5 — 1 (4)

“Anyway, the future looks pitch-dark….”

“I heard the Kingdom of Haiden started a war, right?”

“Won’t the sparks fly all the way to Eron…?”

Even the rank-and-file soldiers could feel it on their skin. Things were hard, both at home and abroad. Louis wondered what exactly he ought to do in the present situation.

It was getting a bit complicated.

‘First, Father will chew me out.’

‘The real beginning… is after that.’

Louis felt stifled and stepped outside. He had not fully recovered, but this was his first time coming out of the carriage. The medic was dozing off to one side, having nursed Louis through the night.

The carriage door swung fully open.

The timing was astonishing. Just moments ago, two soldiers had been slouching and chatting, but now they snapped to attention with razor-edged posture. This level of discipline was not something one saw among the second brother’s troops. As for the eldest brother’s soldiers, Louis had never in his life seen them square their shoulders this much for him.

‘Military… charisma….’

The charisma of the great khan named Genghis Khan had seeped into Louis through the Civilization System. In other words, Louis presently had nothing to his name but the status of Pontina’s bastard son—yet his spirit was that of Genghis Khan, the conqueror of the widest realm.

“Sir… all clear on duty. You’re awake, my lord.”

The two did not dare look back; they stood stiffly facing forward. Now that the barbarians had clearly withdrawn, even the rotation troops—famous for lax discipline—were not this formal with him. Not even Adjutant Dekal, who led them, received such treatment.

The soldiers swallowed hard.

‘He’s… a different man.’

‘They say a brush with death changes you… As expected of Duke Remitri’s son… bastard or not, he’s the son of a lion….’

“Where… are we now?”

“Two days from Jaksen.”

Dekal had remained in the city as Louis’s proxy to handle the aftermath of the sacking.

Since the pillaging had gone on for at least two days, the city’s condition was anyone’s guess.

Still, two days was not enough time to loot both provisions and finances. They would have had to choose one or the other. Supplies could not be moved overnight; overreaching would let a pursuit force catch up and take them back. Mobility was the essence of raiding. Judging by the extraordinariness of the man named Atila, Louis thought the additional pursuit force Dekal organized was doomed to fail.

What barbarians wanted was usually simple.

They did not really handle money. They focused on two things—grain and women. But Louis could not guess how it had gone this time.

Centurion Ider and Centurion Peter were busy bad-mouthing Young Lord Louis. Being under Fred’s command, that was par for the course. In their eyes, Louis’s birth was dubious and he was unmanly. On top of that, he had never managed to rally soldiers of his own. Since they fundamentally looked down on barbarians, Louis—robbed by them without lifting a finger—struck them as laughable.

“Did you see how Young Lord Louis looked when we rescued him?”

“No.”

“It was hilarious. Like a little mouse. Heh heh….”

As they were joking around, Peter noticed the two soldiers standing at rigid attention.

With a suddenly solemn face, Peter said,

“Looks like he’s up.”

Seeing them show Louis a posture they had never once shown to him annoyed Peter. Louis was the third son who didn’t deserve that treatment. If succession disputes flared up, the odds were high his head would roll anyway. Ider, itching to mouth off to a high-born noble, felt his chance had come.

How many chances did a commoner like him get to order a noble—let alone a duke’s son—around?

He sauntered over to Louis.

But when he actually drew near to the “pushover” Louis, the man looked different.

Something vast… pressed down on him.

‘W-what… Is he even the same person…?’

He felt he shouldn’t have come, but with Peter smiling behind him, pride forced him to speak.

Ider had seen Louis dozens of times, but this was the first time Louis’s Military Charisma was in effect.

It was, in effect, a first impression.

What faced him was the shadow of the great khan, Genghis Khan.

Whether he knew it or not, Ider’s mind went blank.

He felt as if he ought to revere this man—but with the Military Charisma still at a low level, Louis could not fully channel Genghis Khan’s presence, so Ider’s resistance—his slight mana—kicked in against Louis’s civilization skill.

In short, he still had the guts to say a word to the young lord he had thought so easy.

Louis glanced at Ider as if to ask what business he had, and Ider—having resolved not to speak first—blurted out reflexively.

“…Y-Young Lord Louis, you’ve regained consciousness.”

“Yeah. And you are?”

“…Centurion Ider, sir.”

“Right. Our first meeting, then.”

Ider, who had meant to speak impertinently, ended up using the most honorific speech once he saw Louis’s face.

“I… have seen you a few times, my lord.”

“Have you? Where are you posted?”

“…More importantly, you should return to the carriage. You are not fully recovered. Moving around is dangerous.”

“I felt stifled, so I stepped out.”

“Even so, please return to the carriage… It is Adjutant Dekal’s order that you do so…”

Only then did Louis grasp the situation. He had been through this more than once. Without soldiers of his own, even moving was hard in practice. It was not the first time he’d been squeezed by territorialism, if not outright bullying.

Yet the centurion’s attitude was oddly respectful. Seeing the two still standing ramrod straight, Louis recalled his skill.

‘Right.’

A centurion could wield at least a little mana—that set him apart from common soldiers. Thus, with that slight mana, he had resisted the skill… so Louis conjectured.

Even so, among the eldest brother’s centurions, none had ever been this respectful to him.

Louis found it curious but also irritating. He had always endured and ducked his head, but now that he bore Genghis Khan’s charisma, he felt no need to keep doing so.

“What if I refuse?”

The unexpected reply stuck Ider’s words in his throat.

“W-well… it’s just—”

“I came out because I wanted to. Got a problem with that? Whether it’s an order from Adjutant Dekal or whatever—if there’s a problem, tell Dekal to come to me himself.”

Peter had expected a show and watched Ider with interest, but things were taking a strange turn. Not knowing what on earth was going on, he decided he had to step in. He had already whispered to nearby soldiers that there might be something entertaining.

But as Louis pressed Ider instead, Peter’s pride stung, and that got him on his feet.

And as he strode over, he soon realized why Ider couldn’t move.

Louis was a completely different person. An unknown force pressed down on Peter.

“…What’s going on, Ider?”

“Ah, it’s… about Adjutant Dekal’s order. Since Young Lord Louis said he wished to look around, I told him to return to the carriage…”

“Our chain of command… is under Young Lord Fred, so Adjutant Dekal’s orders take precedence. Please return to the carriage…”

Just then, another utility of Louis’s Military Charisma took effect: intimidation against the hostile. Majesty shifted into intimidation, and Peter and Ider soon became mice before a cat.

In objective force, they were overwhelming—of course they were. They had seen real combat and war, learned mana, and trained with the sword daily. Louis, on the other hand, was a green youth who had barely even held a blade. But with the intimidation effect active, Louis was overwhelming them psychologically.

Peter could not finish his sentence and cleared his throat.

“A-hem.”

Watching the change as the intimidation icon popped up in his information window, Louis laughed inwardly.

Fascinating. While he was at it, he might as well press a little harder.

“How very displeasing. Tell Dekal to report to me directly after he cleans this up—and through him, tell Brother Fred this: his centurion showed utter disrespect to the House of Pontina.”

Ordinarily, such a threat would mean nothing to them. Dekal would surely make excuses and ignore the command, and even if the message reached Fred, Fred would not care. In fact, having such rough centurions was a point of pride for Fred….

But the single line Louis uttered now landed like a death sentence on the two men, already psychologically cowed.

Under pressure greater than even Duke Remitri’s, head of House Pontina, Ider and Peter spoke reflexively:

“We’re sorry!”

It was the first time Louis had ever received such an instant apology from swaggering centurions.

Neither dared look at him; both bowed their heads.

With this, he had perfect confirmation that the skill he had invested in through the Civilization System worked in reality.

‘Military Charisma… astounding.’

“Return to your posts.”

“……….“

“……….“