The artifacts stored in the royal treasury were invaluable /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ treasures, so rare that their worth was almost impossible to determine. And yet, Ghislain couldn’t care less. He was not the type to rely on the power of treasure, and he believed that hoarding them in a vault was a waste. If something had value, it was better to put it to use. “Good. With this, I can make a few more of them.” He had already stored the bodies of skilled knights who had perished in the war inside his spatial storage. There were so many that even if he used every artifact in the treasury, it still wouldn’t be enough to turn all of them into Death Knights. But every additional one he could create mattered. As long as he found ways to keep gathering mana, he would continue creating them. The vast wealth seized from Marquis Falkenheim’s domain had now arrived in the capital. From all of it, Ghislain carefully picked out only the objects imbued with mana. “I’m taking these. Anyone have a problem with that? If you want, I’ll share—just speak up quickly.” “......” Ghislain allowed freedom of speech. What he did not allow was freedom after one spoke. Understanding his nature well enough, no one—neither the royal officials nor the nobles—dared to make a sound. They were already more than satisfied with the wealth they would get to split among themselves. Thus, Ghislain scraped up every artifact he could find, dedicating himself entirely to the creation of Death Knights. “They’ll be in for a shock when they see this later.” Creating Death Knights was not an easy task. But Ghislain was grinning the entire time. This was a power he alone possessed. Barring extraordinary circumstances, he had no intention of using it in battles against mere humans. But the real world was never that simple. In the inevitable fights against the Golems and the Opposer, his Death Knights would be of great use. “If another rift opens... I’ll just flood the battlefield with them.” Death Knights were perfect warriors—undying, endlessly capable of fighting. It was the same reason Helgenique had been able to stand alone against the Rift. His Immortal Army was what had made it possible. Ghislain, in a way, had always envied that. Now, he was creating an undying army of his own. His physical body contained far more mana than any monster, thanks to the poison of Morbus that he had absorbed in the Forest of Beasts. On top of that, he still hadn’t even used the fragment of the Dragon Heart. “If I absorb that as well... I might end up with the highest mana reserves in history.” With the magical knowledge Ghislain had mastered, if he could fully absorb it, he would be able to create the greatest undead army ever known. For several days, he focused entirely on his work. Everyone had no choice but to wait. Only after his work was complete did the victory banquet finally begin. The capital was flooded with minor nobles who had been lying low. Neutral lords and their retainers had also gathered. And, of course, the leading members of the Julien Mercenary Corps were present. Unsurprisingly, the real stars of the celebration were not the nobility but the Julien Mercenary Corps. Or rather... Julien himself. “Lord Julien, please look this way.” “You’re the commander of the Julien Mercenary Corps, correct?” “You are truly incredible!” The young nobles were all flocking to Julien. They showered him with praise, eager to form a connection. Most of the nobles present were weak lords—individuals whose influence was lacking. To them, Julien was an irresistible opportunity. And the fact that he was handsome only made matters worse. Titles didn’t matter. With the strength of the Julien Mercenary Corps, gaining a noble title would be easy. Of course, a few old nobles still looked down on them, but their voices were drowned out. They had no power, so their opinions didn’t matter. This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight. Julien, unfamiliar with such attention, looked completely overwhelmed. His awkward, embarrassed laughter only encouraged the nobles to push in closer. His smile, for some reason, had a calming effect on those around him. As competition intensified, some nobles turned their attention to the other members of the mercenary corps. Deneb, Kyle, Tyron, and even Osvald found themselves surrounded by eager noblemen. That was just how powerful the Julien Mercenary Corps had become in the kingdom. Watching this from afar, Ghislain—who had been conversing with Alex—smirked. “I should put them through more of this in the future.” All of them were highly skilled warriors, but they were completely defenseless against noble society. They could face monsters, assassins, and armies, but a room full of aristocrats? They had no training for that. Just then, Astion—who had recently regained control of his body—suddenly yelled out. — Me too! Me too! ‘Huh?’ — I want to get close to noble ladies like they are! Let me join in! “......” — You never know what could happen! I need to make connections, form relationships! Stop talking about boring war stuff for once! Astion had clearly made up his mind. He wasn’t interested in war. He was interested in romance. He pestered Ghislain, demanding to be introduced to noblewomen. Ghislain chuckled. Right now, he was talking with Alex and several lords about state affairs and war strategy. From Astion’s perspective, however, he was missing out. All of his comrades were off charming nobles, while he was stuck discussing politics. “...Alright. I can at least help you with that.” With confidence, Ghislain stood up. He wasn’t bragging, but even in his past life, he had been extremely popular at banquets. Introducing Astion to some people wouldn’t be difficult at all. His plan was simple—he would start with Julien, the center of attention, and naturally join the conversation with the nobles around him. But then— “Hm?” As Ghislain moved toward Julien, something felt... off. With each step, people... subtly distanced themselves from him. ‘Is it just my imagination?’ He tilted his head. No matter how much he walked, the distance between him and the others never seemed to shrink. That couldn’t be right. Everyone was desperate to befriend the Julien Mercenary Corps. So why...? Trying to ignore the strange feeling, he smiled warmly and took another step forward. Shffft. “......” Everyone took one step back. The area around Julien suddenly became empty. It was eerily silent. Ghislain took a step to the side to test something. Shffft. Everyone subtly shifted in the same direction. Now intrigued, Ghislain zigzagged left and right. Shffft. Shffft. Shffft. “......” With each step, the nobles instinctively moved away. It was as if some invisible force was repelling them. As if he had become severed from the world itself. In the midst of the unsettling silence, whispers reached his ears. “...That’s the Mad Superhuman, Astion.” “Shh! Stay quiet. If he hears you, you’re dead.” “Don’t make eye contact. Just stay still.” Fear. That was all Ghislain could hear. ‘...What do I do now?’ Only now did Ghislain fully understand. The way people perceived him in reality and Astion in this world were entirely different. No matter how reckless he had acted in his previous life, Ghislain had still been the heir of House Ferdium, a noble by birth. He had been fully supported by Marquis Branford, the leader of the royalist faction. Yes, many nobles had envied and resented him, but just as many had admired him. In the end, he had even become the hero who saved the continent. With a story like that, it was inevitable that Ghislain’s popularity had skyrocketed. But what about Astion? ‘To them, he’s just a lunatic mercenary from the countryside.’ Even if Ghislain behaved the same way here, these nobles saw him as nothing more than a dangerous criminal. He hadn’t saved the world yet. All he had done was form a mercenary corps and crush anyone who stood in his way. No wonder the nobles were terrified of getting involved with him. Even the royal family and the lords who had fought alongside him in the war were wary of his presence. You couldn’t earn easy money without a bit of suffering. “......” Ghislain wasn’t oblivious. Without another word, he slowly turned back toward Alex’s side. The only people who welcomed him were the drunken, middle-aged lords whose faces had turned red with alcohol. “Hic! The acting Supreme Commander has arrived!” “Those young brats are impossible to talk to, right? They’ve never seen real hardship!” “A Supreme Commander needs wisdom and experience! You look like a kid, though! Hahaha!” “......” As soon as Ghislain returned to the king’s side, the banquet returned to its lively atmosphere. Voices filled the air again. Laughter spread across the room. “......” Ghislain said nothing. Because Astion was practically screaming in his head. — You, you, YOU! This is YOUR fault! I became a lonely outcast because of YOU! “......” — They’re scared of me! Everyone’s terrified! I didn’t even do anything! My body was just stolen, so why do I have to be treated like some monster?! ‘...They just don’t know your charm yet. Once they do, they’ll warm up to you.’ — HOW CAN THEY IF THEY WON’T EVEN TALK TO ME?! — I... I can live without friends... — WELL, I CAN’T! ‘...But hey, at least you’re more popular than those drunk uncles. You’re cute, after all.’ — THAT MAKES IT EVEN WORSE! “......” Ghislain crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He wanted to comfort Astion, but no words seemed appropriate. Then, Dark let out a sigh. — Pathetic. — What did you just say?! — Whining over not having friends? Life is meant to be lonely, fool! — WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU CRAZY ANGEL?! — Hmph. Unlike you, I have plenty of friends. And just like that, the two started bickering. Ghislain, his head throbbing, simply blocked out their voices. They could fight all they wanted inside his mind. He did feel a little bad for Astion, but... They were leaving this kingdom soon anyway. He could just make new friends in the next one. And if he saved the world along the way, maybe his popularity would naturally increase. That was how Ghislain decided to rationalize the situation. The next morning, while Ghislain was packing his things, Tyron approached him. “You’re really leaving? We’re the strongest mercenary corps in the kingdom now—you could just stay here and live comfortably.” Tyron, unintentionally, had already achieved his lifelong dream. He wasn’t the commander, but he had become one of the vice-commanders of the strongest mercenary corps in the country. Yet now, Ghislain was about to take some of their forces and leave for another kingdom. They had already discussed this beforehand, but Tyron still felt reluctant and had to ask again. Ghislain nodded without hesitation. “Of course. A single kingdom isn’t enough. If I’m going to make Julien the King of Mercenaries, we need to make a name for ourselves across the entire continent.” “Pffft...” Tyron let out a helpless laugh. Ghislain’s ambitions were too vast for him to even comprehend. Even after taking control of an entire kingdom, he considered it insignificant. Well... It made sense now why he had been able to turn the whole kingdom upside down. Ghislain grinned and patted Tyron’s shoulder. “Make sure the remaining mercenaries are properly trained and ready to move at a moment’s notice. We’ll be setting up branches in other kingdoms.” “Che. Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Most of the Julien Mercenary Corps would remain behind. They needed to absorb all the remaining mercenaries in the kingdom. Ghislain entrusted that task to Tyron. Now that they were the strongest force, recruiting others wouldn’t be difficult. And Tyron was a reliable comrade. Before leaving, Ghislain handed him a gift. “Here. You’re weak, so use this and train harder.” “...You...” Tyron took the booklet and looked at it in disbelief. It contained Ghislain’s revised mana training method—improved and reinforced with new techniques. Even a quick glance revealed how incredible the content was. If he kept training with this, he might even reach transcendence. And yet, Ghislain was handing it over without a second thought. His generosity was staggering. Ghislain smirked. “Are you sure about this? I might become stronger than you.” “That’d be great. The stronger the opponent, the more fun the fight. ...Not that I’d ever lose.” The two grinned and bumped fists— A greeting only mercenaries would understand. Only a small group would be leaving. Along with the original four members, they were bringing ten former bandit mercenaries who still needed more discipline before they could be considered reformed. As they finished packing, Osvald beamed and shouted. “Take care out there! The great Osvald will stand strong and wait for your return!” “...Oh, right. I almost forgot about you. You’re coming too.” “W-Wait! The great Osvald has... flat feet! I can’t march for long distances...!” “Go pack your things.” “...Yes, sir.” And so, Osvald, tears in his eyes, reluctantly joined the departing group. With that, Ghislain’s party was fully prepared to set off for another kingdom.