Chapter 174: Race Against Time(1)
Clang!
The iron bar placed on the stage split in half and fell to the floor with a resounding thud.
“Wow!”
“He did it! Gordon actually cut through the iron bar!”
Cheers erupted in the demonstration hall as the onlookers marveled at the results.
Though the cut was rough and jagged, as if he had forced it through with a saw, there was no denying the truth: Gordon had sliced through iron.
Claude stood there, mouth agape, utterly stunned.
‘Did he really just cut through an iron bar with a sword? And in such a short time, he’s already able to use mana?’
To ensure no foul play, Claude himself had provided the weapon, worried that Gordon might try to rely on the weight of a heavy blade to accomplish the feat. Yet, using the ordinary longsword he had prepared, Gordon managed to cut clean through the thick iron bar.
This was undeniable proof that he had indeed used mana.
A spark of new hope flared in Claude’s mind.
Though he had opposed this campaign to prioritize safety, the situation had changed entirely.
‘Even at the level of a novice knight, if there are hundreds of them, it would be an incredible force!’
The knights Ghislain trained this time numbered a staggering four hundred.
Aside from the Delfine Duchy, no territory boasted such a large number of knights.
Though their individual quality might be inferior to those elsewhere, their sheer numbers were unmatched.
‘I need to devise a new strategy. With this many knights, it’s possible!’
Just as Claude raised his flushed face, brimming with excitement, intending to say something to Ghislain—
“Uuurgh!”
Gordon collapsed, coughing up blood.
Foaming at the mouth, his body convulsed as servants rushed over to carry him off on a stretcher.
“.......”
The jubilant atmosphere chilled instantly. The cheering vassals fell silent, and Claude felt his enthusiasm freeze over.
Breaking the awkward silence, Ghislain’s voice rang out.
“What? What’s the problem? Never seen someone cough up blood and collapse before?”
“.......”
Everyone was at a loss for words, stealing glances at one another. There were so many issues to address that no one knew where to start.
The vassals looked toward Claude. Dealing with sophists was best left to another sophist, and Claude was their man.
After organizing his thoughts like a true expert, Claude opened his mouth.
“That’s no knight. It’s a fraud—outright fraud! No, 100% fraud!”
“Fraud? What’s fraudulent about it?”
“How are we supposed to wage war like this? The man swings his sword once and collapses!”
“But he used mana, didn’t he? We agreed that if he could use mana, he’d go to war. There were no other conditions, were there?”
Ghislain’s shameless reply left Claude at a loss for words.
She wasn’t wrong. The wager had been about using mana, not using mana and remaining standing afterward.
Still, the frustration of being swindled refused to leave Claude.
He stomped his feet in vexation, then turned to Wendy, standing nearby.
“Hey, say something! Is this normal? Huh? Is this normal?!”
“...Why are you asking me all of a sudden?”
Wendy, typically calm and expressionless, was taken aback by Claude’s desperate attempt to drag her into the mess and stepped back.
She understood the dire situation, but why was she being pulled into it?
But Claude was desperate.
“Come on, just say something! Honestly, you could take out all of those guys by yourself, couldn’t you? Right? Be honest!”
“How could I possibly say something like that...?”
“Do you think war is a joke? At this rate, they’ll all end up being dragged into battle and killed! Come on, say something! Even if they’re this useless, they still deserve a chance to live!”
There was no flaw in Claude’s reasoning. No matter how one looked at it, the knights didn’t seem capable of fighting properly.
Eventually, Wendy sighed and muttered quietly.
“I think... I could beat them all by myself.”
“Why are you doing this! With what we’ve already accumulated, the Fenris and Ferdium territories could eat for over ten years! The food will rot before we can consume it!”
Ghislain’s obsession with hoarding food bordered on bizarre.
Even when the retainers suggested selling the surplus to raise funds, he was immovable.
Selling off a fraction of the stockpile could bring in a fortune, but Ghislain stubbornly sourced funds elsewhere to continue his relentless food acquisition.
The retainers couldn’t fathom his reasoning.
“Did he really get possessed by some ghost that starved to death?”
Seeing Claude’s frustration, Ghislain replied nonchalantly.
“I have a plan. But you wouldn’t believe me even if I explained, would you?”
“Well... no, probably not.”
“Exactly. So just keep buying. Until I say stop, buy it all. No exceptions.”
“Sigh, fine.”
Claude gave up on arguing. At this point, he just went with the flow.
Do whatever you want.
In the worst-case scenario, Claude figured he could personally oversee the defense. While he couldn’t manage an offensive campaign, Ferdium could at least provide enough forces to hold a defensive line.
He had even mapped out escape routes, just in case the Lord perished in war and Ferdium fell.
With Claude—their last hope—failing to persuade Ghislain, the retainers sighed in defeat, their faces painted with despair.
Seeing them like this, Ghislain smiled brightly.
“Good, everyone’s doing wonderfully.”
An outsider might think Ghislain was imposing impossible tasks, pushing his people beyond their limits.
But despite their constant grumbling, objections, and complaints, the retainers, mages, dwarves, serfs, knights, and soldiers all followed through on their orders.
Though everything appeared chaotic on the surface, the underlying progress was remarkable.
It was proof of their exceptional abilities.
Thanks to them, plans that would have been unattainable by Ghislain alone were steadily taking shape.
“I’m grateful. But we need to work just a little harder.”
The timing Ghislain was waiting for was fast approaching.
By then, all preparations had to be complete.
* * *
While the knights were resting to recover their strength, everyone else remained busy.
From developing the territory to gathering war supplies, everyone worked tirelessly.
In the midst of this ceaseless activity, some welcome news arrived.
“Lord! Lord! We did it! We finally succeeded!”
Galbarik and a group of dwarves came running to Ghislain, tears streaming down their faces.
Startled by their sudden appearance, Ghislain blinked and asked, “Who... are you?”
“It’s me! Galbarik! You’ve worked us to the bone, and now you don’t even recognize us?”
The figure at the front shouted angrily.
Perhaps it was due to their grueling workload, but Galbarik and the dwarves had changed so much that it was hard to recognize them.
Skinny, sunken-eyed, and short-statured, they looked like goblins with beards.
Ghislain chuckled awkwardly, scratching his head.
“Ahaha, so it’s you, Galbarik. Sorry, you’ve aged so much in just a few days that I didn’t recognize you! I thought dwarves were supposed to have long lifespans—is that a myth?”
As Ghislain feigned ignorance, Galbarik ground his teeth, his beard trembling with rage.
“Damn it! We’ve been working non-stop without any sleep! Of course, we’d end up like this! At this rate, we’re all going to die!”
Though he had been grinding his teeth daily to avoid being sent to the assault squad, he was seriously considering running away.
In fact, some dwarves had already tried to escape, but ironically, the most relentless pursuer had been Alfoi.
Apparently, he couldn’t stand seeing other slaves escaping while he stayed behind.
“Especially that bastard Alfoi! He’s not even human! He’s the worst scumbag of them all! Acting like the Lord’s lapdog!”
Ghislain ignored Galbarik’s rant and asked casually.
“So, what is it that you succeeded in?”
At that, Galbarik’s anger disappeared as quickly as it had come, replaced by a beaming smile.
“We’ve finally completed that hot air balloon of yours!”