After finishing a brutal round of training.
I returned to my room.
SPLASH.
I sank my exhausted body into the bathtub.
"Maybe I pushed too hard."
I had no choice. My magical talent was abundant, but my talent for swordsmanship was lacking. The only way to close the gap was training.
Fortunately, one of the Resistance's eccentric doctors before the regression had devised an incredible method for recovering the body after this kind of grueling training.
TAP— TAP—
I dropped a teal-colored herb—Isgrain—onto the bathwater.
——FIZZ.
The finely ground herb spread like a shimmer of heat haze and clung to my body.
The medicine seeped through my skin, and the waste built up in my body flushed out even more effectively.
It felt like every single cell was being cleansed. Fresh blood then rushed into those purified cells. Nutrients flooded in.
Vitality returned to each and every cell, and mana settled into my revitalized body.
The fatigue melted away.
Strength welled up.
"Phew."
Not just anyone could do this. Only two kinds of beings could recover this way.
A Mage who had formed a Star Ring.
A Knight who had developed a Core.
A Knight was a precious asset that might emerge from one in a thousand trained soldiers, and Mages were rarer still. In other words, I had become an existence that far surpassed an ordinary soldier. But.
"Still a long way to go."
I thought back to before the regression. On the day the world ended, Knights and Mages died like flies. The enemy was larger than all of humanity combined.
'I can't afford to be picky about means and methods.'
I lowered my gaze to the bathwater. Bubbles floated lazily across the surface.
Over those bubbles, the faces of those I had to kill and those I had to save flickered past.
The ones who need killing will all die. But I can't save everyone who should be saved. For the greater cause. I have to choose which lives to prioritize.
My shoulders felt heavy.
Many thoughts swirled, but I decided to start with what I could do right now.
From this point forward, what I need to cultivate is power. More power. And more power. Becoming strong.
And.
Strength isn't simply a matter of individual combat prowess.
Wealth, connections, knowledge, and more. It's the sum total of all capabilities, so I have to build strength on every front.
For a single ideal.
To prevent the end.
I finished bathing and changed into a clean suit. Then I called Roman.
"Roman, compile my asset records and accounts and bring them to me."
Roman brought my financial records.
I quietly counted the zeroes on the document.
"1.74 billion zeni? How much did I start with?"
"15 billion zeni."
The inheritance Mother left behind, and the sum the family deposited to mark my coming of age.
"And this is all that's left?"
"......Yes, Young Master."
Roman averted his eyes, perhaps nervous about my reaction, but this was by no means his fault. It was mine.
"1.74 billion zeni......"
It wasn't a small amount by an ordinary citizen's standards.
The average annual income for a northern territory resident was 25 million zeni, after all.
But a staggering 13.3 billion had evaporated in just two years.
'I really did live a spectacularly debauched life.'
This was all Guseto's fault. Guto, that bastard. Just thinking about it ticked me off.
He'd even sent a letter. Another party, come hang out. He'd procured something really great just for me.
Son of a bitch.
His game was obvious.
He'd grind my self-esteem into the dirt and say things like: "Something like this really suits you, Sion," or "Wear this and women will be lining up."
Before the regression, consumed by inferiority, I'd been swept up by Guseto's crew, eagerly buying knockoffs thinking they were luxury goods. What a moron.
But.
Things are different now.
"Roman. Transfer 10 million zeni from here to your account."
"Yes, Young Master. Huh? ......Wait, pardon?"
Roman was so flustered that he gaped and asked again.
I looked at him and smiled gently.
"It's fine. To me, it's the price of a biscuit."
"Even so, how could I possibly......"
I walked right up to Roman. Then I took his trembling hands firmly in mine and said:
"This is a bonus. From now on, you'll be running a lot harder for me."
"......Ah."
Roman bowed deeply and answered.
"I will devote my utmost loyalty!"
Roman's loyalty was already more than sufficient. But I said it anyway.
Because money is a double-edged sword—it can save a person, but it can also destroy one.
"Roman, bring me a map of the North."
"Yes! Young Master!"
Somehow, Roman's voice seemed a touch louder. Is this what the taste of money does?
RUSTLE—
The map unfurled across the desk. My finger passed over the capital Seiren and pointed to the mountain range in the northwest.
The place where, before the regression, a high-purity mana stone vein had been discovered. The place that would become my lifeline of funding.
I didn't remember the exact location, so I picked the general area and said:
"This part of the Kroem Mountains, and this part. Look into the land prices here."
Even if I found the vein, I couldn't immediately mine and sell mana stones.
I'd need a mining business permit, miners to hire, lodging for the workers, and a refinery to process the ore—so the more land, the better.
"Understood, Young Master."
Roman didn't bother asking why. He'd always been like that. He was someone who never questioned my instructions.
"And find out when the next auction is being held in Seiren."
"Yes."
My greatest weapon is information. So I had to actively leverage that information to make money.
More money is always better, and doubly so right now. Changing the future would require far more funds.
And Roman was the invaluable person who would follow my decisions without doubt.
'I'll throw in another bonus soon.'
I sent Roman off and organized the events that would unfold in the future. Before launching various ventures, I compiled a list of the people I needed and thought about how to win each of them over.
'Hm......'
I was definitely short on funds. By a wide margin.
Even if I undercut the land prices, it wasn't a sum my current capital could handle.
But. It wasn't as if there were no options.
The second site in the underground cavern.
The [Flame-Frost Dragon's Dungeon].
They'd said Sun Stones could be mined there.
Ah, but before that.
"Let me go pay someone a visit first."
Guto had a party prepared, after all.
***
I put on a black suit and a fedora. A sword hung at my waist. A fairly expensive fine blade.
Of course, it couldn't compare to Gram, the hero's sword I'd used before the regression—but back then, heroes were dropping dead left and right, so fine swords were plentiful.
'For now, this will have to do.'
I trudged out of the mansion.
Unlike the estate, which maintained its mild temperature year-round, a brutal blizzard was raging outside.
It's supposed to be summer, so why the blizzard?
In the North, blizzards struck with surprising frequency even in summer. It was a geographic peculiarity—I didn't know the exact reason, but what could I do about the environment?
Roman, bundled up in thick furs, opened the car door.
"Please, get in."
A car provided by the family. Another invention recently developed by the Central Empire, fueled by melted mana stones.
I slid naturally into the back seat and said:
"Destination is the villa owned by the Daikah count family. You know where it is?"
"Yes, Young Master."
Roman drove. His driving, however, was quite rough. Every curve sent my body lurching to one side—his skills behind the wheel were abysmal.
'I'll need to hire a personal driver.'
By the time my battered body had endured the rattling ride, we'd arrived at the villa owned by the Daikah count family.
I got out of the car and headed for the villa. I rapped on the door, and a heavy male voice came from inside.
"Who goes there?"
"It's me. Sion Karsen."
CREEEAK—
The door opened. A doorman with a fearsome face broke into a bright smile.
"Welcome. Young Master Guseto is expecting you."
The doorman smiled genially, but his bearing was sharp. A wandering Knight. Probably a fighter assigned to Guseto by Count Daikah.
I said nothing and walked inside.
The villa's interior was sweltering, making the blizzard outside seem like a joke. The scent of expensive perfume and the aroma of strong liquor mingled, making my head spin.
The den of vice where the old me had gleefully indulged in pleasure—and where, with each indulgence, I'd sunk deeper into the abyss.
"Oh! Sion! You came?"
From across the room, Guseto approached with his arms spread wide. That thin, sly smile hung on his lips. Today, it looked especially filthy.
"Get your face away from me. I'm going to throw up."
Guseto's expression hardened for an instant before relaxing. He answered with a bright smile. Managing his expression to reel in the mark. In a way, he was quite an impressive bastard.
"Haha, always joking around. Here, your favorite Iruna Noble. Have a drink first!"
I sat down beside him and knocked back the Iruna Noble. This stuff was always good, no matter when I drank it.
"How is it? Good, right?"
"Yeah."
"That's the spirit. It's a party I prepared just for you, so enjoy yourself."
"I'm good. I have to leave soon. More importantly, you said you had something to show me?"
"Hm? Oh...... right. Well, if you're busy, can't help it. Anyway, I brought something that really suits you."
Guseto brushed off my words and pulled a small box from inside his coat.
He leaned in and whispered by my ear. Truly revolting.
"This was really hard to get."
CLICK. The box opened, revealing its contents. A ring with a jewel that radiated a crimson glow.
"It's the Heart of the Flame Dragon, smuggled in from the Central Empire. Sion, isn't this exactly the kind of thing befitting the third young lord of the great House Karsen?"
"......"
I stared at the ring in silence.
The old me would've been moved to tears and thrown money at it. Unfortunately, I'd actually seen the real "Heart of the Flame Dragon."
The genuine article, owned by a comrade in the Resistance. Compared to that, calling this garbage was an understatement.
I picked up the ring and held it up against the gaudy lights.
"How much is this?"
Guseto beamed.
"For you, I'll give it to you special at 800 million zeni. What are friends for?"
I swallowed a bitter laugh. A few more rounds of this and even my remaining fortune would be cleaned out.
I clenched the ring in my fist and pressed my knuckles against Guseto's chest.
TAP.
"Hey."
"......?"
"Do I look like a joke to you?"
"......What?"
Guseto's face twisted. No amount of expression management could save him now. And I didn't stop.
TAP.
I struck his chest with my fist. Not hard, but loaded with killing intent and pressure.
No special words were needed.
He would have heard the rumors about me catching Yoen Hashman. At times like this, silence is the greatest threat.
TAP. TAP.
I kept at it.
Guseto's complexion twisted into something ugly. But so what? He had to manage his expression around me. I didn't owe him the same courtesy.
I was from a grand ducal house, and he was from a count's house.
"You swindling bastard. Do you have any pride left?"
"......You're going to regret this."
He played it bold. At this point in my life, he was the only "friend" I had, and he'd used that as leverage to walk all over me.
The world would end before long.
The pettiness of it made my blood boil.
I set the ring on the table and took another swig of liquor. But somehow, it didn't taste as good.
"I added up everything I ever bought from you. 8 billion zeni. And when I had them all appraised, they were garbage. Every last one."
"......!"
He stiffened for an instant, caught off guard. But then.
"Ha! So that's what this is about? The third young lord of the great House Karsen being petty over something like that? Hey. You're making your family name weep."
He doubled down. Trying to exploit my insecurity and inferiority.
Right.
My reputation was still this low.
A glare and threats alone wouldn't stick. But even so, they couldn't overshadow my family's standing.
"You. Remember when you dipped into the Northern liquor business House Daikah was managing, skimmed money off the top, and got caught by the treasury officer?"
"......!"
Guseto glanced around, afraid someone might hear. Everyone was too far gone on liquor and pleasure to be listening.
"What are you—"
"And you killed the treasury officer to cover it up."
"......You. What the hell are you talking about all of a sudden? You got proof?"
I didn't. He'd told me himself when he was drunk. But it didn't matter. Guilty men always crumble at the slightest prod.
"You think I joined the Inspectorate for nothing?"
Mix truth with lies.
Then hit with a blunt threat.
Guys like him are done for.
"Cut the shit. There's no way......"
"Hey."
At my flat voice, Guseto's face went ashen in an instant.
I placed my hand on his shoulder without changing my expression. TAP. Lightly.
His eyes wavered, unable to find their footing.
"Believe it or don't, that's your business. But my father doesn't forgive the murder of public officials."
Father. Head of House Karsen and Grand Duke of the North. Crushed under that weight, Guseto's eyelids trembled.
I gave one last gesture—a slow drag of my thumb across my throat.
"S-Sion. Why are you being like this, we're frien—"
"Cut the shit."
I cut him off without mercy.
"12 billion zeni. Bring it by tomorrow. Add up what you scammed from me and what you embezzled, and that should be just about right."
"......"
12 billion zeni—probably every last bit of readily available cash the bastard had.
But he had no choice. If he didn't want to die, he'd have to cough it up.
"Answer."
He chewed on his own lips.
His face was practically the color of dirt.
Then, reluctantly, he opened his mouth.
"......Fine."
Looking at him there, the lavish party around us felt all the more absurd.
"From now on, you speak to me with respect. Unless you want to die."
I turned on my heel and walked straight out of the villa. I didn't look back.