Chapter 310: That was Truly a Magnificent Battle, Wasn’t it?(1)
I skimmed through the novel Gordon had written, only casually reading it. However, a particular concept within its pages stuck with me.
“An attacker who leaves no trace of their presence and remains completely invisible…”
If the skill gap is overwhelming, such a thing could be possible. But according to Gordon’s premise, this ability wasn’t tied to mere skill. It bordered on being a form of divine authority. In some ways, it seemed even more dangerous than “the power to destroy anything.”
The thought of it alone was terrifying, but realistically speaking, such a thing was impossible. It was nothing more than a figment of imagination a concept that could only exist in the realm of fantasy.
“Even the Holy Maiden never wielded such an ability.”
Not even the Holy Maiden, who borrowed the authority of the goddess, could perform something so ludicrous.
Most would have laughed it off and moved on, but I found myself harboring a spark of curiosity.
“What would I do if I ever encountered an enemy with such a power? Or someone possessing a similar ability?”
If I had reached the peak of my abilities in my previous life, I would have dealt with it by extending my sensory domain to encompass my surroundings. But what if I still couldn’t detect them?
Even if such authority didn’t exist, encountering someone more skilled than me might result in a similar situation.
“I need a way to avoid instant death and counterattack.”
To avoid instant death, I would need a body that could endure any attack.
Those who train in mana naturally develop enhanced physical abilities. Through constant practice, the body gradually absorbs mana, transforming its constitution.
The higher one’s level of mastery, the sharper their senses become, and the stronger their physical capabilities, such as strength and recovery, grow.
Still, a human body wouldn’t become as hard as steel. That’s why knights utilize mana circulation techniques to concentrate mana within their bodies when fighting. It’s also why they surround their bodies with mana in battle.
To unleash greater power, one must actively draw mana from the core and channel it through the body. Without proper mana control, defensive capabilities could significantly weaken.
Even those who wield mana could be injured by the attacks of ordinary people if they let their guard down.
This vulnerability occasionally allowed assassinations to succeed, even against mana users, because a single critical strike could deliver a fatal wound.
“But what if my body could instinctively block attacks and, in turn, deliver a countershock to the enemy?”
At the very least, I wouldn’t be caught off guard by someone of equal or lower skill. It would also be a significant advantage in chaotic skirmishes involving multiple opponents.
No matter how many weaker enemies gathered, they wouldn’t be able to inflict even a scratch on me.
If I could develop such a body, I would become much stronger than I am now.
“Let’s do it.”
There are several approaches to creating a new technique.
The most standard method is to develop a theory through extensive research and then refine it through countless safe experiments.
The second method is to recklessly dive into the process, risking everything. It’s dangerous but faster.
I preferred the latter.
Swish.
Pulling out a dagger, I immediately stabbed my own arm.
Thuck!
Blood spurted from the wound where the blade penetrated. As it struck, a faint ripple of mana gathered at the point of impact, offering weak resistance but it wasn’t enough.
The force of the attack was stronger, and the speed was too fast.
“Too slow, and too weak.”
The body needed to respond automatically, even before detection. The moment the surface of my skin was breached, mana from my core had to flow out instinctively to protect my body.
That would be the first step. Counterattacking could be considered later.
Ssssss…
Perhaps because the wound was shallow, it healed quickly.
I heightened my senses to their limit. My body needed to remember everything I was about to do from this point onward.
In my previous life, I suffered countless wounds, but I had never undergone such a brutish form of training. Back then, I had focused more on evading and blocking attacks.
This time, it was different. I needed to evolve my body itself.
“Let’s increase the intensity.”
Papatapatap!
I slashed my body rapidly with the dagger, creating multiple wounds. I then focused my senses on the areas surrounding the injuries.
The amount of mana drawn to each wound varied subtly. As I continued, the wounds began to deepen slightly.
This was proof that my body’s reaction speed was still lagging behind the speed of the attacks.
“I’ll need to keep at this for a few more days.”
Ghislain didn’t even need to go to the training hall for his practice. During the day, he managed the fieldwork or trained. At night, while handling paperwork in his office, he repeatedly stabbed himself.
After several days of torn, pierced, and blood-soaked clothing, Belinda began to grow suspicious.
“What’s going on? Even on days without sparring, he’s like this?”
Everyone knew Ghislain was a training fanatic. Because of that, no one found it odd when his clothes were frequently damaged. But recently, things seemed unusually strange.
While Belinda harbored suspicions, Ghislain’s training grew increasingly intense.
“Am I hesitating unconsciously?”
After days of self-inflicted wounds, his senses had become incomparably sharper. Even deep stabs ended up as minor scratches the moment the blade pierced his skin, thanks to mana gathering instantly at the impact site.
However, his reaction speed plateaued. No matter how much he tried, it wasn’t improving.
It seemed the issue lay with the limitations of his attacks.
Because his body wasn’t yet capable of keeping up, he was still holding back to the level of a novice knight. His body instinctively recognized the risks and refused to push past its limits.
Ghislain knew how to solve this problem.
“To surpass my limits, I must truly risk my life.”
Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the dagger before imbuing it with mana.
He couldn’t allow himself to actually die, but his body and mind had to feel the mortal danger as though he could.
“This should do…”
Cold sweat began trickling down Ghislain’s back. If he made even a small mistake or if his body reacted too slowly, he would die.
He had no intention of artificially drawing out mana to block the attack. The moment the blade struck, his body had to move on its own to survive.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly raised the dagger.
And just then, Belinda, who had been watching him with growing suspicion over the past few days, barged into his office.
Clatter!
“Young Lord! What in the world are you doing every night that your clothes look like this kyaaaaa!”
Belinda let out a scream the moment she stepped inside.
What she saw was…
Ghislain plunging a dagger into his own heart.
Ghislain lay in bed, reflecting.
The moment he stabbed his heart, the dagger penetrated halfway. A little deeper, and his heart would have been completely destroyed, killing him.
But mana, which had surged to the site with incredible speed, blocked the blade. His superior regenerative abilities began healing the wounded heart immediately.
No matter how exceptional his regeneration was, internal injuries differed from surface ones. A sudden severe wound that caused massive blood loss inevitably slowed recovery.
If Piote had arrived even slightly later, Ghislain might not have died, but he would have suffered severe aftereffects.
“Young Lord! Why are you doing this again all of a sudden? Don’t tell me it’s because you met Lady Amelia again recently? Are you missing her now? You’ve become the Great Lord what could you possibly lack that you’re still hung up on a woman you broke up with? If this is how it’s going to be, find a proper match and settle down already!”
“…It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? Is it because of another one of those ridiculous bets? Are you worried you’ll actually lose this time? I’m so sick of dealing with the Chief Overseer and that Alfoi punk!”
“…That’s not it either.”
Ghislain glanced around. As expected, his retainers had gathered again, filling the room. He had known this would happen.
Claude, once again complaining, wormed his way through the crowd.
With a frustrated look, he remarked, “You’re doing this to make me look bad again, aren’t you? Look, if you think you’ll lose, just surrender already. What is this stubborn pride of yours, anyway?”
“…No, that’s not it.”
Ghislain’s indifferent response only made Claude yell in frustration.
“Everyone just blames me! They keep saying it’s because of me that you’re doing this! Seriously, are you using your popularity with people to drive me insane? Do you want to see me lose my mind, Young Lord?”
From the side, Alfoi muttered, “Let’s just call it a draw and reduce the bet by ten years. Stop being so stubborn already. Don’t you realize how much trouble I’m in because of this? I’m ‘the man who defeated a god,’ for heaven’s sake! This is so embarrassing.”
Both Claude and Alfoi were being pressured by the retainers again. They were being scolded for causing the Great Lord so much trouble.
The last time Ghislain had shocked everyone by drinking poison, they later understood it as part of his training. But stabbing his heart with a dagger? That didn’t seem like training to anyone.
No one could fathom such a foolish training method.
Ghislain, debating whether to drive them all away again, sighed and offered a brief explanation. Even he felt it was only natural that they’d try to stop him this time.
“It’s my new training. It’s dangerous, but I’m controlling it carefully, so there’s no need to worry.”
Belinda, still unconvinced, pressed him.
“What kind of training is this? Who trains like that? What could this possibly accomplish?”
“Well, you see…”
Ghislain gave a rough explanation of his hypothesis. It wasn’t a detailed theory, more like assumptions and conjectures, but his intent was conveyed nonetheless.
After hearing the explanation, everyone simply blinked at him in silence. It was only after a long pause that Belinda finally spoke with an incredulous expression.
“So… you’re training like this because you’re afraid you’ll die if you get hit by some invisible, undetectable enemy?”
“Well, not exactly… I just got some inspiration from that idea.”
“…Young Lord, sensing someone’s presence is simply a matter of skill. There’s no such thing as a creature that’s both undetectable and invisible in this world.”
Vanessa chimed in from the side.
“From a physics standpoint, that’s impossible. Even with magic, the amount of energy required to accelerate a mass to a certain speed”
As Vanessa, the queen of explanations, began launching into a lecture, Ghislain hastily interrupted.
“It’s not about that! It’s about preparing myself defensively in case of surprise attacks. Just drop it and go about your work. Don’t you all have things to do?”
The group tried to dissuade him, insisting that he was already strong enough and that such reckless training was unnecessary, but Ghislain remained immovable.
In the end, Claude shrugged and said, “See? I did my best to convince him. The Lord rejected me.”
Alfoi nodded along beside him.
“Same here. I made my case, so it’s not my fault.”
The two, who were frequently blamed by others, retreated with smug faces.
News of the incident quickly spread among the estate’s residents.
The people of the estate were astonished, and once again, they dug out the portraits of Claude and Alfoi to vent their frustrations.
“Why is the Chief Overseer so desperate to torment our Lord? He’s going to win again anyway!”
“We should ask the Holy Maiden to call divine punishment on him!”
“Alfoi’s no better! How dare he speak so rudely to the Holy Maiden!”
Claude and Alfoi’s reputations hit rock bottom well, lower than rock bottom, as they had already been disliked. It was more accurate to say their reputations had plunged into the depths of the underworld.
Meanwhile, the people’s loyalty to Ghislain remained exceptionally high. They firmly believed their Lord would prevail, openly mocking Claude and Alfoi.
Unlike before, however, the two men had grown more resilient. No matter how much ridicule or curses came their way, they didn’t even blink.
“Apparently, a lot of people are badmouthing us.”
“It’s just the limits of ignorant fools.”
The two stood on the castle’s balcony, each holding a glass of wine.
Claude elegantly sipped his drink before asking, “What will you do with your freedom, Alfoi?”
“I’ll probably finish my successor lessons at the Tower and eventually take over. Under my leadership, the Tower will reclaim its position as the greatest in the North.”
“You’ve got big ambitions, fitting for a man who defeated a god.”
“What about you? What’s your plan?”
“I’m thinking of becoming the lord of a small estate.”
“Such an honest and upright choice. Living a leisurely life doesn’t sound bad.”
“Indeed. I’ve worked hard enough.”
The two exchanged relaxed smiles, understanding each other without the need for words.
Claude raised his glass. “You’ll make an excellent Tower Master.”
Alfoi raised his own glass in return. “And you’ll be a great lord.”
They clinked their glasses with a smile.
Watching this scene from behind, Wendy sneered at them with a sour expression.
Other than Ghislain’s self-inflicted wounds, life for the people carried on without significant changes. Despite repeated attempts to stop him, Ghislain stubbornly continued his strange training.
And so, a month passed in the blink of an eye.
Swooosh.
Two days before the promised date, it began to rain. Standing by the window, Claude looked outside and smiled.
“The weather’s perfect.”
The heavy rain would leave the ground muddy, making it harder for people to move. It would undoubtedly drain the stamina of those participating in the mock battles.
The situation was enough to bring a smile to his face.
“Two more days…”
Closing his eyes, Claude calmed his mind.
The sound of wind and the eerie patter of rain struck the office window.
A storm was brewing.
He didn’t bother responding to those who mocked him in the estate or continued to laugh at him.
Whether the lord was weak, or he was, the results would speak for themselves.
Because that was the way Claude the Gambler lived his life.