NOVPUBTo think someone would pull such a stunt behind his back. Even in the midst of his busy schedule, this person had the gall to rake in extra income on the side. Truly a bold one.
Ghislain swallowed hard and asked, “So... an auction, you say? Where would this auction even take place?”
“Hmmm, that’s a secret known only to a select few,” Dominic replied smugly.
“A secret?”
“That’s right. It can’t be disclosed to just anyone. After all, it’s part of the grand plan by Fenris’ Administrator to sell precious memorabilia exclusively to genuine followers. There are always scoundrels who buy things only to resell them at higher prices.”
“I... see. But if you’re holding an auction, does that mean there are that many people buying my stuff?”
“It’s not yours—it’s Count Fenris’ belongings. You impersonators don’t know anything, do you? After Count Fenris defeated Count Desmond, his popularity skyrocketed throughout the kingdom. Some even call him a saint in the capital.”
“Popularity, you say?”
“Of course! It’s no wonder his followers are increasing. You impersonators know far too little. Tsk, tsk.”
Famous dancers and knights across the continent often had hordes of devoted followers.
This popularity also gave rise to countless opportunists who built businesses around them—selling books about their lives, and auctioning off their belongings at exorbitant prices. Their clothing and accessories frequently became instant fashion trends, often provided by trading guilds keen to capitalize on the fame.
Take Meriel in the capital, for example. She dictated the trends among noblewomen with ease. Similarly, Ricardo from Ferdium had gathered a massive following purely with his handsome face.
It wasn’t particularly surprising, then, that Ghislain had followers of his own.
He was aware of his popularity among his subjects, but he hadn’t realized he had such ardent fans.
“Wow... I don’t think I had anything like this in my past life. Was I just oblivious to my own fame?”
In his previous life, Ghislain was one of the Seven Strongest on the continent, known as the Mercenary King. He was certainly famous, but his reputation leaned towards being a bit of an outlaw—something like a renowned bandit.
Nevertheless, it seemed Claude was capitalizing on Ghislain’s fame to generate a tidy stream of side income. And Wendy, aware of it all, had clearly turned a blind eye.
“I’ll need to switch out my guards soon.”
He vaguely recalled hearing complaints about some gold coins going missing. Wendy had turned a blind eye back then, too.
It seemed even someone like Wendy couldn’t help but soften up around Claude over time.
Ghislain ruffled his hair in frustration and asked again, “But seriously, even as fans... why would anyone buy something like that?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious? It’s only natural for a follower. Listening to and watching stories about him is my only source of joy. Of course, I’d want to own some memorabilia too. Tsk, tsk, you’re out there impersonating him without even understanding that?”
Dominic clicked his tongue and lovingly looked over his collection of keepsakes.
Sigh.
“This guy... something about him is dangerous.”
It’s true—you can’t really know someone until you sit down and have an honest conversation with them. Ghislain had seen Dominic in his past life, but he had never guessed his personality was like this.
The Drake Mercenary Corps and Dominic had once fought fiercely against the Mercenary King’s army.
Back then, Dominic, under the leash of House Rodrik, had no choice but to clash with Ghislain.
Despite that, his spirit and skills were undeniably impressive, earning even Ghislain’s respect. The Drake Mercenary Corps was stronger than most royal armies, and Dominic was both an exceptional warrior and commander.
During the civil war, the Drake Mercenary Corps often spearheaded battles, largely because House Rodrik treated them as expendable pawns. Even the marquisate itself was stunned by the mercenaries’ combat prowess.
And yet, the commander of such a formidable group turned out to be someone utterly obsessed with memorabilia.
Dominic carefully packed his collection back into its box, his hands well-practiced from showing them off whenever Count Fenris came up in conversation. True collectors couldn’t resist bragging about their treasures.
As soon as he finished, Dominic returned to his sharp, commanding demeanor and said, “Now, do you understand why I don’t trust you? I know more about Count Fenris than anyone here. No one in this place knows him better than I do.”
“Hm,” Ghislain hummed, nodding a few times. A man who obsessively collected clothes worn by others certainly had to be passionate. With this level of dedication, Ghislain couldn’t deny his authenticity.
It was ridiculous, but not something he could dismiss lightly. He even understood why Dominic was so drawn to collecting.
Dominic was bound by chains he couldn’t escape. His family held hostage, he couldn’t leave. There was nothing he could do.
It was only natural for someone in his position to seek solace in something. To find something that could soothe his weary heart and help him escape from reality.
And people like that often projected their deepest desires onto the object of their obsession.
―I want to be like him.
Ghislain, once known as the Northern Scoundrel, a man who didn’t care about others’ opinions, a man who forged his own path through sheer force, and ultimately defeated the mighty Northern Overlord—perhaps Dominic hoped this hero could shatter the miserable reality he found himself in.
And now, that very hero had come to him, aware of his plight.
Yet Dominic, unaware of the truth, looked at him with a cold expression and said, “If you’ve been impersonating my hero and causing a ruckus here, you’ll need to pay the price.”
Drawing his sword, he exuded a fierce aura befitting the commander of the West’s largest mercenary corps. His subordinates surrounded Ghislain’s party with grim faces, while dozens more gathered outside, ready to join in.
Surveying the scene, Ghislain turned to Dominic and asked, “What’s so great about him?”
“What do you mean?”
“The owner of your keepsakes. What makes him so great?”
At this, Dominic smirked and answered, “The best thing is his recklessness.”
“Recklessness?”
“Yes. When everyone else is afraid, when everyone else opposes him, when everyone else tries to stop him, he pushes through without hesitation. That’s what I admire most.”
“Your tastes are... unique. Others didn’t seem to like that about him.”
“I can’t live like that,” Dominic admitted, a mix of bitterness and longing in his voice.
It was clear—he wanted to live that way but couldn’t. He lacked the strength and conviction to do so.
With a self-deprecating shake of his head, Dominic pointed his sword at Ghislain and said, “Take care of this impostor. Don’t kill him—just rough him up and send him packing.”
“If you admire that so much, I’ll show you. I’m not a fan of empty words.”
“What?”
Thwack!
With a sly grin, Ghislain swung his fist, sending the nearest mercenary sprawling with a bloody nose.
“Don’t kill them. They’re all going to be on our side soon enough.”
At his words, the knights swiftly drew short rods from their belts. The rods, made of galvanium, were special restraining tools.
Bzzzzzz!
A blue glow emanated from the rods, startling the mercenaries.
“Is... is that mana?”
“They’re knights?”
“Attack them before they form up!”
Outnumbering the knights, the mercenaries charged with the confidence of seasoned fighters. They rushed in to disrupt the knights’ formation before they could establish it.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
“Gahhh!”
Mercenaries fell one after another, but the cramped space prevented the knights from forming an effective formation. Skilled mercenaries quickly exploited the gaps.
“Gotcha!”
Some mercenaries tackled the knights, forcing them to the ground.
“Hey! Get off me!”
“Just crush them!”
The chaos escalated, with both sides shouting and flailing. More mercenaries with clubs began flooding in from outside.
Boom!
The pinned knights finally unleashed their mana, surprising the mercenaries with a sudden burst of strength.
“Ugh! What the hell?”
Despite their increased strength, the knights held back to avoid killing their opponents. Yet if they held back too much, downed mercenaries would get back up again. The relentless assault left the knights struggling.
Ghislain clicked his tongue as he fended off the attacking mercenaries. 𝖓𝖔𝖛𝔭𝖚𝖇.𝔠𝖔𝔪
“Tsk, tsk. Why are they still so sloppy?”
"No Matter How Hard They Train, It's Still Not Enough"
Despite all the training and drills, they still don’t meet my expectations. Give them even the smallest moment of idleness, and they grow complacent. I can't trust them to maintain discipline.
“We’ll have to wrap this up quickly,” Ghislain muttered as he stomped on the ground with enough force to shake the building.
Boom!
“Urgh!”
A deep footprint was left in the ground, and the entire structure trembled. Both mercenaries and knights alike stumbled and fell.
The only one who managed to stay standing—though unsteadily—was Dominic.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Ghislain moved swiftly, striking the back of the mercenaries’ heads one by one.
Thud!
“Gah!”
Thwack!
“Urk!”
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Every strike sent a mercenary crashing to the floor, unconscious. Those who had no mana training were rendered defenseless against his blows.
Ghislain’s mastery of mana control was still as sharp as in his previous life. Knocking someone unconscious without killing them was an easy task for him.
Even the mighty Drake Mercenary Corps, despite their strength, had few members outside their officers who were properly trained in mana.
“Block the door!” Ghislain commanded after knocking out the remaining mercenaries in the room.
The knights quickly moved to barricade the broken doorway. Although more mercenaries tried to force their way in, the narrow entrance made it difficult to get past the knights.
Dominic watched the scene unfold, disbelief written all over his face.
“K-Knights? Why are there knights here?”
They looked like low-ranking knights, but they were using mana. The supposed impostor’s skill level was also so high that Dominic couldn’t even fathom it.
His mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Was Marquis Martin planning to eliminate them? But what about the hostages? Or was this the work of another noble with a grudge against Martin? Could it be one of the other heirs of House Rodrik, vying for succession?
While Dominic was paralyzed with confusion, Ghislain suddenly extended his hand.
“Throw away these useless trinkets. I’ll give you something better. Honestly, this is starting to irritate me.”
With a flick of Ghislain’s hand, the lid of Dominic’s keepsake box flew open, and its contents began to float in the air, drawn toward him.
“What?! W-What are you doing?” Dominic reflexively reached out, trying to grab the levitating items. How could they move on their own like that?
A memory from The Chronicles of Count Fenris surfaced in his mind—Count Fenris was said to have the ability to freely manipulate objects around him.
“W-Wait!” Dominic stammered. He needed to confirm what was happening before it was too late.
But Ghislain ignored his pleas. Clenching his fist, he focused on the floating keepsakes.
Sensing what was about to happen, Dominic cried out in desperation.
“No, stop!”
“It’s done.”
Crunch!
The keepsakes were torn to shreds in an instant, their fragments falling to the floor in a pitiful heap. Dominic watched, horrified, as his prized possessions were destroyed.
“You bastard! How dare you destroy my precious belongings!” Dominic howled.
Those items weren’t just memorabilia to him. They were a refuge, the only solace he had during his moments of exhaustion and despair.
Ghislain had no understanding of the heart of a collector, of the deep attachment and comfort those keepsakes provided. He had casually obliterated treasures that Dominic had poured immense time and money into acquiring.
“Die!” Dominic roared, blinded by rage as he charged at Ghislain with his sword, swinging it with deadly precision.
Swoosh!
The strike was fast and clean, better than what most knights of Fenris could manage. Even Ghislain had to admit, with a touch of admiration, that Dominic’s skill was impressive.
But it wasn’t enough.
“You’re drunk on anger. Sleep it off. We’ll talk when your head is clearer.”
Thwack!
Ghislain dodged effortlessly and delivered a powerful punch to Dominic’s temple.
“Ugh...”
For the first time in his life, Dominic experienced such a devastating impact. One blow was all it took to leave him dizzy and disoriented.
“Ah... everything’s spinning.”
He could hardly believe he was being knocked out by a single punch.
As Dominic’s vision blurred and his body began to collapse, the last thing he saw was the crimson glow emanating from Ghislain’s eyes.
“...It was real.”
With that final murmur, Dominic fell unconscious to the ground.
