The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 171: Sufficient Validation (1)

The dwarves cried out in alarm simultaneously.

“Lord! One month is far too short!”

“Ah, come on. Why are you acting like this? Aren’t you the dwarves hailed as the best craftsmen? Didn’t you say you’d do anything I wanted? It’s a bit troublesome if you’re going to go back on your word now.”

“Ugh…”

The dwarves wore expressions of genuine distress.

Typically, humans would make demands that stayed within what they considered reasonable bounds. The dwarves, confident in their skills, had made bold promises, assuming they could easily meet such expectations.

In truth, they admitted that they had gotten carried away and boasted a bit too much. But they hadn’t expected someone to latch onto their words so literally.

‘I mean, normally, if you ask nicely, nobles would show some modesty and accept less, right? Especially nobles!’

This was the first time they’d encountered someone who shamelessly took everything as promised.

Now, they’d have to work like mad, cutting into their time for eating, sleeping, and even resting.

‘Damn it, I should’ve kept quiet. Why did I have to open my mouth?’

The dwarves looked dejected. Regardless, they had already made a promise, and judging by the look on the lord’s face, it was clear he wasn’t going to accept any excuses.

Even so, since they’d never worked under such extreme conditions, Galbaric decided to complain a little and test the waters with Giselle.

“Lord, this is too much work. If we try to finish everything within a month, we’ll all die from overwork.”

“You’ll die anyway if you don’t.”

“What? What do you mean? Are you planning to kill us?”

Legally, they were slaves, so even if they were killed for disobedience, they wouldn’t have much to argue against.

Giselle shook his head and replied, “We’ve been marked by Desmond, the Count of the North. A war is going to break out soon. If the work I ordered isn’t finished in a month, we’re all dead.”

“…”

“To be honest, you’ve been living comfortably under noble patrons all this time, haven’t you? With that lazy mindset, you won’t survive in the harsh Northern lands.”

However, the mention of Count Desmond’s name didn’t faze the dwarves much.

‘Even if a war breaks out, we probably won’t be in danger…’

The dwarves didn’t fear wars between humans. Lords wouldn’t kill the expensive and skilled dwarves. Unless they directly picked up weapons and joined the fray, they’d typically end up as war spoils and put to work by whoever captured them.

But Giselle wasn’t ignorant of this fact.

“If the preparations aren’t done within a month, even the dwarves will be sent to the frontlines as a vanguard in the war.”

‘Wow, is this guy seriously insane?’

The dwarves sighed deeply and glared at Giselle.

‘Do you have any idea how much we’re worth? No lord would be reckless enough to send us to war. This has to be an empty threat.’

Despite the suspicious gazes of the dwarves, Ghislain grinned widely.

“You’ve just arrived, so you don’t know much about me yet, do you? I’ll give you some free time today. Once you figure out what kind of person I am, you’ll know what you need to do. I’d like to handle things amicably, but people don’t seem to trust my words.”

With that, Ghislain left the room.

The dwarves watched his retreating figure in confusion before bursting into laughter one by one.

‘Did he really think that kind of threat would work on us?’

Having dealt with all sorts of nobles, the dwarves weren’t intimidated at all.

“Hm, hm. Even so, since we’re not yet familiar with the atmosphere here or the details of the estate, let’s take a look around,” Galbarik suggested.

Agreeing, the dwarves began exploring the estate and asking about the lord.

The townspeople willingly shared what they knew.

“Oh, the lord? Once he decides on something, he charges forward without looking back.”

“He secretly gathered troops behind his father’s back and went into the Forest of Beasts. They say he even left the battlefield on his own to crush the enemy. A few days ago, he looted the forest in his father’s estate too.”

“Right, right. And even when Count Digald and his retainers surrendered, he just killed them all.”

“You know the Marquis of Branford, right? He even risked his life to gamble with him.”

The more the dwarves listened to the stories from the locals, the more they realized something was off.

Every tale they heard was abnormal. No sane person would behave that way.

Sure, the results were good, so the locals praised him, but if one examined the process, it was downright unsettling.

Finally, they witnessed the mages working at the construction site, which left them deeply shocked.

‘What kind of mages… look so shabby?’

Their disheveled appearances made it impossible to tell whether they were mages or laborers.

Alfoi, dressed in a tattered robe, leaned on one leg and scanned the dwarves up and down.

“A whole month for the project, huh? That’s plenty of time. Why’d the lord give you so much time?”

“…Did you just say that’s plenty of time?”

“Yeah, why? We made a hundred mana concentration arrays in two days. And you can’t finish this in a month? Pfft, dwarves aren’t much after all.”

“Hold on, does that even make sense?”

“Why wouldn’t it? We also made hundreds of runestones for the fields in just one week!”

As Alfoi boasted proudly, the mages smiled smugly and nodded in agreement.

Galbarik cautiously asked, “Are you all really mages?”

In response, Alfoi straightened his posture, raised one hand, and conjured a ball of fire.

“I am the heir to the Tower Master of the Crimson Flame Tower, the most renowned magic tower in the North. People also call me the Flaming Man who knows no surrender—Alfoi.”

The dwarves stared intently at the fireball Alfoi conjured. They had never heard of such a title, but it was clear that he was indeed a real mage.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Galbarik asked, “Why would someone like the heir of a magic tower be living here like this?”

Alfoi suddenly slumped his shoulders and explained the circumstances that had tied him to the Fenris Estate.

He described how he had been forcibly brought here without knowing what he would be tasked with, and now, as a slave, he couldn’t even attempt to escape. This revelation shocked the dwarves once again.

An estate where even the Tower Master’s heir and mages couldn’t escape and were forced to toil endlessly?

The dwarves had no choice but to accept the unsettling truth they had been hesitant to acknowledge.

‘Ah, the lord really is insane. He’s only able to pull off such ridiculous things because he’s completely unhinged.’

Alfoi placed a hand on Galbarik’s shoulder and spoke earnestly.

“You mentioned you’ll be working on the construction too, right? Let’s do our best together. If nothing else, this place gives you a lot of food. You’ll get to eat until you’re full.”

It was a remark that perfectly fit someone who had fully adapted to life on the estate.

Exhausted from their grueling labor, Alfoi and the mages had reached a point where simply being fed well was enough to satisfy them.

Seeing the strange, almost manic gleam in the mages’ eyes, the dwarves instinctively took a step back, their expressions uneasy.

‘We have to escape. If we stay here, we won’t survive. We must escape no matter what.’

As if reading their thoughts, Alfoi spoke seriously.

“Don’t even think about running away. You’ll just get caught anyway. The lord’s specialties are pursuit, ambushes, and annihilation. Even a mage like me couldn’t escape, so do you think you could? Just stay here and let’s stick it out together for a long time.”

Every word Alfoi said carried a genuine sincerity. More hands meant even a little more breathing room for him, so his plea was only natural.

He tried to comfort them further.

“Sometimes we can gamble and drink together too. It’s more fun here than you’d think. If you don’t know how to gamble, I can teach you.”

“……”

An awkward silence followed.

After a long moment of contemplation, Galbarik turned to the other dwarves and reluctantly spoke.

“…Let’s start working quickly. We don’t have much time.”

If they didn’t finish the work within a month, they might be dragged into war as a strike force.

* * *

Ghislain sat in thought, reviewing the plan he had devised.

‘It’s meaningless for just this place to grow stronger if I’m going to fight the duchy.’

No matter how rapidly Fenris grew, it was impossible to immediately match the overwhelming military strength of the Ducal House, which had already amassed immense power.

That was precisely why the Royal Faction had to be drawn into the fray.

The Ferdium territory, which currently guarded the North, also needed to grow as strong as possible.

Only then could they endure the impending turmoil together.

‘I’ll have to help their growth as quickly as possible. While I’m at it, I should also teach Ferdium the mana cultivation technique.’

With this thought, Ghislain immediately loaded dozens of wagons with food supplies and headed to the Northern Fortress, where his father resided.

* * *

Northern Fortress, Kaipiler.

The Kingdom of Ritania’s northernmost frontline, guarded by Zwalter Ferdium, the Margrave of Ferdium.

The area surrounding the small spring near the fortress was barren, with the rest of the surroundings nothing but desolate wasteland.

For centuries, the Ferdium family had defended this forlorn stronghold against barbarian invasions.

This constant defense left Ferdium in a perpetual state of poverty.

Nevertheless, the heads of the family, who upheld honor, endured these losses and protected the fortress, turning it into a source of pride for the lineage.

Zwalter Ferdium, who safeguarded the Ferdium family’s symbol of honor, stormed out upon hearing of Ghislain’s arrival, visibly furious.

Following him was Randolph, the Knight Commander, who looked equally enraged.

The moment Zwalter laid eyes on Ghislain, he raised his voice.

“Ghislain! I’ve already heard the news! I tolerated your actions because of the merits you’ve achieved, but now you’ve crossed the line! How dare you strip the forest in my domain without permission!”

Though Homerne had slightly exaggerated the reports he sent, it was true that Ghislain had looted the forest in Ferdium’s territory.

This time, Zwalter had no intention of forgiving him.

No matter how capable Ghislain was, Zwalter could not condone any act that undermined his authority as both lord and head of the family.

Maintaining that authority was essential to leading the people and defending the North.

Zwalter’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword as if he were ready to draw it.

Ghislain, however, offered a faint smile and replied, “I apologize for that. I urgently needed the timber. In exchange, I brought some extra food supplies.”

The wagons Ghislain had brought were loaded with an extraordinary amount of provisions.

There was so much food that the entire garrison of the fortress could eat heartily every day and still have enough to last several years.

“I also sent food supplies to the estate. The people there should have enough to live without worrying about food at least until next year.”

Ghislain spoke with a relaxed smile, causing Zwalter’s eyebrows to twitch.

“Do you think you can simply brush this off with food!”

…It was too much food to criticize as “just food.”

But accepting the food and immediately flipping attitudes like turning one’s hand over wasn’t an option. Especially in a place where many eyes were watching—doing so would shred his authority to pieces.

That didn’t mean he could outright refuse the food either. The hunger was unbearable. He was sick of it.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime crisis.

But who was Zwalter? A seasoned veteran who had fought countless battles against savages.

Without hesitation, he gave Randolph a meaningful glance.

Randolph, having spent decades alongside Zwalter, understood him instantly without words.

With a bright smile, Randolph suddenly clasped Ghislain’s hand.

“Oh my, our Young Lord. How could you bring us so much food? The weather’s gotten quite chilly here, hasn’t it? Let’s head inside before you catch a cold. Ah, brother, what are you doing? It’s not like we have any use for lumber anyway, right? Eating comes first, don’t you think?”

“Hmm, should we just let it go this time?”

“Of course! Even if we sold all that lumber, we couldn’t buy this much food. Besides, you gave us a fair deal because you’re family.”

“Ahem, very well. I’ll let it go this time, but be more careful in the future. Let’s head inside for now.”

With those words, the two men nonchalantly strode into the fortress.

As Ghislain shrugged his shoulders, the knights and soldiers nearby stifled their laughter.

Unfortunately, everyone had spent so much time together that the act fooled no one.

Once Zwalter reached his office, he got straight to the point.

“All right, what brings you here? Doesn’t seem like you’re just here to bring food and apologize. Don’t tell me you’ve found a marriage prospect?”

The nagging started as soon as they sat down. Ghislain sighed deeply and replied.

“…It’s not that. I have something important to discuss.”

At those words, both Zwalter and Randolph flinched instinctively. Whenever something “important” came out of Ghislain’s mouth, it always led to major trouble.

Zwalter spoke in a serious tone.

“Whatever it is, can’t you just not say it? I really enjoy this peaceful life right now.”

His voice was filled with sincerity.

They could finally live decently, without constantly struggling. He wanted this calm life to continue without any disturbances.

He had endured too many hardships to crave anything more. A person needs to know their limits.

Ghislain cleanly ignored the heartfelt plea that revealed his father’s life-long struggles and modest hopes, and he opened his mouth.

“We need to change the family’s mana cultivation technique.”

Zwalter’s face crumpled instantly.