NOVPUBClaude stepped forward as the group’s representative and asked,
“What kind of training is this?”
The lord’s training methods were peculiar enough already—now he wanted help? Ghislain had always trained alone, except for the occasional sparring session with Gillian.
Ghislain replied casually, as if it were no big deal,
“Just continue with your usual tasks, but instruct the knights to ambush me whenever possible. I won’t retaliate, nor will I hold anyone accountable for attacking me. However, limit your mana usage to the minimum—or don’t use it at all. Naturally, I won’t be using mana either.”
The room went silent. The suggestion sounded completely insane.
Breaking the silence, Belinda asked,
“Young Master, what exactly are you trying to achieve with this training?”
“It’s part of the regimen I’ve been working on,” Ghislain explained. “To put it simply, I want to improve my body’s natural defenses by enduring attacks.”
“...Normally, that kind of training leads to long-term injuries. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’ll be fine. You’re aware of my recovery rate. This is just a slight increase in training intensity.”
“Don’t do it,” Belinda urged. “Getting attacked without properly using mana is dangerous.”
At a certain level of skill, a person’s body naturally became fortified with mana, even if they weren’t consciously channeling it. This passive enhancement sharpened reflexes and improved physical abilities. Someone like Ghislain, who had mana reserves far exceeding ordinary knights, benefited from this effect even without effort.
However, even his body had limits. Human skin wasn’t steel, and without actively channeling mana, it couldn’t withstand genuine weapons.
Despite Belinda’s protests, Ghislain shook his head.
“No, this is necessary for me. It won’t take long—just a few days.”
“And why exactly is this necessary?”
“I feel like I’m on the verge of reaching a new level. Just a bit more, and I think I can naturally block attacks from a low-tier knight’s mana-infused strikes.”
Ghislain’s current training had reached a bottleneck. He could instinctively deflect strikes when attacking himself, but only because he anticipated his own moves. His body reacted preemptively, pooling mana to the targeted areas before the strike landed.
‘This won’t do. Reacting to what I already know is pointless.’
His ultimate goal was to reflexively block and counter even surprise attacks. Though he had considered using contraptions built by dwarves, their fixed patterns made them unsuitable for his needs. The best training was real combat—or at least something that closely resembled it.
Belinda sighed at the absurdity of his methods.
“Can’t you at least prioritize your safety? Do you really think anyone here will comfortably attack you, the lord of this land?”
“Quite a few, I’d imagine.”
Claude nodded in agreement, but Belinda stood firm.
“No! I won’t allow it! If you end up with so much as a scratch, I’ll make sure someone pays. Understood?”
Ghislain smirked, responding playfully,
“Why don’t you give it a try, Belinda? If you manage to injure me, I’ll buy you that ‘Charnel’ you’ve been eyeing.”
“Stop joking about dangerous things, Young Master!”
Whoosh!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Dozens of daggers flew from Belinda’s hands in an instant, their speed and precision forcing Ghislain to hastily summon mana. The attack was so fierce that he had no choice but to counter it.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Some daggers he deflected with his hands, others he avoided by stepping back. When the flurry of blades finally subsided, Ghislain stared at Belinda in disbelief.
Belinda turned her head slightly and muttered,
“I wasn’t... really aiming for you. It’s just... you weren’t listening, and I got a little angry... Definitely not because I wanted that thing...”
"..."
By sheer coincidence, Belinda had initiated the first attack. With that, any lingering objections from the others evaporated.
Clearing his throat, Ghislain turned to Gillian.
“Have them take turns attacking me; we’ll organize it alongside their regular training. Choose a few participants each day, and offer a reward of gold coins for anyone who manages to injure me properly.”
“...Understood,” Gillian replied, exhaling a resigned sigh. He had briefly considered trying to dissuade Ghislain but knew it would be futile.
Thus began the "Lord Ambush Training."
Initially, the knights hesitated, but they quickly grew enthusiastic. Ghislain truly didn’t retaliate, dodging only the most dangerous strikes and deliberately absorbing weaker hits. To further challenge himself, he suppressed his mana to the bare minimum.
Unsurprisingly, even someone of Ghislain’s caliber ended up with his fair share of injuries. Those who succeeded in wounding him were immediately rewarded, creating a powerful incentive.
The results?
“Here comes my gold coin!”
“Today’s my turn to claim victory!”
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to beat up the lord!”
Some knights clearly mixed personal grievances into their strikes, but the promise of gold ensured all of them gave it their best effort.
Each knight was only permitted one ambush per day, leading to increasingly creative tactics. Soon, they began acting like assassins—scouting Ghislain’s routes, setting up ambushes, and even attacking during meetings.
“This has been unexpectedly beneficial,” Ghislain mused with a smile. The knights’ dedication to stealth and strategy had significantly improved their skills. Their newfound seriousness had even prompted collaborative planning sessions to exchange tips and strategies.
For Ghislain, this was ideal. The goal of his training was to block unseen attacks without conscious thought.
‘I need to dull my senses even further.’
The biggest obstacle was his own heightened perception. His exceptional skills allowed him to sense hidden opponents, diminishing the effectiveness of their ambushes. To counter this, he deliberately suppressed his awareness to create a more challenging environment.
Swish!
Suddenly, Gordon appeared from the shadows, slashing Ghislain’s arm with a practice blade.
“Heh, pretty good, right?” Gordon said with a grin.
“Hm, not bad,” Ghislain admitted, inspecting the shallow cut.
“Since I drew blood, you owe me my reward,” Gordon added eagerly.
“Alright. Keep at it.”
‘Heh, nailed it,’ Gordon thought triumphantly.
Although the knights were supposed to suppress their mana, many secretly infused it into their attacks to improve their chances of success. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Ghislain to avoid injuries, but he let it slide.
As the knights intensified their use of mana, Ghislain’s body struggled to keep up. He couldn’t completely suppress the damage from more powerful strikes.
‘My body needs to react faster.’
When he consciously heightened his senses, there was no issue. He could dodge strikes before they landed or use mana to deflect them. However, in his deliberately dulled state, there were still limits.
If an attack exceeded a certain threshold, his body couldn’t respond quickly enough.
‘Perhaps I need to raise the intensity again.’
For now, the training was showing results. The knights’ relentless ambushes had pushed his body closer to the edge, forcing it to adapt.
Lost in thought, Ghislain wandered the castle, considering ways to increase the difficulty.
One day, as he strolled through the corridors, someone blocked his path.
“What is it?” he asked.
It was Ascon, his expression unusually smug.
“May I take a shot at you?”
“You? You don’t even know how to use mana,” Ghislain replied skeptically.
At this point, ordinary attacks had little effect. Even with his mana suppressed, an unenhanced blade would do little more than scratch the surface of his skin.
That kind of attack wouldn't provoke a strong enough survival response to push Ghislain’s body to evolve. But Ascon, unwilling to back down, pressed further.
"Why do only the knights get a chance? I’d like to try as well!"
Ghislain smirked.
"Fine. Give it a shot."
"You’re serious?"
"Yes, I’m serious."
"In that case, I’ll attack mentally," Ascon declared, an ominous grin spreading across his face.
"...What?"
Before Ghislain could react, Ascon began spewing a torrent of verbal abuse.
"You bastard! Because of you, I’ve been eating nothing but that powdery garbage, nearly starving to death! F— your whole family! You—worthless piece of sh—! You half-brained lunatic! Today’s the day you—!"
"..."
Ghislain’s expression froze in disbelief as the endless stream of profanities filled the air. Ascon’s tirade carried a strange undertone of genuine grievance, as though he were venting his pent-up frustrations.
Before Ghislain could respond, Belinda stormed in, her face darkened with fury, having overheard everything.
"Guards!" she snapped, her voice cold as ice.
Ascon barely had time to shout "Sh—!" before being dragged off by the soldiers and thrown into the dungeon.
Ghislain, unfazed by the incident, continued his training regimen as though nothing had happened. However, as progress slowed, he decided to increase the difficulty. The number of participants allowed to ambush him was expanded, the daily attack limit was raised, and restrictions on mana usage were loosened.
The knights responded enthusiastically, escalating their efforts to strike him.
Ghislain endured even more dangerous assaults without flinching. On several occasions, he was severely injured, including one instance where his arm was nearly severed.
"Young Master! Please stop this madness!" Belinda pleaded.
"My Lord, this is growing far too dangerous!"
"This isn’t training anymore; it’s self-destruction!"
His retainers were deeply concerned. Ghislain’s body was riddled with scars, and his wounds healed more slowly with each passing day.
But Ghislain was immovable.
"No. I’m finally starting to feel the breakthrough."
His body was changing in ways he couldn’t ignore. Ever since he had been stabbed in the heart during training, his body had begun maintaining a heightened state of tension. With each attack, his mana surged to defend the impacted area faster and faster, even without conscious effort.
His senses had sharpened to an extraordinary degree. Despite deliberately suppressing them, they had become far keener than ever before.
And then, something unexpected happened.
‘This...’
Facing daily injuries and repeated brushes with death, his body adapted in remarkable ways. The speed at which mana moved from his core had hit a natural limit, so his body began circulating mana throughout itself preemptively.
Without conscious effort, Ghislain’s body now mimicked the effects of activating a first-stage core at all times.
‘I can’t believe this actually worked.’
It was a technique Ghislain had conceptualized long ago but dismissed as impractical.
Sustaining a constant flow of mana across the entire body naturally drained reserves, requiring either focused cultivation or prolonged rest to replenish. Even someone as skilled as Ghislain could only recover mana incrementally through breathing techniques. Ultimately, the effort would lead to total depletion.
‘I thought I’d only be able to improve reaction times, but...’
Now, his body autonomously maintained a basic defensive state, even replenishing its mana slightly by passively absorbing energy from the surroundings.
This was a level of adaptation he had never expected.
‘If I refine this further, I might even surpass the limits of my previous life.’
In his previous life, Ghislain had reached the pinnacle of the continent’s warriors, boasting five cores—a feat that placed him among the continent’s seven strongest. But the creation of additional cores brought tremendous physical strain and exponentially increased mana consumption.
Yet, with this newfound revelation, Ghislain believed he could push those boundaries further.
"Good."
A satisfied smile spread across his face. What began as an impulsive experiment had become the foundation for a potential new breakthrough.
With his body acclimating to the constant activation of a first-stage core, the results were astounding.
One day, ten knights ambushed him from all sides, their swords glowing faintly blue with mana.
The attacks, representative of a low-tier knight’s power, should have been enough to leave Ghislain bruised and battered, especially since he wasn’t actively channeling his mana.
But this time, something unexpected happened.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of steel striking steel rang out.
"...?"
The knights froze, staring in disbelief.
Their swords had hit Ghislain’s body, yet the sound was as if they had struck iron.
"What... what’s going on?"
"How is this possible?"
"Did you cheat? You said you weren’t using mana!"
Ghislain glanced down at his body, then nodded with satisfaction.
"Hmm. Looks like this is good enough for now."
Even without consciously activating his mana, his body maintained a first-stage core state. The knights’ low-tier attacks couldn’t penetrate his skin.
Of course, the knights hadn’t gone all out. If they had unleashed their full strength, they could have injured him.
"From today onward, the ambush training is over."
The knights were visibly disappointed by the announcement.
‘Ah, the extra income was nice while it lasted.’
‘I could’ve used a bit more time to refine my technique.’
‘Hitting the lord was oddly satisfying.’
Despite their grumbles, most of the knights were awed. Watching Ghislain walk away, they shared a single thought.
‘He’s becoming a monster.’
They had dismissed his methods as madness, but seeing the results made them reconsider. A few even wondered if they should try it themselves, though they quickly shook their heads.
Only Ghislain could endure such a brutal training regimen.
Meanwhile, the development of Fenris territory continued smoothly. There was always work to be done, but the retainers were experienced, and the projects progressed without issue.
They demolished old residential areas, integrated villages, and fortified strongholds. Workshops were expanded, and plans were made to utilize Desmond’s abundant resources more efficiently.
Road construction was underway, accelerating resource movement and exponentially increasing the pace of development.
But not everything was perfect.
Claude, buried under a mountain of paperwork, groaned.
"Ugh... we still don’t have enough administrators."
Most of Desmond’s retainers had been executed. While a few competent low-level officials had been identified through rigorous vetting, there simply weren’t enough people to manage such a vast territory.
"Where am I supposed to find more?"
Rumors about Claude’s recruitment practices had spread through Seiron Academy, making it unlikely he’d be able to draw talent from there again.
"For now, we can’t take on any more work," Claude muttered. "We’re already stretched too thin."
Just as he was beginning to feel a bit relieved at the relative stability, Ghislain burst into the room.
"It’s time to start something new."
"..."
"We’re establishing the Fenris Magical Research Institute and forming a mage battalion."
Claude’s face twisted in despair.
