Chapter 259
"Your Highness, for what reason are you assembling all the knights nationwide at the royal residence? If needed, you could easily send out a call for mobilization, so why this grand gathering...?"
Few dared to question Logan, who held absolute authority over the kingdom, so directly.
Dwayne, one of the rare individuals who could, received a sardonic smile from Logan in return.
"It's not about necessity—it's about finances, isn't it? You're worried about the misuse of mana stones yet again."
For a moment, Dwayne's face tensed, but he quickly shook his head, pushing aside the concern.
"I'm just asking what any loyal subject would. I fail to grasp why we are mustering knights, who could be summoned at your will, at such an expense."
"To entirely overhaul the kingdom's constitution."
"...Pardon?"
"We need a complete transformation of the realm, without having to eliminate all the nobles, of course."
Starting from scratch would make it too arduous to restore order.
Logan's chilling response left Dwayne frozen, unable to register the words that followed. His simple inquiry about financial matters was met with a brutally cold reply.
"What are you planning, exactly!?"
"As I mentioned, to reform the kingdom's constitution."
"What does that entail...?"
"To centralize all military authority under my command, beginning with seizing control of the knightly orders currently influenced by the nobles."
"But the nobles already act in unison! Your Majesty, you already wield significant influence!"
"No, that's inaccurate. There are two layers to the command: me, the nobles, then the forces. I aim to eliminate the intermediary step."
"How does this relate to the current situation? And how will removing one layer bring about change!?"
"Eliminating that one layer transformed a nation, once part of many on the central continent, into the sole empire of the continent."
"...What?!"
Understanding dawned on Dwayne, his expression turning serious.
With a finality in his tone, Logan added:
"A nation where the monarch's directives are directly implemented in state affairs, where no one dares to oppose, is most effective during crises. Shifting to that constitution is my primary objective."
"To adopt imperial methods..."
"It has been my strategy since I assumed the throne. It appears to be the most efficient path."
To prevent becoming an empire, they must embrace the tactics of an empire.
Dwayne comprehended the implication, but accepting it was not easy.
"Your Majesty..."
A slight tremor passed over Dwayne's features.
"So, can't you simply issue the command now?"
"It's merely a temporary reaction born out of fear."
"Forgive my bluntness, but even in the long run, I cannot envision the nobles opposing Your Majesty. It seems like an unnecessary concern."
"No, it's better to solidify it systematically. Moreover, training all the kingdom's forces together will undoubtedly enhance our combat readiness."
Dwayne swallowed the obvious retort that had risen in his throat.
'After all, the people already sing praises of His Majesty.'
The results were clear; hence, a rebuttal seemed futile.
Yet, having spoken so much, Dwayne suddenly found himself intrigued.
To understand the thoughts of this young man, once a troublesome territory heir, now a ruler.
"Your Majesty, if, hypothetically speaking only,"
"Hm?"
"If the imperial threat did not exist... Or once it has been vanquished, what are your plans then?"
"What would I do? I would take a break."
"...Pardon?"
"I will rest, completely, until I am so weary of resting that I cannot bear it any longer."
The response was so natural, so unexpected, that Dwayne could not continue his query.
* * *
"Whew...!"
How many times had this occurred?
Galan, a knight hailing from the Daltan region, found himself astonished once more. Fortunately, his astonishment did not draw ridicule; most of his fellow knights observing the training wore equally amazed expressions. While witnessing 2,000 knights from three different orders moving in perfect unison was incredible, what truly astounded him was the nature of their training.
'Insane. They're all insane.'
Galan knew, from several days of experience, that the royal knights' training was far from ordinary. Yet what he witnessed now surpassed all understanding.
Why would someone race around clutching a horse?
"What is this...?"
This was not training; it felt more like mistreatment.
Before Galan could articulate his question, the head instructor, Heinckel, swiftly responded.
"Yes. Our McLaine—in, uh, McLaine and the royal knights’ equestrian training, the horse carries the rider. And the purpose is..."
"What on earth..."
Galan blurted out without thinking, but he quickly fell silent under the instructor's intense glare.
- You're too rebellious. That attitude will lead you into trouble one day. If you wish to live on your terms, you'd better adjust your demeanor.
A warning from his former commander briefly flashed in his mind, but Galan dismissed the ominous voice.
'He lost his strength along with his arm, yet his gaze remains that of an exceptional knight. Tch.'
After a long stare, when Heinckel noticed Galan lowering his head in defeat, he turned away and continued.
"...This training's purpose is not only to build physical strength but also to deepen the bond with one's horse, making it easier for the horse to accept commands. This enables even average knights to acquire more advanced riding skills, ultimately enhancing their overall knightly abilities. This method has proven to be effective."
Heinckel's explanation proceeded without interruption.
"No further inquiries."
Phew.
He let out a long sigh, indicating he had fielded numerous questions about this unconventional training in the past. Nevertheless, despite the eccentricity, Galan was curious.
"Who devised this peculiar training...?"
"It was my idea."
"...I was intrigued to know the originator of such a remarkable concept. No more queries."
Though his recovery was remarkably swift, it seemed too late—Heinckel's gaze remained as sharp as ever. Ignoring those hostile eyes, Galan clung to a hopeful thought.
- Three years. Just think of it as a three-year assignment. After that, I'll treat you more kindly.
Those were the words of his lord, Baron Trevor Daltan.
Indeed, for Galan, returning to the tranquil Daltan region was enticing.
Not merely because it was his hometown.
For Galan, serving as a knight of Daltan meant enjoying a comfortable position with minimal responsibilities—simply collecting his pay without much hassle. His comrades couldn't comprehend why Galan held such affection for the place and lamented its dullness.
Yet, there was something he admired about it.
'The one known as the Iron-Blooded Sword truly was exceptional.'
The ruthlessly effective swordsmanship exhibited by the average knights.
Galan pondered whether Rommel, a mid-ranking knight and captain of Daltan's knights, could match that displayed by the royal knights.
Lost in thought, Galan barely registered Heinckel disclosing something startling.
"Before becoming a legend, His Majesty also underwent this training. He marveled at its effectiveness."
The training, initially designed to discipline a wild youth, had seemingly become the key to producing a legendary figure. Despite the embellished memory in Heinckel's eyes, it managed to convince others of this seemingly deceptive truth.
The impact was immediate; the gazes of most knights shifted, likely contemplating emulating their monarch's legendary ascent.
Save for one.
Crack.
"Hey, you. Come here."
Heinckel had reached his limit.
* * *
"Ouch, my back, my legs, ah...!"
As Galan groaned and grumbled, there was no sympathy to be found. He had brought this upon himself with his thoughtless remarks, leading to all enduring collective punishment. Being pummeled by Francisco Romero, the deputy captain of the royal knights, was his own doing.
Despite his plight, Galan's complaints did not cease.
"How cowardly—a top-tier knight personally delivers the blows; they should have sent an average knight for a fair fight."
His unfounded grievances went unheeded.
No one believed he could have emerged victorious even against an average knight, but Galan staunchly held onto that belief.
His delusion was free, yet the issue lay in Galan's inability to cease his incessant chatter—even without an audience.
"When I was younger..."
"In our region, I..."
If only I had been in better form, I would have dodged those strikes effortlessly...
As bedtime loomed, his ceaseless prattle seemed to aggravate the knights around him, sharpening their stares, though he remained oblivious.
'I must silence him.'
'I'll bind his hands.'
'We'll teach him a lesson.'
Just as the surrounding knights began grinding their teeth, itching to take action, a call to attention spared Galan's life.
"Attention, everyone!"
The door swung open, and Heinckel entered. Galan winced at the sight but quickly composed himself.
With a relaxed demeanor, Heinckel gestured towards the large carriage brought in by the knights.
"Uhmm. This marks a first for this battalion. Consider it a privilege."
A privilege?
Intrigued gazes turned towards him.
"As you are aware, the observation phase concludes today. Therefore, to prepare you all for the official training commencing tomorrow, we've brought some gear."
At this, the tense atmosphere relaxed.
Gear?
That's it?
All this fuss for equipment?
Amid the knights' doubts, Heinckel smiled mischievously, then calmly announced.
"Step forward one by one and select the 'artifact' of your choice. They are only 1st circle artifacts, but they should prove quite beneficial."
Silence enveloped the barrack, followed by a glimmer of disbelief in the knights' eyes. Yet, when Heinckel produced a gauntlet glowing with a blue hue from the carriage,
"Whoaaaa!"
Including Galan, who let out an unusually loud cheer, all the knights seemed ready to rush towards the carriage. If not for Francisco's stern presence, some might have indeed surged forward.
Observing their reactions, Heinckel pondered his lord's words.
- Three years? Insignificant. Who would reject the Iron-Blooded Sword and Artifacts and opt to depart from the royal guard?
Their lord was the lord of their noble lords.
The knights had every reason to remain with the royal household.
'Hard to believe they could mass-produce artifacts.'
The future appeared as bright as the gleaming eyes of the knights, and Heinckel's smile persisted, unwavering.