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I stared at it carefully, trying to determine the identity of this slightly misshapen sphere.

After returning to Eilqueel, I was stunned to find no apron.

Even so, the thing I tried putting on was clearly a baby’s bib.

At that point I had no choice but to make one, and with no way to back down, I used a white bedsheet to fashion something resembling it.

Putting aside the fact I’d gained extra baggage, I headed north as planned to enter the Kingdom of Canaan’s territory.

While I was at it, I cut through the midnight forest and revisited the ruins of Rukudil to check for anything overlooked.

I didn’t know if it paid off, but near the outskirts of Rukudil I detected a magical reaction.

And now I was examining a round, stone-like object that seemed to be its source.

‘Obviously placed intentionally. If it were on the ground that’d be one thing, but hanging from a tree leaves no doubt.’

For what purpose?

I first considered that.

A magical item set in a place like this—its uses were limited.

“An alarm,” I muttered, concluding it warned of some approaching presence.

Then what was that “something”?

‘Has to be me…’

If something else existed, I’d love to see it.

Nine times out of ten it would be another genetically enhanced soldier like me.

I’d rather refuse the previously mentioned Behemoth type.

Since I lacked pure combat skill, an opponent brute force didn’t work on was honestly frightening.

Even as I thought that, I examined the magic source stone.

“Oh, this is…”

Its stone-like appearance came from adhered paint and clay-like material.

After removing them, it revealed a translucent spherical mineral.

The center glowed faintly—an unmistakable magic tool.

And the removed paint and clay also gave off faint magical reactions.

‘I see—they hid the core visually and magically.’

I admired the ingenuity—then remembered it was meant for me.

“Looks like they’re finally getting serious,” I thought, heightening my caution.

I thought I’d seen the upper limit of Canaan, but if they were bringing this out now, they likely still had cards left.

They definitely seized Imperial weapons, and I was sure only a few remained.

But what if they threw all of them at me?

‘I wouldn’t come out unscathed. If my legs get damaged it’d be troublesome… better take precautions.’

Current potions: two blue, three green, one red.

They’d fluctuated over time to this number.

The red one restored magic power, a rare item traded in the elven village.

Blue healed, green detoxified—both were high-grade according to appraisal.

I’d accidentally broken such valuables before, so I deeply regretted not confirming value sooner.

I changed course northwest toward that cave from before.

With the research target gone, the place had become deserted—perfect for hiding potion insurance.

Avoid being ambushed while carrying everything and ending up fighting without potions if my backpack was targeted.

I nodded in satisfaction from a human perspective at such proper risk management for a monster, set down my pack in the cave, and hid one blue and one green bottle in a marked rock crevice.

‘That captain probably already admitted I have potions. They’ll target my baggage—so splitting them is safest.’

Before, I’d drop my backpack before fights, but after the previous forced retreat and rearming, losing it became a real risk.

There was no way Canaan hadn’t noticed I kept supplies nearby.

But with this move, even losing equipment and retreating injured left me able to fight again.

Being a former human, I could clearly predict Canaan’s next move.

“Would be embarrassing if I’m wrong,” I laughed and went outside.

Dawn was still a ways off.

I’d prepare a few more tricks.

The sun rose.

With my slightly heavier backpack, I moved hidden through Canaan territory.

Originally I planned to grab salt and shop lightly at the mall, but since they were clearly preparing for me, I decided to engage a bit to gauge their seriousness.

Naturally I wouldn’t hold back either.

To diversify risk I split potions and filled my pack with rubble and stones suitable for throwing.

I worried about the backpack’s durability, but ranged attacks made a huge difference—so I trusted two-hundred-year-old synthetic fibers.

If it seemed risky I’d lighten the load, but no dangerous signs appeared.

“Imperial quality as expected,” I boasted, heading first toward a town built to develop the south.

Before arriving I sensed magical reactions twice in empty areas.

Likely similar to last night’s device, but I couldn’t find the actual items.

“Disposable items that vanish after use?” I guessed, proceeding under camouflage assuming my presence was known.

That prediction proved correct.

Upon arrival, the town was eerily silent.

‘Yeah… battle readiness.’

They roughly knew my position too—lookout soldiers stared toward me.

“Attacking head-on is the worst move…”

With high alert, rushing in blindly would play into their hands—and I didn’t like that.

My goal was salt; disrupting logistics too early was premature.

Since vigilance had just begun, a strategist waits for relaxation.

‘So basically teasing tactics!’

Probably lingering effects from the erotic books I planned to bring home, but simply put—humans can’t maintain tension forever.

I could also detour, secure salt elsewhere, then clash with prepared forces.

In any case, I wasn’t foolish enough to fight on their prepared field.

“With two defeats they’re cornered… drawing them out should work.”

Causing a disturbance elsewhere to lure forces would ensure advantage.

Last time I won the battle but failed to seize the spirit sword, and the wielder escaped.

I hadn’t let my guard down, yet still failed.

As a not-even-twenty youth in real age, overturning their tactical advantage was difficult.

Knowing that, caution was natural.

‘I don’t know what they prepared, but I won’t play along.’

I chuckled softly and left.

Next destination: the fortress city Emeriade on the western border with the Republic.

First stage—secure the target along the road leading there.

If the road guarding the border and blocking monster entry was effectively sealed, the gathered forces would have to go there.

Ambush and annihilate them, then take what I failed to last time from the spirit sword wielder.

Close to my backup stash—perfect plan.

If successful, Canaan would stop trying to subjugate me.

My evaluation of the kingdom had risen since the beginning.

I’d held back somewhat, but I hadn’t expected them to resist this much.

Though once disappointed, Canaan truly was useful to me.

I wouldn’t voice two-hundred-year-old grudges, but perhaps something unresolved inside me would clear.

An amateur prediction, but this would likely settle the conflict.

As long as I didn’t ravage the land excessively, they’d tolerate some damage.

The result was uncertain, but no nation wanted results not worth the cost.

The Republic would refuse subjugation, and Seizeria—hostile rivals—would likely declare war if Canaan showed weakness.

Meaning Canaan had to handle me alone; mismanage and nobles revolt, commit too much and Seizeria attacks.

“…Did Canaan just get checkmated?”

I muttered while running west through the forest after dropping camouflage.

Well, it all depended on the final battle—but I didn’t feel like losing, and had no intention of stopping now.

After all, the fact they “pulled the trigger of the great war” weighed heavier on me than expected.