Listen Well. In the Future… (2)
Ghislain spoke with a bitter tone as he looked at Astion, who seemed utterly dazed.
'It's unfortunate, but that's reality. So don't cling too much to fame. Ha, it's all so pointless.'
— Y-You're lying, right?
'I don't lie.'
Ghislain might have been a bit reckless or unpredictable at times, but he had never lied. Even so, Astion didn't want to believe it.
— I was supposed to reach the 9th Circle! I was supposed to save the world with my friends! Why would someone like that live in hiding?
'Who knows… I don't know the reason myself. But the fact remains—you lived in hiding.'
Perhaps it was because of the infamy he was accumulating now. But there was no need to share a hypothesis that put him at a disadvantage. There could be another reason.
Astion asked in a trembling voice,
— T-Then, does that mean I live alone? Do I end up not dating, just like you?
Ghislain gave him a look of pity but spoke firmly.
'You won't.'
— ...…
'And your successor in the Magic Tower… isn't dating either. I don't know what will happen later, but as of now, that's the case.'
— ...…
Dark chimed in from the side.
— That's right! Your successor in the Magic Tower is a bit of an idiot!
— An idiot?
— Yeah! Just like you!
From Dark's narrow-minded perspective, Jerome's kind-hearted nature seemed nothing but foolishness. Astion, having no knowledge of Jerome, took Dark's words at face value.
Determined, he spoke as if making a vow.
— D-Don't be ridiculous. I won't take in a dumb disciple for my Magic Tower. I'll make sure only intelligent students with strong character are accepted.
— But a dumb one will come!
— S-Shut up! I won't accept someone like that!
— That's not up to you! It's the future! What can you even do about it?
— Shut uuuuup!
Consumed by the shock of his future, Astion forgot about the infamy he was currently accumulating. He simply bickered with Dark.
And so, after exhausting all his energy, Astion ended up falling asleep, gaining nothing in return.
With Astion easily subdued, Ghislain continued the hellish training without pause.
There was no need to torment the captured mages. After all, they weren't truly loyal subordinates.
Fearing they might be forced into training as well, they obediently followed orders. Since the territory originally had almost no mages, just keeping them in check was enough.
The mercenaries, who had been idling, laughed as they watched the brutal training. To them, it was all someone else's problem.
"Damn, they got caught in the worst way possible."
"Our vice-captain sure has a nasty temper."
"Well, isn't this how you bond with comrades?"
The former bandit mercenaries especially sympathized with the grumbling soldiers. After all, they had been beaten senseless by Ghislain before being 'reformed.'
Ghislain turned to the chuckling mercenaries.
"Now, you lot will join the training too."
"...… W-Why?"
"You're too weak. Take this opportunity to train your mental fortitude through hard work."
"...…"
It sounded horrifying. Watching the hellish training had been amusing, but participating was another matter entirely.
Osval spoke in a trembling voice.
"Mental fortitude… isn't that something you're born with? I may be a man, but my mind is fragile… If I'm stressed, I might just die."
"Training will fix that."
Thus, the mercenaries were dragged into the hellish training. No one was exempt.
"Aaaaah! Why do I have to go through this?!"
"We're mercenaries! We just take the money and fight, isn't that enough?!"
"The great Osval… is going to die!"
In this place, backgrounds and social status no longer mattered. Only warriors brimming with tenacity remained.
Once Ghislain felt it was time, he gathered everyone and made an announcement.
"Starting today, I'm adding a new training regimen!"
The knights, soldiers, and mercenaries all gritted their teeth, glaring at Ghislain. If looks could kill, he would have died several times over already.
Their resentment was palpable, but Ghislain found it satisfying.
After all, the more their hatred focused on him, the stronger their camaraderie became.
Simply driving them to their limits wasn't enough. Now, he needed to foster teamwork and deepen their bonds.
"From today, I'll assign you into teams. Your task is to attack me! This will be live combat training!"
Pent-up frustration wasn't good. They needed an outlet.
At first, everyone frowned. Attacking Ghislain would be pointless; they wouldn't even land a hit.
Ghislain understood their hesitation, so he added a condition.
"I will suppress my mana and won't use magic. Attack me with everything you've got. Ah, and knights, you're also forbidden from using mana."
Their eyes gleamed with anticipation. If Ghislain didn't use mana, they had a chance.
From that day onward, groups of 100 people engaged in full-scale battles against Ghislain.
Fueled by the brutal training, they charged at him with burning resolve.
"Take him down!"
"We must have our revenge!"
"The great O… Osval! Attack!"
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Ghislain swung a club made of straw, knocking them down one by one.
Even without mana, his techniques were unparalleled. He moved like the wind, seamlessly flowing with the world's will.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
"Gaaah! Damn you, Astion!"
"Astion! You monster!"
"Astion, you bastard!"
Every time they were struck, they cursed Astion's name. But Ghislain didn't feel like he was being insulted.
He was genuinely invested in this training.
'The results are incredible.'
Regardless of where they came from, they put their heads together at night, devising strategies to take him down.
Focusing on a common goal brought them closer.
Even though they still got beaten in the end, swinging their clubs and running around helped relieve their stress.
Once they were exhausted, Andrew and Leo stepped in to provide food and drink, ensuring proper rest. The division of roles was flawless.
Although he could end the training soon, Ghislain didn't. There was still time before the next phase.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
"Gaaah! Astion, you XXX!"
"Astion! I swear I'll kill you!"
"You XXXX! Astion XXXXX!"
Every time they had real combat training with Ghislain, everyone would spit out similar curses. But Ghislain would laugh heartily and accept everyone's anger.
That was...his way of being considerate, since he was used to being a villain.
"Yes! I am 'Astion'! Come at me!"
With each round of training, Astion's infamy only grew.
***
As Andrew and Rio had predicted, Count Swipel and his vassals struggled to find a way to eliminate the Yulian Mercenary Corps.
"How about poisoning them?"
"That would be difficult. Warriors of that caliber won't succumb easily. Even if they are poisoned, they can suppress the effects and escape."
"If we poison that gang first, we can track them down and capture them, can't we?"
"Hiding would be easy for them. If they recover before we catch them, they'll surely come back for revenge. Besides, there's no way Baron Nordhill and Baron Lacus wouldn't check for poison in their food."
Even if their territories were small, both men were still lords of their respective territories. Their attendants wouldn't neglect inspecting their meals for poison.
"Then what about hiding knights in advance and ambushing them? We could invite only the mercenary leaders to a banquet and take them out there."
"That… would also be difficult."
"Why? Even with all our knights, would it still be hard to win?"
Of course it would be. Ambush or not, they were up against superhuman-level fighters. How could mere knights hope to capture them?
The vassals chose to phrase it as delicately as possible.
"Even without considering the mage, the mercenary leaders are said to be at least high to top-tier in skill. Even if we fight to the end, we cannot guarantee victory."
"Hmm…"
"Furthermore… They are mercenaries. They won't fight to the death. The moment they sense an ambush, they'll flee. In fact, they'll probably find it suspicious and refuse if we invite only their leaders to a banquet."
"Ugh…"
"If we do invite them, we'll have to invite all of them, and there's no way they won't bring their forces. The moment things get chaotic, their waiting troops will move in."
"Ugh…"
"If we want to succeed before their troops react, we must subdue them instantly… but our knights are not capable of that yet."
At those words, the knights standing nearby showed clear displeasure.
Saying that a mere handful of mercenary leaders outclassed their entire order was nothing short of an insult.
Yet none of them openly objected. Because based on what was known, it was true.
Tyrann was said to be as strong as Swipel's own knight commander. And there were several others of similar or even greater strength.
One of them was even evaluated as being at the superhuman level.
So while the knights bristled at the claim, none dared confidently say they could handle the mercenaries.
Frustrated, Count Swipel snapped.
"Then what? What are you saying we should do? Are we just supposed to sit back and hand over money and land? We don't even have the money right now! Do we have to sell off the land we fought so hard to gain?!"
Of course, Count Swipel hadn't struggled for anything.
In truth, he should be grateful that he was now free from Count Crest's threats.
But, as a noble of this era, he thought only of himself.
"Find a way! Find me a damn way!"
His rage only grew. The idea that a high-ranking noble like himself was powerless against a mere mercenary corps was unbearable.
One of the vassals, after cautiously gauging his mood, spoke up.
"There is… a possible way."
"What is it?"
"We ask for help from Marquis Falkenheim."
"What?!"
Count Swipel's jaw dropped in disbelief.
Until now, he had been fighting Count Crest, a vassal of Marquis Falkenheim. As a result, Count Crest was now destroyed.
In theory, he should now fear Falkenheim's retaliation. So how could they possibly ask for his help?
The vassal quickly continued.
"The only reason we weren't part of Marquis Falkenheim's faction was because of Count Crest's greed. But with Count Crest gone, nothing is stopping us anymore."
"Oh…"
The truth was that Count Swipel simply hadn't wanted to serve under anyone.
But after facing Count Crest's threats, he had considered joining a faction.
It was only because Count Crest had interfered—wanting to seize Swipel's land—that he had failed.
"Marquis Falkenheim must retaliate since one of his vassals was taken down. We just have to give him a justification—by blaming everything on the Yulian Mercenary Corps and Baron Nordhill."
"Hmm, go on."
"It is true that the mercenary leader came and threatened us. We just need to provide Marquis Falkenheim with a pretext to act. In return, we offer him some of the lands we acquired and pledge our loyalty."
"Hmm…"
"Marquis Falkenheim has many powerful knights. With their support, we can eliminate the mercenary leaders… and then, taking Nordhill and Lacus will be easy with our forces alone."
Count Swipel nodded.
Nordhill aside, Lacus' gold mine was an especially tempting prize.
If he offered half of Count Crest's former territory and promised higher taxes, there was no way Marquis Falkenheim would refuse.
It stung to part with land he had 'worked so hard' to obtain.
But in return, he would rid himself of the Yulian Mercenary Corps and take Lacus' gold mine with ease.
On top of that, he would no longer have to worry about retaliation from Marquis Falkenheim.
For Count Swipel, this was the ideal solution.
He quickly made his decision.
"Good! Send envoys to Marquis Falkenheim and deliver our message—I, Count Swipel, pledge my loyalty to him!"
Count Swipel grinned wickedly.
In these chaotic times, words like "loyalty" meant nothing.
Everyone understood that they were merely using each other as long as it was convenient.
Marquis Falkenheim knew this too.
But for now, he would pretend to believe it. Because it was beneficial to him as well.
Count Swipel hurriedly prepared lavish gifts and sent them to Marquis Falkenheim.
Among those gifts, carefully tucked away, was a letter from Count Swipel—detailing his utterly despicable proposal.
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