Chapter 366: Who's Bullying Who? (3)

"What… what is that?"

The Rodrick forces charging forward came to a halt, stunned by the sight of hundreds of spears hovering in midair.

Such a bizarre phenomenon was new to them.

"He's a mage after all!"

Brian clenched his teeth. If he were a mage, it explained the feats that had been circulating in rumors.

'It's too late to turn back. Better to push forward quickly.'

They were already in a straight charge. Taking those spears head-on would cause significant losses.

But stopping wasn't an option either, as reinforcements were rushing in from behind.

'We can endure this. We just need to break through.'

With nearly a thousand cavalrymen, it was unthinkable that foot soldiers could stop them all. They just needed to endure the initial losses.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

Casting magic takes time, and the closer one is to the caster, the less damage they take.

Knowing this, the Rodrick forces gritted their teeth and urged their horses forward.

Watching the relentless advance, Ghislain lightly flicked his hands to either side. Unlike other mages, he didn't need long casting times.

Swish!

The spears shot toward the Rodrick forces at incredible speed.

"Hold the line! Break through!"

Brian's shout rallied the cavalry to raise their shields. But Ghislain's attacks, enhanced by his mastery, couldn't be stopped so easily.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"Aaaargh!"

Brian barely managed to deflect a spear, but his face twisted in horror.

"What… what is this?"

Cavalrymen were skewered as if by massive skewers, their bodies flung into the air. In a single move, Ghislain had wiped out nearly half the forces.

This was a technique that had made the mercenary king famous even in his past life. Though some had dismissed Ghislain as a mere footnote among the continent's top seven fighters, his mastery of battlefield tactics placed him among the top three in terms of war execution.

It was impossible for a thousand troops to withstand such an assault.

Neigh!

"Run away!"

"He's really at Master-level!"

"We can't win with these numbers!"

The Rodrick forces instantly lost their will to fight. Some pulled their reins sharply to turn and flee.

Brian, shocked, shouted desperately.

"Charge, you fools! Run and you'll die!"

Brian's warnings fell on deaf ears. These soldiers, who had grown complacent in the peace of the West, couldn't handle such chaos.

Their formation crumbled. Soldiers collided and fell as they abruptly halted or turned.

Clicking his tongue, Ghislain muttered.

"How pathetic. Is this the army of the great Marquis of the West?"

He had felt it during the fight with Martin as well—discipline was abysmal.

They had ruled unchallenged for so long that they had no real enemies. Naturally, this had led to complacency.

But that didn't mean they could be underestimated.

"They do have money and resources."

Sometimes sheer numbers outweigh any technique or power. While Count Desmond's strength in the North came from his highly trained elite soldiers, Marquis Rodrick's strength lay in his endless supply of troops funded by his wealth.

Ghislain, having experienced the overwhelming numbers of the kingdom's forces in his past life, knew firsthand how dangerous they could be.

Until their strength was thoroughly diminished, he couldn't afford to be careless.

"Finish them off."

At Ghislain's command, knights wielding greatswords charged forward on either side.

Boom!

"Aaaaargh!"

The Rodrick forces, already disorganized and demoralized, couldn't hold their ground against the 400 knights.

Brian, unable to fight or flee, stood paralyzed.

'I made a mistake. I underestimated them. There's a reason they're called the strongest in the North.'

It was too late for regret. They had placed too much faith in their own strength and power.

Looking back, the Rodrick forces had only ever bullied those weaker than them. They had never faced a truly formidable opponent.

Then again, who would dare attack the great territory of Rodrick?

'I have to escape! I must report this!'

Brian, snapping back to his senses, gripped his reins tightly.

Even if it was just news of their annihilation, it would give others a rough idea of Fenris's strength. It was an excuse to justify his desire to survive.

But before he could flee, someone approached him swiftly.

Gillian swung an axe at Brian, who had spoken to him earlier.

"Eek!"

Brian, having lost his will to fight, couldn't respond properly.

The axe narrowly missed his body.

"What are you doing?"

Gillian frowned and turned to the side. Kaor had shoved him aside and extended his sword.

Stab!

"Ugh…"

Brian, pierced through the throat by Kaor's sword, coughed up blood before collapsing.

"Hahaha! Did you see that? I got the enemy commander! I'm faster and stronger than the old man!"

Kaor shouted triumphantly, but Gillian ignored him and turned away. Dealing with Kaor wasn't worth the trouble.

"Old man! Are you ignoring me?"

Kaor ranted and raved, but Gillian continued to ignore him, focusing on slaughtering the remaining soldiers.

With their commander dead and no chance to flee, the Rodrick forces were wiped out without much resistance.

Ghislain surveyed the now-silent battlefield, where he hadn't even had to exert much effort, and spoke.

"Did they think they could harass us with this?"

Marquis Rodrick was infamous for his cruelty. He was known for relentlessly tormenting his enemies.

He never finished things in one blow. He preferred to destroy his opponents' foundations piece by piece, dragging them into despair before delivering the final blow.

That's why Ghislain had predicted from the start that Rodrick would target the caravan first.

'He pulled the same stunts in my past life.'

Ghislain, who had gathered information on all the nobles to prepare for war against the kingdom, knew Marquis Rodrick's tendencies well.

Smirking, Ghislain said.

"Now, let's move on to the next plan. He's spent his life harassing others. This time, we'll be the ones to harass him."

***

"What… Fenris killed the Crimson Magic Tower Lord?"

Even Marquis Branford, known for his unflinching composure, widened his eyes in surprise upon hearing the news.

And he wasn't the only one. Every noble attending the royal council meeting was left gaping in disbelief.

Marquis Maurice Macquarie, the kingdom's commander-in-chief, stammered as he spoke.

"Th-that brat actually reached the level of a Master? Is it true? Did he really kill a 7th-circle mage by himself?"

The messenger bowed deeply and answered with precision.

"Yes, the Scarlet Flame Magic Tower has confirmed it. Many mages witnessed the duel. Furthermore, the Crimson Magic Tower has been completely destroyed by Count Fenris."

"….."

The nobles were stunned into silence by the shocking news.

Further details revealed that the incident had begun as a duel during a tower exchange event, which then escalated into a dispute.

While the duel itself might be excused, the destruction of the entire tower was a matter that warranted censure.

But it wasn't as though there wasn't any justification.

Too many people had heard Delmud declare that he would destroy the Scarlet Flame Magic Tower and kill Count Fenris.

It could have been fabricated by Fenris, but if Delmud had indeed said those words, the justification was clear.

Regardless, the important fact was that Ghislain had the skill to kill Delmud.

The hesitant messenger, seeing the nobles' ambiguous reactions, finally pulled out a letter and handed it to Marquis Branford.

"This is a letter from the former lord of the Crimson Magic Tower. It states that the Crimson Magic Tower was a puppet of the duchy and acted under their orders to destroy them."

"What?"

Marquis Branford and the others were astonished. They had received no such information.

Marquis Branford read through the letter and nodded.

"There's sufficient evidence."

He passed the letter around for others to read.

"My goodness! The duchy was plotting such a scheme!"

"We could have suffered a major blow if this had gone unnoticed."

"The thought of a 7th-circle mage launching a surprise attack on the battlefield sends chills down my spine."

The nobles shuddered. If Count Fenris hadn't uncovered this and stopped it in time, they would have been in grave trouble.

Moreover, he had killed a 7th-circle mage. The Duchy's power had taken a significant hit.

Marquis Branford, wearing a satisfied expression, nodded again.

"As a token of gratitude for stopping Delmud, they've pledged their participation in the civil war. This will be a great help, especially since we were short on mages."

The Scarlet Flame Magic Tower had agreed to send its disciples soon. An increase in magic strength was guaranteed.

The other nobles were equally delighted by this news. Stronger forces meant a higher chance of victory in the civil war.

Still, as wonderful as this was, the revelation that Ghislain was a Master remained a shocking one.

The nobles mumbled to themselves, almost involuntarily.

"Count Fenris is truly a Master… and already hard enough to control as it is…"

"How could someone so young achieve such power?"

"Even Count Balzac didn't reach the level of Master at that age."

"A once-in-a-millennium talent."

At someone's muttering, Maurice exploded in anger.

"Of course, such a person should only appear once every thousand years!"

That was true. The world couldn't handle more than one such troublemaker.

Hearing the nobles' mutterings, Marquis Branford smiled contentedly.

"This is excellent news. Count Fenris is a Master."

Maurice raised an eyebrow and asked.

"What's so good about it? That brat is completely out of our control now. He was unruly enough before, and now, with his power, he won't listen to a word we say. That cursed duck becoming a Master—it's got to be dark magic."

Maurice couldn't let go of the theory that Ghislain was a dark mage. If he ever detected any hint of dark magic, he'd likely call for his immediate execution.

But for Marquis Branford, it didn't matter whether Ghislain was a dark mage or not.

"Think about it. A Master is practically a strategic weapon and a deterrent in war. The royal family has its own Master, which is why Count Balzac doesn't dare act recklessly."

"That's true, isn't it? A Master, whether through assassination or participation in war, can inflict devastating damage."

"We've gained another piece of that caliber. True, he doesn't exactly follow orders, but we do share a common enemy, don't we?"

"Oh…"

"Even with the same number of Masters, the Duchy still had the advantage in magic power, didn't they? They had one more 7th-circle mage."

"Yes, this finally levels the playing field. And the Scarlet Flame Magic Tower is compensating for our shortage of mages."

Only then did the others brighten.

Upon reflection, this was a tremendous development. It was as though the royalist faction had gained another Master.

The sides were now evenly matched.

This was a much bigger deal than the Scarlet Flame Magic Tower joining the fight. The power of a single Master far outweighed that of a 7th-circle mage.

Although Ghislain's unruly behavior had been a point of contention before, the situation changed in the context of preparing for a civil war.

The nobles were delighted, chattering amongst themselves.

"This is wonderful news. We have far more strategic options now."

"So, the North is as good as secured."

"At this rate, we might really have a shot."

Laughter spread among the nobles. The mood had recently been one of cautious optimism about confronting the Duchy.

Now, with Fenris recognized as the strongest in the North and an additional Master on their side, some even dared to think victory might come easily.

As the lively atmosphere continued, another messenger rushed in and reported urgently to Marquis Branford.

"Marquis Rodrick has sent a declaration that he intends to attack Fenris. He claims it is a territorial dispute based on legitimate grounds, not mere factional conflict."

"What?"

It hadn't been long since the cheerful news, and now they were greeted with troublesome developments.

"What do you mean? Why is Marquis Rodrick declaring war?"

The messenger handed over a detailed report and a letter from Marquis Rodrick to Marquis Branford.

Reading the documents with a fierce gaze, Marquis Branford pressed a hand to his forehead.

Maurice urged him impatiently.

"What is it? What's going on? Why is Marquis Rodrick suddenly fighting Fenris?"

Without a word, Marquis Branford handed over the letter.

Maurice, after reading it, crumpled it angrily and shouted.

"That cursed duck! Why is he clinging to that mercenary company! I knew this would happen the moment he started playing mercenary games! What are we going to do about this?"

The royalist faction's meeting room, briefly filled with joy, descended into chaos once again.

Marquis Rodrick was a great lord of the West. No matter how strong Fenris had become, he couldn't match Rodrick's forces on paper.

Besides, two great lords clashing now would benefit no one. War required careful and strategic decisions.

Marquis Branford quickly instructed his steward.

"Marquis Rodrick has also announced the cancellation of the cosmetics contract. Stop sales immediately, order the merchant guilds to stay away from the West, and tell Count Fenris not to act rashly."

"Yes, my lord."

Turning to Maurice, Marquis Branford spoke firmly.

"We must mediate."

"Mediation? How do you plan to mediate? Marquis Rodrick is an ambitious man. Now that he has an excuse, he'll try to push beyond the West."

"We must try. Even if civil war is inevitable, it cannot begin like this. Otherwise, we'll all end up being led by his whims."

Maurice nodded. The royalist faction's preference was to delay the war as long as possible.

Marquis Branford gave strict instructions to his steward.

"Tell Count Fenris explicitly: do not engage in battle. We will handle the mediation."

"Yes, my lord."

After emphasizing this point, Marquis Branford led the royalist nobles back into discussion.

The two sides hadn't clashed yet. They needed to find a way to placate or threaten their way out of this and delay the conflict.

On the second day of intense planning, a messenger burst into the room, breathless.

"Marquis Rodrick's forces have attacked the cosmetics merchant guild heading to the West!"

"What? Does that mean he timed his declaration to coincide with the attack?"

"That… seems to be the case."

"That bastard…"

Marquis Branford ground his teeth. Marquis Rodrick had deliberately aligned his declaration with the attack, making his intentions clear.

"Tell Count Fenris again that we will handle this. He must not act recklessly."

"Well… about that…"

The messenger hesitated, prompting Marquis Branford to glare.

"What is it? Speak up!"

"The Rodrick forces were completely annihilated."

"What?"

"Count Fenris… was there."

Marquis Branford blinked in disbelief.

"What was he doing there?"

"I'm not sure. But the Rodrick forces were wiped out. And…"

"And?"

A hint of unease crept onto Marquis Branford's face. This news didn't bode well.

"Well…"

An impatient Maurice sprang to his feet and shouted.

"What is it! What's that damned duck done this time?"

The messenger closed his eyes tightly and yelled.

"Count Fenris is raiding the vassal territories of Marquis Rodrick with great enthusiasm!"

"….."

At that, everyone fell silent, their mouths agape. They all shared the same thought.

This lunatic.

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