A Mercenary’s Rebirth Among Nobles

Faced with the messenger’s firmness, Marquis Bernhardt tempered his anger.

If that evidence were false, the messenger knew better than anyone that it would not end with only his death.

And yet, he asserted it without the slightest hesitation. That made the probability of it being true quite high.

Even so, the doubts only deepened.

“Is something like that really possible with a human body?”

If he had cut the castle gate with a sword, he would not have been so surprised.

The Swordmasters of history had accomplished feats of that caliber.

But tearing off a castle gate with bare hands?

That was impossible, unless it were a hybrid of a legendary giant or a descendant of a dragon.

“I can’t believe it either. Even now I doubt whether what I saw wasn’t an illusion. But what happened before my eyes—how could I deny it?”

“Ha…”

An incredulous laugh escaped the marquis.

Just who in the world was that brat from the north?

He knew the boy possessed a certain degree of strength, but he had always considered him an intriguer, someone of the same type as himself.

And yet, when faced with a situation that could not be resolved with the mind, he solved it by force, in the most brutal way possible.

At this point, he could no longer even be sure of that man’s true nature.

“Fine… very well. For now, I’ll believe it.”

After sighing, the marquis lowered his gaze and continued reading the letter.

Unfortunately, there was not a single line in it that could be considered good news.

With each sentence he read, his expression grew more rigid.

— The duke’s strength was far beyond anything I could measure. While tearing off the castle gate, he did not even seem to be exerting himself, and his steps were as light as those of someone taking a walk. If he had wished, he could have blown the gate apart with a single punch.

It was absolute nonsense.

Even to force open an ordinary castle gate, a battering ram was required, and now a single punch was supposedly enough?

Did that mean that man’s fist was more powerful than a siege ram?

— And it was not only the duke who possessed such power. Though of a different nature, the Swordmaster accompanying him was also someone whose limits were impossible to calculate. Even if the duke had not had that strength, the gate would have been cut without difficulty by the Swordmaster.

Upon reading the word Swordmaster, the marquis’s body trembled.

Since Eisen Brightner, there had been only one person called that.

The first female Swordmaster, Felicia.

— The magical power that Felicia Brightner materialized would not only have destroyed the gate, but also the walls on both sides. All it would have taken was a slight further movement of her wrist.

“Brightner?!”

The marquis exploded with rage upon seeing that surname.

How dare they call Felicia Brightner?

She was his daughter; she should bear the Roglan surname.

Even if she rejected that surname, blood could not be hidden.

That was something he himself had repeated countless times to his vassals, so Emil should have known his true feelings well.

And yet, he had deliberately written Brightner in the letter.

Without a doubt, it was a warning directed at him.

— Marquis, whatever the reason may be, the failure to complete the mission is entirely my responsibility. I am aware that, because of me, Your Excellency will face great difficulties, and I will accept any punishment. However, before that, allow me to say one thing. Do not attack Lucian. Do not provoke Felicia. And do not prepare any more traps.

— The duke and the Swordmaster are existences capable of changing the course of a battle on their own. They may be swept along by the flow of the era, but if you attempt to bring them down relying on petty traps, the backlash will be impossible to bear. I beg you to let them pass in silence and face them as the ruler of an equivalent force…

The moment he finished reading the last line, the marquis crumpled the letter violently.

The sense of defeat permeating every word already irritated him, and on top of that they were telling him to do nothing more and let them go.

Endure all that humiliation without gaining anything in return?

“…I remember when the knight Emil came to me to enter my service. He was an imposing knight. His voice overflowed with confidence, and his abilities matched that confidence.”

“M-my lord…”

“But in this letter there is no trace of that imposing knight. There is only a miserable dog, cowering, whining with its tail between its legs.”

“…”

The marquis spat those words coldly at the messenger, who turned pale with terror.

“Go and tell Knight Emil that I appreciate the advice, but that the advice of a coward is worse than having none at all.”

“Yes, sir!”

The messenger fled almost at a run down the corridor before the marquis’s anger could explode again.

After burning that repugnant letter, Bernhardt raised his voice toward the knights lined up outside.

“The guests of the banquet will arrive soon! Prepare to go out and receive them!”

***

The five thousand soldiers that Lucian had brought were in a state of physical exhaustion close to the limit.

For dozens of days they had advanced with minimal rest, solely to take Marquis Bernhardt by surprise.

Had they not been elite troops, trained their entire lives, they would have collapsed long before under such a marching pace.

At this point, there was nothing left of imposing bearing or fanfare; anyone, no matter who they were, desperately needed rest.

However, unlike their physical fatigue, the soldiers’ morale seemed to pierce the heavens.

“Long live the king!”

“King of the North! Descendant of the dragon!”

“Wait a moment. Isn’t the dragon’s descendant supposed to be the imperial family?”

“The ducal house Valdeck also has imperial blood!”

“Come to think of it, you’re right!”

Though staggering, the soldiers did not stop laughing, chatting, and praising Lucian.

That the lord one serves be extraordinary is the wish of any commoner.

And Lucian had not only surpassed the ordinary, but had displayed before their very eyes an almost monstrous strength.

How could their hearts not race?

Moreover, possessing such power meant that, barring exceptional cases, defeat was practically impossible.

For the soldiers, the mere existence of Lucian, together with Felicia, was little less than a promissory note guaranteeing victory.

“I still feel like I’m dreaming.”

“Don’t worry, it’s the same for me. What we saw yesterday still doesn’t feel real.”

“Let me ask you something. Is it really possible for a human to reinforce their body to that extent?”

“If they had an inexhaustible spring of mana and a path capable of bearing it, perhaps.”

“It’s precisely because that assumption is impossible that I’m asking.”

Unlike the soldiers who cheered without thinking, the conversations among the knights were far more serious.

From the perspective of someone trained in swordsmanship, the strength Lucian had displayed was completely beyond common sense.

He had strengthened his body beyond what a human could endure, using an amount of mana impossible to contain within a human body.

If the knights present tried to do the same, they would not even withstand half of that burden before their bodies burst.

For them, it was incomprehensible how Lucian had resolved all of those problems.

“Does the origin of His Majesty’s power strike you as suspicious?”

“Lady F-Felicia!”

The knights who had been murmuring among themselves jolted at the sound of Felicia’s voice.

Of all people, it was her who had heard the conversation.

“If you have any conjectures, say them. I’m interested in knowing how far your assumptions went.”

“W-we’re sorry! As knights, we said something improper!”

“We will never mention this topic again, please forgive us!”

The knights bowed their heads, sweating cold.

To say that Lucian had done something “impossible for a human” left no room for a favorable interpretation.

That was usually immediately associated with dark magic or supernatural entities such as demons.

Even if it stemmed from sincere doubt, for a knight to harbor such thoughts about his sovereign was an enormous act of disrespect.

However, to everyone’s surprise, Felicia spoke calmly, without a trace of anger.

“I’m not reprimanding you. I just want to know what you were thinking. Do you truly have no idea?”

Not receiving the expected scolding, one of the knights spoke cautiously.

“Could it be that the imperial blood has manifested strongly in His Majesty? If the dragon’s blood has awakened, that power would make sense.”

“Close, but that’s not it.”

“Close?”

“Our lord ate a dragon’s heart.”

The knights looked at Felicia with stunned expressions.

It was not that he had inherited the dragon’s blood, but that he had devoured its heart.

“H-he hunted a dragon?”

“The details—ask the Sons of the Tundra when we return.”

Felicia left those meaning-laden words behind and turned away.

As expected, the moment she moved a little farther off, a deafening murmur erupted among the knights.

Lucian, seeing Felicia walk away pretending not to hear anything, let out a small laugh.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Not explaining it in detail.”

Felicia nodded slightly.

“I don’t know much about politics, but I do know this even saying the same thing, the listener’s reaction changes completely depending on who says it.”

“So you preferred to leave it in the hands of those who came from the tundra?”

“They saw with their own eyes how His Majesty obtained and exercised that power, and they hold genuine reverence for him. To spread a legend, people like that are more suitable than me explaining theories precisely.”

“You’re clever.”

“Compared to Your Majesty, I still have a long way to go.”

“That’s also true.”

Lucian exchanged a few light laughs with Felicia, but soon erased his smile and spoke in a grave voice.

“Felicia.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

“You don’t have to hold back.”

At those meaning-laden words, Felicia shuddered.

She fell silent, not knowing how to respond, and Lucian spoke again.

“Bernhardt can no longer do anything to us. Even if this west is his backyard, once we’ve reached its heart, it doesn’t matter. At best it would be mutual destruction, and at worst, the Roglan house alone would be annihilated. He knows that too.”

In other words, as long as they did not cross a certain line, they could do as they pleased.

As long as they did not unleash an open massacre, even Felicia taking revenge on her old enemy would be something they would have to let pass.

And thinking that there would soon be a faction-against-faction war, this would be the last chance for personal revenge.

“But…”

Felicia tried to object.

Even so, excessive provocation was dangerous.

If a real war broke out, the other lords would not stand idly by.

It could end in genuine mutual destruction.

A thousand worries crossed her mind.

However, then Lucian’s voice sounded far too gentle.

“Felicia. Don’t you want revenge?”

“…”

Felicia clenched her fist without realizing it.

How could she not want it?

Within the Roglan house, there was no one who was unaware of her talent.

And yet, that talent had been mercilessly crushed before it could even bloom.

They snatched away her training sword and put a broom in her hands, mocking her again and again that this was what suited her.

Even now, just remembering it filled her chest with hatred and a thirst to kill.

“Don’t think about political problems or whether you’ll cause me trouble. Tell me what you truly desire.”

“I…”

“Don’t you want revenge?”

At the second question, Felicia closed her eyes tightly.

She could no longer deceive herself.

The resentment accumulated throughout her life reacted to Lucian’s voice and burst forth without her being able to restrain it.

“I want revenge…”

Even knowing that it could cause Lucian trouble.

Even knowing that her selfishness could unleash a war.

Even so, she wanted revenge.

Lucian smiled broadly upon hearing her answer.

“Let’s go. To take revenge.”