Chapter 216 - Preparing to March

Ferda officially announced to every noble in the far east that he would be joining the campaign in support of the Empire, as one of its own.

“You have set the force at five hundred—one hundred knights and four hundred regular infantry. Do you intend to march with those numbers?” asked Count Concillus, one of his closest confidants.

Hearing the concern in his voice, Ferda asked, “Too few after all?”

“The Empire will make no secret of its displeasure. They will ask why there are only four infantrymen for every knight, when there should be at least thirty soldiers...”

“That is because our army has qualities they cannot see. What could they say if we prove that our force is superior to an army of tens of thousands?”

“That is also true.”

Concillus had voiced his concerns, but he did not press the matter. Ferda was someone he could trust.

“Then for now, I will simply tell them we are sending one hundred knights. Rather than give them grounds to criticize us in advance by mentioning a total of five hundred, you can prove your point on the battlefield.”

“Please do.”

“I will recruit the knights.”

Concillus took charge of recruiting the hundred knights who would form the front line, while Ferda began recruiting in Hestia village to fill the infantry ranks. Surprisingly, he put Penelope in charge of that task.

“You, citizens of Hestia! You who came here dreaming of success! You who now have the chance to seize it! Grand Duchess Valdrova needs you! Enlist today!”

She shouted like a clown in the square, calling for volunteers. Her usual frenetic patter made it hard to imagine the pitch working, but a surprising number of people gathered.

“It seems to be working because she appeals to people's ambition and makes enlistment seem like no big deal.”

“Hmm...”

Why was that? She was doing something good for the village, yet the more she helped, the less Ferda liked it.

In any case, all the recruits were trained under William. He had formally become a knight, no longer serving as security captain but bearing the title of Guardian Knight of the Far East. As training commander, he drilled them repeatedly in tactics, working to make each man capable of pulling his weight as quickly as possible.

'Three weeks until we march.'

Mastering the weapon through repeated drills was only a little harder than learning to use a spear, but it was twice as effective. By the time they marched, the soldiers would be able to pull their weight.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Isabella said. “Someone wishes to see you, Lord Ferda. You will be surprised to hear who.”

She gave him the name, and he was just as surprised as she had predicted.

“Where is he?”

“Sitting in the town hall's meeting room, waiting.”

When Ferda headed to the town hall at her direction, he found a man standing motionless inside. He was standing because no chair could bear his weight, and his attire made it clear why. Calling what he wore a fortress would have been no exaggeration.

Alberto, the moving fortress. The man was too heavy even to go upstairs, forcing Ferda to meet him on the ground floor.

'I did hear he'd stayed in the village rather than leaving...'

He had become the new armored knight, replacing the one who had vanished without warning at some point. Unlike his predecessor, however, he did not help with the village's construction. He merely claimed a corner of the stables as his own and stayed curled up there, motionless. No one had ever seen him eat or drink.

Recently, at least, a chicken had reportedly been circling him, giving rise to rumors that he was keeping it as a pet.

The fact that this man had finally stirred and requested an audience with Ferda gave him a strange new perspective on Alberto. Given the timing, though, he could guess what had brought him.

“I am curious why you wished to see me.”

“I heard you were marching against the Demons,” Alberto said in a deep voice.

“Your purpose?”

“To kill Demons. Nothing more.”

Nothing more needed to be said.

“Alberto, the moving fortress. You are a free spirit.” Ferda put his question courteously. “You are justice in motion, a free spirit who acts to kill Demons. I find it hard to understand why you would come to me to say you wish to kill them.”

When Alberto set out to kill Demons, he usually vanished without a word. There was no reason for him to come and tell Ferda like this. Ferda even wondered whether he had discovered the existence of the king of Heinkel's magic.

“Gokma.” Alberto first summed it up in a single word. “I went after him to kill him, but Gokma has magic.”

“Spatial arts that let him travel across the continent.”

“Even if I have the strength to smash every Demon's skull, I cannot overcome the power of magic.”

Ferda understood what he wanted. “In short, you are interested in magical engineering.”

“Yes.”

“But magical engineering is Hestia's asset. You cannot use it unless you are one of us.”

“Will becoming your knight suffice?”

His ready compliance only made Ferda uneasy. He asked another question. “Would that be enough to earn your loyalty?”

“I understood you did not want my loyalty.”

“True. All I need is for us to work toward a common goal.”

Ferda had never wanted to win this man's loyalty, nor had he been confident that he could. Even the first time he had offered Alberto knighthood, he had framed it as a request to keep watch over him.

“On that note, where does your mission to kill Demons come from?”

Alberto answered, “Why do you think we breathe?”

“To live.”

“It is the same. Something I must do even if I do not want to. Something I cannot help doing, even without conscious thought.”

“Then nothing could please you more than an endless supply of things to kill.”

“Watch your tongue, Regent,” Alberto warned in a low voice. “I may have no mission to serve humanity or the continent, but I am not a bloodthirsty maniac who wishes for chaos.”

“My apologies for provoking you.”

Ferda needed at least a glimpse of what lay within the man's heart.

“What do you intend to do once we eliminate our common enemy? Would that not be the same as ceasing to breathe?”

“One cannot remain alive after one stops breathing.”

He meant to die in the end.

“I have grown tired of these questions. I would like to stop. Are there any more?”

“No.”

Ferda rose from his seat. “You would not enjoy having it trumpeted all over town, so I will keep the investiture simple. Before that, could you spare me some time?”

“Time for what?”

“If someone is interested in magical engineering, should I not show it to him?”

He also needed to verify whether Alberto was genuinely interested in magical engineering. Ferda decided to take him to Burnel.

* * *

The research wing of Valdrova Castle. Research and development continued steadily there, and it was famous for its unending explosions and screams.

“Greetings, Lord Regent. And the gentleman beside you is...?”

“Alberto. He is famous as the moving fortress.”

“Oh, is he?”

Burnel's response suggested he had simply accepted that this must be someone important. At the same time, he seemed less than pleased to see an outsider. Every noble he had met had tried to use their status to gain the upper hand over him, and Ureas had recently intensified his aversion.

Ferda glanced up at his head. “You have lost quite a bit more hair.”

“Fortunately, I'm not the only one. This is the suffering we must endure to clear the MIS.”

“MIS?”

“Short for Malcolm Intelligence Standard.”

That was why the screams never ceased at the castle. Malcolm of Peach Hill—a country bumpkin whose knighthood in the Empire remained a mystery even after the reason behind it had come to light. The man who had now become every researcher's nightmare.

All that fool had done in his position as a knight was test weapons. Almost every magical engineering weapon had to meet the requirement that Malcolm be able to operate it, making him an insurmountable obstacle that brought the researchers to tears.

The ideal weapon needed powerful firepower, a simple construction, and a short learning curve for first-time users. Their efforts to reach that ideal were burning as fiercely as their hair follicles.

Of course, Ferda felt no pity as he watched Burnel suffer. The Burnel of the future had already been bald. For now, he still had a fairly full head of hair.

“This is our ambitious new model, the result of constant improvements to the magical engineering rifle. To reduce reloading time, we designed it so that processed, refined mana stones can be loaded and replaced in what we call a magazine. The magic circle also draws power from the magazine, with the goal of firing instantly.”

Recalling what he had read in the reports, Ferda knew they were not merely improving performance. They were keeping production costs down and simplifying the manufacturing process in tandem.

He looked down at the improved rifle. Unlike the original model, with all its dangling attachments, this one was streamlined, with attention paid even to its appearance.

“May I try it?”

“Of course.”

Burnel was brimming with confidence, and rightly so. Ferda's doubts about whether the thing would actually fire proved groundless: he fitted the magazine, pulled the trigger, and a streak of blue shot forward with a sharp report.

The mana stone in a single magazine could fire thirty mana rounds. Removing it was just as simple: press the catch, detach it, and slot in a replacement.

'People who can fire thirty Mana Bullets...'

Even Ferda found the result hard to believe. If each person carried six magazines, then in theory, a single commoner could do the work of thirty-six 1st Circle mages.

Mana stones made by filtering and condensing water contaminated with demonic energy were steadily accumulating in the warehouse, so they had ample power sources as well.

Looking pleased, Ferda glanced to his side. Alberto was staring silently down at the weapon.

“Would you like to try it?”

“...”

After studying it in silence, Alberto picked up the rifle in his enormous hands. He shouldered it and took aim with even greater skill than Ferda.

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

His aim was just as accomplished, striking the bull's-eye shot after shot. The watching researchers could only marvel at his skill.

But he soon set it down on the table as though he had lost interest. “Weak. And light.”

“Well, this... isn't exactly weak... And it isn't all that light for an ordinary person, either...”

Burnel muttered as though he had no regard for his own life. But perhaps sensing the gaze from behind Alberto's helmet, he soon fell silent.

“Our tactical infantry grows more efficient by the day. Is there anything else you can show us?”

“O-of course.”

Unlike the rifle, the next item he presented resembled a small piece of fruit that fit in one hand.

“This is a mana grenade. Like the Mana Bomb spell you are familiar with, Lord Regent, it spreads a shock wave and pure mana throughout the surrounding area.”

This time, Burnel demonstrated it himself. The shock wave spread twenty meters, and mana burst across the area. It looked effective enough to halt agile targets in their tracks.

It seemed valuable as a strategic weapon for the infantry. But Ferda wondered how it measured up by Alberto's standards.

“What about this?”

“Hmm...”

After letting out a breath, Alberto fastened all three sample grenades to his belt.

“You're not supposed to take those...” Burnel muttered under his breath.

Watching him, Ferda understood clearly. What this man needed was a heavy hit—in other words, firepower.

“Could you show us something else? Something with good firepower.”

“Something with good firepower... We do have something, but it's still a beta version, and it isn't very efficient...”

“I doubt that will matter.”

The weapon Burnel brought out resembled the magical engineering rifle. But instead of the current rifle's long, thin barrel, it had short, thick ones—two of them, no less.

Burnel introduced it with these words. “A magical engineering shotgun.”