In Ghislain’s previous life, the Seven Strongest of the Continent rarely got along. They were all too exceptional, and with nothing to fear, it was only natural. Parniel cracked her neck from side to side, while Ereneth clenched and unclenched her fingers. The growing tension was palpable, and those nearby didn’t dare approach, unsure of what might happen. Everyone except one person. “Ah! Are you two planning to fight again? What now? What’s bothering you this time? Come on, let’s sort this out and focus on rescuing the Count!” “...” “...” Piote, who had grown more perceptive since living in the Fenris estate, hurried over and shouted. It was all thanks to Alfoy’s influence, no doubt. As Piote sprinted toward them, both women turned their heads away and walked off in opposite directions. Piote watched them leave and shook his head. “Honestly, the Lord is bad enough. Why does everyone here insist on solving everything with violence?” While he could understand them hitting Claude or Alfoy, Piote sincerely wished they wouldn’t fight each other. Clearing out the remaining Delphine forces didn’t take long. With their formation in complete disarray and no superhumans left to lead them, they couldn’t hold their ground against the Northern forces. Once word spread that Gatros had fled, the Delphine commanders shouted their surrender. “Surrender!” The call echoed across the battlefield. With their general gone, the remaining soldiers had no reason to continue fighting. Soon, the rest of the Delphine troops laid down their weapons and prostrated themselves on the ground. A resounding cheer erupted from the Northern forces. “Waaaah!” “We finally won!” “The Duke’s faction is finished!” This battle was different. The last of the Duke’s main forces had been deployed, and their defeat marked the end of the civil war. As the battle concluded, Amelia rode out on her white horse to survey the battlefield. She had successfully repelled the enemy in Ghislain’s stead. Though it was all part of their private agreement, her leadership was undeniable. “Hooray for Count Rayfold!” The soldiers cheered for Amelia. Though her sudden appearance as a commander had made them uneasy at first, her decisive victory won their admiration. The lords who had come as reinforcements also offered reluctant applause. “Hmm, I didn’t expect Count Rayfold to be this capable.” “I thought she was just after empty land.” “The Count of Fenris chose wisely to entrust her with this.” Given the minimal losses and decisive victory, it was hard to criticize her performance. Amid the cheering soldiers, Kaor was carried off, covered in blood. Kaor, suffering from severe mana exhaustion, couldn’t even stand despite being doused with potions. Vanessa had to infuse him with mana directly to prevent his condition from worsening further. “You pushed yourself too hard. You were nearly at the point of drawing on your life force. You need proper rest.” “Ugh... Vanessa, listen to me. I... I became a superhuman for a moment. It wasn’t a dream... it was real... The aura blade, I used it. I cut off the Salvation priest’s arm with it.” “Oh, did you now? That’s amazing. Now stop talking and get some rest. You might be hallucinating at this point.” “Damn it... it’s true.” Even as he was carried off, Kaor muttered to himself, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. No one believed him. Everyone assumed the priest had been weakened enough for his arm to be severed by an ordinary strike. After all, toward the end, even the knights’ blades had begun cutting through with ease. “I’m telling you, it’s true! Why won’t anyone believe me?!” Kaor wanted nothing more than to stride across the battlefield as a true superhuman, but the barrier he faced was too high. Having glimpsed what lay beyond, he felt as if he might lose his mind. As the Northern forces tended to the wounded and reorganized, Gillian approached Amelia. “I’ll go to the Count immediately.” “If Count Balzac has won, it could be dangerous. Advancing together would be safer.” “It doesn’t matter. Please allow me to take some forces.” There was no reason to refuse. Helping his lord was Gillian’s priority, and with the battle here concluded, he had fulfilled his duty. “Very well. Take as many as you need.” Gillian gathered knights, cavalry, and mounted archers who were in relatively good condition. “We’ll go as well.” Ereneth, Parniel, Vanessa, and Tenant prepared to join him. Count Fenris was a critical figure, and Count Balzac was an enemy who had to be eliminated. The Northern superhumans moved out without hesitation. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Despite their exhaustion, they marched immediately, prioritizing Ghislain’s rescue over rest. After the vanguard departed, Amelia issued new orders. “Follow them once everything is in order.” With the outcome of Ghislain and Count Balzac’s duel still unknown, the rest of the army would have to follow as well. Gillian, though anxious, pressed on with determination, riding so hard that the trailing troops began to fall behind. If they encountered Balzac’s forces in this state, they would be at a severe disadvantage. ‘Lord!’ Despite this, Gillian didn’t stop. The title of the Kingdom’s Greatest Sword weighed heavily on his mind, filling him with dread. It wasn’t until something roared above him that he finally slowed. “Gillian!” “Dark?” Dark, who had been flying to deliver urgent news, spotted Gillian and descended quickly. “Haha! What’s this? Were you coming to rescue us?” Wham! In his haste, Gillian grabbed Dark tightly and demanded answers. “What about the Lord? How is he?” “Ack! You rude bastard! Isn’t it obvious? Look at me! I’m moving around just fine! We won! I said we won!” “W-we won?” “Yes! Your lord is now the Kingdom’s Greatest Sword!” The declaration reverberated among the soldiers and knights following Gillian. They erupted in cheers. “Waaaaaaaah!” Their lord, once hailed as the North’s strongest, had claimed the title of the Kingdom’s strongest. He truly was their lord. They felt ashamed for having doubted, even briefly. Their faith in him had nearly wavered. ‘Lord!’ Gillian gazed into the distance, his expression filled with awe and gratitude. ‘I will end the poverty of this land. Not with a drop, but with rain.’ The young lord who had once declared such bold words, despite having nothing in his hands, had made it rain upon the North. Now, he had become a storm, covering even the Kingdom. Not only had he ended the cycle of poverty, but he had also elevated his people to the highest position in the Kingdom. ‘You’ve truly done it.’ He had faced ridicule and disbelief, yet he had succeeded. How could one not admire such a person? Gillian smiled and spurred his horse forward again. This time, he moved without urgency, a calm confidence replacing his earlier haste. As they traveled at a measured pace, they stopped upon seeing a rising cloud of dust in the distance. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. The banner above the dust cloud bore a familiar symbol. At last, Ghislain appeared, leading the Fenris mobile forces. “Gillian!” Ghislain called out to him warmly. His arrival here could only mean one thing: the Northern forces had won the war. “Lord.” “You’ve done well. Amelia must have won decisively. I knew she’d pull it off.” “You’ve worked hard as well, Lord.” The two exchanged no further words, simply sharing a smile. Ghislain then turned to address the troops who had come with Gillian. “You’ve all done well. I’m sorry I can’t let you rest just yet, but we must quickly relay news to the capital and the advancing Kingdom’s forces.” From atop his steed, the Black King, Ghislain spoke with unwavering authority. “The civil war is over.” “Now...” “It’s time to prepare for what comes next.” Only one task remained—to crush the remaining enemies completely. *** "Waaaah!" "Count Fenris! Please look this way!" "The new Kingdom’s Greatest Sword has risen!" News of the Northern army’s entry into the capital spread, bringing crowds of people into the streets to cheer. The civil war had ended, and the Salvation Order within the Kingdom of Ruthania had been eradicated. Hope had returned to the people—hope that their future could be brighter than before. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂 And the person who made all of this possible was Ghislain. He had become the Kingdom’s hero, and the cheers were deafening. Though the rifts still lingered, it would take time for them to grow and become active again. Until then, the Kingdom, now united, could prepare to defend itself. "Come, you’ve finally done it," Zvalter greeted warmly, flanked by his retainers as Ghislain arrived. Zvalter had stayed behind to stabilize the capital, unable to march with the Kingdom’s forces. The most he could do for his son was worry from afar. Now, seeing his son return victorious, Zvalter couldn’t help but beam with pride. Ghislain offered a faint smile. "Your Majesty, it’s time to hold your coronation." "Ahem, that’s... rather embarrassing," Zvalter chuckled awkwardly, still struggling to grasp the reality of becoming king. The majority of nobles supported Zvalter. The Kingdom needed a unifying leader to bring Ruthania together. With the war over, the coronation was held without delay. The ceremony was led by the only "Archbishop" and "Saint" remaining in the capital, Porisco. Through this event, Porisco solidified his position further, even going so far as to formally excommunicate the fleeing archbishop using his authority. ‘Heh, I made the right choice aligning with Count Fenris.’ Though he hadn’t so much aligned himself as been dragged along, the results were satisfying enough to please him. As soon as the coronation concluded, Zvalter began bestowing rewards to his loyalists. The first and most significant honor was, of course, given to Ghislain. "...In recognition of his service in ending the civil war, I bestow upon Ghislain, heir to the royal family, the title of Grand Duke and the territory of Ferdium..." Ghislain was granted the title of Grand Duke and control over Ferdium. This added to his holdings of Fenris, Kavaldi, and Desmond, making him the ruler of a vast expanse of land. However, there had been some contention over the title. Belinda had adamantly insisted that Ghislain be granted the rank of Grand Duke. Ghislain had tried to dissuade her, but Belinda was unyielding. "Does it have to be Grand Duke? A dukedom would suffice, wouldn’t it?" "North. Grand. Duke." Zvalter couldn’t ignore Belinda’s demands and ultimately granted Ghislain the rank of Grand Duke. For Ghislain, the title itself mattered little—his power and influence were already independent of such labels. Regardless of the title, Ghislain now stood as the most powerful figure in the Kingdom. "Congratulations, Your Grace," Claude said with a cheerful smile, bowing his head. The other retainers also celebrated the moment. Ghislain’s companions received their rewards as well. Belinda, Gillian, Kaor, and Vanessa were each granted noble titles. Though the promised lands would be distributed once the rifts were eradicated and stability returned to the Kingdom, the rewards signaled their significant contributions. Unfortunately for Claude and Alfoy, their rewards were deferred until after their period of servitude ended. Claude, wearing a blank expression, asked, "...The contract still has over 300 years left on it?" "There’s no helping it. Ending it now would defeat the point of the wager, wouldn’t it?" "..." Both Claude and Alfoy looked utterly dejected. Though Ghislain fully intended to free them once the Salvation Order was eliminated, he chose not to reveal this just yet. Those two could never be allowed to grow too complacent. In the aftermath, numerous policies were implemented quickly, one of which fulfilled a promise Ghislain had made to Ereneth. Ereneth bowed deeply before Ghislain. "Thank you for keeping your ‘promise.’ I, too, shall uphold my ‘honor’ in our alliance." As Ghislain had promised, all elves within Ruthania were freed from slavery. The same applied to dwarves. From then on, they would live as free citizens. However, the elves and dwarves serving in the Fenris army were prohibited from leaving for the time being due to the ongoing circumstances. Most Fenris knights were also elevated to noble status. Soldiers and others who had distinguished themselves in battle received appropriate rewards. Though the honors were distributed quickly to boost morale, many details remained to be sorted out. For now, everything was handled at a reasonable level. Following this, Ghislain officially transferred the western territories he had been managing back to the royal family. The Kingdom required substantial tax revenue to function. Amidst the changes, an unexpected piece of news arrived. "What? The Witch of the Banner has ceded all her eastern lands to the royal family?" "They say she even gave up her northern base to His Grace the Grand Duke." "And she only kept a tiny strip of land on the western edge? Is she insane? What’s gotten into her?" This sudden shift was the result of a new agreement Ghislain had forged with Amelia through Dark not long ago. During their negotiations, Ghislain had spoken candidly. "You want to be king, don’t you? But in this Kingdom, to become king, you and I will inevitably clash. And when the civil war ends, the winner will be clear." Amelia had no rebuttal. She had tried to undermine Ghislain’s forces, but her efforts had failed. Like the Duke’s faction, she hadn’t fully grasped the extent of Ghislain’s potential. Now outmatched, Amelia had only two choices left: submit to the new king or fight to the bitter end. Neither option appealed to her. She hadn’t rallied her forces to settle for such a paltry outcome. However, waging a losing war also went against her nature. As she wrestled with the decision, Ghislain presented her with an unconventional proposal.