Chapter 19
Episode 19
'This is stimulating. Truly stimulating. Clearly, meditation training alone wasn't the answer.'
Though the knights' resentful gazes bore into him, Logan was far more preoccupied with the vibrating core within his chest.
Ever since the broken engagement incident, Logan had replaced sleep with nightly meditation training. He believed it would be more efficient than forcibly training a body that had already surpassed the level of a Force User.
And indeed, it had proven effective—so much so that he no longer felt even the slightest fatigue.
But in moments of grueling hardship like this, his Force Core rapidly expended and replenished energy, becoming far clearer and more vivid than during meditation.
Physically, he was exhausted, but the sight of his Force Core evolving in real-time brought an irrepressible smile to his face.
That was why he could say with complete sincerity:
"Given that you knights endure training like this regularly, it's no wonder you're so strong. Truly admirable."
Though Logan had mixed his genuine thoughts with a bit of flattery, his words completely eliminated any chance of Heinkel and the knights backing down.
"Hah, haha. Indeed. Ah, thank you for recognizing our efforts."
Heinkel laughed awkwardly and bowed his head, while the knights watching him looked ready to vomit blood.
'Damn it all...'
'Ugh, this poisonous bastard. How much does he want to screw us over?'
'Why did he even come here?'
'You insane bastard!'
'Just disappear already!'
Contrary to Logan's original intentions, the knights' resentment toward him only deepened.
The second training session of the day was cliff climbing, and when half the knights collapsed, the MacLaine Knight Order's daily training came to an abrupt and pitiful end.
As the exhausted knights sprawled across the ground, silently screaming in agony, Logan patted Heinkel's shoulder with a regretful expression.
"I'll be looking forward to more training in the future, Captain."
Though it was genuine praise, Heinkel's face only grew gloomier.
Logan didn't return to the southern villa until after sunset—and even then, he didn't head to his room. Instead, he made his way to the hills.
Thanks to his Force Core, his stamina had already recovered, but mental fatigue was a different matter.
Even a person's mental endurance had its limits, yet Logan felt strangely unfazed by exhaustion.
'This must also be...'
Hum.
Feeling his Force Core proudly asserting its presence, Logan smiled and arrived at a secluded ridge where no one would find him. He then drew forth his power to its fullest extent.
A faint golden glow flickered around the longsword in his hand.
Gazing at the light with satisfaction, Logan swung the blade through the air.
Whoosh!
Despite the seemingly casual swing, the sword split the atmosphere, generating a powerful shockwave.
Even with only a 1-star Force Core, his strength was already approaching that of an intermediate knight.
The intermediate realm of Force Users—where one could not only strengthen their body but also imbue objects with power—felt tantalizingly close.
Having succeeded in channeling energy into his sword, even if faintly, it seemed only a matter of time before he naturally reached the intermediate level.
The evolved Force power surging through his body—its amplified strength and overflowing healing—was incomparable to the simple Force he had mastered in his past life.
At this level, he could likely take on an entire squad of low-ranking knights alone.
'If this is my current strength, then once I reach 2-star...'
Perhaps he might even attain power comparable to his father, Patrick MacLaine—a high-ranking knight.
The mere thought of wielding such overwhelming force—enough to suppress enemies with sheer presence—made his hands tremble with excitement.
If he could advance just one more step before the territorial war, his martial prowess alone could become a decisive variable in the conflict.
A variable as powerful as his crossbow cavalry.
"So I must keep pushing forward."
Eyes gleaming, Logan swung his sword relentlessly for hours before finally descending the mountain late into the night.
From that day onward, Logan's routine became fixed.
He diligently participated in the knight order's training and devoted his evenings to solitary practice, oblivious to fatigue.
Every few days, he checked on Hamar's progress and the mercenary band's training. Occasionally, he observed Ronian's swordsmanship drills or Victor's condition.
Of course, despite his satisfaction with his training results, conflicts in other areas were unavoidable.
"Is this all you can do? Is this really your best? Then just scrap it! Maybe you should just stick to making swords!"
The crossbow and cartridge he threw clattered against the wall before rolling across the floor.
Hamar's face trembled with rage as he watched.
"M-Master! This already surpasses any existing crossbow in rate of fire and range—"
"What about the rapid-fire function I asked for? It only shoots one bolt at a time! And the magazine? Who needs an integrated one?"
"B-But..."
"Ah, damn it. My apologies. I spoke too harshly."
"Y-Yes! Even if you're my master, trampling on a craftsman's pride—"
"If this is truly your best, then I suppose I'll have to accept it. Sigh, to think I spent a fortune just for this..."
Hamar's face crumpled like paper at Logan's deliberately audible lament.
"Grrr... One week. I'll remake it within a week."
Crash!
The dwarf stormed out, smashing his own creation on the way.
Only after the door closed did Logan allow himself a satisfied smile.
"A little more pressure, and he'll produce something incredible. Dwarves truly are something else."
Had Hamar heard that, he might have clutched his chest and collapsed.
Two weeks later.
Clatter clatter clatter!
Hundreds of warhorses thundered across the plains, their riders gripping crossbows typically used by hunters.
"Aim!"
Even at full gallop, the cavalrymen raised their crossbows in unison, targeting a single point.
"Fire!"
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
Three hundred and twelve bolts streaked across the field, raining down upon a pack of prowling gnolls.
Screeeech!
The hyena-like low-tier monsters shrieked in agony as they fell en masse.
A single volley had wiped out over half of the hundred-strong gnoll pack.
Screeeech!
Though the enraged survivors charged, the cavalrymen deftly circled the battlefield, evading them.
Clatter clatter clatter.
Only when the monsters began to tire did the mounted unit wheel around and unleash another synchronized volley.
The result was annihilation.
Yet Logan, watching from the ridge, wore a dissatisfied expression.
"Still not enough. Why does it take so long to finish off such weak stragglers?"
"Lord Logan, this is the limit of crossbows. If you truly want combat-ready forces, mounted archers would—"
"Enough. This will do."
"Pardon?"
"Well, I've confirmed their coordinated movements, and their marksmanship isn't bad considering the training period. Good work. And keep it up."
"Ah... yes. Well, I am being paid for this."
Despite Logan's praise, Kai's expression remained unimpressed.
And rightly so—anyone watching would find it hard to be satisfied with the mercenary band's performance.
As a highly trusted A-rank mercenary, Kai's conscience pricked him, given the substantial pay he received.
'Is this really just child's play? Confusing.'
It would take much longer for his doubts to be resolved.
Another week passed.
"Master! It's done! It's finished!"
From the workshop tucked away in a corner of the villa, Hamar emerged, triumphantly brandishing a stubby crossbow no longer than his forearm.
"Yes, I heard. Let's see it."
But Logan's expression darkened.
He had rushed over at the news of the crossbow's completion, only to find that its appearance didn't match his expectations.
'Why is it so small?'
Smaller weapons inevitably had limited utility—especially projectile weapons like bows and crossbows, where size directly correlated with power.
So Logan's displeased expression was understandable.
"Haha. That face—it's because of the size, isn't it? Don't worry. It performs even better than you asked for."
Recognizing his concern, Hamar boasted confidently and led him outside.
And then...
On a secluded hilltop clearing, torn between worry and anticipation, Logan witnessed for the first time in this life the true genius of a "serious dwarf's" craftsmanship.
Twang!
Whoosh!
Thunk!
With a single release of the string, two bolts tore through the air.
In an instant, they crossed over 300 meters—far exceeding the standard crossbow's effective range of 150 meters—and embedded themselves so deeply into the target that their fletching vanished.
Logan's jaw dropped.
Not only was the crossbow half the size of a standard one, but it had also fired two bolts simultaneously with double the range.
Twang!
Whoosh!
Thunk!
And before five seconds had passed, the same spectacle repeated.
This wasn't two crossbows firing—Hamar had merely pulled a small trigger on the side, automatically reloading the bolts.
The reload time was a mere five seconds.
"Ahem. How is it? Though it fires one fewer projectile than you requested, it's compact enough to wield one-handed, and the magazine is easier to—"
Hamar prattled on with explanations, but Logan wasn't listening.
'The effective range is shorter than the Empire's final version from my memories, but for cavalry, this is far superior.'
One of the weapons he had prepared had surpassed expectations.
And there were still six months left before the territorial war he remembered.
Suddenly, the squat dwarf looked more beautiful than any gemstone.
Without hesitation, Logan grabbed Hamar mid-explanation and lifted him into a spinning hug.
"Ahahahaha! Well done! Brilliant, Hamar! Long live dwarves! No—long live Hamar!"
For this brief moment, the ever-present anxiety gnawing at his chest vanished entirely.
But Hamar, for his part, couldn't enjoy the moment.
"How many?"
"Enough for 400 men."
"400... goddamn it..."
Though the dwarf looked miserable, Logan pressed on without hesitation.
"How long until completion?"
If this could be finished, it would be a tremendous asset for the future he envisioned.
"Generously... six months."
"Get it done in two. Possible?"
Slashing the timeline to a third, Logan's demand made Hamar collapse backward.
"I won't! No—I can't! That's absolutely impossible!"
"You're saying even your best efforts won't be enough?"
"Absolutely not! Have you even considered the manufacturing process? Just modifying prototype bolts to the right length takes—"
"So what do you need?"
"At least five assistants."
Logan's expression hardened.
"The secret of this weapon could leak. That's unacceptable."
"Then there's no choice. Either wait six months or—"
"Tch."
This time, Logan clutched his head in frustration.
Hamar smirked, savoring his first reversal of fortune—
"If I get you five technicians, can you finish in two months?"
"Even that would be difficult. At least three or four—"
"Difficult means it's still possible, right?"
"...Gah."
The reversal lasted only a moment.
"Be clear. Is it possible? If you give it your all?"
"Ugh..."
"It's possible, isn't it?"
"Damn it all..."
The dwarf reluctantly agreed to give his best, and Logan showed no mercy in pushing him further.
"Gah! Fine! Yes, it's possible! I can do it! Damn it, why did I agree to these terms...?"
Only after hearing Hamar's near-tearful reply did Logan leave the workshop with a satisfied smile.