NOVPUB"Sir Overseer, it's time," Wendy said, prompting Claude to nod.
"Alright, let's go."
Finally, the day of reckoning had arrived—the day of the mock battle. By now, the participants would be starving and utterly exhausted, having been fed nothing but water and that strange powder for their meals.
Claude strode forward with a confident expression. His destination was a massive arena located within Desmond’s territory—a facility so grand that only a territory as vast as Desmond’s could afford to house such an extravagant structure. The gladiator arena, typically used for battles between slaves, was a rare sight outside of such powerful domains.
Ghislain had arrived earlier and waved as Claude approached.
"That smug look on your face—overflowing with confidence, aren’t you?" Ghislain remarked.
"Why shouldn’t I be? There’s no reason to be nervous about a game where victory is guaranteed," Claude replied with a grin.
"Didn’t you eat your words last time?"
"Well, that’s different."
"..."
Indeed, someone like Claude, who had nothing left to lose, could afford such unshakable confidence.
The spectators began to gather in the stands, consisting of the territory’s prominent figures. Once the crowd was sufficiently assembled, Claude raised his hand.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
A gate on one side of the arena opened, and 200 soldiers marched out in perfect formation. Each carried a wooden shield and a club made of bundled straw. Since fatalities were to be avoided, the weapons were non-lethal. However, despite their straw construction, a strike from those clubs would still hurt significantly.
These were the soldiers Claude had been training for the past month.
Seeing them, Ghislain’s lips curled into a subtle smile.
"So this is what you’ve been up to? Not bad. You prepared well."
"Of course. I personally oversaw their training."
Claude had handpicked only the strongest and most physically imposing individuals for this task. He ensured they were provided with the best diet, optimal training regimens, and ample rest. On top of that, he even pressured Piote into using his divine powers to keep them in peak condition at all times.
Claude wasn’t one to rely solely on mental grit and determination. Utilizing every ounce of his knowledge, he had turned a group of soldiers into a finely tuned elite force in a mere month.
Ghislain nodded as he observed the soldiers.
"That man... He’s competent, no doubt. It’s just a shame he’s such an idiot about everything else."
Managing affairs in the territory was demanding enough, but to cultivate soldiers like this in just one month was a testament to Claude’s determination to win the wager. His resolve was palpable in the faces of his troops.
Claude, too, couldn’t help but grin as he surveyed his soldiers.
"This time, things are entirely different."
In previous wagers, he had been a mere observer, unable to influence the outcome. But now, with his handpicked soldiers, he could shape the battlefield. The terms of this wager were simple: whichever side won the battle would emerge victorious.
Though Claude didn’t believe the starved participants would pose much of a threat, he had prepared thoroughly nonetheless, instructing his soldiers to beat their opponents to submission.
Once Claude’s soldiers had formed their lines, Ghislain gestured toward the opposite gate.
Creak...
The gate slowly opened, but nothing emerged at first. The crowd craned their necks, peering into the darkness beyond.
"Uuurrgh..."
Finally, after a long pause, figures began to stagger out—emaciated participants reduced to little more than walking corpses after surviving on nothing but water and powder for a month.
There were only 10 knights, 20 elves, and 20 soldiers—far fewer than Claude’s 200 men. The reduced numbers were to account for the knights’ inclusion.
The participants, wielding nothing but straw clubs, abandoned their shields, deeming them too heavy to carry.
Seeing their pitiful state, Claude smirked.
"Ha! They’re practically zombies now. No way they’ll have any strength left after starving for a month."
The participants were visibly thinner, their eyes hollow and gait unsteady. Gordon, in particular, once grotesquely muscular, now seemed more refined—almost dashing.
Unlike Claude, who was grinning with confidence, Belinda’s sharp eyes glimmered with intrigue.
"Their muscles haven’t shrunk as much as expected. And their eyes—they’re still alive."
As an assassin with unmatched perception, she quickly assessed their condition. Despite their exhaustion, their bodies seemed honed, stripped of excess fat. It was as if they had intentionally used their ordeal to cut weight and sharpen themselves. Their eyes burned with something primal—raw, seething anger.
Ghislain raised his hand again, and Gillian’s booming voice echoed through the arena.
"Begin!"
Thud!
Claude’s soldiers braced themselves, shields raised. Their orders were simple: hold the line and stall until the opponents were too exhausted to continue. Even with knights among the participants, Claude was confident they could hold their ground against the starved and weakened foes.
But that assumption proved to be a grave miscalculation.
"Out of my way!" Gordon bellowed, swinging his straw club with explosive force.
BAM!
A soldier blocking the way was sent flying, coughing up air. Lucas and the knights charged in behind Gordon, their clubs smashing into Claude’s troops.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The sound of impact was far too intense for weapons made of straw. The knights’ clubs glowed faintly with a bluish light.
Claude shot to his feet, panic written across his face.
"What the hell?! How are they still this energetic? How are they even using mana?!"
While it was true that those who could manipulate mana were more resilient than those who couldn’t, a month of starvation should have significantly depleted their reserves. Yet the knights showed no signs of weakness.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
With ten knights rampaging through the battlefield, even Claude’s well-trained soldiers struggled to hold the line. Despite their own training and strength, they were up against not just knights but elves and enraged soldiers as well.
"You bastards!" Ascon roared, launching himself at the soldiers with wild, bloodshot eyes.
"You sons of b—! F— you, f—ing d—heads, f—ing cowards!"
He was utterly unhinged, throwing insults and blows in equal measure.
The air filled with an unending torrent of vulgar insults, including slurs against the soldiers’ families. Enraged, the soldiers retaliated with even greater force, swinging their clubs with all their might.
“Just die already!”
“Give me food!”
“Aaaargh!”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Both sides descended into a frenzy, hurling themselves into a brutal melee.
While the knights were undoubtedly more skilled, the soldiers weren’t easy opponents. Their sheer physical strength and numbers allowed them to hold their ground. If real swords had been used, the knights, empowered by mana, would have easily overwhelmed the soldiers. But with their only weapons being straw clubs enhanced by mana, the advantage wasn’t as pronounced. Meanwhile, the soldiers were heavily armored, making it difficult for even the knights to deal a decisive blow.
Ultimately, the two sides resorted to intense close-quarters combat.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“Aaaaargh!”
Screams echoed throughout the chaotic arena.
Though the knights were vastly outnumbered, they steadily advanced, taking down one soldier at a time. The elves and other soldiers trailing behind them contributed in their own way, drawing attention and providing support.
Claude observed the carnage with a cold expression.
"..."
While the knights hadn’t broken through the formation entirely, the outcome was becoming clear. If they had been equipped with proper weapons and armor, Claude’s soldiers would’ve suffered severe casualties by now.
Ghislain, watching Claude intently, allowed a sly grin to spread across his face.
"Well, I’d say this test is conclusive enough, wouldn’t you?"
Claude remained silent, his face darkening. Suddenly, he jumped to his feet and bellowed,
"Stop them! Block them! Don’t let them through!"
The only way left to win was to stubbornly argue the results. No matter how well they fought, if the participants couldn’t break through the soldiers’ formation and reach the food, it would mean their combat effectiveness had diminished.
After all, the wager wasn’t about whether they could fight; it was about whether they could push through the soldiers and claim the food.
Claude’s soldiers fought with renewed determination, knowing they stood to receive generous rewards if they held the line. Meanwhile, Alpoi, the mages, Max, and the problem-solvers looked on anxiously, sweat dripping down their pale faces.
Despite their efforts, it seemed inevitable that the soldiers would be overrun.
Desperate, the so-called “Man Who Defied God,” Alpoi, clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and cried out,
"Please, goddess! Please, help us!"
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“Raaaaagh!”
Gordon and Lucas were relentless, unleashing all their pent-up frustration. They had endured starvation and torment, but now, they could release it all.
After all, getting hit by straw clubs was something they could endure.
"Y-you bastards! F—! Your mothers! F— this!"
Ascon, already battered and sprawled on the ground, continued hurling insults while clutching his head. The elves and soldiers had also mostly fallen. No matter how resilient they were, they couldn’t handle 200 elite troops alone.
However, they had done their job by diverting attention and slowing down the soldiers, allowing the knights to knock out over half of the opposing force.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
The knights pushed forward, smashing through with their straw clubs. For warriors like them, hardened by countless real battles alongside Ghislain, this felt like child’s play. They eventually began wrapping themselves in mana, forcing their way through with brute strength, ignoring the pain of the soldiers’ counterattacks.
Thud!
As Lucas swung his club one final time, he realized the path ahead was clear.
"We broke through."
The soldiers in their way had all fallen. While a few stragglers remained, the knights had pierced the formation, effectively ending the mock battle.
Following Lucas, the knights threw down their clubs and shouted triumphantly.
"We’ve won!"
"Hahaha!"
"That food is ours!"
The knights sprinted toward the banquet laid out for the victors—an array of meats, fruits, and even alcohol, a feast to reward their efforts.
As they ravenously devoured the food, Claude murmured to himself in disbelief,
"This doesn’t make sense. I tried it myself, and I was starving after just one day. How did they survive on that for a month? And still fight like that?"
Ghislain chuckled internally as he observed Claude’s bewilderment.
The researchers and mages of the past, who had developed the experimental rations, focused on portability and sustaining energy over long periods. While the food left the stomach feeling slightly empty, it provided sufficient nutrients for prolonged activity.
It lacked the pleasure of eating, and consuming it repeatedly became monotonous, but on a battlefield, it was an exceptional source of sustenance.
What mattered in war wasn’t fullness but the ability to maintain extreme tension and stamina. Claude, unfamiliar with such battlefield realities, had made the mistake of judging by civilian standards. Even if he had understood its value, it was unlikely he would have lasted a month eating only that food.
Ghislain tapped the dazed Claude on the shoulder and said,
"So, what do you think? Looks like this duel is over."
Claude glanced around, his gaze meeting the expectant faces of the crowd. Everyone seemed to be waiting for his concession.
"Hah..."
Letting out a long sigh, Claude stared up at the sky for a moment before forcing a self-deprecating smile.
"Well, I guess there’s no helping it. Lord Ghislain has triumphed yet again. Where on earth do you learn all these tricks?"
Defeated, Claude had no choice but to accept the result.
After all... this was the nature of a true gambler.
"Alright, fine. I’ve lost."
Despite his loss, Claude seemed surprisingly at peace. With nothing to lose, he felt a strange sense of freedom.
"Ah... ahhh..."
Meanwhile, Alpoi, the mages, Max, and the problem-solvers were trembling in shock, uttering incoherent noises.
Max and the problem-solvers had bet 30 years of their lives, while the mages, counting their previous losses, faced a staggering 60 years of servitude. For them, survival beyond those 60 years seemed like a miracle.
All they could do was gape at Claude in stunned silence.
Meeting their gazes, Claude offered a wry smile and shook his head as if to say, "It is what it is." Then, extending his fist toward Alpoi, he said,
"Even though I lost, it was a great fight. Don’t you agree, bro?"
"Ah... uh..."
Alpoi weakly raised his trembling hand, seemingly wishing to cast a spell, but his body refused to cooperate.
"Uh... urgh..."
He wanted nothing more than to hurl a fireball at that grinning face.
"You... bast—"
Before he could finish, Alpoi collapsed unconscious.
The experimental combat rations were officially deemed a success.
The ability to endure without supply lines or delayed provisions would undoubtedly prove to be a massive advantage in future wars.
Everyone began to shower Ghislain with praise.
"Amazing! As expected of Lord Ghislain!"
"This will expand our operational range tremendously during war!"
"It’s perfect as emergency rations for critical situations!"
Nodding, Ghislain gave his next order.
"Establish combat ration production facilities throughout the territory. Once we have sufficient quantities, distribute some to the citizens as emergency provisions. Also, conduct research on shelf life and storage methods to ensure quality preservation. They should last for years, but proper storage could extend that even further."
"Understood."
Although it added to their workload, the retainers didn’t object. The value of this innovation was undeniable.
Claude clapped enthusiastically.
"Truly remarkable! Our lord is nothing short of extraordinary!"
"...Right."
Ghislain glanced at the unusually carefree Claude, shook his head, and addressed everyone.
"Now then, it’s time for all of you to help with my training."
The sudden announcement left everyone wide-eyed with surprise.
