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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 167

Chapter 167

Even‌ after Tristan’s visit,‍⁠​ mourners continued to‍​​ arrive without pause.‌‌

The‌ mark that Swordmaster⁠‍ Eisen had left‌​​ on the world​‍ was far too‌⁠ great, and the​‍‌ bonds he had‌‍ forged were just⁠‌‌ as varied.

From‌​ knights who had⁠ exchanged only a few words with⁠‌ him, to acquaintances‌ with whom he⁠⁠ had maintained relationships​​​ for decades.

If​​⁠ things were left‍‍​ as they were,​ it seemed the​⁠ visitors would not‌ stop coming even‌ after an entire​⁠‍ year.

But‌⁠⁠ the living cannot‍​‍ cling to the‌‍ dead forever.

When‌​‍ Lucian judged that​ the flow of‌​‌ mourners had reached​‌ its limit, he‍‍​ formally began the‌​​ funeral.

“May‌ the great Swordmaster‌⁠‌ now rest in‍‌ the bosom of‍‍‍ the Eight Gods.⁠ May he find‌⁠​ peace. May this​ empire remember him‍⁠​ forever. And may‌​​ all knights follow‌‌‌ his legacy and⁠ become true knights.”‌⁠​

As​ the one presiding⁠‍‍ over the ritual,​​‌ Lucian spoke a few brief words​‌‌ of farewell and‌ placed the body‍‍​ into the coffin.⁠⁠

The⁠​​ wooden casket, without⁠‍ a single gem​‌⁠ inlaid, faithfully reflected‍‍ the austere personality‌‌​ Eisen had possessed‍‌ in life.

Amid⁠‌‍ a solemn atmosphere,​ the procession and​⁠​ burial concluded, and​​ the commemorative banquet⁠‌ began.

While​ the attendees recalled‌ the achievements of​​​ Swordmaster Eisen, they‍⁠⁠ could not help‍ but glance sideways‌​ at Lucian.

Although⁠⁠ the official period‍ of mourning had⁠‍⁠ not yet ended,⁠ the time for‍ genuine grieving had‍‍ already come to​​ a close.

From‌​ that moment on,‍‍‍ the political stage⁠​ began, with Lucian,‌⁠ the absolute lord‍ of the north,‌​‍ at its center.⁠

‘Now‍‍⁠ that the imperial‍‍ family remains silent,‌​​ the ducal house‌⁠ of Grimaldi is⁠‌‌ the most powerful‍‍‍ unified force after⁠‍ the Roglan Marquisate.‌‌⁠ And with no⁠​‍ nearby enemies, its⁠ potential is even‌⁠‍ greater.’

‘The‍‍‌ future of the‌⁠‌ empire will depend‍⁠⁠ on how Duke⁠ Lucian moves from‌ here on. We‌ must understand his​⁠ intentions clearly.’

The‌⁠ heads of the⁠​‍ various houses waited​​ attentively, their eyes⁠​‍ shining.

It‍ was not long‍​ before Lucian appeared​‌ in the banquet‌‍‌ hall and announced⁠ his future plans.​‍​

“I‌​​ sincerely thank all‍‌‌ of you who‌‍ have come to‌‍‍ pay tribute to‍‌‌ my master. With‍‍‍ this, the funeral⁠‌ rites have concluded.‌ If this were‍‌⁠ an ordinary funeral,‌‍‌ we would continue‌‍‌ the festivities for‍ a few days‌​​ before dispersing. However,‍‌‌ I wish to​‍ hold a somewhat‌⁠ more special event​ in his honor.”‌‌

“Do⁠ you mean the​ blacksmith competition you​⁠‍ mentioned earlier?”

One⁠​​ of the heads‍ of a minor‌‌​ house, with an⁠⁠ impatient temperament, interrupted.‌​‌

Under​‌ normal circumstances, everyone‍⁠‍ would have frowned‌⁠ and reprimanded him,⁠ but this time‍ no one said‌​‍ anything. The others​ were also interested​‍ in that point.⁠

Lucian‍⁠ smiled, as if⁠ understanding the impatience,​​ and explained kindly.⁠‍⁠

“That⁠​​ is correct. I wish to offer​⁠‍ at his grave⁠ a sword forged​‍‌ from fae metal.⁠ However, after so​‍ many years, the​‌‍ method for refining‌​ fae metal has⁠ been lost, so⁠‌ we must first‍​​ select the blacksmiths​ capable of doing⁠​‌ so.”

“Hm.”‍

Low‌​​ murmurs spread throughout⁠‍​ the hall.

Blacksmiths​‍ capable of refining⁠‌‌ fae metal. If‌‌ they truly appeared,​⁠ it would be⁠‍ astonishing, but would​​​ they not be⁠​ useless to them?​‍​ Even if such‍​‌ blacksmiths existed, they​​‍ had no fae​ metal to provide.​​

In​​ practice, it was‍ an event from​ which only Lucian‍⁠‌ would benefit, and‍ the other heads⁠ of house felt​⁠ a bitterness rise​⁠‌ within them.

‘Damn⁠‍ it. Since we‌‌ can’t gain anything​‌‍ from this, Duke⁠​‍ Lucian will take‍​ all the talent‌‍ for himself.’

‘Please‍ let him fail.‍ He is already​​ a powerful force;​ if he grows‍ even stronger, how‍‍ are we supposed⁠⁠⁠ to deal with‌ him?’

Among‍ the heads who‍‌⁠ secretly wished for‌​ Lucian’s misfortune, one‍⁠‌ stepped forward.

“And​ what do you⁠ plan to do‍‍⁠ if, in the​‍‌ end, the blacksmiths​ fail to refine‍‌‍ the fae metal?‌ If there is⁠‍‌ no success at​​‍ all, wouldn’t the‌‍‍ event lose its‍⁠‌ meaning?”

It‍ was a clumsy​ and ill-timed question,⁠⁠⁠ but the questioner‍‌‍ himself appeared confident.​

His‌ attitude suggested that‍ he was not​‍‌ speaking out of⁠ personal interest, but⁠‌​ out of genuine⁠ concern that the‌ event might fail.⁠

Despite⁠ clearly seeing his‌‌​ intentions, Lucian replied⁠‌‌ without losing his‌⁠ smile.

“Hahaha!‌‍‌ How could all⁠ of those blacksmiths​‌‍ fail? Someone is‍ bound to succeed.⁠⁠ Besides, anyone without‍⁠‍ confidence would not​‍ even dare to‌​⁠ try.”

“There​‍⁠ is always that⁠ possibility, isn’t there?⁠ If people with‌ little skill but‍‌ excessive confidence attempt‌‍‌ to refine fae​‌ metal, it could⁠‌⁠ end up being‌‌‍ something embarrassing.”

“Well,‌ I don’t see‌ it that way.⁠ I have no‍​ absolute certainty, but‍⁠ there will probably‌ be success. And‍⁠‌ I also don’t‍‍⁠ think we will‍⁠ have to wait‌⁠ very long to‌​‌ see a successful‍‌ case.”

“What‌​ do you mean‌‌‌ by…?”

The‍‌ head of house,⁠⁠‍ who had let​‍ out an incredulous⁠‌ laugh, stiffened as‍ he grasped the⁠⁠⁠ meaning of Lucian’s‍⁠‍ words.

He‌ claimed to have​⁠ no certainty, yet​ he spoke with‌ complete confidence, without​ the slightest concern.⁠‍

That‌ could only mean‌​​ one thing he‌ had already secured​‍‍ a blacksmith capable​​ of refining fae​⁠‍ metal and planned‌​‌ to present him‌ at the competition.​

‘First​⁠ the legacy of⁠​‌ the northern royalty,‌ then the barbarians​‍‌ beyond the eternal​ snows, and now⁠ even blacksmiths capable‍ of refining fae‍‌‌ metal…’

‘Just‍‌ how much hidden‍ power does he‌ truly have? No‍‌ matter how much‍​ we dig, it‍​‍ seems to have⁠⁠ no bottom.’

The​‌‌ heads of the‌ houses trembled at‍​‌ the power Lucian​ continued to reveal.‍​

If‍​ this was only​⁠⁠ what he showed⁠​‍ openly, how colossal⁠⁠‌ must the forces⁠ be that he⁠‍ had yet to⁠​⁠ reveal? The title⁠‍ of “absolute lord‌ of the north”​⁠⁠ weighed ever more​ heavily on his⁠​⁠ shoulders.

In‌ truth, aside from​‌‌ the royal legacy,‌⁠ most of those‌‍⁠ forces had been​ obtained by Lucian‍‌ at just the​⁠ right moment, so‍ it was all​‌‍ a misunderstanding.

But‌ unaware of the‍ truth, the pressure⁠⁠⁠ they felt toward‍ Lucian only continued‍⁠‌ to grow.

“The‍⁠ sword forged from‌⁠​ fae metal will‌​‍ be offered at⁠‍ the grave by‌⁠‌ the hand of​‍⁠ Lady Felicia, heir‍​‍ of Sir Eisen‌‌ and the new‍‍​ Swordmaster.”

“…Wait‌⁠ a moment, Your​ Highness. New Swordmaster?‌​⁠ What does that‍‌‍ mean?”

Someone‍ frowned, unable to‌ let those words‍​ pass.

They​ accepted that Felicia‌ was Sir Eisen’s‍ heir. But being‍‌ the heir of‌ a Swordmaster and‍‍ actually possessing the⁠ ability of a Swordmaster were two⁠ different things.

Were‍‌ they intending to⁠ grant her the​⁠‍ title of Swordmaster‍⁠ without any proven‌ achievements?

“The‍⁠ title of Swordmaster​ is not inherited​‌​ from one’s predecessor.‍‌‍ It is a noble title obtained‍‌ only when no‌ one can object⁠ that the one‍⁠​ who bears it‍​‌ lacks the merit⁠⁠‍ to be called‌‌​ such.”

“Are⁠‍​ you saying that‍⁠ Lady Felicia is‍⁠ not worthy of‍ being called Swordmaster?”​‍

“How‍‌ could I know?​ She herself has​‍⁠ not yet proven‌​‌ anything, so we‌ cannot speak of‌ merit.”

“Ha…”‍

At‌⁠ the expected reaction,⁠‍ Lucian let out‌​ a short laugh.​​⁠

Those‍​‍ who had not​​⁠ even dared to‍‌ open their mouths‍‌ while Eisen was⁠ alive were now‍ making a fuss,⁠​‍ claiming they could‌⁠​ not recognize it.​

‘Of‍‍‍ course. If they⁠‌⁠ know the weight‍⁠ of the name​‌ Swordmaster, they won’t‍ want to hand‌‌‌ it over to​ others.’

Although⁠‍ it did not‌​ grant real power,‌ it was a title that, by⁠ name alone, could‍ make all the⁠‍‍ knights of the⁠ empire kneel. With​‍ such an opportunity,‍⁠​ it was only‌​ natural that they‌ would want to‍⁠​ give it to​⁠‌ themselves, their relatives,​ or their vassals.⁠‌‍

“Very‍‍ well, then let⁠⁠ us do it‌ this way. Let‍​⁠ the knights compete⁠ for the title⁠​ of Swordmaster. The‌ victor will offer⁠‌‍ the sword forged‌‌ from fae metal​​ at the grave‍​ of the previous‍ Swordmaster, Sir Eisen,‍​‌ and thus announce‍‍ the name of‌ the new Swordmaster.”​‌

“A​ fencing duel? It’s‍‍ not a bad​⁠ idea, but I doubt Asagrim can​​​ represent the entire‌ empire.”

No‍ matter how sacred‌‌ Asagrim was in‌​⁠ the north, it‌​⁠ did not have⁠​ the authority to⁠‌ represent the whole⁠‌‌ empire.

Even‍‌ if there were⁠ a victor, he‌‌‌ would be nothing‌ more than the​⁠ champion of a local tournament, insufficient⁠ to prove his⁠⁠ right to the⁠‍⁠ title of Swordmaster.⁠​

Lucian​‌ knew that well,‍ but he shrugged​⁠​ as if it‍⁠⁠ did not matter.⁠‌

“It⁠⁠‌ doesn’t matter whether​ a mountain is⁠‌ split in some⁠ rural corner or​‍ in the very‌​ center of the​‍​ capital. A swordsman’s​‌​ skill does not⁠‍ change. Do you⁠⁠‍ believe that a swordsman who splits⁠​⁠ a mountain in‌​‍ the countryside is‍⁠ inferior to one⁠ who only splits‌‌ a stone in‍ the capital?”

“That’s⁠‌​ not it, but‍​‍ the fame and⁠⁠ the number of‍⁠​ challengers are not‍‌​ the same. There‌ will surely be‍‌ those who scoff,‌⁠‌ saying they would‍‍ have won.”

“Either​‍⁠ way, the position⁠⁠ of Swordmaster is‌‍ one that receives‍⁠​ challenges without end.‍ If one loses‌ to another, they⁠⁠​ simply hand over‍ the title and‍‍ step down. What⁠‌ kind of Swordmaster‍⁠ would someone be‍​‍ if they were​​‌ never challenged and‍​​ comfortably kept the‌ title for life?”​

In‍ fact, even Eisen,​‌‍ the previous Swordmaster,⁠‌‌ had received constant‍​ challenges until his‍‌ final years.

The⁠​ challengers only disappeared‌‍‍ completely ten years‌ ago, and even​ then it was‍‌​ more out of​‌⁠ respect for the​ aged Eisen than​ anything else.

Now‌‍ that Eisen had⁠‍ passed away, no‍​⁠ matter who became‌ Swordmaster, challengers would‍​ swarm in like‌‌ moths to a flame.

“That⁠‍‍ you do not​‌ recognize Felicia as⁠ Swordmaster, or that‌​‍ you wish to​ challenge that position,​‍‍ does not concern​ me. But remember‌‍ one thing.”

With‌​ a cold smile,‍ Lucian addressed the‍​ heads of the​‍ houses.

“Even⁠‍‍ if someone manages‍⁠ to be called​​‌ Swordmaster after a thousand hardships, if​ they cannot maintain‌‍​ the title and⁠​‌ lose it right⁠ away, they will​ go down in​‍‌ history as a fool who did​‍ not know their​ place.”

Faced‌​‌ with those blunt‍ words, the heads‍ of the houses‌‌ could not respond.‌⁠

Lucian⁠ showed a mocking​ smile at the⁠‌ reaction he had​⁠​ already anticipated. The⁠ very same people​‍​ who, while Eisen‌⁠ was still alive,‌‌‍ had not even​⁠‍ dared to open⁠⁠ their mouths were‌‌‌ now making a fuss, saying they‍ could not accept‍⁠‌ it.

‘Of​⁠ course. If you⁠‍‌ know the weight⁠​⁠ of the name‍‌‌ Swordmaster, it’s only‌ natural that you‍‌ wouldn’t want to‌ hand it over​ to someone else.’‍

Although‍‍ it did not​ entail real power,‌⁠‍ it was a title that, by‌ its name alone,‍‌‍ was enough to‍‍⁠ make all the‍‍ knights of the⁠‍​ Empire kneel.

Now‍⁠​ that an opportunity⁠ had presented itself,​ it was only‍‍⁠ natural that they‍ wanted to give‍ themselves, a relative,​ or a vassal‌⁠ the chance to⁠ challenge for the​⁠ title of Swordmaster.‍

Lucian’s‍⁠ words struck right​ at the mark,‍‍​ and the heads​‍‍ of the families​ had no choice⁠​ but to close​‍⁠ their mouths.

***⁠

Lucian‌ immediately prepared the‌ fencing duel, right‍ after the blacksmith⁠ competition.

Or,‌​ to be precise,⁠​‍ he pretended to⁠ prepare it.

In​ reality, he had​‍‌ already had everything⁠‍ ready for quite⁠‌ some time, because⁠ he had anticipated‌​‌ that something like‌⁠ this would happen.‍

‘Perfect.​ Aside from Sir​​⁠ Eisen’s recognition, Felicia⁠‍​ had no foundation‍ to proclaim herself‌‌‍ Swordmaster. With this‌‌‍ tournament, she will​ at least obtain‌​‌ a minimal justification.’⁠‍

No‍ matter how minimal,⁠‌⁠ it was always​ better to appear‌ to have received⁠‍ some recognition than⁠‌‌ to proclaim herself‍⁠ Swordmaster from the⁠ outset. At least‍‌ this way, the‍ nobodies who did​​​ not even have⁠‌ the right to‍ aspire to the‍‍ title would not⁠ be able to​ mock her.

‘Well,‌ even if they​​‌ mock her a little, once they‍‍ learn Felicia’s true⁠‌ strength, they will⁠ all end up​ shutting their mouths.’‍

After​⁠‍ confirming that the⁠⁠⁠ controversy surrounding the⁠‍ title of Swordmaster‍⁠ had subsided, Lucian​​‌ moved on to​⁠ the competition that‍​⁠ had already been​⁠⁠ scheduled.

They‍‍ could not build‌⁠ forges for all​‌​ the blacksmiths at​ once, so they⁠ first set up⁠‌‌ five provisional forges.​‍

If‌ someone failed to‌⁠ work the fae⁠ metal within the‍ allotted time, the‍⁠ turn would pass‍ to the next‌​‌ aspirant.

The​ news that they⁠‌ would be able⁠​ to see with‍⁠ their own eyes⁠​ the legendary forging​ of fae metal‍ drew a crowd​ even before the​⁠ competition began.

Among⁠⁠​ them were many​​‌ outsiders who had‍​ recently entered as⁠⁠ blacksmith apprentices.

“So​ if someone tries⁠‌ to forge it‌ and fails, the⁠‍ turn goes to‌‌ the next person?‍‌ Then the next⁠​⁠ one doesn’t have‍‌‍ an advantage?”

“That’s​‌‌ what I’m saying.‌ If the one​ before manages to‍‌ even melt it⁠‍⁠ a bit or‍‌⁠ change its shape,‌​ it’s enough to‍ copy it.”

“Tsk,‍ tsk, such ignorance.‌‌‍ Do you think‌​‌ blacksmithing can be‍⁠‌ solved by imitation?⁠‌‍ And you want‌‍‌ to call yourselves‍‍ blacksmiths without knowing‍‌ even the basics‍ of forging?”

At⁠ the murmurs of‌​ the outsider apprentices,⁠ a master blacksmith‍ clicked his tongue‍‍⁠ and scolded them.‌‍‍

Hearing‍‌⁠ their master’s rebuke,‍‍ the burly apprentices‍ scratched the backs⁠‌ of their necks​​‌ with awkward expressions.‌​​

“Still,‌⁠​ you can learn​​⁠ something, right? We’re‌‍‌ apprentices, but they’re⁠⁠ masters.”

“As​‍ a reference, perhaps.‍‌ But what about⁠‌​ after copying someone⁠ else’s method?”

“After⁠ that? …Ah!”

At‌ the master’s remark,‌ the apprentice realized​‍ his mistake. If‍​⁠ one tried to‍​‍ forge based on‌ one’s own theory‍ from the beginning,​ there was a possibility of success.⁠

Even‍​⁠ if it were⁠ one in a billion, the moment‍ the theory fit,​‍ everything could go‌ right.

But⁠ if one only‌ imitated another’s forging,‌​⁠ all they would⁠ achieve was advancing‌ one step beyond‍‍⁠ the point where⁠⁠​ the previous person​​ had failed.

By⁠ copying something on⁠‍ the fly, there⁠‌‍ was no way​⁠ to think about​ what came next.​​

“Besides,​⁠ fae metal is‌⁠⁠ a metal that‌‍ no blacksmith has​⁠ ever worked before.‌‌ Even if you‌‍⁠ copied someone else‌⁠‍ and managed to​‌‍ forge it, do‌ you think a decent sword would⁠‍​ come out? At⁠​ best, you’d get‍​​ an iron bar.”​‌‍

“I-I‌ understand.”

“Well,‌‍ if someone could​⁠‍ see a perfect​ forging from start⁠ to finish, the⁠ difficulty would drop​‍‍ a bit but​ there is no⁠⁠‌ such blacksmith.”

At​‌‍ their master’s words,​‍ laden with experience,‌‍‍ the apprentices nodded⁠ vigorously.

Although​‌ the master spoke⁠​ as if it‍⁠​ were nothing special,​‌ each of those⁠⁠‍ offhand remarks contained⁠ surprisingly valuable lessons.‍‌

While​⁠ the spectators continued​ talking, the first‍⁠ aspirants, already prepared,​⁠ headed toward the‍‌‌ forges.

Among⁠‍‍ them was Malcolm,​ who had recently‌ been appointed Master‍ of the Furnace.‍‍‌

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