Chapter 249 - Our Knights Will Wear That. (1)

The leader of the spies broke into a cold sweat and shifted his eyes nervously.

'What's going on? He only saw us in passing, but he remembers us? Out of all those workers?'

What an insane eye for detail. Though he had never seen the lord's abilities firsthand, he began to think that the rumors about him being near the level of a master might be true.

'W-What do I do? What should I say?'

The spies were flustered. They were not supposed to be remembered by anyone. Reducing their presence was a fundamental rule of being a spy.

The leader quickly composed himself and responded.

"We got acquainted during the migration. Since we're outsiders, we naturally needed people to rely on."

"Oh, is that so? You don't have any family?"

"No, we're all alone. Some of us were orphans from the start, while others lost their families to the war. The fact that we had no one to rely on brought us closer."

The leader did his best to maintain his composure. He had prepared extensively for situations like this. He was ready to answer any question.

Their identities had been thoroughly fabricated, complete with false hometowns and acquaintances in case anyone decided to investigate. Of course, those "acquaintances" were also spies.

Ghislain smirked and placed a hand on the leader's shoulder.

"Right, making friends is essential when living far from home. But all three of you have impressive physiques, don't you?"

"...It's a bit embarrassing, but I used to be an outlaw in the slums. Now, I'm working hard to reflect on my past and contribute to the territory."

"An outlaw? That's a fancy way of putting it. So, basically, you were just a thug."

"...Yes."

"What about the other two?"

At Ghislain's question, the other members tensed up before answering.

"I mostly did physical labor for merchant guilds. They had me do some guard work because of my strength."

"I worked on construction sites. For a while, I also worked as security for a labor camp."

They answered exactly as they had been trained. They had also gained actual knowledge of those jobs to back up their claims.

After all, someone might get suspicious just by looking at their well-trained bodies.

"Hmm..."

Ghislain scrutinized the three of them from head to toe with a suspicious look before speaking.

"Take off your shirts."

Who would dare refuse? Hesitatingly, the three men removed their tops.

As expected, all three had well-built, muscular bodies. After examining their upper bodies and hands, Ghislain continued.

"No matter how you look at it, these are the bodies of men trained in swordsmanship…. Judging by your hands, you've also practiced throwing weapons."

The spies turned pale. Despite the moderate temperature, cold sweat was now pouring down their faces.

'What is this? How does he know just by looking?'

'He's just fishing, right? Please let it be that!'

Most spies learn swordsmanship in preparation for assassination orders or in case they need to escape using force. Similarly, training in throwing weapons is common for the same reasons.

Of course, there are spies who don't learn any martial arts. However, they are usually brilliant and infiltrate as managers or scholars—high-value assets.

Unlike his two subordinates, who looked like they'd seen a ghost, the leader kept his cool and thought quickly.

'Should I just confess and throw these guys under the carriage? I genuinely wanted to settle here! I even bought a house and saved a lot of money!'

He had abandoned his family and planned to bury his roots in this land. He was even trying to convince his subordinates. Dying now would feel incredibly unfair.

No, he couldn't die yet. He had just managed to buy his own house.

"Actually..."

The leader hesitantly began to speak, but Ghislain interrupted him with a casual remark.

"Well, whatever. Whether you're spies or not doesn't matter."

The three men widened their eyes in shock.

'Was he just fishing?'

'What does he mean, "It doesn't matter if we're spies"?'

Seeing their confusion, Ghislain grinned mischievously.

"I'm a pacifist, you see. Killing someone just because they seem suspicious is the act of a lunatic. Don't you agree?"

"Y-Yes, of course..."

"Besides, our territory is short on manpower. Killing strong, healthy people just because they're suspicious would be a huge loss. Even if you were spies, we couldn't afford to kill you."

"I-Is that so?"

"But of course, we can't just leave suspicious people unattended. So we have a special place for people like you."

"A-And what is that?"

Ghislain turned to Gillian, who was standing beside him.

"Send these guys to the 'Labor Assault Corps.'"

"Understood."

The sudden pronouncement struck the spies like a bolt of lightning, and they fell to the floor.

"Please, my lord! We're innocent!"

"We'll work hard!"

"Please spare us!"

The spies wailed in despair.

The "Labor Assault Corps" was notorious in the territory. It handled the most dangerous tasks and also involved military training. In times of war, its members were sent to the frontlines.

With a war against Desmond looming, being sent to the frontlines meant certain death.

Despite their pleas, Ghislain shook his head.

"Why are you so scared? It's just another job. It's only a little tougher than usual. Prove your innocence while working there."

The three men were dragged away, their faces filled with bitterness. While it was a relief that they weren't executed on the spot, death in battle seemed inevitable.

And before that, they'd have to endure grueling labor. The overseer of the labor corps, Kaor, was infamous for pushing workers to their limits.

Even as he was being dragged away, the leader gritted his teeth.

'I won't die! I'll survive this and live a happy life in my house!'

Before he owned a house, he had been a loyal spy for Desmond.

But having a nice home had changed him. He wanted to marry, have children, and live out his days peacefully.

In the end, it was the cost of housing that made the difference. The leader realized he could never afford a home in Desmond's territory on a spy's salary. Moreover, a single mistake in his line of work could get him killed.

'I'm done with that life! Here, I can earn more just by working!'

Even the strongest loyalty crumbled under the power of wealth.

If he worked diligently in the labor corps, he might eventually be released. Then he could continue earning money and living comfortably.

So, he made up his mind.

'I'll survive this! I'll kill as many of Desmond's people as I can, win this war, and earn merit!'

Thus, a legendary traitor was born.

***

When Ghislain returned to his office after sending the spies to the labor corps, Galbarik and the dwarves came rushing in with tears streaming down their faces.

"My lord! My lord!"

"What is it?"

The dwarves looked like bearded goblins with their haggard appearances, but this time their faces radiated happiness instead of exhaustion.

"Oh, don't tell me..."

Seeing the hope in Ghislain's eyes, Galbarik laughed heartily and declared:

"We've finally done it! We've successfully created Galbanium!"

"You've succeeded!"

Ghislain's face lit up with a bright smile. It had taken a long time, but he had always believed they would succeed. Unlike the giant incubator, this was something Galbarik had also accomplished in his previous life.

Beaming, Galbarik responded confidently.

"That's right! By researching the method you provided, we've made it a reality! Hahaha!"

Galbarik laughed loudly. Though he had received help from Ghislain, mastering a new technology filled him with pride.

Carefully, he pulled out a metallic ingot and handed it to Ghislain.

"This is Galbanium! See for yourself!"

Ghislain inspected the ingot, examining it closely.

Its extremely light weight was surprising. No one would expect an alloy this light to be as strong as steel.

He unsheathed his sword and, without channeling any mana, swung it against the ingot with moderate force.

Clang!

The sword bounced off, leaving no scratch.

"Wow!"

It was flawless. Ghislain couldn't help but be impressed. It was exactly the same as what he had seen in his past life.

With a satisfied smile, Ghislain remarked.

"Excellent. It's perfect, just like the one created by the legendary blacksmith."

"Then let me meet that blacksmith!"

"...I told you, I don't know where they are."

Ghislain averted his gaze and feigned ignorance. If Galbarik wanted to find that blacksmith, he'd just have to look in the mirror.

Though slightly disappointed, Galbarik adjusted his beard in front of a nearby mirror and continued.

"Anyway, this is a historic achievement! And the best part is, only we can produce it right now!"

Just as Galbarik said, this technology belonged exclusively to Fenris Territory. While no secret lasts forever, it wouldn't spread immediately.

"Good. Now we need to start mass-producing Galbanium. Teach the method only to skilled and trustworthy craftsmen, and ensure they're paid handsomely—so well that they have no complaints."

"Understood! I'll make sure no information leaks. Don't worry!"

Galbarik understood the stakes. He knew a war with Count Desmond was inevitable, so protecting this technology was crucial.

He also fully grasped the implications of Ghislain's words.

"Trustworthy craftsmen" and "handsome pay" meant isolating them to ensure secrecy.

With a secure workforce, mass production was feasible. Large-scale forges and smithies had already been constructed throughout the territory in preparation for this moment.

"Then I'll start preparations for mass production and training immediately! If you'll excuse me…"

Galbarik and the dwarves tried to make a hasty retreat. They knew lingering around the lord often led to trouble.

But Ghislain placed a hand on Galbarik's shoulder, smiling.

"Why leave so soon?"

"We need to start production…"

Sensing something ominous, Galbarik and the dwarves lowered their eyes, silently praying to be dismissed.

"Come on, you know how we do things here. Now that Galbanium production is a success, it's time for the next step."

'You're not human…'

Galbarik felt tears welling up.

Just creating this was exhausting enough, not to mention the upcoming task of mass production. And now there was another project?

'I shouldn't have promised to do my best!'

Still, dwarven pride wouldn't allow him to refuse. That pride, always their downfall, remained unshaken.

"Fine… What's next?"

"We're going to make armor."

"Armor? Aren't we already planning to replace all weapons and armor with Galbanium versions?"

The plan was to eventually replace all iron-based equipment in the territory, from soldiers' gear to everyday tools, with Galbanium. Exceptions would only be made for items like castle gates, where weight was beneficial.

But Ghislain had something far more special in mind.

"We won't just replace the materials. We're going to develop entirely new equipment. We'll add new weapons, but first, we're starting with the armor and helmets for the knights. Take a look at this."

Ghislain handed Galbarik a set of design blueprints.

After examining them closely, Galbarik asked with a puzzled expression.

"What are these grooves on the armor and helmets? Don't tell me…"

"Exactly. They're for embedding Rune Stones."

"You're planning to engrave magic circles on the armor and embed Rune Stones? And you want 400 of these? Are you sure you've done the math?"

When Ghislain nodded, Galbarik was stunned.

If they followed these designs, each piece of armor would be worth enough for an average person to live comfortably for a lifetime.

Producing 400 sets would cost more than the annual budget of most territories combined.

In fact, this single project represented the largest expenditure in the entire territory.

"I may not be great with finances or administration, but… doesn't this risk bankrupting the territory? Galbanium alone is expensive, but Rune Stones are the real problem. Every one we use means fewer we can sell."

Galbanium was still in its early production phase, and the high cost of raw materials made it expensive to produce.

Replacing all the territory's iron equipment with Galbanium would already cost a fortune.

Adding Rune Stones on top of that? If the vassals found out, they'd surely faint. Especially Claude—he'd throw a fit.

Perhaps anticipating this, Galbarik asked again.

"This will make us stronger in battle, but isn't it excessive? No territory has equipment this advanced. Wouldn't it be better to use this money to increase the army size or stockpile weapons?"

"Our knights will wear this."

Ghislain wasn't aiming for ordinary knights who simply knew how to wield mana.

He wanted a knight order capable of fighting anytime, anywhere—a force that could operate under any conditions and excel in all forms of warfare.

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