The Indomitable Martial King - Chapter 82

[ Chapter 82 ]

Makelin stroked his beard in distress, when suddenly, his lush beard fell off his chin, revealing the face of a rather stately old man. Indeed, Makelin’s beard, which suited the grandeur of a dwarven Grand Priest, was fake.

“Do you know the story behind this beard?” he asked.

Repenhardt gave a wry smile as he responded, “I’ve heard it’s a blessing from Al Port.”

Among dwarf men, a lush beard was a symbol of masculinity. Baldness might be acceptable, but a clean-shaven chin was despised and considered repulsive by all dwarf women. Sadly, Makelin had been afflicted with a peculiar condition since his youth, which prevented him from growing a beard.

If he had been a human, he might have resorted to a fake beard. However, among dwarves, who could see through such deceits, wigs or false hair held no value and only made one look more pitiful.

Nonetheless, Makelin was an extraordinary talent among dwarves. With his incredible divine power and leadership, he had the honor of being chosen as the Grand Priest of Al Port after 200 years. And it was then that Al Port, the dwarven god, bestowed upon his earthly representative this magnificent fake beard.

A divine beard that even the Eyes of Truth could not penetrate! To humans, it might seem like an unnecessary act by Al Port, but among dwarves, the story was entirely different. This beard was clear proof of Makelin’s genuine favor with Al Port! With it, Makelin earned the respect and awe of all dwarves.

“Even we dwarves cannot discern the true nature of this beard; surely, a human like you would not have known, which assures me that your words are true,” Makelin affirmed, reattaching the beard. If Repenhardt were a madman, believing his own delusions to be real, he wouldn’t have known this information. Indeed, the young human before him had truly traveled through time.

“The reason I originally sought you out was to offer some advice about your destiny as a savior and your path forward. But you already know everything there is to know about being a savior.”

Suddenly, Makelin rose from his seat.

“Then there is only one thing left for me to do.”

Makelin knelt down formally. With a grave and solemn voice, he declared to Repenhardt, “On behalf of all dwarves who serve Al Port, I, Makelin Port Hammerline, pledge my allegiance to you, Repenhardt Wald Antares.”

Repenhardt silently observed the old dwarf, Makelin, kneeling before him. He was not surprised by this seemingly abrupt declaration, having anticipated it, as it had happened in his past life. Thus, he felt no gratification from receiving the dwarves’ loyalty.

Instead, a heavy sense of responsibility weighed on his heart.

He had already betrayed their loyalty once. Despite their loyalty and devotion, his incompetence had led them to death and suffering.

Could he truly reciprocate their loyalty in this life?

‘No, I must.’

Shaking off his thoughts, Repenhardt reached out his hand.

“Rise.”

His tone had changed, yet it did not come off as arrogant; instead, it felt natural and even warm.

“Your words are half wrong, Makelin.”

As the old dwarf stood up, Repenhardt urgently continued his speech.

“I need your advice now more than ever.”

* * *

Repenhardt, seated once again across from Makelin, spoke in a melancholy voice.

“I have already failed once. I tried to handle everything with my power, my magic, and ultimately became humanity’s enemy, meeting my death.”

He couldn’t repeat the mistakes of his past life. However, he was still unsure how he could achieve his dreams by other means than power. This was the issue that currently troubled Repenhardt. Recovering his magic had been a priority he had put off until now, but it was not a problem he could indefinitely delay.

“Of course, I have a few ideas, but none are certain…”

Makelin asked.

“What plans do you have?”

“It’s hardly a plan…”

Repenhardt spoke in a calm voice about his time in the Duchy of Chatan. He had taken in elf and orc slaves and given them the same education humans received, hoping that this would become a trend and spread.

Hearing this, Makelin nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmm, not bad. Enlightening human consciousness to bring about gradual change is certainly hopeful for the other races. Of course, from my perspective, humans are the other race, but I’ll use this term for ease of understanding for you, Repenhardt.”

He added with a smile.

“However, that could easily take 100 years. Elves and we dwarves may have the lifespan to endure such a time, but might you not age before seeing the changes?”

“That is the problem…”

Repenhardt sighed and leaned back in his chair. Peaceful change sounded nice and ideal, but it was also difficult to achieve. No matter how great a sage’s philosophy, it could take centuries to be rightly recognized. Breaking a fixed paradigm is never easy.

Suddenly, Repenhardt snapped his fingers.

“Lairan.”

A small flame sparked at the tip of his finger. It was the most basic ignition spell among flame spells, useless in combat and typically used as a substitute for flint, a spell learned at the beginning of magical training to grasp the basics. However, the fact that he had activated it with only a command word, without a magic spell, was evidence of Repenhardt’s considerable magical prowess.

Waving the flame slightly, Repenhardt said,

“I am now regaining my magic. And unlike in my past life, I’ve also gained another kind of power.”

Above the flame-covered finger, a golden aura surged, enveloping the flame.

Repenhardt declared, “Honestly, if I were to regain my magic, it wouldn’t be difficult to rebuild the Antares Empire and become a Demon King who rules the continent with fear.”

It was something he had already done once before. He was confident that he could enlist the aid of other races again. Unlike his previous life, he now possessed an untiring body. Additionally, he had never actually intended to establish a nation in his past life; it was more of a happenstance that a country of different races had formed. If he were to properly plan and establish an empire from the start, he felt that failure was unlikely.

However, Repenhardt shook his head.

“But if I do that, I would merely recreate the Dark Empire again.”

Rebuilding the Dark Empire would only make it a target of humanity’s fear once more.

Of course, unlike his passive past life, if he actively attacked the human kingdoms and expanded his power by dominating them, conquering the entire continent within a decade wouldn’t be a difficult task. He had that much power in his past life. If he had divided and conquered from the start, he wouldn’t have met such an end.

But that would be equivalent to setting the entire continent ablaze with the horrors of war.

“I do not wish to drench the continent in blood to that extent.”

Repenhardt sighed. Makelin fell into deep thought. Watching him, Repenhardt smiled gently.

“Do you see my dilemma now, Makelin? If I dominate the world with power, I will ultimately fail. Yet, I haven’t found a clear way to transform the world without relying on power. I would like to hear your advice, wise dwarf.”

Makelin stroked his beard silently, seemingly organizing his thoughts, before he finally spoke.

“I see the problem.”

The aged dwarf stared directly at Repenhardt.

“Repenhardt, my lord.”

“Speak, Makelin.”

Makelin replied in his gruff voice.

“You are taking the world too lightly.”

“Eh?”

Surprised by the unexpected remark, Repenhardt’s eyes widened. Makelin clicked his tongue.

“You failed because you suppressed with power, and now you seek another way?”

“What, what is wrong?”

Makelin shook his head as if in disappointment.

“Your failure, Lord Repenhardt, was not because you pressed with power.”

“Then?”

Putting strength into his voice, Makelin declared emphatically.

“It was because you pressed with ‘only’ power.”

Makelin’s voice carried the weight of profound wisdom as he continued, “The affairs of the world are not simple. There are countless people, and just as many beliefs and opinions. What the absolute majority of these beliefs and opinions accept becomes the paradigm of that era. How many have had to speak and exchange convictions to establish such universally accepted common sense?”

“You, Lord Repenhardt, must destroy that fixed common sense. Even if you mobilize everything you possess, it may still not be enough. You must press with force, persuade with words, sometimes leave things to autonomy, and at other times enforce… Even with all these methods, it’s uncertain how many years it might take, or even if you can succeed at all in achieving your dreams and ambitions.”

“Hmm…”

“Just because pressing with force failed once doesn’t mean a simple change of tactic will suffice. The world isn’t so simple,” Makelin advised.

Repenhardt groaned. Every word rang painfully true and hit a sore spot. Yet, there was also a sense of enlightenment dawning on him.

“So, what should I do?”

After organizing his thoughts, Makelin posed another question.

“Do you hate humans, Lord Repenhardt?”

Hate? Repenhardt pondered for a moment. No, it didn’t seem quite like that. Despite his attachment to other races, he had never regretted being human. He wasn’t dissatisfied with himself to the extent of wishing he had been born an orc, elf, dwarf, or troll. Sure, he had occasionally wished to be an elf, especially since Siris was one; they could have lived together much longer.

“I don’t think so.”

Makelin asked again.

“Then, do you like humans?”

This time, Repenhardt needed no hesitation. As a human himself, he saw many ugly aspects of humanity.

“Not particularly fond of them, no.”

Makelin nodded as if he had anticipated this response.

“I thought as much. In your past life stories, there were no human companions.”

Makelin chuckled wryly, the irony not lost on him. “It might sound odd coming from a dwarf, but humans aren’t such bad seeds. Listening to you now, Lord Repenhardt, it seems you treated humans as poorly as you treated elves, orcs, trolls, and even us dwarves with decency.”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you include humans in the army to defend the Antares Empire in your past life?”

“Well… I couldn’t trust them… and besides, it wasn’t their war, was it? I felt sorry for involving them in a conflict that wasn’t theirs…”

“And why didn’t you include humans in the administrative roles that ran the Antares Empire?”

“For the same reason, I couldn’t trust them… Plus, elves and dwarves, having longer lifespans, tended to be less corrupt. Especially dwarves, who can hear the voice of truth, made clear and fair judgments. I thought I had placed everyone where they best fit.”

Makelin snorted with a smirk as Repenhardt stuttered his excuses.

“So… after accepting them as members of the nation, you didn’t grant humans any duties or rights necessary to sustain that nation?”

“Is that how it’s interpreted?”

Repenhardt scratched his head. In his view, he had implemented policies that wouldn’t leave the humans dissatisfied. He had only taxed them minimally and hadn’t subjected them to any oppressive rule. The burdensome wars were fought by orcs, trolls, or the monsters under his control. The complicated tasks of administration and politics were handled by dwarves and elves. He thought he had allowed humans to simply enjoy their lives, doing what they wanted…

“So, you’re saying humans were not even given the opportunity to participate in administration or politics?”

“Well, things ran much smoother without them… Why bother involving them unnecessarily…”

As Repenhardt began to sweat profusely, Makelin let out a hollow laugh, then chided him.

“You’ve done all the things a Demon King would do, haven’t you?”