The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 214: I Want to Create Something (2)

Ghislain clicked his tongue and continued speaking.

“I only know that it’s necessary. So hurry up, research it, and figure out a method. Once we grasp the concept, we can make it happen.”

Alfoi’s face immediately contorted.

“Seriously? I was already sick of dealing with construction dust, and now I have to bicker with chickens? Not to mention the smell! And now they want me to come up with magic for it?”

He felt irritated. Where in the world would you find a mage researching something as trivial as an incubator?

That kind of menial work should be left to other technicians!

Just as he was about to protest in frustration, Claude spoke up first.

“Now that I think about it, it does seem possible if the research succeeds. But does it really have to be now?”

“Why?” Ghislain asked.

“Livestock naturally increase over time. Surely, the supply of meat will grow as well. However, if mages are pulled away for this, other tasks will inevitably be delayed.”

“Just gather more workers for those tasks. The most urgent areas are already under control.”

“We have plenty of food, and no one is starving. Do we really need to rush this? If we fail, it’ll just waste time.”

“This is necessary. Eating plenty of meat will make all the soldiers and territory residents stronger. Plus, we can produce large quantities of jerky for rations in combat.”

“In that case, wouldn’t it make more sense to just produce more weapons?”

“A weapon is only as good as the person using it.”

“Ugh…”

Claude groaned and shook his head.

In the past, he would have opposed this idea outright, but now he couldn’t. Ghislain had already proven he could achieve what he set his mind to.

“Still, this seems like another half-baked piece of knowledge he’s dragged in. But if he’s that confident, there must be something to it.”

Unlike Claude, the dwarf Galbarik took it in stride, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure, technology is important, but what really sets the lord apart is his ideas and concepts. I never would’ve thought of an incubator, but it actually makes sense. Ah, I want to eat more meat, too. Back in other places, I used to eat so much.”

From everyone else’s perspective, the supply of meat wasn’t an urgent issue. There were more pressing priorities that demanded their attention.

However, from Ghislain’s standpoint, which focused on preparing for the upcoming war, everything was geared toward strengthening the territory’s combat capabilities.

Especially since jerky, compared to dried grains, was easier to distribute and provided superior caloric value.

As Claude seemed ready to concede, Alfoi opened his mouth to argue again. But Vanessa’s words cut him off, one beat ahead.

“I’ll give it a try! Temperature control magic isn’t too difficult, so I just need to research a humidity-related spell. If it works, there will be plenty of meat, and everyone will love it!”

Vanessa’s expression brimmed with enthusiasm.

She always wanted to contribute to the territory’s progress. Part of it was her desire to repay Ghislain for his kindness, but it was also because she felt fulfilled watching people become happier as the territory flourished.

Having endured hardship for much of her life, Vanessa cared deeply for others, more than anyone else.

With even Vanessa stepping up like this, Alfoi reluctantly closed his mouth. If he had to do it, he might as well preserve his pride.

“Well… If it’s really necessary, leave it to me. The ever-persistent Alfoi, the man who never gives up, will handle it.”

As he brushed his hair back and struck a smug pose, the others responded with yet another round of lackluster applause.

After all, if the mages succeeded, it would mean less work for everyone else.

Satisfied that the situation was somewhat resolved, Ghislain turned to Claude with further instructions.

“Breed only the biggest and strongest chickens. Let’s try to improve the breed, even a little.”

“Hmm… Understood.”

“And the dwarves will assist with the incubator development as soon as the mages finish their research.”

Galbarik’s eyes widened as he asked, “Why us? Aren’t we fully occupied with developing new materials?”

“To align the magical designs with precision, the dwarves need to handle the initial construction. Isn’t that obvious? You only need to make one prototype. Once that’s done, the other craftsmen can replicate it exactly.”

“Ugh… Fine.”

Knowing that refusal wouldn’t work anyway, Galbarik accepted the task with a sour expression, as though chewing on bitter herbs.

And so, the mages and dwarves were semi-forced into taking on their new responsibilities.

“Alright, let’s get moving quickly this time. Don’t worry about it not working—it’s going to work. Just push through,” Ghislain declared.

The mages and dwarves, burdened by their increased workload, shuffled out with disheartened expressions. Meanwhile, those who weren’t assigned new tasks breathed sighs of relief as they left, visibly thankful their duties hadn’t grown.

* * *

Developing the new incubator would inevitably take some time.

In the meantime, Ghislain decided to tackle another pressing issue.

The matter concerned someone currently standing before him.

“My lord, when are you going to let me leave? Haven’t you finished counting your money yet? You said you’d let me go if I helped with the work!”

Piote, with a sullen expression, had barged into Ghislain’s office. He had been relentlessly active here thanks to the effects of his Infinite Potion.

Thanks to him, the efficiency of every task had multiplied several times over—a fact Ghislain couldn’t deny.

But for Piote, who had lived a life of ease and comfort, being worked to the bone in this place must have felt like pure torment.

Ghislain’s gaze lingered on Piote’s pink hair as he lapsed into thought.

“Hmm… No matter how I look at him, he’s not an ordinary priest.”

It wasn’t as though Piote was hiding sinister intentions or concealing his true identity. But he certainly possessed traits that set him apart from other priests.

“Why is his divine power increasing so rapidly?”

Divine power wasn’t something that grew easily. It was largely innate.

Even in rare cases where it did increase, the growth was minimal, barely perceptible. Typically, a priest simply became more efficient in using the divine power they already had, rather than actually acquiring more.

The exact mechanisms behind this were a mystery. Those born with divine power naturally became priests, meaning it didn’t have much to do with faith itself.

“I’ve heard that doing good deeds doesn’t suddenly cause divine power to increase, either.”

This had been a long-established fact.

No matter how many virtuous deeds one performed or how strictly one adhered to doctrine, the amount of divine power generally remained unchanged.

As a result, not all priests were inherently virtuous. Many simply acted good-naturedly to maintain appearances or follow doctrine.

Yet, Piote’s divine power was growing conspicuously. He seemed unaware of it himself, likely because he used so much of it every day that it constantly felt depleted.

“He’s becoming closer to a true infinite potion. Letting him go feels like such a waste.”

Originally, Ghislain had intended to keep him around longer before sending him off. But the more he observed Piote, the harder it was to let go.

At first, Piote had cried and begged daily to be released. Lately, however, such outbursts have significantly lessened.

With that thought in mind, Ghislain decided to test Piote.

“Alright, then. When do you want to leave? Should I send you off right now? I’ll even assign you an escort.”

“W-What?”

Piote was taken aback by the sudden proposal.

He had only asked to be let go out of habit, fully expecting another refusal. He’d resigned himself to the idea that he might never be released. But now, Ghislain was making an offer like this?

Of course, he wanted to leave immediately. But he couldn’t respond right away.

“If I leave… the people here will struggle without me…”

Truthfully, it was exhausting. He wanted nothing more than to escape.

But there were too many people here who depended on his help. Thinking of the sick and suffering, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

The world outside the temple was truly hellish. That realization made it impossible for him to turn a blind eye.

Piote was a priest who had sincerely learned the goddess’s compassion.

Seeing his hesitation, Ghislain smiled faintly.

“As I thought, he’s still untainted.”

Piote must have grown up studying doctrine in a bright and sheltered environment. That’s why he was so pure and gentle.

If Ghislain had met him even a little later in life, he might not have been so different from other priests.

After much deliberation, Piote mumbled softly, “I’ll… help a little more before I go.”

“Good decision,” Ghislain replied with a nod.

Piote, looking dejected, moved once more to assist the people.

The moment he left the office, Ghislain pulled out a sheet of paper from his desk, a grin spreading across his face.

“He wants to stay here so badly; I should help him. Look how considerate I am.”

Ghislain immediately began drafting a letter with utmost care.

* * *

[To the esteemed Bishop Porisco of the Juana Order,

…Regrettably, the priest of the goddess Juana, Piote, who came to assist me, was struck directly by the enemy mage’s Fireball spell 26 times. His body… is untraceable to the extent that not even a single piece could be recovered. As the lord of this land, I deeply regret this tragic loss… and extend my sincerest condolences and prayers for the deceased…]

* * *

Bishop Porisco was Piote’s direct superior and the one responsible for sending him here.

As Ghislain wrote, he suddenly paused, tilting his head in thought.

“Is 26 too much? Maybe he wouldn’t survive that many.”

Even a seasoned knight would be reduced to a pile of ash if they faced 26 direct hits from a Fireball spell.

Though divine power was exceptional for defensive purposes, Ghislain’s expectations were still absurdly high.

And really, the very idea of standing there and taking all those hits was itself a problem.

“Hmm, this doesn’t feel right.”

Ghislain ripped the letter into shreds.

Faking Piote’s death and forcibly detaining him was a method Ghislain had often relied on. However, it tended to create lingering issues.

With most people, he wouldn’t have hesitated. But Piote was different—too innocent, too kind. Ghislain didn’t want to treat someone like him that way.

Still, Piote had been here for several months already. Any further delay, and someone from the Juana Order might come looking for him.

If that happened, Piote would inevitably be taken back.

“Hmm, I can’t ask the Royal Faction for help either.”

The Juana Order was even more insular and authoritative than the mage towers. No kingdom dared meddle in their affairs lightly.

If nobles from the Royal Faction, who were already at odds with the ducal families, tried pressuring the Order, it would only lead to greater problems.

In fact, the Marquis of Branford would likely refuse to make such a request in the first place.

“In that case, there’s only one clean solution.”

The Order itself needed to willingly send Piote to him.

As it happened, Ghislain already had plans to visit the capital city soon. He decided to handle this issue while he was there.

Without delay, Ghislain summoned Lowell. This man was as cunning and resourceful as Claude, if not more so.

The moment Lowell arrived, Ghislain got straight to the point.

“You’re coming to the capital with me.”

“Pardon? Right now?”

“Yes. We’ll travel with the cosmetics merchant guild heading there.”

“What’s the purpose of this trip?”

Ghislain beckoned Lowell closer and whispered a few words into his ear.

After listening, Lowell nodded several times with a knowing, meaningful expression.

“Understood. I’ll prepare for departure immediately.”

“Good, let’s head out quickly.”

Ghislain and Lowell promptly packed their belongings and set off for the capital.

This time, no one opposed or insisted on joining their trip to the capital. After all, supplying cosmetics was an essential business for the Fenris Estate.

With the war over, people assumed this was also an opportunity to meet with nobles from the Royal Faction, so they let it slide without question.

Since the cosmetics were destined for the Marquis of Branford’s household, the escort was exceptionally well-equipped, leaving little room for concern.

When Ghislain personally delivered the cosmetics, Rosalyn was taken aback.

“I never expected you to come in person, Baron! What were you thinking, going to war like that…?”

As she seemed ready to launch into a tirade, Ghislain cut her off immediately.

“I appreciate you sending those people. They’ve been very helpful.”

“Helpful? Are they still in Fenris?”

“Yes. They have such kind hearts. They felt bad about just leaving, so they decided to help with estate matters for a few years. No need to go out of your way to find them.”

At those words, Rosalyn tilted her head in confusion.

It was plausible for someone to assist temporarily, but for years? Who volunteers years of unpaid service out of guilt? And all ten of them, no less?

“Is the priest with them as well? Ah, let’s discuss the details inside. There are so many questions I’ve had, including how you predicted the drought.”

“No, I’m busy right now. I’ll come back later. The payment is settled, right?”

‘Does this guy have anything to talk to me about besides money?’

Rosalyn felt drained. The capital had been in chaos due to the war, yet the person who started it all acted like he had just gone for a leisurely stroll.

The whole ordeal felt absurd in retrospect.

Swoosh.

Rosalyn covered her face with her fan, leaving only her sharp, glaring eyes visible, and spoke sharply.

“The payment is secure! Do I look like someone who would swindle you? How dare you think so little of me!”

“Ah, no need to get upset. It’s just a habit, a habit. Ahem, your temper is still as fiery as ever. Well, I’ll be off then.”

Ghislain hastily made his exit as if fleeing the scene. Rosalyn huffed and fumed for a while before clicking her tongue.

“Am I really that insufferable?”

She had to admit, though, that she had been quite difficult to deal with during her treatment. Even she could acknowledge she had been practically deranged.

Still, was it too much to expect proper manners toward a lady? If only he had half the grace of the other young lords and knights in the capital.

“Well, I suppose it suits him.”

Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, Rosalyn shook her head a few times and returned to her mansion.

Ghislain, meanwhile, headed straight to see Mariel. Like Rosalyn, she greeted him warmly and tried to ask several questions, but she, too, had to settle for listening to his main request due to his insistence on being busy.

“You wish to meet with Bishop Porisco?”

“Yes. I’ve heard it’s difficult to meet him even for nobles, so I would appreciate it if you could arrange it as quickly as possible.”

“All right, well… since it’s a request from my brother, I’ll try to schedule it right away. Give it a few days.”

The wait wasn’t long. Thanks to Mariel, Ghislain easily secured a meeting with the bishop of the Juana Order.

Sitting in the seat of honor, Bishop Porisco looked down at Ghislain with a haughty expression.

He was so grotesquely overweight that even moving seemed a challenge. His appearance was a stark contrast to that of Piote.

“So, what business do you have with me?”

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