Chapter 19
I pointed my sword at the young knight and said.
“Will you shine as the knight of Hebron, or be buried in the dirt and forgotten forever?”
“…I surrender.”
From afar, the young knight lowered his sword.
He knelt on one knee and bowed low.
“Your name.”
“Solon.”
“Sir Solon of Nurha has surrendered to House Hebron!”
That was the beginning.
The surviving soldiers of Nurha, battered by the storm, began discarding their weapons one by one. They fell to their knees, begging for their lives.
The Nurha Barony was now filled with Hebron’s forces. Victory had come without them needing to swing their swords.
All that remained was to bind the defeated.
One final wall of the Nurha Barony still stood. Though called a wall, it was really just a four-meter-high stone barrier erected to separate the estate from the commoners’ quarter.
Beyond it stood a four-story mansion—an old building once known as the lord’s manor.
Its gates were firmly shut, and soldiers positioned atop the wall had arrows nocked and aimed outward. They were filled with despair, but they had not given up.
‘Why? Why do they persist when defeat is certain?’
“What kind of outrageous act is this! Do you still dare call yourself a noble of the Kingdom of Xenon after doing this?”
Baron Nurha shouted, veins bulging in his neck.
Beside him stood an older man.
‘So that’s him. Nurha’s last hope.’
The man was a mage. Likely third-class at best, but a mage was still a reliable defense against a spirit’s assault.
While the spirit is held at bay, a knight is dispatched to eliminate the Spirit summoner.
It was a classic tactic against Spirit summoners.
But now, Nurha had no knights left.
Thus, the mage dared not make a move. He only darted his eyes around in panic.
“You trespassed on my land and even fortified your position and deployed soldiers! The proof is here!”
The baron waved a stack of papers and maps. But of course, no one could read their contents from this distance.
Just then, the soldiers who had been guarding the eastern forest path were dragged forward.
They looked resentful, but tried not to make a sound.
“I declared war on those who invaded my lands, and your soldiers ignored it. Here is a witness.”
At my signal, one of the soldiers who had been guarding the eastern forest cried out.
“I—I’m sorry! I’ve committed a grave sin! I didn’t know what was happening! I—I was just following Baron Nurha’s orders. When he said he was declaring war, I only asked what he meant by that…!”
Letting him ramble on would only make things worse for Hebron.
I raised my hand, and the soldier shut his mouth, shrinking back.
The tide had already turned in our favor. Baron Nurha had long separated himself from the people. He built towering walls and allowed only those of Nurha blood to live beyond them.
Which meant he had no hostages—no families of soldiers to leverage. He had to rely purely on loyalty to compel his soldiers to fight me.
But not a single one obeyed.
Just then, Mage Bartman stepped out from behind me. He walked calmly toward the wall, staff in hand.
Baron Nurha’s mage recognized him instantly and raised a hand in surprise.
Even if they shot arrows, not one would scratch Bartman’s hair. A translucent barrier shimmered around him.
“It’s Bartman. We meet again, Jansen.”
“L-Lord Bartman? What are you doing there?”
Bartman was known as a fourth-class mage. Not a grandmaster, but to those stuck at third-class all their lives, he was a god.
“I owe the young master of Hebron a great debt. Thanks to him, I broke through.”
“Wh-What do you mean…?”
“I read this book and found enlightenment. I’ve reached fifth-class.”
He pulled out a book from his robes <Hebron Beginner’s Guide to Magic>, which I had written. He treasured it like a sacred relic.
Bartman gave his staff a light wave. The magic crystal at its tip glowed faintly. The light wrapped around the book, and parts of the text rose like magic into the air. The letters floated upward and hovered before Jansen on the wall.
It was a message spell—delivering the opening passage of <Hebron Beginner’s guide to Magic>.
Jansen’s eyes widened. He scanned the floating words rapidly, then leaned over the wall in excitement.
“Wh-What is this? What comes next…? What happens after that?!”
Bartman looked back at me. He needed my permission to reveal more of the contents.
I spoke in his place.
“After that, it explains the principles of wind magic. People talk of elemental affinities in mana, but that’s nonsense born of ignorance. In truth, there is only one essence: magical energy. Any spell not grounded in that foundation is just a chaotic mess. That’s what comes next. I wrote <The Hebron Beginner’s Guide to Magic>. It establishes the fundamentals of first-class magic theory. All mages who follow me will receive a copy.”
Jansen was instantly captivated. The basics of magic I had hinted at shattered the foundations of the patchwork knowledge those mediocre mages had acquired.
He couldn’t take his eyes off me. In them, he saw hope. The same look Brown had given me.
Nurha seized Jansen by the shoulder and dragged him close, lashing out.
“You insolent wretch! You dare harbor divided loyalties while standing by my side? Guards! Seize this man and throw him into the dungeon!”
Jansen did not resist.
Two soldiers grabbed him and led him beyond the manor walls.
‘The war is over.’
“All Hebron soldiers, seal every gate of the lord’s manor! Spare those who surrender, but show no mercy to anyone who resists!”
Slave-soldiers wielding spears blocked all three gates. Behind them, Hebron’s soldiers stood in confidence.
I looked up at Baron Nurha and shouted.
“Flee through the gates. From this moment on, the lord’s manor will be set ablaze. Those who surrender and hand over their weapons will become soldiers of Hebron. To the one who brings me that man’s head—I’ll pay 50 gold coins.”
“Y-You fools! Do you believe such nonsense? My son is coming! My eldest, who studies at the Royal Academy…! Gah!”
Baron Nurha looked down to see a spearhead bursting through his chest from behind. One of his own soldiers had betrayed him. Another soldier standing nearby, unwilling to be left behind, snatched Nurha’s sword and swung.
Nurha’s head was severed. It tumbled over the manor wall and rolled along the ground.
Creeeeak!
The main gate of the lord’s manor opened. The side gates and servant entrances swung open too. There was no one left unwilling to welcome Hebron. They didn’t care who ruled—as long as they could live.
“Long live Hebron! Long live Young Master Louis!”
The soldiers shouted, and shuttered windows flew open as the cries of the townsfolk joined in.
I was not a cold-hearted lord who demanded loyalty from those who were not knights.
“House Nurha is finished. From today onward, this land belongs to Hebron. Bring Jansen to me.”
Jansen, who had been dragged away earlier, was brought before me.
His expression was a tangle of emotions.
“I stand before Young Master Hebron.”
“Deliver news of Hebron’s victory to the Kingdom of Xenon.”
It was a command filled with many meanings.
By entrusting Jansen alone with such a critical administrative task, I made it clear that I acknowledged him.
Jansen exhaled in relief. He saluted like a trained soldier, fist to his chest.
“Yes, sir!”
“When you’re done, you may study <Hebron Beginner’s Guide to Magic.”
“Thank you! I, Jansen, swear my loyalty to the House of Hebron!”
He had stepped out of despair and found hope. He trembled with emotion and made no effort to hide his joy.
But I doused his euphoria with cold water. I didn’t trust Jansen.
“Make a Mana Oath.”
“…What?”
It wasn’t uncommon for mages to be bound by contracts to nobles, but a Mana Oath was different.
Once sworn, the mage could no longer disobey their lord’s orders. If they did, they would lose their mana—more precious than life itself.
“Until then, you’re just a prisoner from a defeated territory. Swear the oath, and I won’t just teach you basic theory—I’ll give you something far greater.”
Hebron had no mages. Only five hopeful mages. I had once believed I could train them into competent casters, but without even the basics, crash-course education was impossible.
Jansen, however, had the foundations. He was a Third-Class mage with working knowledge of magic.
He could grow quickly.
“Does that mean… you know more than what’s in the book?”
“Inferno, show him your power.”
Inferno’s body grew larger than mine.
Though he still had no legs, his upper body alone was enough to overwhelm any human.
Mage Jansen was awestruck by Inferno’s presence. Even at full power, he couldn’t have withstood that flame.
I spoke.
“I was born with the lowest affinity for fire spirits. But I broke through that limit—and I intend to keep doing so.”
“What… what are you saying…?”
Beside me, Inferno nodded, silently affirming my words.
Jansen’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Spirits do not lie.
“I’ll only ask once more. Will you shine as a mage of Hebron, or be buried and forgotten forever?”
Jansen finally saw the truth of his situation. He wasn’t in a position to be favored—I could have him executed at any moment. He was nothing but a prisoner.
“…I swear.”
“When you finish your task, come find me. I’ll teach you a new mana cultivation technique.”
Jansen looked at me with stunned eyes.
But unlike the Serpens’ guildmaster, he did not doubt me. Inferno, <Hebron Beginner’s Guide to Magic>, and Bartman were all proof enough to earn his trust.
“Bartman.”
“Yes, Young Master!”
Bartman turned toward me with an eager expression, clearly hoping I’d offer him the new mana cultivation technique as well.
“I only value what is mine.”
* * *
The process of annexing Baron Nurha’s domain into Hebron proceeded without a hitch.
The documents Jansen had drafted overnight were delivered to the royal court, accompanied by the revised tax report resulting from the civil war. The court barely glanced through the tax statements before approving Hebron’s request.
Just like that, Hebron’s territory more than doubled in size. The road cutting through the eastern forest was straightened and refined, and security was tightened with outposts established and soldiers stationed throughout.
The previous Baron Nurha had been a cautious man who invested heavily in the defense of his territory. Had he shut the gates and braced for a siege from the start, Hebron would not have taken the barony so easily.
There were rumors that Nurha’s eldest son had left the Royal Academy and was heading toward Hebron. If he hurried, he could arrive within ten days.
“The line is finished, Young Master.”
Serpens’ Guildmaster had taken to wearing lavish clothes. His complexion had improved now that he had quit drinking. Backed by the new lord of Nurha, he threw himself into commerce with zeal. As a reward for managing Hebron’s supply lines during the Nurha invasion, he had been granted a partial tax exemption.
Thanks to the Serpens’ Guildmaster, the market district in Nurha underwent a transformation. Standardized signs were hung above shops, and trade was restricted to designated zones. Wooden stalls were built, allowing penniless commoners to sell their goods and participate in the economy.
