Ghislain asked with an innocent expression.
“Why not?”
“...”
“You said you’d give me anything, didn’t you?”
“I did say that, but...”
Arterion stroked his chin thoughtfully several times.
He had said he would support them with everything they needed—but he hadn’t expected Ghislain to ask for the lich he was using as a personal secretary and guardian.
“Hmmmm...”
Dragons were inherently greedy beings.
Whether something was useful or not, if it had value, a dragon’s instinct was to hoard it in their lair.
‘That lich is a rare and hard-won slave...’
A mage skilled enough to reach the 8th circle was a once-in-a-century genius.
That was precisely why Arterion hadn’t destroyed Naktura but kept him imprisoned. An 8th-circle lich was incredibly useful.
Officially, there were no dark mages on the continent who had reached the 8th circle. Even if they existed, finding one would be nearly impossible.
Naturally, when Arterion captured Naktura, the other dragons had been wildly jealous.
And now this brat was just asking for him outright.
Come to think of it, this one was just as greedy as a dragon.
“Ahem. Hm-hm.”
After a few awkward coughs, Arterion finally spoke.
“I heard from Iralniel that you’ve studied dark magic. But even so, an 8th-circle lich will be hard for you to control.”
“Well, I just need to improve my magic skills then. Once I reach the 8th circle myself, I should be able to control him.”
“Mm. Hm.”
Seeing Arterion still try to deflect, Ghislain pressed again.
“Didn’t you say he’d regain his freedom if he killed us? That means you were planning to release him, weren’t you?”
“Well... yes, but...”
Not really.
Arterion had already expected Naktura to fail once he saw the group's strength.
Sending the lich had just been a way to put them through more hardship. After all, fighting an 8th-circle lich would be valuable experience.
If one or two of them died in the process, so be it.
He hadn’t expected them to subdue Naktura so easily—and without a single casualty.
Arterion opened his mouth several times, only to close it again in hesitation.
As the Dragon Lord, flat-out refusing now would damage his dignity.
Besides, handing over an 8th-circle lich would significantly bolster the Julien Mercenary Corps’ power.
From a greater perspective, it made sense to hand him over.
At last, Arterion sighed and spoke with a conflicted expression.
“Fine. Once you reach the 8th circle, I’ll give you the lich.”
Ghislain smiled brightly, as if he had expected that answer.
“Thank you.”
“...You really are something else.”
Arterion clicked his tongue at Ghislain.
Even the support he had already promised was astonishing. Most people wouldn’t even dare to ask for more.
‘But this guy’s different.’
He was out to take everything he wanted, without shame.
Usually people tread carefully around dragons, watching their moods—but Ghislain had none of that hesitation.
‘Then again... I suppose this is the kind of person who can go toe-to-toe with the Pope.’
A man who wasn’t even afraid of a dragon certainly wouldn’t fear the Pope.
In some ways, he was the ideal candidate to protect the saintess.
‘And the other one...’
Arterion turned to look at Julien.
He was sitting with Deneb, laughing and sharing stories of what they’d been through.
Deneb’s face was bright with joy at their reunion.
Seeing that, Arterion’s brow furrowed slightly.
“The saintess is growing too emotionally attached to a human.”
“Is that a problem?” Ghislain asked.
Arterion nodded.
“Of course it is. The saintess must always place the word of the gods first. Being swayed by personal emotions isn’t right.”
“...I see. Is that so?”
“That Julien boy... he’d lay down his life for her. That’s commendable. But the saintess being emotionally shaken by a human—that’s not a good thing.”
“Why not?”
“The saintess must prioritize saving the world. That is her mission.”
“And she is trying to save the world right now, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but...”
Arterion trailed off.
No matter what he said, he couldn’t forcibly control the saintess’s feelings.
Ghislain understood the implications as well.
Julien and Deneb.
The two of them cared for each other as if their lives depended on it.
Which also meant—they were each other’s greatest weakness.
And that could interfere with their mission to save the world.
‘Hmm...’
Suddenly, Ghislain felt an itch in the back of his mind.
Why had Ereneth and Arterion in the future considered Julien to be the Adversary?
He’d always assumed it was some kind of misunderstanding. Even Ereneth, after spending time with Julien, had stopped being sure and merely held suspicions.
But... what if there was another reason?
What if it was something involving Deneb?
‘Hmm...’
But judging by how things turned out, the Demonic Realm had been sealed.
Which meant things had progressed according to Julien and Deneb’s plan.
He couldn’t just start doubting them based on hunches.
Besides, Arterion looked just fine here in the present.
‘Ugh, this is giving me a headache.’
Ghislain shook his head.
Thinking too hard about it wouldn’t change anything. The timeline had already diverged the moment he regressed.
The whole point of his actions now was to push the Hero and his allies to become even stronger than before.
So the results were bound to be better. Everything he was doing now was just a process to reach that end.
What mattered most was doing everything he could—believing in himself as he always had.
‘For now, I’ll focus only on what I can control.’
Everything else could be dealt with later, once the results came in.
That was Ghislain’s philosophy.
Noticing Ghislain deep in thought, Arterion asked,
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“...Just reflecting on those two.”
“There’s nothing I can do to stop it now. If you try to forcefully separate people, they only cling harder.”
“You seem to understand human emotions pretty well.”
“Let’s call it the wisdom of many long years. In any case, I won’t go against the saintess’s wishes. For now, we’ll simply have to watch and wait.”
With that, Arterion began preparing the supplies Ghislain had requested.
The rune stones for constructing mana focusing arrays were abundant—so much so that when they saw them stacked like mountains in a massive warehouse, no one could speak.
“W-Whoa...”
“Isn’t this the most in the entire continent?”
“I’ve never seen this many rune stones in my life...”
With that many rune stones, it was entirely possible to build a massive mana focusing array and live inside it indefinitely.
Normally, rune stones were consumed too quickly for such a thing to be feasible—it was the kind of setup one would only dream about.
Ghislain looked over the hoard and tried to maintain a straight face.
“Hmph. Not bad.”
It looked like it was on par with what he'd secured back in Fenris—maybe even more.
Even when he had had that many rune stones, Ghislain hadn’t been able to operate a large-scale focusing array continuously. There were just too many competing needs.
But here, all the rune stones were reserved strictly for training.
With this amount, he could build and run mana arrays without any limitation.
Arterion opened another warehouse and said:
“If you need weapons, pick what you like from here.”
“W-Woooooah...”
Once again, the group’s jaws dropped.
The warehouse was filled wall-to-wall with dazzling weapons, sorted neatly by type.
Each one looked far too lavish to be for training. No—they were treasures.
Even the swords rolling around on the floor were masterwork blades forged by dwarves. They were so fine, it felt almost sinful to use them as training gear.
Arterion spoke generously.
“Once your training is done, each of you may take one weapon of your choosing. A gift, for those who must protect the Saintess.”
Once again, the group let out collective gasps of awe.
They had already received quality weapons from the dwarves, but having one more certainly didn’t hurt.
When it came to treasures, more was always better.
Julien, however, looked uneasy. He knew well just how greedy dragons were.
He wasn’t sure it was okay to just walk off with a dragon’s hoarded treasure.
So, cautiously, he asked:
“Are you really sure it’s alright for us to take these?”
“Yes. Whatever’s taken, I’ll simply have the dwarves make replacements.”
“Ah...”
Arterion said it casually—but everyone else understood what that meant.
If it could be replaced, it didn’t even count as treasure to a dragon.
Even if that meant tremendous suffering for the dwarves in the process.
Beyond that, Arterion also provided the high-level grimoires Ghislain had requested—and promised to supply monsters for live combat training whenever necessary.
Over the next several days, nearly all preparations for their training were completed.
Any remaining needs could be addressed as training progressed.
But there were a few things difficult to acquire in this place.
One of those was the “delicious food” Ghislain had asked for. In this desolate, frozen wasteland, that was perhaps the hardest thing to obtain.
Ghislain was curious how Arterion would solve that problem. After all, a Dragon Lord wasn’t known for making empty promises.
And sure enough, Arterion resolved the matter in the most absurdly straightforward way possible.
“Wait here a moment.”
He left briefly—then returned with dozens of people in tow.
They were shivering and sobbing as they stumbled along. Ghislain frowned and asked,
“...Who are these people?”
“They will be in charge of your food. Cooks and servants.”
“...”
“They were all top chefs of the Kingdom of Snowbur. Matching your tastes shouldn’t be difficult. The kingdom will continue to send food supplies here in bulk.”
“...”
Arterion had simply threatened a nearby kingdom, then hauled in their chefs and servants.
It was simple, efficient, and—above all—extremely dragon-like.
There was no chance a dragon would gather ingredients and cook them personally, after all.
Everyone was too stunned to speak. Somehow, they all felt like the villains now.
Ghislain scratched his head.
“Hm...”
He did prefer clean, effective solutions—but even he didn’t believe in tormenting innocent people like this.
At last, he let out a long sigh.
“...We’ll handle the food ourselves. Please send them back.”
“Denied.”
“...Why?”
“A dragon’s word carries weight. I gave an order to the kingdom, and they complied. These people will remain here and see to your meals until your training is complete.”
Ghislain shook his head.
Human logic didn’t work on a being like this. For now, he had no choice but to accept it.
“Understood. Then... we’ll accept the help, for now.”
And with that, every single piece was in place for their training.
Ghislain set his sights on studying 8th- and 9th-circle magic alongside Astion.
Julien and Kyle focused on live combat training.
They fought monsters every day, and on occasion, even sparred with the 8th-circle lich, Naktura, who begrudgingly joined their sessions.
Lionel and Marika devoted themselves to mastering the advanced mana cultivation methods and techniques Ghislain taught them—striving to become true superhumans.
Ereneth absorbed the overflowing natural energy of the land and deepened her affinity with elemental spirits.
The rest of the mercenaries trained daily under Ghislain’s guidance, honing their techniques.
Ghislain even built a massive mana focusing array so that everyone could live and train within it. It was the fastest way to accumulate strength.
They didn’t have to worry about anything else.
Especially not their daily lives, which were handled entirely by the world-class chefs and servants “kidnapped” into the compound.
Thanks to that, the Julien Mercenary Corps could focus solely on getting stronger.
***
“Those goddamn bastards...”
Darentz ground his teeth as he stepped foot onto the frozen land.
They had been stationed in the port city of Tulan under the Pope’s orders.
But the Julien Mercenary Corps had crossed into this frozen land with the dragon—and hadn’t been heard from in an entire year.
No word on whether they had obtained the Sacred Stone. Not even confirmation of the Saintess’s survival.
In the end, the Pope had ordered Darentz to go to the frozen land himself and confirm it.
He boarded a ship provided by supporting lords and raised the Holy Empire’s banner the moment he disembarked.
Otherwise, the Dragon Lord would have considered him a trespasser and incinerated him on the spot.
“Damn... what a miserable, freezing hellhole.”
As he carefully scanned the surroundings, Darentz spotted something unusual.
“A corpse?”
They were the corpses of monsters—frozen stiff and scattered all over.
It was enough to deduce that the Julien Mercenary Corps had fought here.
If they were dead, that would be a problem in itself—because it meant Darentz would have to find their bodies in this wasteland.
“Let’s move.”
Darentz led his men toward the altar.
Even as a superhuman assassin, he had no intention of trekking all the way across this terrain to the dragon’s lair.
Upon reaching the altar, Darentz poured mana into the magic circle carved into it.
BOOOOOM!
The circle began to glow, and immense mana surged upward.
It was like a god descending from the heavens—a thunderous presence from above.
And then—
From the altar came Arterion’s voice.
“So the rats have crawled in... Still, you carry the Empire’s banner. I’ll hear what you have to say.”
Darentz and his men immediately fell flat to the ground. He spoke in a trembling voice.
“I-It is an honor to meet you, O Great One. I am Darentz, leader of the Crips, sent under orders from His Holiness the Pope.”
“Hmmm... Very well. Speak.”
“We were tasked with escorting the Julien Mercenary Corps. But their trail ended here, and we came to verify what happened.”
“Escort, you say... Was it truly escort duty?”
“Y-Yes, absolutely. It was a direct command from His Holiness.”
Darentz kept repeating the Pope’s name. It was his only chance at surviving this encounter.
There was a long pause.
Then Arterion’s voice returned—drenched in biting sarcasm.
“Escort? No... it seems to me you were sent to kill the Saintess.”
Darentz’s face went deathly pale.
