7

My strongest affinity is ice magic.

Ha! Suits someone as *cool* as me, right?

I even engraved some runes directly onto my body—like carving a tattoo. It was kinda fun.

With a superb teacher, I've gotten pretty strong. 

But I have one complaint: I don't have anyone to test my full power on. I can't exactly go all out on my servants. That wouldn't do.

What about my sister? No—no. That's going too far.

Fine, then… let's gather the soldiers and call it "training." That way, I can unleash my magic as much as I please.

Fuhahaha! It's so deliciously wicked—like a corrupt lord to break in his underlings and remind them who's on top!

So I headed to the training grounds. Plenty of surly faces among the gathered troops. Perfect for an "evil noble" routine. The thought of them bowing down to me gives me chills!

◇　◇　◇

Lancelot was a drunken soldier, working for the Noyadarma estate to support his wife and child. The military here was run like garbage. The officers were scum, and the men under them mostly dead-eyed. 

Lancelot didn't stand out; he just tried to fly under the radar. He never participated in the blatant corruption—but only because he was terrified of his wife's wrath if she found out. 

Maybe that made him look "upright" from the outside, so he survived Arc's purge. A number of crooked officers were let go, courtesy of Arc's orders—carried out by Lampard. In truth, just about every higher-up was involved in graft, so they were all sacked, leaving Lancelot at the top by default. 

He had some prior experience as a knight in the royal capital, so there was little opposition to promoting him. He was also, ironically, well-liked by his subordinates. Not because he was truly exceptional, but because everyone else above him had been so appalling that he seemed good by comparison. 

His swordsmanship wasn't spectacular, and he wasn't some brilliant strategist. But he had a knack for recognizing others' talents. He'd delegate tasks to the right people—mostly so he could slack off himself—and he was oddly skilled at placating folks, perhaps thanks to the many years he'd spent appeasing his wife. 

So no one complained about Lancelot's promotion—except Lancelot himself.

"Are you kidding me?!" 

All he wanted was a comfy salary, some booze, and maybe a few leisurely pursuits. A big shot position just meant more responsibility and headaches. 

Yet now he was the head of the count's army. A massive promotion, but not at all what he wanted.

He couldn't even refuse—his wife was thrilled, and his troops were equally enthusiastic. Lancelot alone despaired, pinned in place by everyone else's expectations. 

Then Arc announced he was personally visiting the training grounds—and even planned to participate. Lancelot's stomach churned. If anything happened to Arc, the first head on the chopping block would be Lancelot's. How would he face his wife if he lost his job?

As for the soldiers, they held Arc in fairly high esteem, partly because he'd sacked all the corrupt superiors who tormented them. Even if it wasn't the perfect workplace, it had improved significantly, and they appreciated Arc for that. 

But they had no idea about his strength, since Arc had rarely, if ever, joined them in training. Most assumed he was a paper tiger, a fragile noble who'd never wielded a sword.

"Hey, soldiers, I've come to train you," Arc said with a conceited smirk. "Show some gratitude."

The men stifled laughs. A teenager trying to act tough—it was almost cute.

"Heh, in that case, I'll spar with you," 

said a man with classic "henchman" vibes. Let's call him *Kamase.* 

Lancelot felt an ulcer forming. Kamase's tone with the count was absolutely disrespectful—grounds for immediate decapitation. Lancelot imagined the repercussions: his subordinate's head rolling, followed by his own. 

He lowered his gaze, massaging his temples. *How on earth will I explain this to my wife?* 

That's all he could think about. She'd just thrown him a party celebrating his promotion. Now what?

In the midst of his panic, everything went deathly silent.

When he finally looked up, Kamase lay on the ground, encased in ice, while Arc stood over him. Arc had taken him down in an instant.

It made no sense. Kamase wasn't weak. In fact, he was one of the strongest in the unit.

"Is that all?" Arc scoffed, lips curling in distaste. "That was hardly a warm-up. Anyone else care to try? I'm barely getting started."

One after another, soldiers challenged Arc but couldn't land a blow. A single kid took down the whole squad. It was not a pleasant sight for Lancelot, who could only think:

*This is what a real noble is like, huh…*

◇　◇　◇

In the original story, he ultimately betrays Arc and sides with the hero's party. When Dark Hand takes over Arc's territory, he miraculously escapes with his family (and loyal subordinates), only to cross paths with the protagonists. They need allies to fight Arc and beg for his help. 

He has no desire to risk his life—he just wants a decent salary, some liquor, and a carefree existence. But his wife and subordinates are all fired up about reclaiming the territory, so Lancelot is dragged along, eventually helping the heroes defeat Arc and becoming a local legend.

He's called *the Knight of all Knights* in the original, but even there, he was the same man at heart—an ordinary guy roped into a war he never wanted to fight. Whether in the original storyline or this alternate reality, it seems he can't escape being pushed into responsibilities bigger than himself.