ a knight who​ had served as‍⁠ his lieutenant for​⁠ many years and‌⁠‍ Tristan’s childhood friend.⁠​‌

“For‌​⁠ now we are‍ safe, but after⁠​ this the neighboring‌⁠ lords will harbor⁠ resentment toward you.‍‍‍ This conduct could⁠​⁠ bring serious consequences⁠‍‌ in the future.”⁠‌‍

“I⁠⁠ know. But we⁠‍ have no other‌‍ option.”

“I‍‍ understand that, having‌⁠ nowhere to station‌‍‌ the troops, we‌ must bring them‍​ with us. I was just thinking‍⁠ that perhaps we‍⁠ could show a bit more consideration…”⁠​⁠

“That’s‌ not what I mean.”

“Then…?”⁠

“Tell‍⁠ me the truth,⁠‍​ Diego. How do‌ you think others‌‌‌ see me right‍‍‌ now?”

At‌ Tristan’s question, Diego⁠‌ closed his mouth.⁠

Telling​‌ the truth plainly‌ could be humiliating.​

But​​⁠ that silence itself‍ was the clearest‌‌⁠ answer to Tristan’s⁠ situation.

“I’ve‌ fallen into disgrace.‍​​ All I have⁠​ left is a minimal chance to⁠‍‌ recover. And right​‍‍ now, I’m nothing‍ more than a sewer rat begging⁠‌ for patronage while‍​‌ flaunting that small​‍ hope before anyone‍ willing to look.”‌

“My‌‍ lord!”

“I’m​‍​ not lamenting. Nor‌‍‍ have I lost‍ confidence. I’m simply‍‍‍ expressing how others‌ see me. Tell‍​ me, who, seeing​ me like this,​​ would consider me​​ the true heir​⁠ of Valdeck?”

He⁠⁠⁠ had no territory‌ where he could‌‌ rest his body.​⁠

His⁠ only forces were​‍‍ five hundred elite⁠ soldiers, supported by‌ his maternal family.‌‍​

And​​ even so, without​‌ stable income, he​‍ could barely maintain‌‌ them by selling‍‍ belongings one after‌ another.

It‍⁠‍ was a situation​‌‍ so unstable that​ a slight push⁠​​ would be enough‍‌​ for everything to‍‌‌ collapse.

“That’s⁠‍ precisely why I must be brazen.‍ Being brazen even⁠​ in the midst⁠⁠ of desperation is‍​⁠ a form of‍​ composure, of confidence…‌ and also a sign of potential.”​⁠

“…!”​

“Tell​ me, Diego. Would‍⁠‍ you find extraordinary​⁠ someone who crawls‌ about with a miserable attitude? Or​ someone absurdly brazen?”⁠

Diego’s‍‍⁠ face flushed with​ shame.

He​ had believed that‍​​ Tristan’s brazenness was⁠​ nothing more than‌ the pride left⁠‌​ over from his⁠​ days as the‍ firstborn of Valdeck.‍‍

But⁠​⁠ in reality, it‌ was a way​‍ of showing the⁠ world that he​‍ was not finished⁠⁠‍ yet, that he‌​ still had possibilities.‌​

“Forgive⁠⁠ this fool for‌​ not having understood‍‌ your intention!”

“Leave‌⁠ it. Most will‌‌​ see me as‌‍‍ a rude scoundrel⁠‍​ anyway. Only a few will be‍​ able to see⁠ something extraordinary in​​‍ me.”

But​ if he were‌ lucky, among those​‌ few might appear‍‍ someone willing to​⁠‍ become his patron.‍​‌

That​ was exactly what​‌​ Tristan was seeking‌ that patron who​​ might, someday, appear.​‍‌

Winning​​ the favor of‍​‍ mediocrities was worth‍‌​ nothing compared to‍ obtaining the backing‌‌‍ of a single‌​⁠ suitable person.

‘Though​​‌ it’s possible that‌ that third brother‍​ has already seen⁠​‌ through all of​ this…’

Tristan​ felt a bitter⁠​‍ taste of defeat‍ rise from his⁠‍​ stomach and pressed‍‍⁠ his lips together.⁠​⁠

He‌‍ hadn’t even met​ him yet, and​⁠​ already felt as⁠ though he were‍ losing momentum.

This‍‌‌ was no time⁠‌​ to falter.

Even⁠‌ if it were​ feigned confidence, he‌‍⁠ had to force​ it and keep⁠ moving forward.

‘I​‍ don’t have to‍‌⁠ cling only to‌ the third. Even‍ in the north‍​‍ there will be‌​‌ ambitious people. With⁠ a bit of​ luck, I might​‌ also find another​‍‌ patron.’

Either​⁠ way, this was⁠ a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.​

If​‍ he let it‌⁠‍ slip away, he‍ would probably not⁠‌‌ set foot in‌​ the north again‌‌⁠ for decades.

With‌⁠ the determination to‌‍ find a patron,⁠ Tristan’s eyes shone‍‍ with intensity.

To‍​ reclaim the place​ that rightfully belonged‌ to him.

And‌‌ to expel the‌ traitor who was‍‍​ sullying his family.‍​‍

***⁠​⁠

“I’d‌‌​ heard that the​​ people of the‌ north were rough,‍ so I was​​⁠ a little worried,⁠‍ but it seems⁠​ everyone is rather⁠‍‌ calm. An army​⁠ passes near their‍​⁠ territories and they‌⁠ don’t even protest⁠‌‌ once…”

It‍⁠‍ had already been⁠​ fifteen days since‌⁠‌ Tristan entered the​‌ north.

Diego​​​ spoke to him‌‍⁠ with, for the​⁠ first time in⁠​⁠ a long while,‍‌ a relaxed expression.​ The journey had⁠‌​ been so peaceful​⁠ that the accumulated‌ tension had finally‍ dissipated.

“Besides,‍ the climate is‍ warmer than I expected. With this,⁠ there’s no need‌‍‍ to spend a fortune on cold-weather‍⁠ equipment.”

“…That’s‌‍ not a good⁠‍ sign.”

However,​​​ Tristan muttered with​‍ a hardened expression,‍⁠​ as if that⁠⁠​ tranquility unsettled him.​‍‌

Diego⁠‌ tilted his head,⁠ not understanding his‌‍ lord’s concern.

“Not‌ a good sign?‍​‌ Compared to other​‌ regions where there’s​ always tension, this⁠‌‌ seems much better.”⁠‌

“No​ lord, unless he’s‍‌‌ an idiot, would‍​ let an army‍​ pass without feeling​ threatened. And the⁠‌ fact that there‍‌ hasn’t been any‍‌ reaction at all‍​ means only one‍ thing.”

“One​ thing…?”

“That‍‍​ someone is restraining‍‍ all the lords‌‍‍ of the north.”​‍‍

There‌⁠​ was only one⁠ person with enough‌​‌ power to pressure​⁠ all the lords​ of the region.​‌

Lucian​⁠ Grimaldi Valdeck.

The⁠⁠‌ undisputed sovereign of⁠ the north.

Tristan‌ felt the gap‍ between them become‌ overwhelming.

‘I​​‍ don’t know whether​ they follow him⁠​‍ out of fear​ or because they‌ truly admire him,‌⁠ but for me,‍ this is the​⁠​ worst possible scenario.’‌⁠​

He‌‍ had thought that‌⁠‌ even if Lucian​‍⁠ rejected him, he‍‌ could still find⁠‍‍ another ambitious lord‍⁠‌ willing to support‍ him.

But​⁠ now, the entire​‍ north trembled at‍​‍ a single word‌‍‍ from Lucian.

In‍ that case, even‍‍ if someone saw⁠​‍ potential in Tristan,​‍‌ they would give‍‌‍ up out of​ fear of Lucian.‌

‘Fine.‍⁠‍ If that’s how‍⁠‌ it is, then​​ it’s better to​ receive Lucian’s support⁠‌‌ directly.’

If‍‌ there were no​‌​ other paths, all​ that remained was‌ to carve one‌‌ open with all‍ his strength.

Tristan‍ suppressed any weakness‌‌ and continued forward.​

But⁠ a few days‌ later, upon arriving‍⁠ at Asagrim, the⁠ determination he had‌‌⁠ managed to gather​‍ shattered to pieces.​​

“The…‌‍‌ the white wall?”⁠

Upon​⁠‍ seeing a wall‍ identical to that​⁠⁠ of Tibron, Tristan‍⁠‍ exclaimed in genuine‌‍​ astonishment.

He‍​ had believed that​​​ such a perfect​⁠‍ wall existed only‌‌ in the imperial‍‍​ capital. How could⁠​​ there be something‍​ like this in‍⁠​ a corner of⁠ the north?

As‍⁠⁠ Tristan stood frozen,​ unable to speak,‌ a voice arose‍‍​ at his side.‍

“It’s⁠‍​ been a long⁠‌‍ time, First Young⁠‍⁠ Master.”

“…!”‌‌

Everyone,‌ Tristan included, flinched​‌ and turned their​​ heads.

Recognizing‌ the familiar face​ on a snow-covered​​ hill, Tristan asked​‍⁠ without thinking.

“Lady⁠⁠ Felicia… since when⁠⁠ have you been⁠‍ here?”

“I‌​‌ was observing from​‌ the wall. As‍‌‌ soon as I confirmed your arrival,‌ I came immediately.”‌‌‍

“You‍‌ came running? But‌ the distance from​ the wall to⁠⁠‌ here is—”

“It‌‍ seems you never⁠ saw my father‌‌ run in his‍ lifetime.”

Tristan’s‌​‌ eyes trembled at​​ the implication of‍ those words.

If⁠⁠ it was someone‍‍ worthy of the‌ title of Swordmaster,‍​‍ that was not‌‍ impossible.

And⁠ at the same‌⁠‍ time, it meant⁠‌ that she herself​‍ had reached that‌​ level.

Eisen​⁠ had only obtained‌⁠ the title of‍​ Swordmaster upon reaching‌‌ middle age.

To​⁠‍ speak of a comparable level at‍ such a young​​ age—was it arrogance‌‍‍ or confidence?

The‍ people around looked‌ at Felicia with‍‌ stunned expressions.

However,‍ she continued speaking‍⁠⁠ without batting an‍​‍ eye.

“His‍‍ Excellency is waiting.⁠ Please follow me.”⁠

***⁠⁠​

From⁠ the moment he⁠‍⁠ arrived in Asagrim,​ everything was a constant succession of‍ shocks for Tristan.‌⁠⁠

Streets‌ so crowded that​‌ it was difficult‍​​ to find even‌‌‌ a single vacant⁠⁠ house.

Northern​​ inhabitants with bodies‍‍‍ even larger than​ those of robust‌‍​ adult men.

Commercial‍ districts and artisan‍‍​ streets as active‌⁠ as those of⁠ a major city.‍‌‌

Even⁠⁠​ compared to Kelheim,⁠‍​ the heart of‍‌​ the Valdeck lineage,‍‍ it did not‍⁠ seem inferior at​‌‍ all.

‘Was‍ this place really‌​​ abandoned for almost‍​​ a thousand years?​⁠​ And to think‌ the emperor granted‍ it to Lucian​‌ only a few⁠​​ years ago… how‌‍ is this possible?’‌

Tristan‍ swallowed hard at​‍⁠ the speed of‍ development that defied‌‍‍ all common sense.‌

He​ knew Lucian was‌‌ capable, but this​‍‌ was excessive.

No​‍‌ matter how much⁠‍⁠ imperial support one​‌ received, the development​‍ of a territory‍​ took time.

“We’ve‌⁠ arrived at the‌‍ audience hall. Please,​⁠ go ahead.”

Felicia’s‌ voice pulled Tristan‌‌ out of his⁠‌ thoughts.

When‍ he looked up,‌‍‍ he saw that⁠⁠ a massive door‍​​ had already opened‌‌‌ silently.

Lucian⁠ appeared between the⁠‍​ doors and, upon⁠ seeing Tristan, smiled.⁠‍

“It’s⁠ been a long​ time, brother. Have‌⁠‌ you been in​⁠ good health?”

Tristan⁠ inhaled deeply before‍ responding.

“Yes,‍ I’ve been well.​ You, Third, have⁠‌‌ become much more‍⁠ imposing than before.‌ If Father could‌‍ see you now,‌ he would be‌‌‍ proud.”

“…!”​⁠‌

Such​‍⁠ familiar address made⁠​⁠ the vassals frown​‍​ in displeasure.

Unlike‍⁠ Tristan, who held‌‌‌ no title, Lucian​‌‍ was a duke‌​ and a border‌‍ marquis.

For⁠ a half-brother to‌ address him that‍‌‌ way was a great discourtesy.

However,​​‌ Lucian let out‌‍ a laugh and​⁠ descended from the⁠⁠ throne.

“You‌​‍ haven’t changed, brother.​ Come, get closer.⁠‍‍ Let’s embrace as⁠ brothers after such‍ a long time.”⁠‌

Embrace?​‍ When had they​ ever embraced?

Tristan​ smiled bitterly inwardly,‌ but stepped forward⁠‍ in silence.

Since​‌ Lucian had set‍ the tone, Tristan⁠‌​ had no choice​​ but to play​‌ along.

But​​⁠ he managed to‌‌​ take only a few steps before⁠ stopping dead in‌‍‌ his tracks.

‘…What‌⁠ is this?’

A strange weight fell⁠⁠‍ upon his body.​

He​‌ tried to lift⁠‍‌ his foot, but⁠ it was as‌ if a rock‍​ were pinning him‌​ to the ground.⁠

“Hngh!”⁠

Thud!‌​‍

Tristan⁠ tore his foot‍ free with all‍ his strength to‌ shake off the​‌​ unknown pressure.

But​⁠ the foot barely​‍ moved before slamming‌​ back into the⁠​‌ ground.

“What⁠ the hell… ngh!”‍

The⁠ pressure suddenly increased,⁠ causing Tristan to‍‍⁠ stagger.

At​‍​ first it was‌ merely difficult to‍⁠⁠ move, but now‍ even standing he‍‌ felt as if‍ his bones were​‍ creaking.

Realizing‍⁠ the danger, he‌​ activated his mana‍ reinforcement, but the​⁠‌ pressure increased in‍⁠ the same proportion.‌‌

‘Damn​‌⁠ it… if this⁠‍ continues, my organs‍​⁠ are going to‍​‍ burst…’

Unable‌‌ even to speak,‌ Tristan endured the​ pressure on his‌⁠⁠ feet when a voice, tinged with‍ laughter, reached his‍ ears.

“Brother,⁠​‌ why did you‌‌​ suddenly stop? Come​‍⁠ on, get closer.‍‌ You have to‌​⁠ embrace this younger‌⁠ brother.”

Tristan’s⁠​‍ ear, drenched in‌​ cold sweat, caught‌‍‍ a voice filled‍‍ with laughter.

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