Chapter 376: Time to Create One. (3)

"What's wrong with that one?"

At Ghislain's question, everyone turned to look at the tilted catapult.

This wasn't good. It wouldn't be able to hit its target properly.

Galbarik and the dwarves began to sweat nervously.

"Why, why is it like this?"

They couldn't believe a defect had appeared in their flawless design.

Claude glanced at the dwarves, grinning mischievously, and shouted.

"Just fire it!"

Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!

The stones launched from the four functioning catapults struck the fortress walls accurately. But the defective catapult? Its projectile had a different trajectory.

Whish!

The tilted catapult sent its stone flying wildly, failing to create a proper arc and plummeting straight toward the ground.

Thunk! Thud! Thunk!

The stone bounced across the ground a few times before coming to a halt. Without the proper angle, it was no surprise that it didn't perform well. This kind of catapult was practically useless.

"....."

Silence fell over the group. Even though most of the catapults worked, it wasn't a complete success.

The design relied on Galbanium spear shafts for mobility, but if defects like this went undetected, it would cause chaos on the battlefield.

If a critical defect appeared during combat, it could ruin an entire operation.

Feeling the weight of everyone's disappointed stares, Galbarik shouted in a panic.

"Wait, wait! There must be a reason! Hold on!"

Galbarik and the dwarves rushed to the defective catapult. They tried to identify the problem, but their nerves were too frayed for proper focus.

Seeing this, Claude whispered to Wendy.

"Now that I think about it, the dwarves have never made anything right on the first try. Remember the airship? The chicken coop? Am I wrong? Isn't it all just hype? Ow, why are you pushing me?!"

Wendy gave Claude a sharp look, silencing him by shoving him aside.

But Galbarik and the dwarves had already heard Claude's snarky comment. Sweat seemed to pour from their eyes as they grew increasingly anxious.

Their stress prevented them from finding the issue quickly. Nothing appeared broken or cracked.

As they fumbled, Ghislain casually approached and said.

"It's probably a mismatch in the connector size or shaft length. Check it again."

"Gah!"

Galbarik inspected it and noticed subtle discrepancies. The slight differences had caused the catapult to tilt.

Such problems rarely occurred with crude wooden catapults. Thick wooden frames provided enough stability even if the components didn't match perfectly.

But the thin frames of the spear shafts amplified even minor inconsistencies, leading to such defects.

"Ugh… How did you spot this so quickly, my lord?"

"Well… it just seemed likely since it was tilting."

Ghislain brushed it off. In truth, it was an issue he had encountered in his past life.

When using Galbanium shafts from different regions, slight variations in specifications had caused similar problems.

Galbarik realized why the defect had occurred.

"Ugh… we'll need to recheck the molds in every smithy."

Although they had standardized the specifications and distributed the guidelines, human error was inevitable. Differences had crept in during production.

Ghislain placed a hand on Galbarik's shoulder and said.

"Let's make sure it's accurate and quick this time, okay?"

"…Fine."

Annoyed but unable to argue since the results spoke for themselves, Galbarik and the dwarves resolved to work even harder. They would need to re-inspect all the molds and personally craft the problematic parts.

Ghislain smirked as he walked away. Even though there had been a defect, he had anticipated some trial and error.

'At least the medium-sized ones look good.'

The medium-sized catapults, assembled by teams of 200, had demonstrated satisfactory range and power.

The next step was testing the large catapults, which required five medium-sized catapults to be combined. These large catapults were the ultimate siege weapons, capable of obliterating fortified castles and strongholds.

As the group packed up amidst the awkward atmosphere, they began to disperse.

Claude, chatting with Wendy as they left, muttered.

"See? I told you! The dwarves are overrated! They've never succeeded on the first try. It's all just hype— Ow, stop pushing me! Let's walk slower! My legs hurt!"

Wendy forcibly shoved Claude forward to end his whining. Alpoi, wearing his armband, walked past and casually commented.

"How hard can it be to make something like that? They've gotten lazy. It's because they don't study. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

The dwarves heard the remarks but couldn't bring themselves to retort.

For some reason, every new project in this territory seemed to fail once or twice before succeeding.

"Ugh… that smug Claude and Alpoi are the worst."

They felt it was unfair. The large incubator project, for instance, had only been delayed because the mages kept tinkering with it.

But Claude insisted it was a failure because it cost more money, and Alpoi had gleefully chimed in to mock them.

"Let's go. Just to spite those jerks, we're going to make it perfect this time."

Galbarik's determination sparked nods of agreement among the dwarves.

This time, they vowed to produce something flawless and awe-inspiring. Their pride as craftsmen was on the line.

Leaving the sulking dwarves behind, Ghislain turned to Claude, who was trailing him.

"Is everything ready?"

"Of course! We can send it immediately. Let me show you."

Claude led Ghislain to a wide open space filled with a staggering amount of supplies—food, weapons, and armor.

"This is the first shipment. We're planning up to three rounds of deliveries."

"Branford Marquis will be surprised."

"Absolutely! Nobody would expect a miser like you to send such lavish gifts… Ow, ow!"

Claude ducked behind Wendy after receiving a smack.

The supplies were intended as aid for the royalist faction. With their abundant resources, Ghislain planned to bolster the loyalist nobles.

The Galbanium armor and weapons would significantly enhance the strength of the royalist knights.

"This should keep them from being overrun."

While it wouldn't be enough to directly confront the Duke faction's main forces, it would help them hold their ground against other duchy allies.

Rubbing his bruised face, Claude commented.

"With this, the royalists should be able to hold the duke faction at bay for quite a while."

Ghislain replied with a grin.

"Good. That gives me time to utterly destroy Marquis Rodrick."

By seizing strategic points in the west and cutting off enemy supply lines, Ghislain would ensure the royalist and duke factions' focus remained on the south and east.

And during that distraction, Ghislain would enact his own plans.

***

Raul read the successive reports with a grave expression. The situation was truly dire.

Among the reports, the most shocking was the true power of Count Fenris.

"That man… has truly reached the level of a Master and killed Delmud?"

No matter how many times he read it, he couldn't believe it. He recalled the evaluation made by Count Balzac during the banquet.

—- "Every movement and breath of his is extraordinary. But just by looking at him, you wouldn't think he's that strong…"

At the time, it was certain that Count Fenris hadn't reached the level of a Master. There was no way Balzac, with his keen eyes, could have been mistaken.

If that was the case, it meant that in just a few years, he had ascended to the level of a Master, a testament to his exceptional talent.

"We made a mistake…."

The regret that Desmond and Delmud had felt was now Raul's to bear. They should have killed the upstart Fenris before worrying about the North or anything else.

But it was too late. Count Fenris had become an untouchable figure.

"He even destroyed the Crimson Magic Tower…."

For years, they had poured resources into producing a 7th-circle mage. That card, which was supposed to be a powerful asset for the civil war and beyond, was now wasted.

They had lost not only Desmond but also Delmud. Now, all that remained in the North was Amelia—and even that was becoming a problem.

"Contact with the proxy… has been lost?"

At Raul's question, one of his aides replied cautiously.

"Yes, we confirmed they entered the North, but their whereabouts have become unclear."

"If their location suddenly became unknown, it means they're dead."

The proxy had been accompanied by highly skilled knights and soldiers. If they were dead, it could only mean an even stronger force had attacked them.

And in the North, only Fenris and Rayfold had such power.

But Rayfold was officially neutral. Just as with Desmond, it was not known that he had joined the duke faction.

There was no way Count Fenris would have targeted the proxy knowing this.

"Was it Amelia?"

Raul knew that Amelia was ambitious. But it was hard to believe she would betray the Duke faction, knowing the power they wielded.

An aide asked cautiously.

"What should we do? Should we send another proxy?"

"No, there's no time for that. We'll wait to see how Amelia moves after the war begins before making a decision."

"Understood."

For now, the issues with the Crimson Magic Tower and the proxy were less pressing than the larger problem.

Raul looked at the report before him, suppressing his anger.

"Marquis Rodrick…"

He was one of the most significant and influential nobles in the Duke faction. How he moved could change the entire game.

But now, on the eve of the civil war, he had picked a fight with Count Fenris.

"He's insisting on moving his army?"

Though he claimed it was to avenge his son, Raul knew better. The marquis was acting out of pride and ambition.

Worse, he had dared to "inform" the Duke faction rather than request approval, essentially declaring that he would no longer follow their directives.

"To be held back by one man…"

Raul closed his eyes. Ever since things had started going wrong, the situation had spiraled out of control, becoming impossible to manage.

And at the center of it all was Count Fenris.

After contemplating for a while, Raul finally nodded to himself.

"Yes, we've passed the point of managing this. We must now resolve it through force…."

At his words, the aides swallowed nervously.

It wasn't that the Duke faction had lacked power until now. They had simply been conserving it for the greater cause.

But now, everything was slipping out of their grasp. If this continued, they would only strengthen their enemies further.

Raul opened his eyes and asked his aides.

"Are the preparations ready?"

"We can mobilize at any time. However, we may need to adjust our strategy based on Marquis Rodrick and Amelia's movements."

"Understood. Summon the forces stationed across the territories, and I'll select the commanders. Conduct one final inspection to ensure no oversight."

"Yes, sir. What about Marquis Rodrick?"

The marquis had notified them of his plan to split his army into two. It was obvious that even if they tried to stop him, he would persist.

Raul spoke with a cold glint in his eyes.

"Let him be. We'll plan our strategy around it. After the war, I'll see to his end myself."

Having decided on war, Raul felt no hesitation. Those who defied him, whether friend or foe, would pay the price.

After a moment of thought, Raul asked a seemingly unrelated question.

"It's been a while since we received word. How soon are they expected to arrive?"

"They should arrive within a month."

"Good. Once 'he' arrives, I'll report directly to His Grace. Proceed with the preparations."

"Yes, sir."

The Duke's aides began gathering troops and conducting inspections. They also discreetly contacted allied nobles within the faction.

When the long-awaited arrival finally occurred, Raul went directly to see Ernheart.

Ernheart greeted him with a relaxed smile and asked.

"So, I hear you've encountered many troubles. Have you made your decision?"

Raul broke out in a cold sweat. Though he controlled the flow of information and withheld certain details, Ernheart somehow knew everything without even leaving his chambers.

Raul bowed deeply.

"…Yes, Your Grace."

"Raul, we are building a new world. Do not be swayed by trivial matters."

"I understand."

"Good. I look forward to seeing results this time. Handle it well."

As Ernheart waved dismissively, Raul hurriedly added.

"The one they sent has arrived. He wishes to pay his respects to Your Grace."

Ernheart nodded.

"Send him in."

Boom!

The grand doors to the audience hall opened, and a group entered.

They were knights clad in radiant silver armor. The man at their forefront immediately drew gasps of admiration from the Duke's vassals.

"My goodness…"

"Such a knight exists?"

"Incredible…"

The man's golden hair shimmered like sunlight, and his striking appearance combined with his ornate armor exuded an aura of unapproachable nobility.

Even his every step seemed to radiate sanctity.

His presence was overwhelming. Standing beside Ernheart, the kingdom's finest sword, Count Kaien Balzac, narrowed his eyes as he observed the man.

With an intrigued expression, Ernheart asked.

"Who are you?"

The man bowed gracefully and spoke.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace. I have come to aid your great cause…"

As he lifted his head slightly, his eyes revealed a ferocity and cruelty that contrasted sharply with his refined appearance.

"I am Idun, Commander of the Silver Knight Order."

This man, who would later be known as one of the Continent's Seven Strongest and called the "Noble Knight," was the very person who, in Ghislain's previous life, had personally severed his head.

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