The Hidden Ending Strategy of a Veteran in a Dead Game

Chapter 7: Granting Permission for the Cultivation Technique

While Kellen trained diligently in the training grounds, attempting to create a skill, Nohr prepared himself and headed to the study where the head of the family resided.

Knock, knock.

“Enter.”

The Count of Bayerle, busy tending to delayed paperwork, granted entry, and the door swung open.

Stepping inside was Nohr von Bayerle, the family’s esteemed knight and tutor to the family head.

Duarc von Bayerle’s expression softened at the sight.

“Nohr, it’s been a while.”

“This place is always so gloomy. Why not light some lamps for once?”

“The darkness doesn’t bother me.”

“Wait until you’re older. Even your eyes will betray you then.”

Nohr spoke casually, even with the Count.

His many achievements, the status of being a mentor, and the Bayerle family’s tradition of respecting strength allowed for such informality.

It also helped that Nohr had no interest in exerting influence within the family. His character made him trustworthy.

Creak.

The Count leaned back against his chair—a relaxed posture rarely seen from him.

To Duarc, Nohr was not just a teacher but also a comrade who had fought alongside him on the battlefield for many years.

In some ways, Duarc trusted Nohr more than even his own wife.

“So, have you given it any thought?”

“You mean going to the capital? Hah! A knight belongs on the battlefield and the training ground, not playing political games.”

The Count had repeatedly suggested that Nohr establish himself in the capital.

Given Nohr’s fame and skill, the Imperial Court would welcome him.

In fact, the Imperial Palace had already invited Nohr to oversee knight training, even offering him an official position.

Nohr, however, had only stayed in the capital for two weeks before returning to the Bayerle estate. The Imperial Knight Order had left the position open, awaiting his potential return.

Nohr was, without question, a figure respected across the Empire.

“For the Bayerle family to unseat House Jamal, we’ll need the Emperor’s approval. At the very least, we must secure a justification. You’re aware of this.”

The Count’s desire to send Nohr to the capital wasn’t solely for the family’s prestige.

It was a political necessity.

The Bayerle family, which had toppled countless noble houses, had once been the undisputed rulers of the South.

However, 80 years ago, the Imperial Court had granted the Marcher Lord title to House Jamal, forcing Bayerle to cede the position.

The family’s ambition was to reclaim the Marcher Lordship before the century mark.

Duarc von Bayerle hoped to achieve this feat during his tenure.

If Nohr could establish ties within the capital, an eventual territorial war with House Jamal would not be out of reach.

Justifications could always be manufactured.

“Send that remarkable eldest son of yours instead. The capital is too complicated and filthy for an old man like me.”

It was a clear refusal.

The Count had anticipated this response.

Nohr was ill-suited for the political arena—a realm rife with schemes and treachery.

If it were a straightforward battlefield, perhaps. But not politics.

‘It’ll have to be Zarhil.’

The Count resolved to send his eldest son to the capital.

With his striking appearance and exceptional abilities, Zarhil was the most promising among his children.

Though his overly stoic demeanor was a flaw, his ability to conceal emotions could be a political asset.

Zarhil’s destination would be the Imperial Academy, one of the Empire’s most prestigious institutions.

Reserved for royalty, nobility, and a few affluent commoners, the academy not only provided a top-tier education but also—

‘It’s an excellent place to build connections.’

The academy was where the Empire’s future leaders converged.

Admission was restricted to those aged 16 to 18.

Next year, Zarhil would turn 18—coinciding with his coming-of-age ceremony and the Grand Tournament.

The Count planned to secure Zarhil’s admission by sponsoring him extensively under the pretext of celebrating his coming of age.

“And what brings you here today?”

The now-disinterested Count asked.

“I’m opening the Iron Library. There’s someone I wish to pass down a cultivation technique to.”

Nohr spoke without hesitation.

The Iron Library was a collection of verified cultivation techniques, amassed from defeated noble houses.

While Nohr oversaw the library, opening it required the Count’s approval.

“Someone has caught your eye?”

“Yes, Kellen.”

Kellen?

For a moment, the Count was puzzled.

He recognized the name—it was his second son—but he hadn’t expected it to come from Nohr.

Kellen was a child with little promise. Though kind-hearted, he lacked talent in combat and was utterly unsuited to knighthood or magic.

While Kellen had shown some intriguing behavior at recent dinners, that was the extent of it.

It took the Count a moment to process Nohr’s words fully.

“That boy is a genius!”

“Kellen’s abilities have already been assessed. He has no aptitude for swordsmanship, nor any talent as a knight. Magic is out of the question.”

“I agree with that.”

“…??”

Has Nohr finally lost his mind?

Before the Count’s pity could deepen, Nohr continued.

“He lacks any talent for wielding swords or other weapons. But as a martial artist, his potential surpasses anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“A martial artist?”

While not common, martial artists did exist within the Empire.

Most remained at the level of basic self-defense, but—

“Harang. You remember that name, don’t you? The scars he left on you should still be there.”

Some martial artists possessed strength so overwhelming they could shift the tides of battle.

The Count knew this well.

A long scar on his chest was a reminder of the martial artist from the East who had left it.

“That man was a beastkin. His species gave him an advantage.”

“Are knights any different? The continent is teeming with species stronger than humans. Yet, humans drove them out and claimed the land. What matters isn’t the species but the strength, techniques, and cultivation method used.”

With Nohr’s conviction so firm, the Count could only relent.

“Do as you wish.”

“Also, I’ll be leaving the estate for a few days. There happens to be someone skilled in martial arts visiting the territory.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“Hah! That’s why I’m going personally. It won’t take long.”

“Good luck, then.”

With that, Nohr left the study.

“Hmm.”

The Count sat in a room shrouded in darkness, absent of even a single lamp.

Tuk, tuk.

His fingers tapped rhythmically as he pondered.

Kellen.

Aside from being the child of his deceased wife, there was little reason to pay attention to him. Yet something about Kellen had compelled Nohr to act so fervently.

The words Kellen had spoken during the recent banquet came to mind.

— I will become a wolf. A wolf that bites and tears at whatever goal I pursue.

Whether he truly became a wolf or not, the Count decided he would confirm it with his own eyes.

“Shureg.”

“You called, my lord?”

A man emerged from the shadows, his presence so faint that one wouldn’t notice him without direct focus.

Shureg had become a discreet retainer of the family four years ago. 

Since then, he had provided numerous ideas that revitalized the Bayerle Family. 

Proficient in information gathering, tracking, and ambushes, Shureg was now a central figure in the Count’s inner circle.

“Find out what Kellen is up to.”

“As you command.”

The enigmatic demon, Shureg, disappeared without a sound.

Three days later, as promised, Nohr returned.

He appeared slightly disheveled, a contrast to his usual energetic demeanor.

More noticeably—

“What caused you to get injured?”

“Nothing that concerns you. It was just a discussion.”

The armor he had worn was utterly shattered, and his body bore several minor wounds.

The scar across his neck was particularly long.

Though healed with potions, the scar remained a thin line, evidence of how severe the injury had been.

‘A little deeper, and it would’ve been fatal.’

I was shocked.

How many in the estate could inflict such injuries on someone like Nohr?

Even though he was aging and semi-retired from the battlefield, Nohr was still an eighth-tier knight.

Only the head of the family, the personal guard, or perhaps the captain and vice-captain of the Wolf Knights could compare.

There were also a few powerful individuals deployed outside the territory, but—

‘They wouldn’t have sparred to this extent.’

That left only one conclusion: the culprit was someone from outside the estate.

Whoever it was, they were undoubtedly insane.

Causing such a commotion in another’s territory—what were they thinking?

“I went to see someone who could help you. Ugh, I knew they had a foul temper, but experiencing it firsthand was worse. No respect for the elderly!”

“You mean… you fought for my sake?”

The idea of him engaging in combat for me was astonishing.

Then again, why a simple conversation required a fight was beyond me.

“Instructor…!”

Still, I couldn’t help but feel moved.

It had only been a month since I’d met Nohr, and yet he was going this far for me.

“Are you swelling with respect? How dare you make this old body suffer like this! You better repay me when you’re grown!”

“Of course! From the moment I first saw you, I knew—I just knew! This is a true mentor! I’ve been silently thanking you a dozen times a day!”

“Bah! Lies! I’ve never seen you act that way!”

“Come now, if I said it all the time, wouldn’t it annoy you? I’ve been expressing my gratitude internally. What matters is the sincerity, isn’t it?”

Pok, pok.

I massaged Nohr’s shoulders as I spoke.

[Your “Kitten Hands” constitution enjoys playful movements.]

What the…?

Startled for a moment, I quickly brushed it off. Nohr’s reaction was positive. His expression softened, clearly enjoying the massage.

“Hmm, not bad. Focus a bit more on the left.”

“Oh dear, so tense. It must be the weight of your legendary reputation as a knight!”

“Hahaha! You’re finally speaking sense.”

Did the “Kitten Hands” trait come with hidden benefits?

Occasionally, traits had effects beyond their descriptions.

Specialized massage abilities weren’t exactly life-changing, but it was better than nothing.

“That’s enough.”

“Hmm, though I wouldn’t mind more.”

After ten minutes of massaging, Nohr reluctantly called it to a halt.

The reason I’d gone this far wasn’t just gratitude for his efforts.

“Instructor, as it’s been a month since my training began, I think it’s time to move to the next stage.”

“The next stage?”

It was all to acquire a mana cultivation technique.

With less than a month left until the official sparring matches, I needed more than just the skills I’d gained over the past few days.

Mana cultivation techniques, in particular, required time to master and integrate.

“Ahem! Didn’t you say it yourself, Instructor? Not being able to wield a weapon is a glaring weakness, and I need a way to overcome it.”

I subtly gestured toward a building visible from the training grounds: the Iron Library.

It housed the family’s collection of mana cultivation techniques.

“If there’s a limit to what physical strength alone can achieve, then a cultivation technique can resolve that! I may not look like it, but I have some talent in such methods…”

“Hmm. You’re not wrong.”

Perhaps the massage helped, as Nohr seemed receptive.

“What you need now isn’t just physical training but techniques that can breach a mage’s defenses and allow you to close the gap. And to support those techniques, you’ll need a mana cultivation method.”

“Ooh! Wait, does this mean no more physical training?”

Lately, my “training” had felt more like beatings in disguise.

“Idiot!”

Thwack!

With frightening speed, Nohr flicked my forehead.

For a moment, I saw stars.

‘Am I concussed?’

It hurt immensely, but there wasn’t even a bump. His control over his strength was impeccable.

“Fool! The foundation of every technique is the body! Imagine what you could achieve if you properly developed your already exceptional physique. And yet, you’d probably ruin a gemstone by smashing it with a hammer!”

Though his tone was scolding, his words carried a sweet implication.

“Still, with little time left before the sparring matches, I’ll teach you a mana cultivation method.”

With that, Nohr officially declared his approval to grant me access to a mana cultivation technique.