Watching Wider Through No. 2 Clone
I was keeping tabs on Wider through No. 2 clone. The moment he left the marquis's castle, he headed straight for a dingy little inn tucked away in a corner of the city. At first, I thought he might just be crashing there for the night since it was late. But no—Wider was making an offer to the innkeeper to join House Akasha.
The innkeeper didn't seem to have any standout talents. He had above-average skills, sure, but was he really worth recruiting? Hard to say. That opinion flipped the instant the serving girl appeared. Her soul was impressive—nothing legendary, but solidly in the genius category. Yeah, she was worth poaching.
The next day, Wider sealed the deal with the innkeeper. The pitch? Building him a new inn in Akasha Territory. Meanwhile, I'd accepted the Illibard Marquis's invitation to stick around his castle a few more days. The young lady was still looking frail on the surface, and the marquis was worried her illness might relapse.
In the meantime, Wider kept recruiting. He gathered an eclectic bunch: a butler from a fallen baron's house, a maid who'd worked for the Illibard Marquis, a carpenter retired due to an arm injury, an unemployed graduate of Illibard Academy, a bankrupt merchant, a veteran soldier—folks with quirks, but the kind who could be useful in Akasha Territory. Their souls pegged them as solid mid-tier talents, right between genius and prodigy.
Finally, on the day we left the marquis's castle, Wider was waiting at the city gates like he'd been tipped off by a ghost.
"Recruited a lot of talent?"
"Yes, very satisfactory hires. I've even arranged an escort—they'll head to our territory soon."
Wider gave a straightforward reply to my feigned ignorance.
"I see."
I nodded and left it at that, but Wider started fidgeting instead.
"Aren't you curious who I hired?"
"I trust you picked the right people."
Of course, I'd watched the whole thing, so there was no need to ask. But Wider bowed his head, looking deeply moved.
"You won't regret it."
Even if he'd dragged back a bunch of weirdos, I wouldn't have minded. After all, the weirdest one was Wider himself.
The journey back was as peaceful as the trip there. This time, instead of Jayke, I sparred with Argin. Something had profoundly changed in him during our time together. His attitude toward me had shifted completely. It wasn't bad before—he'd treated me like a benefactor or lordly mentor—but now it bordered on outright adoration.
A few sparring sessions pushed it to the peak. Argin's skills still couldn't match mine in any area, but I was showing him a variety of sword styles. Few on the continent could wield a broader range than me. Scratch that—probably no one. I could use nearly every known style from the eastern and western continents. True, I hadn't practiced them long enough to master them fully, but even this exposure would be a huge boost for Argin.
Argin had exceptional talent. At minimum, he'd reach Master level. With luck and effort, even higher. Show him a technique a few times, and he'd adapt instinctively, countering on pure reflex. That's what a genius looks like. Nothing like a fake one like me.
Anyway, loyalty from a genius like that wasn't a bad thing. For a moment, I toyed with the idea of gathering more kids like him, but I dropped it. Too much hassle. Just imagine the headaches from having ten Master knights in one territory.
When we got back, Dorbi greeted me with snake eyes, like he had something to say but couldn't spit it out.
"Did the vassal business go well?"
Dorbi's tone dripped with sarcasm.
"You know damn well it did—why ask?"
Sarcasm deserves sarcasm, right? Dorbi didn't flinch as much as I'd expected.
"His Majesty must be quite disappointed."
"I don't think I did anything to disappoint him."
Dorbi got surprisingly blunt. I hadn't gotten any direct word from the emperor, and I had no reason to act like his vassal. Besides, "disappointed" was just Dorbi's assumption—not something the emperor had said outright.
"Would His Majesty have been satisfied if I'd unleashed Guardian's Wrath on Husen?"
Dorbi couldn't respond. His face flushed a bit. That probably wasn't the emperor's intent either. The current emperor was more of a king of the living.
I brushed past Dorbi and headed into the mansion. The territory was changing daily. I'd requested more workers and materials from the merchant guild. What started as a simple mansion build had ballooned into something much bigger.
I barely had anything to do anymore. Wider handled most of it. About a week later, the recruits arrived. I sent Dorbi packing. No hard feelings, but he wasn't needed now. Keeping the emperor's spy around didn't sit right.
Wider's hires settled in quickly—they were just what we needed. The butler, maid, and innkeeper started working in my two-story house. Wider assigned the rest. It freed him up big time. He lounged around like he'd hired them just to offload his own work. Made me wonder.
The construction would finish itself if left alone, so with nothing pressing, I tackled some postponed business. Late one night, with everyone asleep, I created a new clone. Unlike my worry that it might spawn a mini-Germain, No. 4 emerged as a soul, just like before.
So my essence is still a soul, huh?
Even if Germain's body died, I might revert to soul form. Probably. Anyway, No. 4 was born. The backlash from creating it was milder than expected. As a soul, adapting to the new senses and thoughts used to sideline me for months. Even in human form, I could move without issue—not great for intense action or magic, but daily life was fine. Without swordplay or spells, I was still plenty strong. The authorities I wielded...
A few months passed without incident, and the mansion was finally complete. Inns and other buildings were rising fast too. My retainers and I, now living like proper nobles, threw a little territory feast in celebration.
That's when the visitors started trickling in. First up: a duke's house. Word must've spread from Illibard Marquis—rumors I could cure incurables. I turned them down. They wanted me to come personally. Why bother with that hassle when I had nothing to gain?
The duke's envoy was rudely indignant. I considered killing him on the spot, but Wider talked me out of it.
"This was bound to happen."
Wider's rare precognition. So this was fated—meaning I wouldn't have killed him originally?
"More will come."
"What a pain."
"Still, granting favors won't hurt. Builds goodwill."
Fair point. No downside to obliging nobles like that. After the duke's man left, envoys from various houses followed. Some patients came themselves. Simple treatments, and they left overjoyed, showering us with wealth. Wider was thrilled at the boosted income, but I'd seen scenes like this before. Not fond memories.
I quit the healing gig. No way I'd let them turn me into some religion founder, but better safe. With free time again, I made No. 5. Aside from No. 1, they were all scattered. No. 2 stayed nearby; 4 and 5 went far.
Planned builds were wrapping up. The place finally looked like a territory. Population was still low, but whatever. Some of Wider's recruits were teaching the kids. I told him to find self-sustaining work for the residents. I'd promised not to starve them, not to feed them for free.
Even the mostly elderly with limited strength could do something.
"Got just the thing."
His answer came like he'd prepped it.
"What?"
"Wild strawberries grow plentiful here. We brew and sell liquor from them."
Solid idea. Old folks and kids could handle it. No need for mass production.
"Brewing takes skill."
"Won't the viscount teach us?"
Did he just play me? Of course I knew brewing. One wandering clone had stolen the know-how. Noticing my look, Wider averted his eyes, pretending otherwise.
"Fine. I'll contact the guild for brewing gear."
It'd help the territory anyway. A few days of hands-on work, and I jotted down the essentials. Sure, I seemed idle, but I stayed busy. Crafting sub-space items for periodic deliveries, advancing Inclonius's magic research. Okay, the items were stockpiled for years, and research was collaborative with other clones, so I looked zoned out sometimes—unfair judgment. It's not like my slacking hurt anyone.
A few more peaceful months, then alarms blared across the territory. Jacques and the mercenaries—looking lazier than me—rang the watch bells. First time since installation. I sent No. 1 to check: what was bound to come had arrived.
Troops flying the Divinerati Church banners marched on the territory. Leading souls marked them as heretic inquisitor grade.
"Damn it, that's why I quit early..."
I cursed and stepped out. Mercs alone couldn't handle this. Jayke, sweating with Argin in the training yard, was already there.
"Sir Jayke, with me."
"Yes, my lord."
En route, we ran into Wider.
"Divinerati Church heretic inquisitors incoming. Know anything about this?"
Wider paled.
"N-no idea."
He was clueless too. Maybe not a big deal? Could be passing through, not targeting me.
That hope shattered spectacularly.
"Viscount Germain Akasha! Greet the Saint of the Divinerati Church!"
The lead inquisitor bellowed before the village, backed by thousands.
They brought a Saint just to kill me? Sure, there was an archbishop, but the church's real powers were the Saint and Saintess. They alternated usually, but this era had birthed a Saint.
I stepped forward alone. If that army pushed, every life in Akasha Viscountcy would end today. Not going down without a fight.
"I'm Viscount Germain Akasha."
The inquisitor's gaze swept over me coldly. Cocky bastard. Should I remind him what happened to the last ones who crossed me?