Clang!
The iron bar on the platform split in half and fell to the ground.
"Wow!"
"He cut it! Gordon really cut the iron bar!"
Cheers erupted from the audience, echoing through the demonstration hall.
Due to Gordon's lack of skill, the cut surface was rough, as if sawn through forcibly, but there was no doubt he had sliced through the iron.
Claude stood frozen with his mouth agape.
'He really cut the iron bar with a sword? He managed to use mana in such a short time?'
To prevent any cheating by using a weapon's weight, Claude had personally prepared the weapon.
The fact that Gordon had used an ordinary longsword to cut through the thick iron bar was clear proof he had truly used mana.
A surge of new hope began to fill Claude's mind.
He had opposed the campaign for safety, but this changed things.
'Even if they're at the level of beginner knights, having hundreds of them is a massive force!'
This time, Ghislain had trained 400 knights.
Except for the Delphine Duchy, no estate could boast such a large number of knights.
Although their quality might fall short compared to others, they had the numbers to make up for it.
'I need to devise a new strategy. With this many knights, it's possible!'
Just as Claude, flushed with excitement, lifted his head to speak to Ghislain—
"Ughhh!"
Gordon collapsed, coughing up blood.
Foaming at the mouth and trembling, Gordon was quickly carried away on a stretcher by attendants.
"..."
The atmosphere instantly turned cold. The vassals, who had been cheering moments earlier, fell silent, and Claude's excitement evaporated.
The awkward silence was broken by Ghislain's voice.
"What? What's the problem? Haven't you ever seen someone cough up blood and collapse before?"
"..."
No one could find the words to respond, exchanging uneasy glances instead. The entire situation was problematic, but they didn't know where to start.
The vassals looked to Claude. When dealing with sophistry, it was best to leave it to an expert.
Claude, quick to gather his thoughts, opened his mouth.
"That's not a knight! That's fraud! In fact, it's 100% fraud!"
"What fraud?"
"How can we go to war with them? Swing a sword once and collapse? That's ridiculous!"
"But he used mana, didn't he? The deal was that they use mana, wasn't it? There was no condition about not collapsing afterward."
Ghislain's shameless response left Claude speechless.
He wasn't wrong. The bet had stipulated that the knights could use mana, not that they would remain standing after using it.
Still, Claude couldn't shake the feeling of being swindled.
Frustrated, he stamped his feet and turned to Wendy beside him.
"Hey, say something! Is this normal? Huh? Is this normal?"
"Uh… Why are you dragging me into this?"
Wendy, usually calm and expressionless, was startled by Claude's desperate outburst and took a step back.
She understood the situation wasn't good, but why involve her?
But Claude was relentless.
"Come on, say something! Honestly, you could probably beat all of them by yourself, right? Right? Just admit it."
"I… I can't say something like that…"
"This isn't a game! At this rate, they'll all get dragged into a war and die! Help me save them by saying something! Even those weirdos deserve to live!"
Claude wasn't wrong. There was no way these knights could fight properly.
Finally, Wendy sighed and spoke softly.
"Honestly… I think I could beat them all by myself."
Her words drew groans from the vassals.
The knights lying in sickbeds hadn't participated, but even so, there were over 200 knights present.
If Wendy could single-handedly defeat such a large number, calling them knights seemed like an overstatement.
The knights scowled at her dismissive remark.
No matter how skilled a personal attendant she was, a mere maid belittling knights was unacceptable.
Lucas, who loved to boost, couldn't hold back and stepped forward.
"You! How dare you insult us! Face me in a duel right now… Cough! Ack, this is humiliating!"
Mid-sentence, Lucas began coughing up blood and dropped to one knee.
Recently, his health had been so poor that even slight agitation caused blood to rush to his head, resulting in nosebleeds.
The knights around him supported Lucas and tried to calm him down.
"Don't get worked up. Take deep breaths."
"Just let it go. You can't beat her."
"Yeah, she's ridiculously strong. Challenging her is a bad idea."
Watching the pitiful knights, Claude turned to Ghislain with a pained expression.
"Do you have any other forces?"
"You know as well as I do that we don't."
"You said during the meeting that you'd handle the lack of troops!"
"Every problem has its time. Troops will come in due time, so don't worry too much."
Claude rubbed his temples.
Realistically, the available forces were limited. They could either request help from Marquess Branford or borrow troops from Perdium.
But since they were the ones initiating the attack against the Ducal faction, there was no way Marquess Branford would lend his forces.
As for Perdium, which had to defend the North, the troops they could spare were limited.
It seemed increasingly likely that Ghislain's claim of gathering more forces was a bluff to silence opposition. He clearly intended to wage war with these half-baked knights.
"You're planning to go to war with those guys? You call those knights? What use are they?"
But Ghislain appeared completely unconcerned.
"They're fine. Right now, they're overworking themselves to master the mana cultivation technique. They'll recover after some rest."
Unlike the knights at the northern fortress, these knights had been relentlessly extracting and utilizing their mana.
Since they were unfamiliar with the sensation of using mana, they needed to get used to it.
Their bodies had simply broken down from overexertion, but with adequate rest, they would recover quickly.
Of course, resting too long could cause problems, but they'd push themselves to avoid that in pursuit of longevity.
Claude and the vassals, unaware of the intricate mechanics of Ghislain's endless training cycle, continued to protest, but Ghislain remained firm.
"Enough. The knights have used mana as per the agreement, so the campaign is confirmed. No further objections will be entertained. If you disagree, you're wrong, so focus on preparing for the campaign."
As a bonus, Claude and Alpoi's terms of servitude were extended by 10 years due to the bet.
After some heated back-and-forth, Claude, having given up on persuading Ghislain and resigned to his fate, asked.
"Are you planning to depart immediately?"
"No, I need to check if the items the dwarves are making are ready, and the knights still need more tactical training. Plus, it's not the right time yet."
"What do you mean by 'the right time'?"
"The best time to fight. There's always a right time. It's coming soon."
"…Understood."
Claude, watching Ghislain delay despite his earlier urgency, felt a glimmer of hope.
He had seemed ready to invade Cabaldi County immediately, but perhaps now that the time had come, he was hesitating.
If Ghislain decided to call off the campaign, it would be a blessing.
As Claude's expressions shifted rapidly, Ghislain asked.
"By the way, are we still stockpiling food?"
Claude seized the opportunity to complain.
"Lord, wouldn't it be better to stop? Even after sending some to Perdium, we have more than enough. Plus, that monster wheat will be harvested soon, and the yield will be massive again."
Having excess food wasn't inherently bad, but there were limits. With food supplies far exceeding consumption, storage had become a challenge.
But Ghislain shook his head firmly.
"No. Keep buying up everything in the North. Offer extra payment if necessary, but acquire as much as possible. Understood?"
"Why are you doing this? With what we have now, Fenris and Perdium could eat for over ten years. The surplus will rot before we can consume it!"
Ghislain's obsession with hoarding food was almost bizarre.
Despite repeated suggestions to sell the surplus for funds, he refused to budge.
Even though selling a fraction of the stockpile would generate substantial revenue, Ghislain continued hoarding while securing other sources of income.
The vassals couldn't fathom his reasoning.
'Is he haunted by the ghost of famine or something?'
To Claude's frustration, Ghislain replied nonchalantly.
"I have a plan. You wouldn't believe me if I explained, would you?"
"Well… no."
"Exactly. Just keep buying. Don't stop until I say so. Buy everything."
"Fine, fine."
Claude gave up on arguing. He had reached a point of resignation.
'Do whatever you want.'
In the worst-case scenario, Claude planned to take charge of the defense. If needed, Perdium could provide enough troops to hold a siege.
Claude had even mapped out escape routes in case Ghislain's campaign failed and Perdium fell.
With even Claude surrendering to Ghislain's stubbornness, the vassals sighed in despair.
Seeing their dejected faces, Ghislain smiled brightly.
'Good, everyone's doing great.'
To an outsider, it might seem like he was issuing impossible orders, forcing people to accomplish absurd tasks.
But in reality, the vassals, mages, dwarves, citizens, knights, and soldiers—all complained endlessly yet executed their tasks remarkably well.
Though the situation appeared chaotic on the surface, the foundation was being built with surprising solidity.
This was a testament to the exceptional capabilities of those under his command.
The plans Ghislain couldn't achieve alone were coming to fruition thanks to them.
'It's something to be grateful for. But let's push a bit harder.'
The timing Ghislain awaited was drawing near.
All preparations had to be completed before then.
***
While the knights rested to recover, others didn't have the luxury.
Everyone was busy developing the estate and gathering supplies for war.
Amid the nonstop work, good news arrived.
"Lord! Lord! We've done it! We've finally succeeded!"
Galbarik and the dwarves approached Ghislain, tears streaming down their faces.
Startled, Ghislain asked, "Who… are you?"
"It's me! Galbarik! You don't even recognize me after working us to death!"
The man at the front yelled angrily.
Had their grueling schedule taken such a toll?
Galbarik and the dwarves looked so gaunt and hollow-eyed that they were unrecognizable.
With their thin frames and sunken faces, they resembled bearded goblins.
Ghislain chuckled awkwardly.
"Haha, so it's you, Galbarik. Wow, you've aged so much in just a few days I didn't recognize you. I heard dwarves have long lifespans—is that a lie?"
Grinding his teeth, Galbarik glared at Ghislain, his beard trembling with rage.
"Damn it! Of course, we look like this! We haven't slept because of all the work! We're going to die at this rate!"
Though they had worked tirelessly to avoid being sent to the vanguard, they desperately wanted to escape.
Some dwarves had even attempted to flee but were caught—surprisingly, the most zealous pursuer was Alpoi.
He couldn't stand seeing other slaves escape.
"Especially that bastard Alpoi! He's not human! He's the worst! The lord's lapdog, that's what he is!"
Ignoring Galbarik's rant, Ghislain asked, "So, what did you succeed at?"
Galbarik's angry expression vanished, replaced by a radiant smile.
"We've finally completed the airship!"
[T/L: Please support me and read 75 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]