When the estranged father and son reunited, they had much to say to each other. After guiding Burdell to the place where he would stay, they immediately turned to face each other with the same question in their eyes.

“What on earth happened?”

“What’s the situation? What about Cancun and Banjoni?”

“…”

“…”

As the similarly colored red eyes met, the slightly younger one smirked and nodded.

“Yes. Let me share my story first.”

Logan recounted everything without omission—the events in the Empire, his journey to becoming a superhuman, the rebellion suppression, and all that transpired with the king.

As Padric listened to the long tale, he alternated between amazement and somber understanding, nodding his head repeatedly.

“Given all that, your relationship with His Majesty seems to be beyond repair. What do you plan to do from here?”

“I intend to change the mood of the nation.”

“Mood?”

“Yes. I want to create a current that would make it difficult to oppose without also going against public sentiment.”

“Is that even possible… No, even if it is, wouldn’t it only be temporary? Aren’t you burdening Sword Master with too much…?”

Padric couldn’t shake off his concern, and even Logan breathed a small sigh of agreement.

Padric then shook his head disapprovingly and lamented.

“How terrifying power can be. To think the once known astute prince has changed so much in less than two years…”

“It hasn’t even been two years. It started before I left for the Empire… Ah…?”

While chuckling in agreement, Logan suddenly had a disturbing thought.

‘…Right, does it make sense to oppose a benefactor just a year after ascension?’

Doubts he hadn’t considered during the rushed moments of crisis now lingered uncomfortably.

Nurturing that uncertainty, Logan felt particularly annoyed by the man who was always by the king’s side.

‘Cleo, was it? He’s definitely suspicious. I should have him investigated, even if it means resorting to extreme measures.’

As he collected his thoughts, Padric, who witnessed the changing expression of his son, asked with concern.

“Is something bothering you?”

“Ah, no. By the way, why did you bring only Burdell back? I thought it would be easier to recruit Cancun since he is a mercenary—not to mention Banjoni.”

“Ha… That guy openly provoked me.”

The short sigh from his father carried a myriad of emotions.

“He said he had no intention of being hired by some unknown countryside kingdom, as he was meant to become a significant figure in the Empire. If truly needed, he would consider temporary employment for a month…”

“You should have hired him for that month and tried to persuade him.”

Logan couldn’t help but feel a tinge of regret.

Cancun was arguably the individual who later unified numerous mercenary guilds in the Empire and was known as the Mercenary King.

Of course, this happened many years after the Empire’s war, but Cancun was indeed a talent of such caliber.

And then…

“He demanded one million gold for a month.”

Logan’s expression turned sour at the thought.

One million gold—that was the jokingly high price used as a bargaining chip to recruit a 5th circle mage.

To think a superhuman was demanding that for a month’s service?

“…He was insane. Ah, so that was the provocation.”

“That’s right. His character wasn’t mentioned in any reports. It suited my needs when he caused his own downfall.”

It was either employ or die.

Padric smiled, thinking how he never expected to so easily fulfill the conditions his son had pleaded with him to maintain.

“After reaching the top tier, his arrogance took over. The greenhorn…”

Padric recalled the relatively new top-tier mercenary who aggressively pursued him, even in their thirties.

He completely understood what his son meant as he watched the man evolve moment by moment during their combat. Ultimately, the mercenary was killed by a noble of the kingdom—a village king—and injured by a peasant.

“Thanks to escaping that city, we were immediately pursued by Cancun’s mercenary gang. Without Burdell’s help, we wouldn’t have made it back.”

Only then did Logan understand the scars on his father’s face.

“You’ve been through a lot…”

“I’m not done yet.”

“Excuse me?”

“The man you mentioned, Banjoni, was even worse. The boss of the unified crime syndicate Evil One in Rugalheim. Ha… I still can’t believe it. A criminal boss superhuman.”

“Superhuman?!”

“Yes. Banjoni was already a superhuman. It would’ve been my end if he realized my intentions.”

Padric clenched his teeth with a stern expression.

“Heh…”

Logan let out a sardonic laugh followed by a quiet sigh.

He had considered that possibility.

The Empire’s war was only four years away.

It was more likely that Banjoni had already become a superhuman rather than unexpectedly gaining the power later on.

‘But if that were the case, given Banjoni’s nature, he would have already laundered his identity…’

Padric immediately resolved the lingering question in Logan’s mind.

“At first, he actively sought a position in the open, claiming he was looking for a way out.”

“That Banjoni?”

“Yes. His tune changed when he realized I was noble from a kingdom and not an empire.”

“Hmm.”

“Anyway, when I requested his help to deal with Cancun’s mercenary gang in pursuit, he seemed thrilled about the large funds. It left me broke, but…”

“At least you were fortunate then.”

“Yes. Their presence gave me an excuse to escape the monster. The little monster that is.”

Logan nodded, remembering Banjoni’s details.

Not a dwarf, but still very short of stature, his huge mole dominating half his face, and those shimmering grey eyes.

That was the emblematic appearance of Banjoni, also known as Evil Sword, a superhuman who later became infamous.

His supposed complexes about his appearance drove his relentless pursuit of skill—a superhuman who could’ve been hailed as a triumph over tough circumstances but instead vented his twisted desires on the vulnerable, committing countless atrocities.

In five years, or rather four, he would join the Empire’s war as a superhuman mercenary.

‘He must be stopped immediately.’

His father had done his best and even faced unexpected life-threatening events.

Bringing that up again would only seem like criticizing his efforts.

“I’m ashamed. If only I had more skill…”

“Don’t say that, Father.”

Logan embraced his father’s shoulders, which had turned stern, and smiled.

“Your efforts in killing Cancun and bringing Burdell are enough. You’ve done well. I will take care of Banjoni myself.”

“Alright. I trust you.”

“Yes.”

While some preparations for the future turned out slightly different than expected, steps were being taken bit by bit.

* * *

Logan immediately began working on the flow he had mentioned. He implemented the overall plan that had developed Maclaine, including the dam and rotary crossbow, and publicized the criteria for recruiting soldiers throughout the kingdom.

The response was overwhelming.

– The strength of Maclaine’s soldiers lay in this.

– A new farming method that turned wastelands into arable land.

– With this, even we could…!

Dams began construction across every territory with rivers and wastelands.

Kingdom-wide, the standards for selecting soldiers were uniformly revised.

Despite cries from the peasantry forced to participate in the midst of a farming season, the kingdom was undeniably changing.

Moreover, Logan’s announcement increased the momentum of these changes.

– If you lack the know-how for dam construction, I’ll visit and assist with the design and construction. If finances are an issue, I am willing to lend the funds.

Logan was not only offering financial aid but also:

– If there is any confusion about the recruitment and training process for soldiers, I will send a knight to personally refine it.

He introduced an aggressive policy to share his expertise, which even perplexed Maclaine’s own retainers.

Noble estates across the kingdom rejoiced, eager to follow the current created by Maclaine.

There were even instances of initiating female military units, which otherwise would have been hard to accept in Grandia.

This outcome even surprised Logan.

‘I thought such prejudices wouldn’t break so easily.’

Eileen Floyd was the first female knight and Logan Maclaine’s fiancée.

A strong woman became a new trend of the era.

Even so, nobody could have guessed that the rumor, which started in the kingdom’s social circles, would grow and lead such a transformation.

These shifts were not only according to Logan’s design but also clearly demonstrated that Maclaine was leading the kingdom’s trend.

Apart from political or military reasons, nobles who opposed Maclaine practically vanished in the kingdom’s landscape.

During this time, Logan received reports confirming the completion of two objectives.

[We have finished setting up branches throughout the kingdom.]

“Well done, Philip.”

They established commercial branch offices openly across the kingdom and:

[We have successfully infiltrated the majority of the nobles’ homes. Now, none of the kingdom’s noble movements can escape our ‘Flame’s Eye’.]

“Well done, Damian.”

A private intelligence network was secured.

All these achievements were realized in just half a year.

The days had been a non-stop marathon.

Looking out the window, the first sunrise of the new year rose amidst the white snow.

‘Only three and a half years left until the Empire’s war.’

The flow of time felt oppressively swift, but he was slowly coming to life.

“The current is now created. All that’s left is to accelerate.”

As Logan smiled with this thought, someone else furrowed their brow for the same reasons.

Bang!

“Who’s the king here? Who is it!”

Upon entering his private study, the King slammed the bookshelf in anger.

“Why, during a time of peace, is that man endlessly increasing his army…!”

After venting out his frustration, he saw the attendants cowering and forced himself to suppress his anger.

“Cough. The stress of state affairs has gotten to me. You may leave, and bring the inner palace chief.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the attendants quickly departed, the King pretended to be calm but paced the room with restlessness, pondering his next move.

– Your Majesty, it’s Cleo.

“Come in!”

Carefully opening the door, a nondescript middle-aged official entered and bowed deeply to the King.

“Your Majesty, I heard you were looking for me.”

“Yes. I want to hear your opinion.”

“Sir?”

“Isn’t it destroying our nation’s traditions to turn women into soldiers?”

“Ah, well… Of course that’s so.”

“And what about drilling holes into mountains unnecessarily during times of plenty to increase farmland?”

“…Sir?”

“Isn’t that damaging the country’s vital energy?”

“You are, undoubtedly, correct.”

“That’s right. I’m making rational arguments, but those so-called ministers only side with him. Is there nothing left for me, the King, to do? Do you think this makes sense?!”

As the King unleashed his rage, Cleo could only bow repeatedly.

“Your wise views just escape those ignorant fools. Please, don’t worry yourself.”

The King didn’t traditionally intervene in the internal affairs of the territorial nobility, and everyone benefited from the practical policies in place—anyone who refused alone would be considered a fool unfit to be a ruler.

However, Cleo simply soothed the King with flattery, playing the classic sycophant.

Although it was the behavior of a stereotypical villainous official, it was precisely what the King wanted to hear.

After some time passed,

“…Now I feel somewhat better. You’re truly a godsend.”

“It’s nothing, Your Majesty. If my existence can alleviate even a bit of your worries, what wouldn’t I do for you.”

With these utterly fawning words, the King smiled and turned to him.

“Sigh… Yes, that’s precisely why I’m troubled. If only there were more like you among my subjects.”

“Logan Maclaine’s influence is strong; it’s inevitable.”

“That’s it. That’s the biggest problem.”

“Your Majesty…?”

“I need to find a certain remedy. It can’t continue like this.”

Outwardly calm, but inside the King’s heart, a perilous flame burned, casting a strange light in his eyes.

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