Sensing something strange, Ascon grumbled irritably.
"Ugh, the lord really doesn't get it. You can't kill us because you don't want to waste your money, so what's with the bluff? What are you planning to do if I become the representative and start leading? We're best at having fun, you know."
"You're all going to become soldiers now."
"…?"
The elves stared at Ghislain in disbelief. Did he seriously intend to use slaves as expensive as them for something like that?
Ascon, thinking he must have misheard, chuckled and asked again.
"What did you say we'd become?"
"Proud soldiers of the territory."
"You know how much we're worth, and you're saying that's what you want to do with us?"
His tone grew more disrespectful. Ghislain, still wearing the kindest of expressions, answered calmly.
"Yes. And since a healthy body nurtures a healthy mind, let's start by quitting alcohol and tobacco for now and focus on physical training."
"What training? We're not doing that!"
Ascon shouted, and the other elves nodded in agreement. Having lived their entire lives indulging in luxury, they had no intention of suddenly embracing hard work.
Besides, why spend such an exorbitant amount on elves if the plan was to make them soldiers?
It was an utterly incomprehensible statement.
Ascon, seemingly understanding something, nodded and said sarcastically.
"Oh, I get it! You're trying to play a power game because you think we're not going to listen, huh?"
"I won't waste time on that."
"Then why talk about training or soldiers? Have you ever seen an elf fight? Huh? We're a race specialized in leisure. That's why we're all so beautiful and handsome."
The notion of indulging in leisure because of beauty made no sense. Yet, swayed by their appearance, everyone else found it oddly convincing.
Of course, Ghislain vehemently disagreed. His territory had no need for people who used their looks as an excuse to live a life of idleness.
He had a special role in mind for the elves—a unique type of soldier.
"Training makes all the difference for elves. You can fight very well. So, from now on, we'll begin military training. Let's be reborn together."
"And I'm supposed to be the representative of this ridiculous soldier charade?"
"Exactly. I want your full cooperation."
"Ugh, damn it, my lord! You're so annoying! I told you I'm not going to be the representative! Why don't you understand what I'm saying? Do I look like some common human slave to you? Do you think someone as noble as me is the same as them?"
"Oh…"
Ascon had finally crossed a line. Ghislain looked at him with a mix of surprise and amusement.
Even in the face of such rudeness, Ghislain's aides took a step back rather than intervening. Some even looked to the sky, pretending not to notice.
Oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, Ascon continued shouting, his voice brimming with anger.
"Why are humans like this? Military training for elves? Are you insane? We're terrible at fighting! And what's this nonsense about being reborn? If my first love had worked out, I'd have a grandson your age!"
"Ha…"
Listening to Ascon's rant, Ghislain let out a hollow laugh.
"You're laughing? You think this is funny? Do you know how many masters I've had? Huh? Seven! Seven, damn it! And I have anger management issues, you know! People call me Angry Ascon, the foul-mouthed elf! Haven't you heard of me? You're a lord, and you don't even know my name?"
'Never heard of you. I'll have to ask Meriel or Rozalin later. Do you know this crazy elf? Angry Ascon? The Foul-Mouthed Elf? Is that even a real nickname for an elf?'
Looking at Ascon's reddened face and reckless shouting, Ghislain thought he truly lived life without fear.
Even if all elf slaves were like this, letting them continue their idle ways would be akin to admitting he had been scammed.
And if there was one thing Ghislain couldn't stand, it was being taken for a fool.
'Ah, people never listen when you try to talk nicely. You're dead meat. I really wanted to treat you well since you're a different race… Wait, different race?'
Ghislain considered himself neither a racist nor a violent person. He aspired to live as a nonviolent pacifist.
But just because he lived that way didn't mean he could eliminate widespread racial discrimination. Changing people's perceptions required something drastic.
A sudden realization sent a shiver down his spine.
'If these elves are so corrupted by human society… they're basically just long-lived humans with pointy ears.'
Yes, the answer was simple: stop thinking of them as elves and treat them as humans. That was true racial equality.
Reflecting on his latent bias, Ghislain resolved to embrace a more progressive mindset. All races would now be considered human.
With a bright smile, he said,
"You're human now. A human with pointy ears."
"What? I'm a noble elf!"
"Nope, starting today, you're human. And I'll think of all the elves here as humans too. That's true racial equality!"
As Ghislain began spouting nonsense, his aides took a few more steps back.
Ascon stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What the hell? Are you insane? Why am I human?"
"No, you're human. And humans communicate differently than elves. It's a much faster, more efficient method."
Because of their long lifespans, elves tended to be patient and leisurely in their decisions, making change slow.
While that wasn't inherently wrong, Ghislain didn't have the luxury of waiting for their gradual transformation.
He needed their immediate and full cooperation.
And the fastest way to achieve that?
'Mental reform.'
Rolling up his sleeves, Ghislain spoke with deliberate calm.
"You seem unaware, but I'm a renowned physician in the kingdom. Especially skilled at treating anger management issues—that's my specialty."
"Hahaha! You idiot! Treat me? How? What, do you have some magic pill?"
"I'll prescribe physical therapy instead of medication."
"What?"
"I just want to clarify—this isn't personal. I'm not that petty. This is… just me trying to help you as a fellow human."
"What the hell are you talking about—"
"Bite down. You might bite your tongue."
Pow!
"Gaaah!"
As Ghislain's fist landed, Ascon's scream echoed through the air.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
"You think I'll give in after a few hits? Gah! Do you think I've never been beaten before? You crazy bastard!"
Despite being beaten, Ascon continued to curse incessantly.
He had been punished many times by nobles trying to correct his behavior, but it never worked.
Unable to kill or maim him due to his value, they could only administer light punishments, which didn't faze him.
Ultimately, the frustrated nobles always resold him.
"Do your worst! Gah! Pain that doesn't kill me only makes me angrier! You brat! You're not even dry behind the ears yet!"
Knowing this wouldn't leave lasting damage, Ascon wasn't afraid. He figured Ghislain would tire out and sell him again.
Elves only feared truly insane masters who inflicted unnecessary cruelty, as they were rare but deadly.
But most of them couldn't do it because of money. And the elves, who had been slaves for a long time, had a keen eye for distinguishing such people.
'Tch! You're only beating me like this because you're worried about the money. Do you think I haven't figured that out after being a slave for so long? If you were truly cruel, you would've already killed a few as an example.'
Ascon felt confident in his victory. After all, humans were all the same. Unless they were truly insane, they'd stop after a moderate beating and sell him off again.
However, neither Ascon nor the other elves had ever encountered this completely different type of lunatic before.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
'What the hell? Why does it hurt more with each hit? And why isn't he getting tired? How long is he going to keep this up? Aaaah!'
Normally, people would stop once they vented their anger or got tired.
But Ghislain quietly continued his work, as if this were just another task.
'At this point, shouldn't I be injured or dead? Why does it only hurt without leaving any marks? This is insane!'
No one likes being beaten, and Ascon was no exception.
He had deliberately acted out, knowing that a little defiance would make his life easier.
But this pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It didn't leave visible injuries—it simply hurt.
Worse, instead of passing out, each blow brought sharp, unbearable pain that kept him alert.
"Damn it! When are you going to stop?"
Ghislain, still punching, replied calmly.
"When you actively cooperate with me. You should've listened when I asked nicely."
"If I die or get crippled, you'll lose money! It's a huge waste!"
"Don't worry about my money. I can heal you cleanly. That's what I'm best at."
"Screw you! I'll never cooperate! Let's see who outlasts who! My lifespan is longer than yours!"
"You're a severe case. I like a good challenge."
As dusk fell, Ascon stubbornly endured—or at least tried to.
"Young Master, it's time for dinner."
Servants quickly brought trays of food, which Belinda handed to Ghislain one by one.
With their skills, they moved seamlessly, Ghislain eating with one hand while continuing to pummel Ascon with the other.
After finishing his meal, Lowell approached with several documents.
"My lord, these need your approval."
Glancing through them, Ghislain signed with his free hand, all while keeping the punches coming.
The elves gaped in disbelief.
'He's eating and doing paperwork while beating him up?'
'And everyone's just watching like it's normal?'
'This place… Everyone here is crazy.'
Looking around, it was clear no one was normal.
The head butler, Claude, sat crouched on the ground, drawing pictures with a stick.
Wendy shook his shoulder, urging him.
"Lord Claude, we need to go. There's a lot of work piling up."
"Wait, I'm creating a masterpiece. This one's called 'The Fall of the Elven Race.'"
It was a bizarre sketch of elves being trampled by a monstrous demon.
Meanwhile, the mages and dwarves were taking bets on how long Ascon could last.
Even the white-haired warrior standing behind Ghislain hadn't moved a muscle, as if he were carved from wood.
No one seemed remotely normal.
Trying to hold out, Ascon began to realize the truth.
'This guy… He's a professional. I'm screwed. If I keep this up, I'm done for. And these people around him—they're not ordinary either.'
He had no idea how long he'd been beaten. Even the other elves, who had initially been watching with amusement, were now pale with fear.
Elves usually employed a give-and-take approach, manipulating situations to their advantage.
But this? A man who could keep beating someone while going about his day?
This was serious trouble.
After enduring a few more blows, Ascon finally broke, screaming.
"Stop! I give up! I'll do it! I'll be a soldier, okay? Let's talk like civilized people!"
Pow! Pow! Pow!
But Ghislain didn't stop. Beating Ascon had become part of his mana manipulation training.
'Hmm, how does it feel if I channel mana this way while hitting him?'
"Gaaah!"
In truth, Ghislain's mind was already focused on refining his mana technique, having long forgotten about Ascon.
"Please stop! I was wrong!"
'Ah, this method seems more effective.'
Pow!
"Uwaaaah!"
Ascon felt like he was losing his mind. Each blow seemed to send something into his body, and each time, it felt like his insides were being torn apart.
It was the pinnacle of torture—no outward damage but unbearable internal pain.
"Please, just stop! I'll do whatever you say! I'll cooperate completely!"
In the end, Ascon surrendered. Confronted with overwhelming force, even his anger management issues resolved themselves.
For the first time in his life, Ascon began begging for mercy.
[T/L: Please support me and read 145 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]