CHAPTER 142: Wait for it (5)

Raul hadn't sensed any killing intent.

But he couldn't dismiss what the man beside him said.

After all, this was the kingdom's top fighter speaking.

Raul furrowed his brow and asked, "What level of skill do you think he has?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"You couldn't gauge his strength?"

When Raul questioned him, the man shook his head as if shuddering.

"It felt… off."

"What do you mean by 'off'?"

"Every movement, every breath he took was precise, yet if you just looked at him, he didn't seem that strong…"

"So how strong is he exactly?"

The man reflected briefly before replying flatly.

"If the stories about his exploits in the war are true, he's the real deal."

"Hmm…"

Raul tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Can a man notorious for being a troublemaker truly possess such exceptional skill? Are you sure you didn't misjudge him?"

"No, I'm certain. His skills are sufficient for success on the battlefield. Even if his body and mana are lacking, exceptional technique can compensate."

Raul exhaled lightly at the man's response.

'Perhaps I should have crushed him immediately, even if it meant taking a risk. His fame isn't too widespread yet, so we could've managed the fallout.'

Killing him would have certainly caused an uproar among the royalist nobles, but Raul could have framed it as an honorable duel.

If he and the man beside him had judged it necessary, even the Duke Delphine would have understood.

Both men had earned that level of trust.

Unable to suppress his regret, Raul muttered aloud.

"I should've just killed him today."

The masked man was silent for a moment before speaking.

"I considered it for a moment as well. What he's achieved at his age is extraordinary."

"Then why didn't you? I would've taken care of the aftermath."

"…There wasn't an opening for a decisive strike. Or rather, there were openings, but they felt… deliberate. As if he was baiting me."

"What?"

Raul asked in a tone of disbelief, and the man continued matter-of-factly.

"If I failed to kill him in a single strike, Marquis Branford's knights would have swarmed us. It would have escalated with no gains. That's why I held back. There was no benefit to causing a commotion now."

"You weren't confident to kill him in a single strike? You?"

"Yes."

Raul couldn't believe it. Or perhaps he refused to believe it.

"That's impossible. He's too young to have such skills. Did you misjudge him?"

"Maybe. Perhaps I was fooled by his demeanor and boldness. But swinging a sword without certainty would've been foolish."

Raul furrowed his brow, his face still full of dissatisfaction.

"Even if it wasn't a single strike… Couldn't you have killed him before anyone noticed?"

The masked man thought for a moment and then spoke slowly.

"Ten strikes."

"Ten strikes?"

"If my assessment is correct, it would take at least ten strikes to kill him. But with that level of skill, he would have fled to the banquet hall immediately after the first attack."

"That would have been troublesome…"

"Exactly. So forget it. Another opportunity will come."

Raul clicked his tongue in frustration.

"Would assassination work?"

The masked man narrowed his eyes and glared at Raul, speaking in a low, clipped tone.

"You're not suggesting I do it myself, are you?"

"Of course not. That would be a waste of talent. I'm just asking if it's feasible."

"…It might be possible, depending on the assassin's skill. But there's no benefit to provoking him unnecessarily. You know this."

"I don't intend to ruin things just to kill him. It's just a shame, that's all."

Ghislain was currently basking in the attention of the capital's nobles after curing the Marquis's daughter.

Attempting assassination now, and leaving behind any trace, would be disastrous.

For now, they needed to maintain the status quo and continue quietly swaying the capital's nobles to their side.

"Damn it, I should've killed him before he joined the royalist faction. I underestimated the situation. Of all things, I thought the north would be the easiest to conquer, yet it's proving to be the slowest."

"Harold has suffered a setback too, but he's capable enough to handle it cautiously."

"He'd better be."

Raul's tone was icy as he smirked bitterly.

Had Harold secured the north before Ghislain gained recognition, things wouldn't have gotten so complicated.

Raul sighed and continued.

"Warn Harold, just in case. Tell him to consider Ghislain Perdium's combat skills equivalent to a knight commander's."

"North's Finest Sword."

"…What are you talking about? The North's Finest Sword?"

"I mean Ghislain Perdium's combat abilities. Tell him to treat them on par with Knight Commander Rayfold, the North's Finest Sword."

Raul's eyes widened as he questioned.

"Isn't that an overly generous evaluation? It's already excessive to equate him to a knight commander at his age."

"Call it a warrior's intuition. I know you hate hearing things like that."

"Hm…"

Raul rubbed his chin and chuckled softly.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to be thorough. I'll pass it along."

"Not that it will matter much once we begin moving in earnest. War isn't fought by one person alone."

"To hear you, the so-called One-Man Army, say that war isn't fought alone—it doesn't suit you at all."

In response to Raul's mocking, the masked man replied calmly.

"Doesn't the royal family have someone like me as well? As long as he and I are checking each other, the outcome of war depends on others."

The masked man paused briefly before murmuring with a touch of bitterness.

"It's exhausting."

With that, the masked man fell silent.

***

After Raul left, the banquet continued in a celebratory mood for a while.

The royalist nobles were elated by how a young upstart had rejected the ducal house's offer.

They gathered in small groups, praising Ghislain's boldness while drinking and chatting.

As the night deepened, the prince and high-ranking nobles began leaving, and the banquet naturally came to an end.

"Sigh, I'm exhausted."

Ghislain loosened his tight collar and shook his head.

He always felt this way—dealing with people was more draining than fighting.

Forcing a smile sent shivers down his spine, and he was reminded how ill-suited he was for such things.

As he was waiting for the right moment to slip away, Rozalin approached him.

"You've worked hard today."

"Well, I can't deny that. But it wasn't all bad."

"Hehe, it's rare to see someone draw so much attention at a banquet."

"Indeed. Even I didn't realize I was so popular."

After rejecting Raul's proposal, the nobles wouldn't leave Ghislain alone.

The connections he made today would be useful someday, but all he wanted now was to return and rest.

As Ghislain tried to wrap up the conversation and leave, Rozalin asked him,

"What is your goal, Baron?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm curious about what you're aiming for."

"Just… nothing different from anyone else. To live well, eat well, that sort of thing."

Ghislain deflected with a vague answer.

Who could he share his true intentions with?

To annihilate the Duke Delphine's house, to raze it to the ground, to hunt down the forces behind them and crush them—all of it fueled by his return from the future.

A future where countless people would die.

'If I told anyone, they'd think Ghislain Perdium had gone mad.'

Perhaps history would remember him as a warmonger, a butcher.

Why bother voicing such a bloody future?

There was no one to confide in, no one to rely on.

The only thing he trusted was himself.

Even the royalist faction was just a tool to achieve his goals.

As Ghislain fell into thought, Rozalin responded with a curious smile.

"That's a simple goal. But for such simplicity, everything you do seems extraordinary."

"Well, I just prefer to get things done quickly. Everything I've done has been to strengthen my estate. Nothing more."

"Hm…"

Rozalin narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him as if doubting his words.

Her gaze made Ghislain uncomfortable, as if she was trying to pierce his true intentions.

"I'm tired, so I'll be going now. Until next time."

As he tried to leave, Rozalin called out in a gentle tone.

"Don't forget that I'm your supporter. Let me know if you need help."

"Thank you. But I doubt I'll need to trouble you much."

Ghislain drew a firm line.

He understood her sentiment and appreciated it, but this was as far as it went.

To achieve his goals, he would have to take increasingly aggressive actions.

He might even become a threat to the royal family and find himself at odds with everyone.

'Only by going that far will I stand a chance against the Duke Delphine.'

He didn't want Rozalin or the Marquis Branford meddling or intervening.

Goodwill had its limits. It was better to take what they needed from each other and go their separate ways.

He didn't want anyone to die because of him.

"Well then, I'll be going. It was a pleasure."

Watching Ghislain leave, Rozalin sighed softly.

She had her reasons for helping him, but thanks to him, she had gained a new lease on life.

No matter how much she repaid him, it wouldn't feel like enough.

She had wanted to maintain a lasting connection, but he had cut ties decisively.

Turning away as if nothing had happened, Rozalin headed to her room.

It seemed she wouldn't get much sleep tonight.

***

As Ghislain boarded his carriage to leave, he sighed at the frustration clouding his mind.

'It's suffocating.'

The masked man had guessed correctly. Ghislain had debated killing Raul right then and there.

The aftermath could have been dealt with later. No, he should have ignored the consequences and done it.

'No matter the cost, it would have been worth it.'

The Duke Delphine's rise had been largely due to Raul's schemes.

Much of the kingdom's wealth and support had already fallen into the ducal house's hands.

The unrest spreading across the kingdom was mostly orchestrated by Raul.

'If it weren't for him…'

Ghislain clenched his teeth, recalling the masked man.

During their conversation, he had made several attempts to kill Raul.

But each time, the masked man intervened seamlessly.

Amazingly, the man read even the slightest movements Ghislain made and countered them, exuding faint killing intent that warned, 'If you try anything, I'll kill you.'

That was why Ghislain hadn't been able to attack Raul.

'Truly a formidable figure, far beyond his reputation.'

Ghislain's ability to manipulate mana and his insight were nearly on par with his time as the Mercenary King.

There were only a handful of people in the kingdom who could interfere with his breathing technique.

A 7th-circle or higher mage or a Swordmaster.

'There are only two Swordmasters in Lutania.'

One served as the royal knight commander, always by the king's side.

The other…

The Duke Delphine's most loyal sword, a man recognized as the kingdom's strongest warrior.

'The Kingdom's Finest Sword, Swordmaster Count Balzac.'

Ghislain covered his face with his hand and laughed silently.

It wasn't a laugh of joy—it was one to suppress his seething anger.

He had let the men he needed to kill go, and it made his blood boil.

'If only I had regained my full strength from my previous life…'

If he had, he would have found a way to cut them all down.

That regret churned within him.

'It's already done. Let it go. I need to focus on growing stronger and building my forces faster.'

Since returning to the past, he hadn't wasted a single moment. This was the best he could manage for now.

But his best wasn't enough to face Count Balzac.

"Sigh…"

Ghislain suppressed his killing intent, locking it deep in his chest.

He vowed to one day unleash all the frustration and anger he felt now.

'Next time… things won't end so quietly.'

He knew they would meet again.

When he and the ducal house finally clashed with everything at stake.

Only then would it be decided who was truly the strongest in the kingdom.

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