The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 250: Our Knights Will Wear These. (2)

The need for a steady increase in troops and weapons was unquestionable. But no matter how much wealth Ghislain accumulated or how developed the estate became, how much could they truly afford to have?

‘It’s nowhere near comparable to the Ducal Family’s forces and resources.’

If the goal was simply to topple Count Desmond, then, as Galbarik suggested, increasing troops and weaponry would suffice. However, the Ducal Family’s forces operated on an entirely different scale.

Considering the troops of the lords and nobles aligned with the Ducal Family, their forces easily exceeded one hundred thousand.

Preparing a comparable force in a short time would be impossible. In that case?

‘Each individual must be able to fight as a force of a hundred.’

The 400 knights would need to be capable of fighting 40,000 enemies—100 times their number. Similarly, 1,000 soldiers would need to face tens of thousands of enemies.

Even then, there was no guarantee of victory against the Duke of Delfine’s forces.

‘To achieve that, their skills must be honed to the utmost limit, and they must be equipped with the best gear there is.’

The armor and helmets were to be engraved with various enchantments: weight reduction, night vision enhancement, increased strength and agility, temperature control, and adaptability to various environments.

The mechanism was simple—when the knights infused mana into the runestones embedded in the equipment, the magic circle would activate. This would allow for near-permanent usage of the gear.

The same principle applied to the soldiers. They too would be armed with Galvaniium equipment and subjected to rigorous training to become elite warriors.

‘What might seem like an army to others is, in truth, insignificant compared to the Ducal Family’s forces. they’ll always be smaller compared to the Ducal Family. Therefore, I must create a small, but formidable, elite force.’

And the Ducal Family wasn’t the only adversary to consider.

Galbarik, reviewing the documents, mumbled unconsciously.

“This gear will certainly make them stronger, but… Are you sure this is meant to fight people?”

It didn’t matter how he looked at it—this seemed far too excessive for battling humans. Too much money and advanced technology were involved.

Wearing such equipment, a knight could probably handle an ogre with ease.

At Galbarik’s words, Ghislain smirked.

“Our enemies are simply that formidable. And yes, I do plan to hunt foes scarier than humans in the future. Regardless, this is critical work, so make sure it’s done right.”

Sensing something unsaid, Galbarik chose not to pry further and simply nodded.

‘Considering how much money is being poured into this, maybe he’s planning to hunt monsters. Is he thinking of heading back to that Forest of Beasts? Still, it’d be cheaper to recruit and train more troops with this money.’

In terms of efficiency, this approach was the epitome of financial recklessness.

‘Where does this audacity even come from?’

Perhaps it was just youthful vanity driving him to burn through his wealth.

Galbarik let the thought slide and instead asked something else he was curious about.

“But why black? Why are all the ordered armor and helmets black?”

Black armor required a special coating to ensure it didn’t reveal a silver sheen even when scratched. This made it much more expensive, so it was rarely used outside certain groups.

“It’s good for moving at night and launching ambushes.”

“…Ah, yes. It suits the purpose.”

It seemed Ghislain had been completely consumed by the art of warfare after all these recent battles. To prioritize combat efficiency over the knights’ pride in their silver armor and cover it in black instead.

“Oh, and the symbolism isn’t bad either. Back in the Ferdium Siege, when Viktor and Count Digald saw the black forces approaching, they practically had seizures.”

Indeed, while black armor might lack the elegance of silver, it commanded an aura far superior in terms of intimidation.

“Understood. I’ll increase Galvaniium production and proceed with the armor and helmet manufacturing. Though, the mages will surely throw a fit…”

The mages were already overworked, constantly summoned to various sites and projects with no time to rest. It was inevitable that they would rebel upon learning of the additional workload.

In a tone suggesting he was doing them a favor, Ghislain spoke.

“Let them know they’ll get the same vacation as before once the armor and helmet production is completed. The mass production of Galvaniium and the manufacturing of gear take the highest priority—everyone should focus on this.”

“Oh! Vacation? Got it! Don’t worry!”

In this estate, the only luxury was gorging on food and resting for a brief period. Galbarik and the dwarves had adapted to this perfectly, as if it were second nature.

“Always fast and reliable. Got it?”

“I got it, geez… You really nag a lot, you know that?”

I’d heard those words so many times they felt almost meaningless. Grumbling, Galbarik left the room.

Ghislain watched him walk away, a sly grin spreading across his face. The Galvaniium would significantly enhance the estate’s capabilities.

Such was the immense power of this new material.

Though Galbarik might not know it yet, Ghislain was already envisioning additional weapons to craft using Galvaniium.

Once completed, these innovations would completely redefine the concept of mobile warfare.

“Get it done quickly. We’ve got more work to do after this.”

Ghislain smiled expectantly, his face full of anticipation.

“……”

Claude sat silently, staring at the funding request submitted by the dwarves for what felt like an eternity.

After a long moment, he simply approved it. The dwarves looked at him with surprise, their eyes sweeping over him a few times before they left.

Claude, showing no further reaction, merely closed his eyes and sipped his tea.

Even Wendy, who rarely spoke to Claude unless absolutely necessary, couldn’t contain her curiosity at his uncharacteristic behavior.

“Why… did you just let it go?”

Normally, Claude would have raised a huge fuss, argued with the lord until the matter was settled, and only then grudgingly approved the request.

He objected not because he hoped to stop it, but to make the lord reconsider. The man spent money as recklessly as he deemed necessary, so Claude would resist to prompt even a moment of hesitation.

This time, however, he had done nothing, and Wendy couldn’t help but wonder why.

Setting his teacup down, Claude responded with a serene smile.

“It’s easier if you just give up.”

“……”

“This miserable estate—if it goes bankrupt, so what? It’s not my money.”

“……”

For Ghislain, once a decision was made, it was simply carried out. But calculating the costs, allocating funds, and assigning tasks fell squarely on Claude’s shoulders.

No matter how much money the estate brought in, its financial situation remained tight, and keeping the gears greased drove Claude to the brink of insanity.

Even with no money, whatever the lord ordered had to be done. It was truly a mad estate.

Other people at least earned absurdly high wages, finding solace in that. But as an unpaid servant, Claude had nothing. It was driving him insane.

“Ah! If only another war would start! What’s Count Desmond waiting for? Is he scared?!”

If the estate was going to ruin itself, it might as well do it quickly. Such were Claude’s increasingly erratic thoughts.

Wendy, rarely inclined to pity, glanced at him with an unusual mix of sympathy and exasperation before steering the conversation elsewhere.

“Still, the Galvaniium alloy seems incredible. It will enhance the soldiers’ combat effectiveness and could really improve people’s lives.”

“Yeah, sure. Now we’ll just produce it like crazy.”

The estate had built numerous foundries and smithies, scattered throughout its lands. Until now, however, these facilities were only minimally operational, just enough to keep them maintained.

The plan had always been to fully activate them after developing Galvaniium.

Compared to the other craftsmen in the estate, blacksmiths had lived relatively leisurely lives.

Now, with Galvaniium ready, every foundry and smithy would spring into frenetic activity.

The blacksmiths were initially stunned when they received their first samples of the alloy from the dwarves.

“This… this is incredible! How did they create such a thing?”

“As expected of the dwarves!”

“They say the lord provided the technology.”

It was truly a remarkable alloy. A metal as light as this, with strength comparable to steel, was beyond anything they’d ever imagined.

When the dwarves offered to teach them the techniques, the blacksmiths were ecstatic. Mastering such a skill was a source of great pride.

Though trustworthy individuals had been carefully selected, large-scale production inevitably required expanding the workforce.

And not everyone could be perfect. Some of the blacksmiths began harboring sly ideas.

‘If I learn this technique and leave for another estate, I could make a fortune.’

No matter how high the wages were, selling the technology would be even more lucrative. In another estate, they could monopolize the knowledge for even greater profits.

People are the same everywhere—greed arises when treasures are within reach.

Learning an already completed technique wasn’t particularly challenging. Within days, a few blacksmiths who had picked up the new skills started acting suspiciously.

‘The travel restrictions have been lifted. If I come up with the right excuse, I could slip away from the estate.’

Their plans were crushed as soon as the training for the new technique ended.

“Who… are you?”

“Since you’ve mastered a critical technology for the estate, we’ll be providing you with escorts for the time being.”

‘Escorts? This is surveillance!’

Under the guise of protection, two soldiers were assigned to each blacksmith. With no way around it, the blacksmiths gave up on escaping and resigned themselves to their high wages as compensation.

However, the soldiers’ overzealousness soon became unbearable.

“Damn it! Stop following me around! This is the bathroom!”

“Why are you watching what I eat?!”

“Following me to the bath? People are going to misunderstand!”

The soldiers clung to them like leeches, making it difficult even to use the restroom in peace. Drinking with friends became a challenge as well.

“It’s late, you should head home.”

“If you get too drunk, it could be problematic.”

If they seemed too drunk to watch their tongues, the soldiers would swiftly drag them away. At night, a fresh pair of soldiers would replace the previous ones to “guard” them until morning.

It was a nuisance, but not unbearable. After all, having personal escorts wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Yet, the blacksmiths couldn’t shake a growing unease.

Galvaniium was produced exclusively in a large-scale smelting district near the lord’s castle. The finished product was then distributed across the estate.

Near this smelting area, several spacious, elegant, and well-maintained houses sat empty.

“Could it be…?”

Until now, they had passed by these houses without much thought. But with the soldiers monitoring them so closely, an ominous premonition arose.

Not long after, their fears were confirmed.

“Honey! When did you buy such a beautiful house? I’m so sorry for nagging you while you were working so hard to save money! And they’re even assigning bodyguards to us? When did you become so successful?”

“Wow! Dad’s the best! Is this really our new house? It’s huge!”

The child’s mother beamed with happiness.

“Now that Dad works right next door, he’ll come home right after work. And if he’s busy, we can always visit him at the workshop.”

“Yay! I want to see Dad working!”

“……”

The blacksmiths, seeing the joyful faces of their wives, children, or parents, hung their heads. They realized escape was now impossible.

When they were forcibly moved, everything was already prepared in the new homes without their knowledge.

Faced with their families’ delight, the blacksmiths couldn’t bring themselves to refuse.

One blacksmith’s wife, overwhelmed with emotion, kept wiping her tears.

“You idiot, why didn’t you tell me you were working so hard by yourself? I was such a fool to think of divorcing you…! No, never mind that! You’re truly the best!”

‘No, please… it’s not like that. I didn’t even work that hard… Say you don’t like this house. Say you want to go back to our old one!’

Oblivious to his thoughts, his wife let her hair down and gave him a sultry look.

“Wait here. I’ll take a quick bath.”

“W-what do you mean? A bath? Why?”

Terrified, the blacksmith took a step back.

Similar scenes played out in the homes of all the blacksmiths tasked with Galvaniium production.

These men were now effectively confined to the smelting district, with their homes right next to their workplaces. Even if they tried to sneak off, their families and the soldiers kept a vigilant watch.

‘This estate… is really the worst.’

Some blacksmiths, desperate to avoid going home, volunteered for overtime, further accelerating Galvaniium production.

The finished Galvaniium was then sent to blacksmiths in various regions, who used it to craft weapons and tools for the estate’s residents.

Finally, the long-dormant forges and smithies throughout the estate roared to life. Fires burned through the night, never extinguished.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

“Argh! Why is there so much work?!”

The sound of hammering and the cries of blacksmiths echoed across the estate.

The first items produced were armor and weapons for the soldiers. With every smith in the region working tirelessly, a staggering number of items were churned out daily.

The soldiers who received the new armor were dumbfounded.

“Full plate armor? Are you sure this isn’t a mistake?”

“We’re light infantry, not knights.”

“How are we supposed to wear this? We’ll be exhausted in no time.”

Ordinary soldiers typically wore padded cloth armor. Even in wealthy estates, they might receive breastplates or leather armor at most.

Equipping every soldier with gear fit for knights would bankrupt even the richest lord.

Besides, no matter how thin or lightweight, most soldiers lacked the strength and skill to fight effectively in metal armor.

Yet, with no regard for unit type, all soldiers were issued such equipment, leaving them bewildered.

“It’s nice, but… even if it’s well-made, it’s still going to be heavy…”

Muttering, one soldier picked up a piece of armor, only to fall silent in shock.

It was unbelievably light—so light it felt impossible.