A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles

After notifying Lucian of his visit, Tristan immediately set out for the north at the head of five hundred soldiers.

The feudal lords showed their displeasure when they saw Tristan passing through the vicinity of their territories with an army, and it did not take long for them to lodge formal complaints.

However, Tristan was not the least bit shaken by the protests.

“I’m only passing along the road. I haven’t even set foot in the villages you govern. Why are you reacting so exaggeratedly? If you are vassals of the Empire, show a magnanimity befitting your position.”

Faced with such a brazen response, the lords were filled with anger, but even so they did not attack Tristan.

After all, they had suffered no real damage. Mobilizing troops based solely on a sense of threat lacked sufficient justification.

Moreover, it was well known that Tristan, expelled from his house by Jordi, was cornered and full of resentment.

Provoking someone pushed to the limit merely out of displeasure could trigger unpredictable retaliation.

Thanks to these concerns, Tristan managed to advance toward the north without anyone daring to stop him.

“It’s ridiculous. In times of peace, these people would attack me without hesitation. But now, in a chaotic era full of enemies on all sides, they don’t even dare touch me. Is this the contradiction of the age?”

“Be that as it may, for us it’s fortunate, but is it really fine to act with such brazenness?”

The one who spoke with a worried expression was Diego, a knight who had served as his lieutenant for many years and Tristan’s childhood friend.

“For now we are safe, but after this the neighboring lords will harbor resentment toward you. This conduct could bring serious consequences in the future.”

“I know. But we have no other option.”

“I understand that, having nowhere to station the troops, we must bring them with us. I was just thinking that perhaps we could show a bit more consideration…”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then…?”

“Tell me the truth, Diego. How do you think others see me right now?”

At Tristan’s question, Diego closed his mouth.

Telling the truth plainly could be humiliating.

But that silence itself was the clearest answer to Tristan’s situation.

“I’ve fallen into disgrace. All I have left is a minimal chance to recover. And right now, I’m nothing more than a sewer rat begging for patronage while flaunting that small hope before anyone willing to look.”

“My lord!”

“I’m not lamenting. Nor have I lost confidence. I’m simply expressing how others see me. Tell me, who, seeing me like this, would consider me the true heir of Valdeck?”

He had no territory where he could rest his body.

His only forces were five hundred elite soldiers, supported by his maternal family.

And even so, without stable income, he could barely maintain them by selling belongings one after another.

It was a situation so unstable that a slight push would be enough for everything to collapse.

“That’s precisely why I must be brazen. Being brazen even in the midst of desperation is a form of composure, of confidence… and also a sign of potential.”

“…!”

“Tell me, Diego. Would you find extraordinary someone who crawls about with a miserable attitude? Or someone absurdly brazen?”

Diego’s face flushed with shame.

He had believed that Tristan’s brazenness was nothing more than the pride left over from his days as the firstborn of Valdeck.

But in reality, it was a way of showing the world that he was not finished yet, that he still had possibilities.

“Forgive this fool for not having understood your intention!”

“Leave it. Most will see me as a rude scoundrel anyway. Only a few will be able to see something extraordinary in me.”

But if he were lucky, among those few might appear someone willing to become his patron.

That was exactly what Tristan was seeking that patron who might, someday, appear.

Winning the favor of mediocrities was worth nothing compared to obtaining the backing of a single suitable person.

‘Though it’s possible that that third brother has already seen through all of this…’

Tristan felt a bitter taste of defeat rise from his stomach and pressed his lips together.

He hadn’t even met him yet, and already felt as though he were losing momentum.

This was no time to falter.

Even if it were feigned confidence, he had to force it and keep moving forward.

‘I don’t have to cling only to the third. Even in the north there will be ambitious people. With a bit of luck, I might also find another patron.’

Either way, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

If he let it slip away, he would probably not set foot in the north again for decades.

With the determination to find a patron, Tristan’s eyes shone with intensity.

To reclaim the place that rightfully belonged to him.

And to expel the traitor who was sullying his family.

***

“I’d heard that the people of the north were rough, so I was a little worried, but it seems everyone is rather calm. An army passes near their territories and they don’t even protest once…”

It had already been fifteen days since Tristan entered the north.

Diego spoke to him with, for the first time in a long while, a relaxed expression. The journey had been so peaceful that the accumulated tension had finally dissipated.

“Besides, the climate is warmer than I expected. With this, there’s no need to spend a fortune on cold-weather equipment.”

“…That’s not a good sign.”

However, Tristan muttered with a hardened expression, as if that tranquility unsettled him.

Diego tilted his head, not understanding his lord’s concern.

“Not a good sign? Compared to other regions where there’s always tension, this seems much better.”

“No lord, unless he’s an idiot, would let an army pass without feeling threatened. And the fact that there hasn’t been any reaction at all means only one thing.”

“One thing…?”

“That someone is restraining all the lords of the north.”

There was only one person with enough power to pressure all the lords of the region.

Lucian Grimaldi Valdeck.

The undisputed sovereign of the north.

Tristan felt the gap between them become overwhelming.

‘I don’t know whether they follow him out of fear or because they truly admire him, but for me, this is the worst possible scenario.’

He had thought that even if Lucian rejected him, he could still find another ambitious lord willing to support him.

But now, the entire north trembled at a single word from Lucian.

In that case, even if someone saw potential in Tristan, they would give up out of fear of Lucian.

‘Fine. If that’s how it is, then it’s better to receive Lucian’s support directly.’

If there were no other paths, all that remained was to carve one open with all his strength.

Tristan suppressed any weakness and continued forward.

But a few days later, upon arriving at Asagrim, the determination he had managed to gather shattered to pieces.

“The… the white wall?”

Upon seeing a wall identical to that of Tibron, Tristan exclaimed in genuine astonishment.

He had believed that such a perfect wall existed only in the imperial capital. How could there be something like this in a corner of the north?

As Tristan stood frozen, unable to speak, a voice arose at his side.

“It’s been a long time, First Young Master.”

“…!”

Everyone, Tristan included, flinched and turned their heads.

Recognizing the familiar face on a snow-covered hill, Tristan asked without thinking.

“Lady Felicia… since when have you been here?”

“I was observing from the wall. As soon as I confirmed your arrival, I came immediately.”

“You came running? But the distance from the wall to here is—”

“It seems you never saw my father run in his lifetime.”

Tristan’s eyes trembled at the implication of those words.

If it was someone worthy of the title of Swordmaster, that was not impossible.

And at the same time, it meant that she herself had reached that level.

Eisen had only obtained the title of Swordmaster upon reaching middle age.

To speak of a comparable level at such a young age—was it arrogance or confidence?

The people around looked at Felicia with stunned expressions.

However, she continued speaking without batting an eye.

“His Excellency is waiting. Please follow me.”

***

From the moment he arrived in Asagrim, everything was a constant succession of shocks for Tristan.

Streets so crowded that it was difficult to find even a single vacant house.

Northern inhabitants with bodies even larger than those of robust adult men.

Commercial districts and artisan streets as active as those of a major city.

Even compared to Kelheim, the heart of the Valdeck lineage, it did not seem inferior at all.

‘Was this place really abandoned for almost a thousand years? And to think the emperor granted it to Lucian only a few years ago… how is this possible?’

Tristan swallowed hard at the speed of development that defied all common sense.

He knew Lucian was capable, but this was excessive.

No matter how much imperial support one received, the development of a territory took time.

“We’ve arrived at the audience hall. Please, go ahead.”

Felicia’s voice pulled Tristan out of his thoughts.

When he looked up, he saw that a massive door had already opened silently.

Lucian appeared between the doors and, upon seeing Tristan, smiled.

“It’s been a long time, brother. Have you been in good health?”

Tristan inhaled deeply before responding.

“Yes, I’ve been well. You, Third, have become much more imposing than before. If Father could see you now, he would be proud.”

“…!”

Such familiar address made the vassals frown in displeasure.

Unlike Tristan, who held no title, Lucian was a duke and a border marquis.

For a half-brother to address him that way was a great discourtesy.

However, Lucian let out a laugh and descended from the throne.

“You haven’t changed, brother. Come, get closer. Let’s embrace as brothers after such a long time.”

Embrace? When had they ever embraced?

Tristan smiled bitterly inwardly, but stepped forward in silence.

Since Lucian had set the tone, Tristan had no choice but to play along.

But he managed to take only a few steps before stopping dead in his tracks.

‘…What is this?’

A strange weight fell upon his body.

He tried to lift his foot, but it was as if a rock were pinning him to the ground.

“Hngh!”

Thud!

Tristan tore his foot free with all his strength to shake off the unknown pressure.

But the foot barely moved before slamming back into the ground.

“What the hell… ngh!”

The pressure suddenly increased, causing Tristan to stagger.

At first it was merely difficult to move, but now even standing he felt as if his bones were creaking.

Realizing the danger, he activated his mana reinforcement, but the pressure increased in the same proportion.

‘Damn it… if this continues, my organs are going to burst…’

Unable even to speak, Tristan endured the pressure on his feet when a voice, tinged with laughter, reached his ears.

“Brother, why did you suddenly stop? Come on, get closer. You have to embrace this younger brother.”

Tristan’s ear, drenched in cold sweat, caught a voice filled with laughter.