Episode 618 Why Don’t You Understand the Meaning of Dialogue? 2

Simply seizing wealth would be nothing short of robbery, and Ghislain never considered himself a thief. He prided himself on being rational, always ensuring a fair exchange of what was owed and what was given. This situation was no different.

But the allied commanders clearly did not share his perspective, so he decided to explain further.

"We must hold accountable those who hoarded wealth and avoided the battlefield while others risked their lives."

"B-but they've already provided resources for the war effort…"

"Have they really?"

Ghislain leaned forward slightly, repeating his question.

"Did they truly contribute as much as we, who fought with our lives on the line?"

"..."

Of course not. Even as the kingdom teetered on the brink of falling to the rebels, most nobles hoarded their treasures and fled.

Take, for example, the Kingdom of Ceyron, which Claude had seized. They had even siphoned off aid meant for Ruthania. While other kingdoms hadn't stooped that low, many nobles had hidden their wealth and pretended to be impoverished, offering meager support at best.

From their perspective, this was the "right" thing to do. In a world where survival was uncertain, self-preservation was their priority.

But the tide had turned. It was time for them to repay the people who had risked their lives to protect them.

"..."

The commanders remained silent.

What Ghislain said was true, but the problem was that they would be the ones tasked with seizing this wealth. It would undoubtedly create chaos, and their positions might even be at risk. Openly opposing the domestic nobility was bound to make them enemies at home.

Why were they always the ones burdened with these troublesome tasks?

Understanding the nature of the nobility, Ghislain smirked and offered them a justification.

"As Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces, I declare that, due to the prolonged war, additional resources must be requisitioned. Please convey this to your respective governments."

This had been Ghislain's plan all along. Even when he boldly promised his soldiers rewards, he had always intended to take what was needed if supplies ran short.

Marquis Alpheren groaned internally.

I should have asked him back then. I should have said no.

His fear of what Ghislain might say had held him back, and now he deeply regretted it. Even with justification on their side, fierce opposition was inevitable.

The thought alone made him dread what lay ahead.

The other commanders felt the same. If it were possible to simply request and receive what they needed, the world would be a peaceful place. But that was not how things worked. Greed always turned requests into conflicts and chaos.

Marquis Alpheren stepped forward as their representative.

"Your reasoning is sound, but… this will not be as simple as it sounds. Many will refuse, and it could lead to another conflict."

Ghislain responded with an indifferent expression.

"Then tell them to fight the dragon in my place."

"..."

"I'm exhausted."

"..."

"I'm always the one fighting on the front lines. The more I think about it, the more unfair it feels."

"..."

"Forget it. I'll just leave. Do as you please. Oh, and by the way, we'll be taking the mages we captured. They're ours because we caught them."

Ghislain stood up, and the commanders panicked. Those closest to the Kingdom of Turian were particularly alarmed.

"W-wait! You're just tired, not refusing, right?"

One commander stammered, and the others chimed in with awkward smiles.

"Of course, of course. Supporting the fight against the dragon is only natural."

"If we don't, we'll all be doomed."

"Not helping would be treason, wouldn't it?"

Forcing smiles, the commanders tried to placate Ghislain, who sat back down with a bright grin.

"Oh my, I must have misunderstood. My impatience is a real problem. I got scolded for it a lot as a kid."

'You weren't scolded for impatience. You were scolded because you're insufferable.'

'Why is it always your way or no way?'

'You have no tact at all.'

The commanders wanted to cry. The man was impossible to reason with—he only ever resorted to threats. He didn't understand the concept of negotiation.

Marquis Alpheren sighed and spoke with difficulty.

"We understand the need to secure resources, but it will take time. It can't be done rashly; we'll need to proceed through… dialogue."

Thud.

Ghislain placed his sword on the table with a broad smile.

"This sword's name is 'Dialogue.' Funny thing is, when I draw it, no one seems to have trouble understanding me."

"..."

The message was clear: use force. There wasn't a single person present who didn't grasp his meaning.

The smile slowly disappeared from Ghislain's face as he adopted a more serious expression.

"These soldiers fought for the people, for the kingdom, and even for the world."

"..."

"Is it so difficult to reward those who risked their lives?"

"..."

"Without them, we wouldn't have survived this war. They fought at the forefront. Honestly, they deserve far more. Aren't they our comrades who stood by us in battle?"

The commanders couldn't say a word, only listening in silence with heavy expressions.

This wasn't the mindset of a noble. Treating those who fought alongside you as comrades was a mercenary's way of thinking.

Only then did the commanders recall one of Ghislain's many titles.

The Mercenary King.

His way of thinking was fundamentally different from theirs.

Still, they couldn't ignore his demands. His power was overwhelmingly superior.

And, perhaps, their perspectives had begun to shift.

After all, they, too, had fought on the front lines with their soldiers. At this point, they felt closer to their men than to the nobles back home.

'He's not wrong.'

'But this will end in bloodshed.'

'There's no other choice.'

Fighting against the nobles who remained in the kingdom was something they wanted to avoid. Even now, they faced constant resistance and pressure.

This situation was different from when they brought the mages back. Now, they would be openly battling the kingdom's own nobility.

But what choice did they have? The power was in their hands, and this was something that could only be done now.

Ghislain delivered his final verdict like a hammer blow.

"It is also a noble's duty to provide rightful compensation. This is our responsibility."

"I understand."

Marquis Alpheren nodded in agreement, prompting the other commanders to follow suit.

Only Marquis Gideon hesitated, turning to Julien for confirmation.

"Do you think this is acceptable?"

Julien, already scorned by his father, the king, would likely face even harsher ostracism from both the king and the nobles if this went forward.

But Julien, as always, responded with a dispassionate expression.

"We're not confiscating personal property. We're demanding fair compensation for the protection they received. Calculate it precisely and take only what is owed."

With that, Julien closed his eyes, signaling that he had no interest in the outcome.

Marquis Gideon let out a deep sigh.

"His Majesty is going to throw another fit."

To the nobility, soldiers were expendable. As long as they were paid their promised wages, what happened afterward—whether they starved or died in battle—wasn't the nobles' concern.

But now they were being asked to provide compensation equivalent to the soldiers' sacrifices. This unprecedented decision was bound to provoke widespread backlash.

Still, Ghislain had made the decision, and Julien had approved it. Opposition was futile.

"If it gets too difficult, we might have to use the newly acquired lands as a bargaining chip."

Those lands, along with other war spoils, were meant to be distributed to the crown, nobles, and merchants who had supported the war effort. It was a potential avenue for negotiation, though force might still be necessary.

The meeting ended, and the commanders began preparing for the withdrawal of their troops. Their remaining forces were needed to hunt down the remnants of the enemy.

As always, things went Ghislain's way. He felt no guilt about extracting wealth; he was going to contribute the most himself anyway.

"If you've fought with your life on the line, you deserve to be compensated accordingly."

This way of thinking, shaped by his long years as a mercenary, frequently clashed with that of other nobles.

But Ghislain never thought he was wrong. It was a truth he had learned firsthand on the battlefield.

While the soldiers prepared to withdraw, Ghislain and the other key figures convened for an important meeting.

The topic was straightforward: "How to kill a dragon."

"So, when the mages seal the dragon's magic, Julien and I will…"

"Watch out for the breath attack. It'll definitely target the mages first…"

"Parniel will fight alongside us, while the priests stay hidden behind the mages…"

The discussion largely revolved around Ghislain proposing strategies and others refining them with their input. Drawing on his past life's experience fighting dragons, Ghislain led the planning.

In his previous life, they had barely defeated the dragon at great cost due to a lack of information.

This time was different. Using his past experiences, Ghislain carefully crafted and reviewed the strategy.

Piote, who had been listening quietly, suddenly widened his eyes in realization.

"Wait a second…"

He had the feeling that they were all overlooking something important. Hesitantly, Piote raised his hand.

"Um… excuse me…"

"So, I'll use my twin swords to slice through both wings at once…"

"If the mages are clustered together, they'll suffer heavy damage. We need to spread out their magic fields…"

"We should also cast disorientation magic to confuse the dragon…"

Everyone ignored Piote, too engrossed in their discussion to hear him.

"Excuse me…"

Piote timidly tried again, but no one paid attention.

In battle meetings, Piote was usually sidelined. He mostly followed orders without much input, as he had little expertise in strategy or tactics and no strong interest in combat.

But this time, he seemed desperate, his expression pleading for someone to hear him out.

"Excuse me…"

"So, the dragon's attack pattern will probably…"

"Excuse me!"

"Huh?"

Everyone turned to Piote in surprise. It was rare for him to raise his voice.

Ghislain blinked and asked, "What's wrong? Do you have a good plan?"

Before Piote could respond, Alfoy interjected.

"Piote, just focus on taking hits in the front lines. And when you get a chance, deliver a Goddess Punch!"

"I-I understand. But before that, I have something to say…"

Ghislain nodded.

"Go ahead. If you have a good idea, let's hear it."

"Well… everything sounds great, but… why are we only planning to fight? Can't we at least try talking to the dragon first?"

"What are you talking about? The dragon's coming to attack humans."

"No, I mean… what if we explain the situation and try to talk before fighting?"

Thud.

Ghislain placed his sword on the table.

"This is my friend, 'Dialogue.' It works exceptionally well with dragons. It doesn't discriminate against species."

"That's a sword! I mean real dialogue!"

"Hm."

Ghislain folded his arms and stared at Piote. The others followed suit, equally perplexed by what he was suggesting.

With all eyes on him, Piote's face turned red, but he mustered the courage to speak.

"Ereneth said dragons seek out adversaries to fight, right?"

"That's true."

"And we're also dealing with the remnants of the Salvation Order, planning to confront this so-called adversary, aren't we?"

"Probably, yes."

"Then doesn't that mean the dragon's enemy and our enemy are the same?"

"Huh?"

Ghislain tilted his head. The others did the same, equally confused.

Piote shouted, "I'm saying, even if we have to fight in the end, shouldn't we at least try to talk and explain the situation first? Why do all of you insist on solving everything with violence? Why don't you know how to have a conversation?"

The room fell silent, everyone staring at Piote with shock. It was clear that none of them had ever considered such an idea before.

Seeing their expressions, Piote was certain of one thing.

These people only think about fighting.