Nofil the Prophet.
A legendary hero who truly existed. Chosen by Serion, he was said to have received the power to see the past and future from the god himself.
As the King's advisor, he guided the kingdom to its glorious golden age.
Of course, in modern times, people might scoff at such legends, dismissing them as mere tales. But this was a world within a fantasy novel.
In a realm where demons and Demon Kings existed, why wouldn't there be a hero chosen by the gods?
"Indeed! It all makes sense now!
Your heart condition being cured, your possession of inexplicable knowledge it's all thanks to Serion's blessing!"
Hassent seemed quite pleased. Having only ever seen his expressionless face, witnessing this emotional shift was a first. Perhaps he unexpectedly enjoyed legends.
Maybe things will work out better than I thought...
I paused.
In the blink of an eye, Hassent's face had reverted to its usual impassive state.
What is this, some kind of Chinese face-changing opera? How can his expression change so abruptly?
"Young Master, how far into the future and past can you see?"
I had anticipated this question. If I claimed to know everything, my words would contradict themselves.
"...I only know fragments, and even that is just knowledge. The ability I received from Serion differs from that of the prophet Nofil. It pertains to knowledge from ancient civilizations."
"Indeed. The abilities of the heroes chosen by Serion in legend varied greatly.
If it's not too impolite, may I ask exactly what your ability is, Young Master?"
"Does it matter what my ability is?"
"It does. It will influence how I perceive you."
I pulled out my smartphone.
"...I lied to my mother, telling her it was an ancient artifact, but this is actually the ability I received from Serion."
I demonstrated my ability before Hassent.
I summoned a vast quantity of spices from my inventory. While not as rare or expensive as they were in the real world's medieval era, spices in this world remained valuable and highly prized.
There could be no more astonishing sight than witnessing such an immense quantity of these spices materialize before one's eyes.
"Unbelievable! Young Master, is your ability to create something from nothing?!"
One could certainly see it that way. The items I produced were somewhat different from existing ones arguably even cleaner.
"Yes, that's correct," I brazenly pressed on.
Someone who creates something from nothing? That's exactly the kind of ability that screams "chosen by the gods," isn't it?
"Is there a reason you've been hiding your ability? If you had revealed that you were chosen by Serion... many would have revered you."
"I know how mysterious and extraordinary my ability is. Some might genuinely admire me, while others would envy me. And..."
I never intended to play the role of Serion's chosen hero. The thought hadn't even occurred to me.
Even if I had known such a path existed, I wouldn't have chosen it. My goal wasn't to become a hero.
"My purpose isn't to become a hero or save the world."
Prophet Nofil serves as an example. Rather than using his prophetic powers to become a savior, he chose to become the king's advisor.
Just because someone is chosen by Serion doesn't mean they must save the world.
"Then what is Young Master's purpose?" Count Prucus asked.
I couldn't truthfully say my goal was to become Count Prucus and acquire all the Mana Awakening Potions. It would sound too pathetic.
"The peace and glory of our Count Prucus family," I replied, watching Hassent's reaction. His eyes widened in surprise as he stared at me.
Was he moved?
Impossible.
Hassent's eyes flickered, betraying his agitation.
The old butler, who seemed incapable of emotion, was struggling to conceal his feelings. I mentally replayed my words, searching for any dangerous or shocking statements.
"The peace and glory of Count Prucus...
What a noble aspiration! However, I'm somewhat concerned...
Does Young Master believe the current Count Prucus is not at peace?"
"Steward Hassent, the family is at peace now. The entire continent is at peace. But present peace does not guarantee future peace."
"What crisis? What crisis threatens Count Prucus?!"
Hassent's voice rose. Sensing his intense reaction, I said, "The continental war is approaching, Steward. As someone who experienced the last continental war, you understand its horrors without me needing to elaborate."
"But Young Master, Count Prucus's family won't fall to a mere continental war!"
"Of course, Steward. However, Count Prucus's enemies aren't only external. The internal threats are far more dangerous."
This wasn't a lie. The Prucus family's crisis stemmed not from the continental war, but from internal political conflicts.
"...By internal crisis, do you mean the Duke Helbrit family?"
"Exactly."
I nodded gravely.
It was a complete fabrication.
The Duke Helbrit family, if left alone, would not cause any friction. They maintained a facade of cleanliness and maintained smooth relations with other nobles.
With their formidable power, Duke Helbrit had no reason to antagonize Count Prucus. There had never been any past grudges between the families.
"Ah... just as I suspected! Those damned, treacherous bastards! I knew they were plotting against us!"
"..."
I was shocked. I never imagined Hassent would use such crude language.
"Young Master, do you know what insults the central nobles hurl at us?"
I knew. It was mentioned in the original story.
On the surface, they praised the Count Prucus family as Raphael's guardian sword, but...
"Border dogs. Raphael's guard dogs. Proud mad dogs. They envy and resent our Count Prucus."
"Exactly!"
Hassent's face twisted into a demonic grimace.
"Those insignificant whelps! How dare they insult Count Prucus, forgetting their place! I
f Count Prucus falters even slightly, those vermin will undoubtedly reveal their hidden ambitions!
We must crush their spirit! We must trample them thoroughly, setting an example that will prevent them from ever harboring such delusions again!
They must never dare to crawl back up!"
"..."
A palpable aura of murderous intent radiated from Hassent's body. I had never felt such a dense and razor-sharp killing intent before.
Unconsciously, I took a step back.
Hassent's voice carried a fervor that bordered on madness, surpassing mere loyalty.
"...Ah, my apologies, Young Master. I got carried away."
Hassent lowered his head, all traces of his earlier frenzy vanished.
"Well... well, people get excited sometimes. I understand."
I don't understand at all.
Was he always this kind of character? In the original story, he quietly retired, so I never knew. If he possessed such fervent loyalty, why would he ever retire?
"To be frank, the future of Count Prucus is bleak."
"There will be crisis in the future, yes."
Though Kyle, as the protagonist, will overcome them all with his overwhelming martial prowess.
"The current Lord possesses exceptional martial strength but shows little interest in the Baek Family."
That much was true.
Count Ention Prucus.
An Aura Master and the guardian sword of Raphael.
Currently, he resides in Utrecht Castle, situated on the border with an enemy nation and adjacent to the entrance of the Abyssal Garden's sea of miasma.
Though possessing formidable martial prowess, he has little interest in politics.
This is why Elaine handles the Count's political affairs from their mansion. In fact, Elaine manages nearly all political matters.
"Young Master Gent is exceptional. He possesses both remarkable talent with the sword and a keen interest in politics. However, he's overly fixated on knightly ideals."
Gent is an elitist with a strong sense of superiority.
He's willing to resort to dirty tactics, such as hiring assassins, to achieve his goals, though he doesn't particularly enjoy such methods.
In some ways, his mindset resembles that of Duke Helbrit.
"Young Master Kyle is a genius swordsman, surpassing even Young Master Gent in talent. However, he's too kind."
He had seen through him perfectly.
Why else would Kyle be called a pushover? It was all due to his overly gentle nature.
Moreover, Kyle possessed an absurd sense of justice. He couldn't tolerate injustice and was filled with compassion.
"...Is this your assessment of me now? I don't have the same talent as my brothers."
"Yes, that's correct."
"..."
His blunt admission stung slightly.
"But Young Master, you possess the mysterious power granted by Serion. The world is different now than it was centuries ago.
Military might alone can only achieve so much. With your mystical power and knowledge of the future...
Count Prucus will usher in a new golden age."
"My power is immense, but it is not omnipotent. There are limitations to when I can activate it, and the information I possess about the future is also limited.
The future changes constantly, and I cannot perceive these shifts."
I couldn't rely solely on information from the original work to guide my actions.
Even in the recent Pfrek Bandit Gang incident, an unforeseen variable arose: the betrayal of an informant from the Information Guild.
"My high regard for you, Young Master, stems not only from your mysterious power, but above all, from your character."
"I don't believe my personality is particularly abrasive."
I'm neither particularly kind nor particularly cruel. Just... ordinary.
"Today, I confirmed your true nature. You possess a ruthless disposition."
"...Are you saying I'm ruthless?"
"To my knowledge, you saw a corpse for the first time today. Yet you showed no signs of distress whatsoever.
This implies that you are unmoved by something as commonplace as a corpse."
There was no reason to be disturbed by a corpse whose face and name I didn't even know. Besides, it wasn't my first time seeing a dead body.
"More importantly, Young Master, you recently hired a professional torturer. Wasn't that for today? To torture the bandits?"
"..."
He was right. I had hired the torturer to win Yuria's favor by torturing the bandits.
Torturing them would be a way to help Yuria exact her revenge. I wouldn't proceed if Yuria herself objected, but that was unlikely.
"Yuria Grace... You took that woman under your wing to use her as a blade, didn't you?
As the Young Master who knows the future, she must be no ordinary person."
I sighed.
"...Steward Hassent, everything you've said is correct. Now, please stop talking. What do you want from me?"
Though I was in a foul mood, I was willing to partially accommodate Hassent's demands. I could always kill him later when the opportunity arose.
"Young Master intends to kill me, doesn't he?"
Does he have the ability to read minds? I was startled and waved my hand dismissively.
"...No. No. What are you talking about?"
"Your murderous intent leaked out."
"That's impossible."
"I'm highly sensitive to murderous intent. Because of my past, I instinctively detect even the slightest hint of it.
For the record, I've sensed murderous intent from you a total of eleven times so far."
"..."
What kind of monstrous old man is this? Is he an Aura Master? No, even an Aura Master couldn't do something like that.
"There's only one thing I want from you, Young Master."
"What is it?"
"It would be an honor for the Count Prucus family. If you promise to restore Prucus's glory to this old man...
I will gladly become your Young Master's dirty blade, cutting down those ignorant vermin."
His unexpected words sent a chill down my spine.
Hassent's words were tantamount to swearing allegiance to me.
Prucus's glory?
I planned to become the head of the Count Prucus family. Prucus's prosperity was exactly what I desired.
There was nothing I needed to do for Hassent, no sacrifice I had to make.
It was like a pumpkin rolling in, vine and all.
"I promise. I will ensure that no one ever dares to disregard the Count Prucus family again."
At my response, the white-haired Old Butler closed his eyes and bowed deeply.
"Please wield this old blade wisely, my Lord."
Today, I had gained two allies.