The Experimental Log of the Crazy Lich

 “When are you going to retrieve the God Equipment of Wind?”

The Wind Elemental God was in the form of a Royal Elf, but he lacked their typical elegance. The miniscule windstorms floating around him clearly expressed his anxiety. He became more impatient as time passed.

“When are you going to the Dragon World? All the elders are waiting for you. You should have finished reading the necessary information by now.”

This time, the forever smiling Copper Dragon Evelyn didn’t come alone to remind me—everyone was surprised to see the cold-faced Blue Dragon Evelyn as well.

“…Your Highness, when will you fix the Earth Elemental Throne?”

The Great Stone Sculptor Ainslo, too, had become anxious. When she finally learned from me that she was the top candidate for the next Earth Elemental God, her emotions had been in a constantly excited state.

“I’m waiting for everyone to arrive. How are we supposed to fight the boss monster without everyone here?”

That’s right—I was no fool who’d rush to fight a suicidal battle like the Snake Archduchess and her two Undead Lord teammates. Since I’d obtained information on the ridiculousness of my opponents, how could I start a long journey to battle in other planes without sufficient combat strength?

“Perhaps this is the true beginning of the trial of battles on the level of the Holy War.”

This time, I had summoned over all my combat strength. Just about everyone I could summon were coming. After some reorganizing, I separated them into three major categories.

The first group constituted of the royal knights from the former Mist Kingdom. These undying undead warriors numbered approximately 25,000 and were the knights I trusted most as well as the most powerful existences. Quite a number of them had reached the combat strength of heroic spirits. They were forever one of my most powerful aces.

However, they were undead, and it was inconvenient for them to move about, so only two thousand of them were on the surface. They joined the establishment of the Mist Alliance. Some were commanders and squad leaders in East Mist’s major squadrons, while some took part in the undead Xiluo Empire. Their goal was to reconstruct Yongye’s Army. Of course, unlike the chaotic Undead Lords’ loose alliance, this time it would my actual, personal army.

Their combat flag was the traditional combat flag of the Mist, a symbol of the past as well as the honor of an inheritance. If I decided to enter a major battle, then this old flag would fly once again. The undying, who didn’t wish for eternal rest, would use blood and fire to display their undying knighthood and a warrior’s honor to our enemies.

Although this undead force was the most powerful ace I possessed, it was also an ace I didn’t dare casually use. Summoning them all would put countless countries highly on guard against me.

That was why most of them would have to remain in the Underground and continue their combat training there. Recently, however, a new task had been given to them: to train and teach the newcomers. They taught not only combat tactics and techniques but also the honor and inheritance of the Mist.

This time, with the assistance of the Mizar and the newly completed Alkaid airships transporting them, I summoned a total of six thousand undead knights to my side. It was thanks to Bardi’s assurance and reputation that the two magic bone airships surrounded by ominous appearing black mist could fly past other countries without incident.

If the “Red Hunting Hounds” were my forces I trusted most but were inconvenient to use, the next group was the one easiest to use but most untrustworthy.

“Eh, why is there an extra chicken leg and two additional eggs in today’s lunch?”

“Don’t you know? It’s to celebrate the official establishment of the Northlands Mist Family. There’s extra food for lunch today, and even a bottle of beer for everyone at dinner.

“…His Highness Roland has finally made up his mind? Wait a moment, isn’t this a wondrous occurrence? A celebration party and revival ceremony? Our boss is a living legend! As long as he mentions it, won’t all the mega empires send some envoys? Or is the formal ceremony being held later?”

Typically speaking, a family’s establishment or revival would be a major incident. Inviting guests would only be the beginning—plenty of families would celebrate for an entire year and spend three years’ worth of their income.

This wasn’t just for the sake of face; it was also a method to display the family’s connections and foundation.

“No, adding extra food to our lunch is the only celebration. His Highness Roland said that he’s recently been busy with work and that work takes priority, so we should dispense with all unnecessary celebrations. He said that would be enough?”

“…Why do I feel like he simply thinks it’s too troublesome?”

“…I totally agree. As expected of our boss, he’s so different from others. Still, he didn’t skip on certain things. Do you know the fifth son of the Aston Family?”

“That cripple? Didn’t he lose his leg in the war against the beastmen and retreat to the backlines? His second brother also died in that meat grinder of a war. Truly unfortunate.”

“…His Highness Roland knighted him. He won’t have to worry about starving to death for the rest of his life.”

“How lucky! His Highness Roland is beginning to give out knighthoods? Wonderful, is there hope for us as well? Forget it, we’re just Bronze-ranked warriors, so it’s impossible for any of us. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Based on the customs of this world, the lowest knighthood rank of peerage that could be assigned would require strength equivalent to Silver. However, most ordinary people would be unable to achieve this power level even if they worked hard for their whole lives.

“His Highness Roland is so different from others. He doesn’t care about power level but cares more about achievements instead. The first batch of knighthoods he handed out included thirty people, with a total of sixteen from our mercenary group! All of them received first-level combat accolades, including the pilots of the self-destructing Roland Titans. All of us only received third-level combat accolades, so there’s no chance of a knighthood for us.”

“But there’s still a chance in the future! Ahh—Fifth Brother Aston is so fortunate. Even though he can no longer enter battle in the future, he can simply let his knighthood take care of him for the rest of his life.”

“Hmph, don’t underestimate Aston the cripple. How could he possibly receive the Nightblood first-level combat accolade if he was as cowardly as you? He’s now hanging out with the magical engineering mechanical research department’s gnomes and reminding them every day to produce an artificial leg with cannons installed for him. He has no intention to be only a knight for the rest of his life. He wants his son to be even higher than a knight.”

The lowest level of knighted nobility wasn’t inheritable—this could only happen upon reaching the rank of Baron. However, the noble title would be rescinded if there were no combat achievements, so typically only barons were what everyone recognized as true nobility.

A small knighthood would at most be a village with thirty to fifty households within it if one was lucky enough to receive some land. This was perhaps not worth anything to the powerful, but it was a life’s dream for the mercenaries who risked their lives in combat.

Yes—mercenaries. I was referring to the mercenaries from the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance mega mercenary group.

Although I wanted to discuss mutual dreams and the beauty of saving the world with them along with the upcoming long night of Armageddon, these mercenaries believed that ideals were a luxury of nobles who didn’t have to worry about their next meal. A reliable source of income and the chance to become a noble were all they dreamed about.

As for the Armageddon? If they couldn’t fill their bellies or got a crippling injury and didn’t have enough money saved up to take care of themselves, every day would be an Armageddon.

“Mercenaries are untrustworthy.”

This was the typical view every country had of mercenaries who worked for whoever paid them. In most situations, the countries were absolutely correct.

As mercenaries fought for the sake of money, they would naturally consider their own future. They would never want to fight to the death, risk injury if possible, or take any job with insufficient payment. For warriors on the battlefield, lacking motivation to stand until the end would be a fatal flaw. An ace royal knight squadron would be capable of adamantly fighting even upon receiving seventy percent losses, while the typical mercenary squad would collapse and retreat upon taking ten percent losses. Relying too much on mercenaries would actually be military weakness.

“No matter how strong mercenaries are, they still aren’t reliable and trustworthy.”

Since they fought for the sake of money, there were plenty of examples of entire mercenary groups betraying an employer to go work for their employer’s enemy as long as the payment was high enough. It was even more common for individual mercenaries to betray their employers and be hired by the enemy. That was why, for any major battle, even if wartime mercenary groups were allowed to participate, they would only be cannon fodder acting on the sidelines.

That was how mercenaries were. They were the vultures of the battlefield who fought for the sake of their personal benefits. They weren’t constrained by a sense of knightly honor; practical benefits were first and foremost. However, as long as one spread enough bait in front of them, they could also become the most vicious attack dogs.

Typical mercenary groups wouldn’t accept a battle mission with a high risk of dying. However, some mercenary groups would still choose to enter major battles despite knowing that their role would be the most dangerous job of cannon fodder. This was because these dangerous battles would have exceedingly high payments, in addition to the possibility of some major noble taking favor to the mercenaries and permanently taking in the entire group.

If, instead, a mercenary group became the private soldiers of some major noble, then the leaders of this mercenary group had the possibility of becoming nobles. And the ordinary mercenaries would become part of a regular army, so they would have a guaranteed army salary in addition to relief payments in case of crippling injuries or family payments in case they died on the battlefield.

However, the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance mercenary group was different from ordinary mercenary groups.

There was a saying that said, “Intentionally cultivated trees might not survive while unintentionally planted seeds might sprout to become tall trees.” This jokingly created mercenary group had developed to become stronger and stronger in recent times.

The formal group leader of this mercenary group was me. They could technically be called my personal soldiers, and their combat morale and loyalty far surpassed average private armies.

As the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance expanded their activities with the great support of the Northlands countries, this mercenary group based in the Northlands now had guilds in more than thirty countries. In fact, they now had seventeen major sub-squadrons stationed in these countries, and their registered members numbered more than three hundred thousand.

Greater than seventy percent of the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance’s mercenaries came from East Mist and Sleuweir, so more than eighty percent were People of the Mist. They were willing to join this mercenary group because this mercenary group had an excellent reputation and salary but even more because they believed in me, the leader of this mercenary group. They believed I would give them a bright future.

In past battles, they’d indeed performed well. No matter if it was the bloody Northlands battle against the beastmen or the continuous battles against the undead in the south, they had displayed abundant abilities and loyalty.

However, as mercenaries, they naturally had their dreams. They dreamed of a bright future, munificent rewards and a chance to gloriously return home.

Of course, this mega large mercenary group had levels within it. Basic members only wished to prove their abilities and obtain reputation. Yet after developing to a certain point, elite squadrons were forever the core.

For warriors who displayed both sufficient skill and loyalty, the mercenary group would sign twenty, thirty or even fifty-year contracts with them. Any warriors who broke the contract would no longer be able to find a job in the mercenary profession for the rest of their lives. These contracts assured excellent payment and job security, and the warriors would work loyally in turn to pay off the responsibility and requirements of the job.

Actually, these long-term “lifetime contracted” mercenary soldiers didn’t even treat themselves as mercenaries.

“We are all warriors belonging to His Highness Roland. It’s just that it’s not convenient to establish a formal combat squadron in his name right now.”

“We’re all His Highness’s warriors, you know. We need to pay attention to certain things so we don’t dishonor that flag.”

The fact that I was giving out knighthoods and flying the banner of the Mist gave more evidence to their claims. And so even more mercenaries started applying for the long-term contracts.

Once news started spreading that I’d decided to reestablish the Northlands Mist Family, in just three short days, almost twenty thousand people applied to join the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance. Once the news that I gave knighthoods out to sixteen members of this mercenary group started spreading, another fifty thousand people applied the very next day.

From a certain standpoint, I didn’t have personal territory, I wasn’t a king, nor did I swear loyalty to any domain lord. I couldn’t even count as a domain lord myself. Logically speaking, I didn’t have the right to give out knighthoods, but no matter if it were outsiders or my subordinates, they ignored this most basic right of the nobility.

Of course, I wasn’t giving out knighthoods only in name. The knighthoods I gave out would be recognized by all the Northlands countries. Once these newly-minted knights achieved sufficient accolades to become domain lords themselves, I would think of a way to give them their own territories as barons and higher deserved. But they would typically reach up to the rank of Earl only with outstanding combat achievements, and these were extremely limited in number.

This time, the Borealis brought me five thousand and six hundred long-term contracted mercenaries. This didn’t seem like much, but they had all been through various difficult trials in order to obtain their long-term contracts, the best proof of their abilities and loyalties. Their average abilities reached the astonishing level of the peak of Bronze. They could indeed be considered my elite personal soldiers.

With the situation developing in this manner, perhaps this was, in a way, evidence of the importance of reputation and tradition. In East Mist’s capital of Diffindor and Sleuweir’s capital of Antuen, all sorts of theories about how “Roland saw the big picture” or “Roland planned for all this” filled the streets and alleyways. Even street side vendors were saying “His Highness Roland used the name of a mercenary group to summon all the warriors who wished to fight for the flag of the Mist”; “The East Mist and Sleuweir Kingdom royalty despise this type of personnel stealing action but can’t do anything about it”; “These mercenaries include Four Elemental Swordcasters, Magic Gunners, and even Aurora Knights. It’s not like these ace troop types grow on trees. It’s so obvious, yet they still dare to call themselves mercenaries?”

To be honest, I really did create this Absolute Gentlemen Alliance as nothing more than a joke. In fact, for an incredibly long period of time, I didn’t even manage the mercenary group’s development. For the mercenary group to be able to reach this stage meant those unreliable fellows were indeed sufficiently powerful. Perhaps it also meant the People of the Mist still trusted in the tattered banner of the Mist.

“He is Our Highness. He shall lead us to a better life.”

“Yep, it’s all because of His Highness that we just had the most comfortable winter in fifty years. Not a single person froze to death on the streets this year, and those who immigrated to other places also returned to their homeland.”

It would be a joke to claim that only my personal reputation and the so-called tradition of the Mist Family would be able to attract so many descendants of the Mist to fight under my banner. However, the Northlands Mist Family had accumulated more than two thousand years of honor and trustworthiness. This had become my greatest wealth as well as a heavy burden that pressured me to the point where I almost couldn’t breathe.

“…Don’t even mention a mercenary group—even if you use your personal name and the flag of the Mist to open up a circus, it will be filled to the brim with People of the Mist. If you don’t believe me, just ask those undead knights of yours. They’ve long since stopped asking ‘why.’ They’re at the stage of foolish loyalty where they only ask ‘what should we do?'”

I didn’t know how to respond to Harloys’ teasing because I knew she told the truth.

When I was a fallen prince who couldn’t even defend his own home, the only way I could really think of to repay their trust was to somehow try my best to lead everyone to survive the upcoming Armageddon.

“Perhaps the upcoming times will be difficult, but at least… at least we’ll all be together.”

Perhaps outsiders still viewed the Absolute Gentlemen Alliance as only mercenaries. But these youngsters, who had given their lives over to me, were already a part of me.

The Absolute Gentlemen Alliance’s combat flag was a black masquerade ball mask. Everyone had countless theories about what meaning there was behind it. But when I’d made this the flag, it was solely because I wanted to remind the bastards who became the main core of the mercenary group to “remember to wear masks when doing gentlemanly deeds because I don’t want to have to pick you up from the police station.”

As for people’s theories about how the mask represented “seeking light in the darkness,””those with resolve who have lost everything,””dark heroes of the night who don’t need to show their identities” and so on, this was a classic case of over-analyzation.

Apart from the Red Hunting Hounds and the Gentlemen Alliance, the third major group under me was the “Magic Research Facility,” the abbreviated name for the magical mecha engineering research facility and the Cinders merchant association.

They were now the light of the future as they possessed cutting-edge technology and also acted as the logistical support for the increasingly integrated Mist faction. They didn’t include only researchers, as the Four Elemental Swordcasters, Magic Gunners, master engineers and master alchemists constituted their concrete combat strength.

The Borealis, Alkaid and Mizar—these three mega airships along with six mid-sized airships and several hundred small cannon airships possessed a total fighting force of 10,300 people. There were 67 master engineers at least at Gold, 427 engineering and alchemy experts, and countless war machines. This would be more than enough to begin a small-scale war sufficient to overwhelm a small country.

Of course, by using so much of my combat strength, I hoped to receive even more… so much more to the point I felt I was being too greedy.

“If those dragons knew your plot, they’d definitely be trying to kill you right now. Since you’re scheming to get their most precious treasure, does this count as them killing the thief in the act?”

“…I think so too. But by the time they know it’ll be too late—we would already have achieved our goal. Besides, giving them such a high-level treasure is a waste of resources. I’d make better use of it instead. Since…”

“…Winter is coming?”

I shook my head. Using that quote made it seem like spring would arrive afterwards. As I flipped through the record of the game’s history, I couldn’t see any evidence of a spring after what would come next. I didn’t have much time left.

“…If I really had to describe it, I could only say that the Armageddon is coming. However, it’s already going to be much better than what happened in the game’s history. At least, we have some hope now, as long as my plan works.”

“Then how likely do you think your plan will succeed?”

“I want to say one hundred percent, but unfortunately it’s probably less than ten percent.”

“But at least it’s not zero.”

Still, I felt the newly sprouting trees and plants outside the window were a rare lucky sign.

“Yes. At least there’s still some hope. And our goal this time is to create our own hope so the future can be slightly better.”

“Even if you destroy others’ hope?”

“Of course.”