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“Beggars? What nonsense are you spouting?”

“I mean exactly what I said. You’ve taken money from the Duke’s household, from Count Desmond, and yet you still haven’t dealt with the Scarlet Tower. Now you’re here, asking me for more? What exactly have you accomplished so far?”

“W-what…”

“If all you’ve done is beg for money without achieving anything, doesn’t that make you beggars? Or do I look like some saint from the temple, here to serve your every whim?”

“You… you…!”

Amelia’s cutting words left Glenn fumbling for a response.

He couldn’t deny the truth: they had received significant funding from both the Duke’s household and Count Desmond.

Still, Glenn felt wronged. That money had all gone toward the effort to starve out the Scarlet Tower. If they succeeded, the cost would have been justified. And even if they failed, who was Amelia to talk down to him like this?

“Your words go too far! Your duty is to support us on behalf of Count Desmond! I will not tolerate any further disrespect!”

Amelia curled her lips into a sardonic smile.

“And what will you do if you don’t tolerate it?”

“I’ll report this matter directly to the Tower Master! The Duke’s household will not stand idly by!”

“You won’t be going anywhere.”

“How dare you—!”

Realizing Amelia’s intentions, Glenn hastily began gathering mana. But before he could react further, someone appeared behind him.

Thwack!

“Gah!”

Glenn looked down, aghast, at the serrated blade piercing through his abdomen.

The one who had stabbed him was none other than Caleb, the leader of the Wildcat Smuggling Ring.

“You… how dare you… betray me…”

Blood trickled from Glenn’s lips as his hands trembled. He couldn’t fathom why Amelia would do this. His mind was consumed with the simple, damning thought: she had betrayed him.

Slash!

Without hesitation, Caleb withdrew his sword and, in a single swift motion, decapitated Glenn.

Glenn’s lifeless head rolled across the floor, his eyes wide open in shock.

Amelia gazed down at the severed head, her expression cold as ice.

“Arrogant fool.”

She turned away without a second glance and spoke again.

“Conrad.”

The leader of the Actium Trading Company, Conrad, stepped forward and bowed.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Take Caleb and lead the disguised caravan. Wipe out the Crimson Tower. Make sure it’s done before Delmuth returns from his engagement.”

“And who should take the blame?”

“Fenris.”

“Understood.”

Conrad grasped Amelia’s plan immediately. The Crimson Tower was the Duke’s hidden blade. If it were destroyed now, the Duke’s household wouldn’t be able to act openly without raising suspicions.

This was an ideal opportunity for Amelia, who sought to weaken the Duke’s influence.

Moreover, Delmuth, enraged by the destruction of his tower, would undoubtedly turn his fury toward Ghislain.

A sly smile spread across Amelia’s face.

“No matter how powerful Delmuth is as a 7th-Circle mage, he can’t handle Fenris alone.”

He would either lose his life in a blind rage or flee after losing his foundation. Either outcome would work in Amelia’s favor.

This was also a perfect chance to rid herself of the “beggars” who constantly clung to her, demanding money under the Duke’s banner.

As Amelia laid out her plans, Vulcan, a bandit leader who had been silently listening, suddenly erupted with enthusiasm.

“Me! I want to go too! You know I’m the best at killing people!”

He bounced on his heels, clearly excited by the prospect of action. However, Amelia shook her head.

“You’re too conspicuous. Not this time.”

The Crimson Tower was located within a major city. Letting someone as brash as Vulcan loose there would risk exposing the operation.

Vulcan slumped in disappointment, but Amelia reassured him with a grin.

“I have another task for you instead.”

“Oh! What is it?”

Amelia unfurled a map and pointed to a specific location.

“Before the civil war begins, we need to deal with everything. The Duke’s agents will be arriving soon. Take your men and wipe them out. Don’t forget to disguise yourselves.”

Vulcan commanded most of the northern bandits. Disguising themselves to ambush and kill someone was child’s play for them.

The location Amelia had indicated was a remote area, perfect for eliminating an entire group without leaving a trace.

“Understood!”

With a gleeful shout, Vulcan grabbed his club and marched off.

Meanwhile, Amelia issued further instructions to her retainers, ordering them to organize their forces and assess their supplies.

They needed to be fully prepared before the civil war erupted.

Amelia didn’t care whether the Duke’s faction or the Royalists emerged victorious. Her goal was to dismantle everything and rebuild from the ground up.

As the Duke’s household and the Royalists tore each other apart, Amelia would bide her time, weakening both sides.

What Amelia sought now was simple: chaos.

***

"How many legs… does that even make?"

Ghislain’s eyes snapped open, his mind reeling from the question about animal legs that Vanessa had posed. The more he thought about it, the more it gave him a headache—enough to make staying unconscious impossible.

“Lord Ghislain!”

Vanessa shouted joyfully as his eyes fluttered open. Around them, Gillian and the knights exhaled in collective relief.

Ghislain licked his parched lips, his voice raspy as he asked, “How many legs… No, how long was I out?”

Gillian immediately answered, “About a week, my lord.”

“A whole week… That’s quite a while.”

“This time was truly dangerous.”

“Of course. Fighting a 7th-Circle mage is no small feat,” Ghislain replied with a faint chuckle. He had passed out fighting a Blood Python before, but not like this.

This time, he felt as if he’d wrung every last drop of strength from his body, leaving himself utterly withered.

“Ugh…”

Ghislain sat up slowly, taking stock of his condition. His body felt hollow, his mana reserves as dry as cracked earth.

"This is strange… I feel like I woke up far too early."

Under normal circumstances, he should have been in a coma for at least a month. A lesser warrior would have died outright from the damage he’d sustained. Even for someone of Ghislain’s caliber, regaining consciousness this quickly seemed unnatural.

As he puzzled over this, a weary voice echoed in his mind.

― Finally awake, huh?

‘Hmm?’

― Damn it! Do you have any idea how close you were to dying? You’d be dead without me!

‘Oh? And what exactly did you do?’

― What do you think I did? I used every ounce of my power to hold your flickering life force together! And I kept poking at your emotions to keep you alive!

‘Emotions?’

― Yes, that blasted rage of yours! It flared up like it didn’t want to let you die again. By stoking that, I managed to keep you from kicking the bucket.

Ghislain chuckled softly. He hadn’t expected Dark to have such a trick up his sleeve.

Dark, unwilling to die himself, must have pulled every trick he had to save his master. The thought amused Ghislain more than it should have.

― Are you laughing? Are you seriously laughing? Do you always fight this recklessly? Do you even think about tomorrow? Or do you just live for today?

‘If you’d seen my past life, you wouldn’t ask.’

― …

Dark fell silent. He knew all too well—Ghislain had fought in his previous life with a complete disregard for his own survival, as if ready to die at any moment.

Yet it wasn’t that Ghislain had wanted to die. It was simply that his resolve in every battle had been unmatched.

In a trembling voice, Dark asked:

― Master… Have you really gone back to the past?

‘Yes.’

Ghislain spoke casually, knowing that Dark had glimpsed fragments of his memories from his previous life. There was no reason to hide the truth.

Dark, however, was still incredulous, flailing between doubt and belief.

― That’s impossible! How did you do it? Wait—was I there in your past life too? Is that why you found me and bound me? Is this all true? Are you really from the past?

Dark’s barrage of questions betrayed his desperate curiosity, but Ghislain silenced him with a shake of his head.

‘You can ask later. We don’t have time to waste on idle chatter right now.’

Turning to Gillian, Ghislain asked, “Anything noteworthy happen while I was out?”

Gillian’s face darkened.

“The Crimson Tower… has been destroyed.”

“I killed Delmuth, and we took care of the rest. Of course, the tower would fall.”

“That’s not it… The tower was attacked, and all remaining disciples were slaughtered. They’ve been reduced to ashes.”

Ghislain blinked in surprise. It was natural for the Crimson Tower to collapse after Delmuth’s death, but its utter annihilation was unexpected. The tower had been one of the strongest in the North, with many skilled disciples remaining. To think they’d all been wiped out…

“Who attacked them?”

Gillian hesitated before answering, “There are rumors… that it was us. Bodies dressed in our uniforms, complete with identification, were found among the dead.”

Ghislain tilted his head, considering the implications, then asked, “Amelia?”

Few in the North had the audacity to pull off such a bold operation. Amelia was the most likely suspect.

“No, it wasn’t her. The Grand Administrator has heightened security. We’ve been framed, but we still don’t know who’s behind it.”

“Hmm…”

Ghislain crossed his arms, deep in thought. After a moment, he nodded to himself, piecing together the situation.

‘Amelia…’

If it were her, it made perfect sense. She had the capability and the motive.

‘She’s weakening the Duke’s forces first, knowing the Royalist faction is at a disadvantage.’

Had Ghislain not intervened and killed Delmuth, the situation would have been far messier.

If the Scarlet Tower had fallen first, the remaining Crimson Tower mages would have undoubtedly targeted Fenris. A battlefield led by a 7th-Circle mage commanding dozens of disciples would have been a nightmare.

Though victory would have been possible, Fenris would have suffered devastating losses. Amelia had intended to neutralize both the Duke’s hidden strength and Fenris’s forces in one stroke.

‘She never misses an opportunity.’

Ghislain clicked his tongue in mild admiration. Though he had set the board, Amelia had exploited every opening to perfection. Her tenacity was commendable.

Still, Ghislain wasn’t overly concerned. He had planned to destroy the Crimson Tower anyway, and Amelia had simply saved him the trouble of cleaning up the remnants.

For her, it was a partial victory. For him, a convenient turn of events.

“It doesn’t matter. No need to explain or make excuses. I killed Delmuth. Let them rant all they want,” Ghislain said calmly.

Whoever finished off the Crimson Tower was irrelevant. With Delmuth dead, the blame would naturally fall on him.

The Duke’s household wouldn’t dare act openly. No one could prove their connection to the Crimson Tower.

For now, all they could do was grit their teeth in frustration.

“Prepare to leave. We need to return to the estate and start preparing,” Ghislain ordered.

As soon as he finished speaking, the door burst open, and Hubert entered, flanked by the elders.

“My lord! You’re awake! The strongest in the North! The Swordmaster himself!”

Hubert’s exaggerated flattery spilled forth as he rushed to Ghislain, his eyes gleaming with sycophantic delight.@@novelbin@@

Though initially shocked by the events, Hubert had quickly grasped the implications and was now ecstatic. The collapse of the Crimson Tower meant that the Scarlet Tower was once again the most powerful in the North.

Ghislain had done all the work, but Hubert couldn’t care less. What mattered was the newfound prestige of his tower—and the wealth and luxury it would bring.

“So, the Crimson Tower has been completely annihilated, hasn’t it? Oh, my lord, you should have told me! I would’ve gladly lent a hand,” Hubert said, his false sincerity practically dripping.

Ghislain, however, had no intention of letting him off the hook this time.

“You wanted to know why, didn’t you?” Ghislain said, his voice sharp.

“Well, yes… The result is wonderful, but it was all so sudden…”

“The Crimson Tower was raised by the Duke’s household. Their mission was to eliminate the Scarlet Tower. That’s why I destroyed them.”

Hubert and the elders froze, their faces draining of color.

“The Duke’s household… was targeting us?” Hubert stammered, his voice trembling.

Ghislain explained the Duke’s intentions and their plans to spark a civil war, methodically eliminating potential obstacles.

Hubert’s face paled further. “Th-then the Duke’s household is clearing the field of anything that could stand in their way before the war begins?”

“Exactly. Wiping out the Scarlet Tower was just one piece of their plan. You’ve probably heard of other mage towers disappearing recently.”

Hubert nodded reluctantly. Several towers had indeed vanished under suspicious circumstances, though he had never connected the dots until now.

If Ghislain was telling the truth, then the Duke had been planning this for years. The very thought made Hubert shudder.

Ghislain’s tone turned stern. “Now you must choose: stay where you are and let the Duke’s household destroy you, or fight alongside me.”

Hubert and the elders swallowed nervously. They didn’t want to fight.

Desperation drove Hubert to suggest, “W-what if we align ourselves with the Duke’s household?”

Ghislain’s smile was cold and unyielding.

“Then I’ll kill you first. We’re closer, after all. Or should I do it now? Gillian.”

“Yes, my lord.” Gillian unsheathed his axe and bowed.

Hubert and the elders stood frozen, their mouths agape.

This was the same man who had once hiked rune stone prices arbitrarily. Now he was openly threatening to kill them.