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A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles Chapter 77

Chapter 77

‘Good.’⁠

Lucian​ restrained the corner‍‌ of his lips,‌ which threatened to‍ rise.

Of‌​ course, he had⁠ no intention of⁠⁠ giving up Valdeck‌ and remaining anchored‍⁠ in the north,​​⁠ but that would⁠ only be in​‍‌ the case where⁠‌ he had to‌ abandon one of‌‍‌ the two options.​

If‌ he could keep⁠ both, he would‌‍⁠ do so without‌‍ hesitation.

‘Of⁠​‍ course, the emperor​‍‍ would never tolerate⁠ it. If, in⁠‌ addition to securing⁠⁠ Valdeck, I also​‌ aspired to the⁠​ northern throne, I’d‍ lose my head.’​​‌

It​​‌ was true that‌‌⁠ the emperor felt‌⁠ sympathy for Lucian,‌⁠​ but that sympathy⁠​ only lasted as⁠‌‍ long as Lucian‌⁠ faithfully fulfilled his‍ role as a “subordinate.”

If⁠‍‌ he were to​‌ grow into a force capable of​⁠​ threatening the imperial‍⁠​ family, he would⁠‌ be regarded as​⁠‍ a potential rebel‌​ without the slightest‌ consideration. That was‍‍⁠ why, for now,​‌ it was enough⁠ to plant a small seed.

‘So​‍⁠ that when the‍​ era of chaos‌ arrives, I can​‍⁠ claim my legitimate​‌ rights. To place‍​​ my people now,​ so that later‍ they’ll willingly join​⁠ my ranks.’

After‍ organizing his thoughts,‌ Lucian smiled and‍‌ waved his hand.‌‍‍

“My,‍​‍ this is getting‍⁠ far too serious.⁠‌‍ I was only​ asking lightly. How​⁠⁠ could I dare‍⁠ to do anything‌‍​ against the Empire‌⁠ when I live​‍‌ under the grace‌ of His Majesty‌‌‍ the Emperor?”

“…”⁠⁠‍

Despite‍ the evasive reply,‍‍ Harald’s eyes continued‍ to shine intensely,‍​‍ as if trying​ to discern whether⁠‌ Lucian was being⁠⁠ sincere.

Seeing⁠⁠‍ that attitude, Lucian‌‌‍ shrugged and added.‍‍‍

“Well,​⁠⁠ even so, no‍​ one knows how​ human affairs will‍‍ end. Just as⁠⁠​ you said, Baron⁠‍ Harald, the Empire⁠⁠​ is faltering. Not‌ long ago, they⁠ returned without any​⁠⁠ real results after‍‌ suppressing the Krephelt‍​​ rebellion, losing quite⁠‍ a bit of⁠‌ prestige in the⁠ process.”

“What…?”​‍

“His⁠‍ Majesty is containing​‌ the situation by‌‍ even revealing the⁠​‍ hidden power of‌ the imperial family,​ but no one⁠ knows how long‍‍ he’ll be able​ to sustain it.​​‍ When a beast⁠ shows weakness, it’s⁠ attacked from all​⁠ sides. From here‌‌‍ on out, the‌​‍ situation will only​⁠ grow harsher.”

“Mmm…”⁠‍​

Harald‌‌ lowered his gaze,‍‍⁠ his face slightly⁠​ pale. As expected,⁠‍ due to the‌ north’s isolation and‌ the imperial family’s‌​‍ cover-up, he didn’t​ seem to know⁠​​ the deeper details.‍​‍

Lucian,‍⁠‍ who had just‌‌​ casually dropped such⁠‌ grave matters, added‍‍ a few more‌ words in passing.​

“If‌​ arrogant lords begin‍ to run rampant‌ and the imperial‍ family loses the⁠​‍ strength to restrain​⁠ them, that would⁠ be a tragedy.​ If that truly​ happens, the north‌‌‍ will also have‌⁠​ to seek its​‍ own way to​⁠ survive. For example,‍ by uniting once⁠ more around the⁠‌ old royal family​‌‍ and rising again.”⁠

“…!”​

“There’s‌‌ no proof. Nor‌‍ can I guarantee⁠ anything. It’s nothing​​ more than a dreamlike story that‍ may never come​‌‍ true. Could you​‌ believe in it​​ someday and wait?”‍‌

Waiting⁠ wears people down.⁠⁠‌ Even if one​‌‍ makes a momentous​‌‌ decision, if time‌ passes meaninglessly, the‌​ passion of that‍⁠ moment eventually fades​​ away.

Faced​‍ with Lucian’s question⁠⁠​ of whether he⁠​‍ could endure such‍​‍ empty waiting, Harald‌​‌ smiled.

“I’ve​ long since grown⁠⁠ used to waiting‌ without gaining anything.⁠​‌ After all, I don’t have much‌‍ life left. I intend to wait​​ until I close‍ my eyes.”

That​‍ meant that, at‍ least while he‌‌‍ was still alive,‍‍ he had no⁠‌‍ intention of betraying‍‌⁠ Lucian.

Hearing‍ the answer he⁠‌​ had been hoping‍‍⁠ for, Lucian’s expression​⁠ also grew a little more serious.​

“And‌ what do you‍ plan to do‍ regarding your succession?⁠ Aside from that​‌⁠ traitor, it doesn’t​⁠ seem like there⁠ are any other⁠⁠ sons here.”

“I​ sent my second‍​ son to a friend. The investiture‌​ ceremony ended not‍ long ago, but⁠​​ he still hasn’t‌​ sworn loyalty, so‍ I’ll have to​ bring him back.”‌

“Do‌​ you think he’ll⁠ follow me?”

“He’s‍‌‍ a lot like⁠​ me and has‌ a rather strong‌ rebellious streak. He​ always talked about‍ the greatness of​​​ the north and⁠ often mentioned the​‍⁠ era of the⁠ old kingdom. Lately,⁠ he’s also complained‌⁠ frequently that the‌​⁠ Empire’s interference is‌ excessive.”

“…Even‌‍‌ if his temperament​‍⁠ is different, there‍ may be points​‌ where we fit‍ together better than​⁠‌ it seems.”

At‍⁠​ the same time,​ Lucian understood why‌ that “second son”​‌ wasn’t here. If‌ he showed such​⁠⁠ a rebellious nature​ so openly, it⁠‌ would be easy‍‍​ for the Empire‍‌ to mark him⁠⁠ as a traitor.⁠‍⁠

He​⁠‌ had probably been​‍ sent away to‍​‌ prevent Torik or​⁠ other rivals from‌ taking advantage of​​ it.

“I‌⁠​ think so too.​‌‌ But as I said before, human​‍ affairs are unpredictable.⁠​⁠ He might fit⁠ better with you⁠⁠​ than with me,​⁠ or he might‍‍‌ not fit at​‍ all.”

In⁠‍ other words, if⁠​ possible, he wanted​‌ the grand undertaking‌ to begin while‍⁠⁠ he was still​‌‌ alive.

Once‌ it began, he‍⁠‌ would follow it​​⁠ without hesitation, without⁠‍‌ weighing pros and​‌‌ cons. Seeing Harald‌‌‍ maintain a resolute⁠‍ attitude while letting​ words heavy with‍ longing slip out,‌‍ Lucian smiled wryly.‌⁠‌

“That‌‌ sounds rather frightening.‍⁠⁠ I hope Baron‌‍ Harald enjoys good‍ health and lives⁠ many long years.”​

“Or‍ that you hurry‍‍ a bit more.”​‍‌

“Well,​​‌ in any case,⁠⁠ taking care of‍ one’s health is‌‌ never a bad‌ idea.”

Lucian‌ took a vial​​ of nectar from⁠⁠‍ his pocket and​​‍ set it on‌⁠‍ the table. Seeing⁠‌​ the bluish glow,‌ unfamiliar to him,‍ Harald blinked.

“And⁠‌ what is this?”​

“A​ medicine that’s beneficial⁠‍​ to the body.⁠‍‍ Try it.”

“Well…‌​​ if you’re giving⁠​ it to me,⁠​ I’ll take it.”⁠​

With‍ a somewhat unconvinced​⁠ expression, Harald opened‍ the vial. It‌‍ was an unexpected‌ bribe, but also​⁠ a clear show​ of goodwill, so‌⁠⁠ he decided to‍‌ accept it.

In‌‌​ a single gulp,​⁠⁠ he brought the⁠ nectar to his‍‍‌ mouth and sat‌ back down across​ from Lucian.

“I’ve​⁠‌ already taken the​‍‌ medicine. But no‍⁠​ matter how good⁠ it is, time—”‍⁠

Booom!⁠

Harald‍⁠ couldn’t finish his⁠​ sentence and froze.‍⁠ He felt a torrent of mana,​ like an erupting‍​​ volcano, spreading from​ within throughout his‍‌ entire body.

An​ inconceivable medicinal effect‌‍‌ wrapped around him‌ like a storm,⁠‌‌ yet without causing⁠​ the slightest pain.⁠

Only‌ a refreshing sensation,‌ as if every‍‍ corner of his​ body were being⁠‍‌ washed clean.

“What…​ ugh…?”

He‌‌ muttered unconsciously, but‍⁠ closed his mouth‍‌⁠ again as he‍ felt the mana‌ overflowing.

He‌⁠​ had the strange‍‍ feeling that if⁠‍⁠ he said something‌​ wrong, the mana‍ might explode. After‌⁠ a moment, once‌‍ he confirmed the‍ mana saturating his‍‌ entire body, he‌‌ was finally able‌‍ to speak again.‌

“This…‌⁠ what the hell‌​ is this?”

“A⁠⁠ spiritual medicine.”

“Spiritual‍‌‌ medicine? Don’t be⁠‍‍ ridiculous! This is​‍‍ on an entirely⁠ different level!”

“Yes.​⁠ It’s an invention⁠‌ capable of turning‌​ the world upside⁠ down. If you⁠ went around telling‌​ everyone about it,⁠‌ I’d be finished.”⁠‌

“…!”​

Harald’s​‌⁠ eyes trembled violently.⁠ Just as Lucian‍ said, this wasn’t​ a simple gift.‍‌​

It​⁠‍ was a dangerous⁠ treasure, capable of​⁠ altering the balance​​ of power across⁠​ the continent. By⁠ handing it over,‍​ Lucian was showing‌​ absolute trust.

‘I‌‌⁠ see.’

Finally‌ at ease, a deep smile formed‍​​ on Harald’s lips.‍‍​

The‍​​ mere fact that‌⁠ Lucian revealed such‌​ a treasure to‌‍‌ him was practically⁠‌ a promise that,‌‍⁠ one day without‍ fail, he would‍‌​ rise.

“I’ll‍‌‌ have to live​​​ many long years.”​

Until​ I can see‍⁠ that day with⁠​‌ my own eyes.‍‍‍

Just‌​ as Lucian, satisfied⁠‌ after gaining Harald’s‍ complete trust, nodded​ silently, a voice‍⁠ came from outside.⁠⁠⁠

“Baron⁠ Harald, my lord.⁠ I have something‌​ to report.”

It⁠ was Raymond’s voice.⁠​ Before Lucian could‌⁠ ask what was‍‍ going on, Raymond‍‌ got straight to​ the point.

“Hugo‍​​ is fighting right​‍ now against a knight who came​‍ from the house​⁠​ of Count Calix.‍‌‍ You’d better go‍​⁠ see it.”

***‍‌

Sword‌‌ techniques aren’t something‌‍‌ exclusive to knights.‍

Sometimes,‍‌ by the mercy⁠‌ of a knight;‍ other times, by​‍‌ stealing teachings through‍⁠⁠ eavesdropping, fragments of‌​ them end up​‍ leaking into the‍ world.

If⁠⁠ someone comes from⁠‌​ a mercenary background​ and has a bit of fame,​‌ it’s normal for‌ them to possess⁠⁠‍ at least a decent sword technique.‍‌

But‌‍ no matter how‍‌ many techniques they⁠ have, they can‍⁠ never defeat a knight who has‌⁠‍ been properly trained.⁠

The‌ gap in quality‍ between a commoner​​‍ who learned through⁠ crude means and‍​​ a knight surrounded‌‍​ by top-level masters‌‍‌ is immense.

‘That’s⁠‍‌ what I always‌‌ heard…!’

Clang!⁠

‘What‍ the hell is⁠ this guy using‍​ to block all‍ my attacks?!’

Palmir⁠​ retreated, swallowing down‌ a scream that​​ threatened to burst‌ out. The moment‌ his sword was⁠‌​ repelled, a sharp​ pain ran through‌⁠ his hand, as‌ if his grip‍ was being torn‌⁠‌ apart.

He‌ couldn’t see it⁠ through his gauntlet,⁠‍‍ but it was​​ obvious his palm‌⁠ had been injured.‍⁠‍ As he clumsily⁠ moved his fingers‍ in pain, a mocking voice came‍​⁠ from the front.⁠​

“Your⁠⁠ attacks are getting‍ weaker. Getting tired?”⁠‍​

“Shut‍⁠ up!”

Palmir‌​ clenched his teeth​‌⁠ and glared at​‍ Hugo, but he‌​ didn’t dare rush⁠ in again.

If⁠‌ he kept attacking,‌⁠​ his hand might‌‍ become completely unusable.‌​‌ In the worst-case‌‍ scenario, he’d have⁠‌ to retire as‍‌​ a knight.

‘But​​ I can’t back‍ down now either…!’​

A knight who’d been⁠‍‌ properly trained admitting‍​ defeat to a mere squad captain?⁠ And in the‍‌ north, no less?‌

It​​‍ wouldn’t just be‍‍​ a retreat; he’d⁠‌ have to live​‍ the rest of‌ his life in‌⁠​ hiding, unable to⁠⁠‌ show his face‍‌​ again.

While‌ Palmir hesitated, unsure⁠⁠‌ what to do,​ a familiar voice‌‌ rang out.

“Quite‍‍​ the spectacle. A knight retreating in‍‌‌ fear from a squad captain.”

Recognizing‍‍ the voice, Palmir‍ reacted immediately. As⁠‌ he turned his‌⁠‌ head, just as‌ he expected, Lucian⁠ was watching them.‍‌‌

Seizing‌ the opportunity, Palmir‍ shouted at the‍‍​ top of his⁠⁠ lungs.

“Young⁠‍ Lord Lucian! How‌‌‍ can you allow‍⁠ such disrespect?!”

“….”⁠​‌

“I​​ came to see​‌‍ you, but your​‌ subordinate didn’t even‍‍ announce my visit​​⁠ and attacked me​‌ immediately! Is this‍ the will of‍ Young Lord Lucian,⁠ the will of‌⁠​ Valdeck?!”

At​ Palmir’s shout, the​‍‍ spectators began to⁠⁠ murmur. Lucian calmly‍⁠ looked around, then⁠⁠ crossed his arms.⁠⁠

Interpreting‍‍ that gesture as‍​ hesitation, Palmir smirked‍‌ slightly.

“Explain‍⁠ yourself! Is this⁠⁠ your will? Or​‌ was it an⁠ arbitrary act by⁠‌ a mere soldier?!”‍‍

“….”​

“If‍​ it was your‌ will, then you‌ must take responsibility!​‌ And if it⁠ was an independent⁠⁠‍ action by a soldier, then he‍​‍ must be punished⁠ accordingly!”

Despite​ his triumphant tone,‌ Lucian didn’t so‍‌‍ much as twitch​ an eyebrow. He‍‌ remained silent, watching⁠ Palmir with a calm, indifferent gaze.⁠⁠

As⁠‍‍ the silence dragged​​ on, Palmir was‍⁠ about to shout‍‌​ again—

“What⁠‍‌ are you doing?⁠⁠‍ Weren’t you supposed⁠‌‍ to be fighting?”⁠

“…What?”⁠​

“Weren’t‌‍‍ you in the⁠‍ middle of a fight with my‍ squad captain? Shouting​​‌ is all well⁠​ and good, but​ I don’t understand‌ why you stopped.‌​‌ Hugo.”

“Yes,‍​⁠ my lord.”

“If‍ the opponent gets​ distracted mid-fight, you‍​‌ should cut them‍ down without hesitation.‌ Why are you‍‌ letting him keep⁠⁠ talking? Draw your⁠⁠ sword!”

“…?!”‍

Horrified,‌⁠​ Palmir immediately looked‍ at Hugo. By‍‌ then, Hugo had​ already taken a firm stance and‌ was slowly advancing⁠‍‍ toward him.

If​⁠ he didn’t defend​⁠​ properly, he’d be​ cut down without‍ mercy.

“Lu-Lucian!⁠ What is the‌⁠‍ meaning of this?!”⁠⁠

“Shut​ up and fight.⁠⁠ I don’t care‍ who wins or​⁠‌ loses; the result‌⁠‍ must be decided.⁠‌‌ I won’t allow​‍‍ anyone to run⁠‍‍ away from a duel.”

“This‍⁠⁠ isn’t a duel!⁠‌ It’s one-sided—agh!”

Clang!⁠

Palmir‌ barely managed to​‍ block Hugo’s attack‍ and staggered backward.‍​

The​ pain in his‌‌​ palm was unbearable,‍‍ as if the‌​‌ wound had worsened.⁠

Suppressing‌⁠‌ a groan, he⁠⁠⁠ was about to​ speak again when⁠ a cold voice‍​‌ cut him off.‍

“If​‍​ you abandon the⁠‌ duel, I’ll kill⁠ you.”

“…!”⁠‌

“Tricks​ won’t work here.‌⁠⁠ Don’t dream of‍‍​ escaping the result.⁠⁠‍ You either carry‌⁠‌ your defeat with‍‍​ you, or you‍ get buried here.‌‌ Choose.”

At‌​‍ that chilling declaration,‌ Palmir felt his‍‌‍ blood run cold.​⁠

He‍⁠‌ had thought he⁠‍‌ found an escape,‍ but it had‍‌ all been an​​⁠ illusion. His opponent‍‍ had no intention⁠ of letting him‌ go until he​ chose between an‍‌ honorable death—or a real one.

A wave of regret‌​‍ spun through his⁠⁠‍ mind.

‘If⁠ only I’d put‍‌⁠ my sword away‍ with some excuse…‌‌⁠ if I’d pretended‌‍ my illness had⁠ worsened and collapsed…’​

Among⁠ these thoughts, Palmir‌‍​ came to a devastating realization—none of‌‌ this would’ve happened‌‌​ if he hadn’t‌ tried to place‍ himself above Lucian⁠‍ from the start.​‌

Unfortunately,​ that understanding came​​‍ far too late.​⁠

Clang!​‌​

“Aaagh!”​

His​‌‌ sword was knocked‌ into the air⁠​ with the next​ clash. At the⁠⁠ same time, a searing pain tore‍⁠⁠ through his hand,⁠ and blood began‌​​ to seep from​‌​ his gauntlet.

It​‍ wasn’t an attack‍ from a blind‍ spot or a clever disarming technique—he​⁠ had simply lost⁠ in a head-on‌ contest of strength,‍‍‌ unable to even​‌ withstand the force‍​​ of the weapon‌ clash.

“Ah…”⁠‌​

With​​‌ a clatter, Palmir​ didn’t even think​⁠‍ to retrieve his​ fallen sword.

Looking​ around, he saw​‌​ the spectators watching‍​⁠ him with obvious‍‍ contempt.

In​ a scene completely‍‌ opposite to Lucian’s‍‌​ duel, Palmir collapsed⁠‍‍ to his knees,​​ his face etched‍ with despair.

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