The Plan Takes Shape
Vidion, revered as one of the Seven Great Heroes, had never once felt powerless throughout his life. Even against fellow heroes, he had always believed that with desperate resolve, he would not lose. Though he had not drawn out his full strength, he now felt ashamed of how arrogantly he had looked down on his opponent and spoken as if his own skill were superior.
Seeing Bagan standing calmly after their duel, Vidion could not help but let out a hollow laugh.
‘If he hadn’t stopped just now, I might have died.’
Reinhardt’s swordsmanship was precise and lethal. That was why Vidion already bore a wound on his chest. Bagan’s final strike had aimed for the neck. If he had taken that heavy sword head-on, even summoning his true form would not have guaranteed his safety.
‘You… feeling fear.’
Fear. Even in his ignorant youth, that word had never suited him. Yet if anything now stirred his heart, it was the terror of death. Death was relative, especially death by lifespan. A fly’s life ended quickly, so it had to live to the fullest even in its brief time. To a Dragonian like himself, human lives might seem just as fleeting. After all, Dragonians were known to live over three hundred years. That was why he had never lived fiercely. He had simply coasted on his talent and earned the title of one of the Seven Great Heroes.
‘Now that I’ve faced death, the world looks different.’
He was not strong. He had seen countless powerful beings, but after witnessing Bagan casually chatting with his uncle as though the duel had meant nothing, his perspective shifted. The match forced him to abandon the belief that he possessed talent and was a genius in combat. Now was the time for effort.
“Vidion!”
“Hm?”
Even after the duel ended, Vidion had remained motionless with Epentes planted in the ground. He responded to the call.
“I learned a lot. Facing someone called a hero really is difficult.”
It was Bagan. Despite his victory, he showed no arrogance and instead reflected on the duel as a valuable lesson.
“Is that so? You looked quite relaxed from my perspective.”
“Me? No way. I pretended to block easily, but when I stopped that spear throw, I really thought I was dead.”
Bagan smiled brightly as he shared his thoughts on the match. Anyone watching could see he was focused purely on learning, regardless of victory or defeat. Seeing that, Vidion wondered if he alone had been too lost in his own thoughts.
“I misunderstood.”
“About what?”
Vidion’s expression had grown quite serious, prompting Bagan to ask curiously.
“I was completely focused on the fact that I lost, while you simply said the lesson was good. Is that how one grows stronger? Was I ignorant of the proper way to become stronger?”
He asked Bagan as though he had gained some insight. If this counted as enlightenment, then so be it. Though Vidion’s skill was far beyond that of a frog in a well, his overconfidence in his own abilities had led to this outcome. Yet none of that mattered to Bagan. Vidion simply needed to remain as he was—steadfastly holding his place among the Seven Great Heroes.
The only thing Bagan could say was, “You’re already plenty strong as it is.”
“Exactly. Lord Vidion, that guy is just abnormally strong.”
Gion answered in his stead.
“Indeed, it seems that way. I never imagined our Vidion would lose a duel. Still, defeat isn’t entirely bad. It becomes the driving force behind the desire to win.”
Montihall’s words struck Vidion’s heart. That was precisely what he was feeling now.
“As you said, Uncle, I’m filled with a stronger desire to grow than ever before.”
“Yes, that’s the right mindset. There is no single path to strength, but the heavens are not closed either. The extent to which one can grow is not decided by others.”
Montihall’s words resonated deeply with Vidion. Bagan also agreed. Though his own strength came from countless fortuitous encounters, he too had never neglected effort for even a moment. If his growth had been even slightly slower, Palamus would have taken over his body by now. The thought sent a chill down his spine once more.
‘Back then, I really did everything I could just to survive.’
(Mm, and that’s how you survived. It seems that willpower of yours will let you endure this harsh world.)
Sally, who had watched Bagan more closely than anyone, acknowledged that he had never been lazy.
Bagan nodded firmly and approached Montihall.
“So, with this level of strength, I should be able to achieve my goal, right?”
Montihall did not hesitate for even a moment.
“More than enough. In fact, it’s more than sufficient. I’ll stake everything I have—De Meca will support your will.”
“Thank you for going that far.”
With a smile, Montihall and Bagan shook hands to seal their promise.
‘Hm?’
Lilia, who had always been mischievous, now looked embarrassed—completely unlike her usual self. Her face was flushed, making Bagan wonder if she was unwell.
“Y-You were amazing.”
Those were the first shy words to leave Lilia’s lips. They were filled with affection, though it felt more like fan admiration than romantic love. That was how Bagan perceived it.
“Thanks.”
“Hiee~”
When Bagan spoke to her, Lilia hid even further behind Montihall, unable to show her face as she shrank back more and more.
‘Is she really that embarrassed?’
(Haa… You’re so dense.)
Sally could only feel exasperated at Bagan’s inability to fully grasp the other person’s emotions.
***
The conversation in the training ground ended, and upon returning to the castle, the group sat in the VIP room used for welcoming distinguished guests, enjoying tea and refreshments. Though it was late, there was still an important discussion to be had. It was time to hear the concrete plan.
“So, if you intend to liberate all the slaves across the continent, do you have a specific plan?”
Montihall asked, wanting to hear Bagan’s thoughts.
“First, we need to deal with the nearby Sog Kingdom.”
“Then let’s do that.”
“Huh? Without even hearing more?”
Bagan wondered for a moment if his ears were playing tricks on him.
“War could break out.”
No matter how much of a lord of De Meca he was, or a Dragonian of royal blood, or brother to the king of Seiros, war carried a different weight. This was not a decision Montihall could make alone. With all the leaders of Seiros Kingdom needing to convene, what gave him such confidence? The answer came in Montihall’s next words.
“Seven years ago, we fought Sog Kingdom over territorial rights to the Moral Mountain Range. We’re currently in a ceasefire, and while there’s no justification for another war, justifications can always be manufactured. Sog Kingdom has crossed the line more than once or twice.”
Montihall seemed to have already made up his mind. Then he delivered the decisive line.
“When I met my brother recently, he said it was a shame. We had nearly won the war, but the prolonged conflict had cost us too much.”
To Bagan, those words were decisive. The king himself must have regretted letting a nearly won war slip away.
“Does that mean the king is also considering war?”
“Yes. If war is inevitable anyway, shouldn’t it be for the right cause?”
Montihall’s words made sense. This time it would not be a dispute over ownership. If Seiros Kingdom, which favored multiple races, waged war under the banner of racial rights to abolish slavery, the justification would be sufficient. Moreover, if that happened, they could also divide Sog Kingdom’s forces or bring them to Seiros’s side.
‘The noble faction and the orthodox faction will split.’
(Didn’t Reina say her family was part of the orthodox faction?)
‘Yeah.’
With the noble faction’s authority growing stronger by the day, an opportunity like this would never come again.
“Then, for now, our visible goal is to prepare for war by cleaning up all the underworld organizations in Seiros Kingdom.”
“And the reason for that is?”
“Because the underworld, deeply tied to slavery, sees Sog Kingdom’s slave system as their money source.”
“So you’re cutting off their involvement in the war in advance to prevent them from trying to protect that income?”
True to his ability to read situations, Montihall gave the perfect answer. Bagan nodded and glanced at the others’ reactions. Gion was trying to memorize every piece of secret information by writing down anything noteworthy. Vidion, true to his heroic deeds in the war seven years ago, was burning with determination, clearly aware that he would be needed again.
At that moment, Gion asked a question that had occurred to him.
“I’ll handle tipping off the orthodox nobles before the war—that can be left to Lady Reina. But I don’t know how the underworld organizations in other regions are structured. What do you plan to do about that?”
Bagan thumped his chest and replied with an expression that said, “Don’t you remember who I am?”
“Did you forget who I am? I’m the one who wiped out De Meca’s underworld.”
While Bagan proudly shared this information, everyone except Gion looked surprised.
“You were the one who dealt with our city’s underworld?”
“Ah, Brother, didn’t I mention it?”
Gion scratched his head and spoke as if it were his own achievement.
“This guy is the one who uprooted the deeply entrenched underworld in De Meca.”
Montihall stared at Gion as if to say, “Why haven’t you explained something so important until now?”
“How embarrassing.”
Bagan laughed awkwardly, while Vidion’s reaction was one of complete acceptance.
“As expected, you’re an impressive person.”
Lilia was once again quietly nurturing her own fan admiration.
“I thought it was Gion’s doing until now. My apologies.”
“Well, Gion was the one who directly killed the leader, so it’s not entirely wrong.”
“I see. In any case, as lord of De Meca, I offer my thanks.”
Bagan waved off Montihall’s simultaneous apology and gratitude, saying it was nothing special.