I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills

Chapter 8. Inspection (2)

As I’ve said before, Warlord Conquest is a strategy game.

No matter what tricks you pull, clearing the game with just a single chosen character is impossible.

It doesn’t matter if the protagonist is a mage capable of casting level 12 spells or a martial artist who can crush thousands of troops barehanded.

“‘In front of a million-strong orc horde, both are just a single bite.’”

Ultimately, the most important thing in this game is “other heroes.”

How many heroes you can recruit as allies.

How few heroes you end up antagonizing.

That’s why, early in the game, meeting a high-level hero like Archduke Gabir makes it critical to win their favor by any means necessary.

Of course, before that…

“I present myself before the Archduke!!”

You’ve got to bow your head low.

That’s just the custom of the medieval Empire.

“Raise your head. You must be the mercenary Ash.”

The Archduke spoke.

Ornate armor. A brown beard.

Thick eyebrows. Blue eyes beneath them.

Archduke Gabir was the quintessential noble in appearance.

His polite and dignified words and actions carried an unfiltered air of looking down on others.

Part of it was because he’d lived as a highborn noble since birth…

But the particularly strong aura he exuded compared to other nobles wasn’t just my imagination.

“It’s because of that ‘trait’ Archduke Gabir possesses.”

“I didn’t mean just to raise your head—I meant you can stand. Should I make an injured man kneel?”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean to stand at attention either. Sit comfortably on the bed. As you know, I am Count Gabir.”

Anyway, the problem staring me in the face right now was singular.

Why the hell was this man, known as the Emperor’s proxy, here?

I knew he’d come to Burken Fortress as part of the reinforcements.

In the game, around this time, Archduke Gabir typically mobilized his army to patrol the southern border.

If he hadn’t arrived right on time, Burken Fortress would probably be hosting a vampire feast by now.

“‘That part was lucky, I suppose…’”

But it was suspicious.

Excessively so.

“Hahaha! ‘I am a commander before a mage, and a comrade to my soldiers before a commander’—now that’s a line straight out of the Imperial Officer Academy’s textbook!”

“Indeed, sir. But it was so sincere that the soldiers were inspired to hold the most heavily breached section of the wall with their lives.”

The white-haired aide and the Archduke went back and forth, showering me with praise.

“Hm! Exactly! True heroes act by the book! And heroes deserve fitting rewards.”

As if he’d almost forgotten, he placed a heavy coin purse on the table.

“I’m grateful for your generosity, Archduke.”

“No need. Without you, this fortress wouldn’t be standing! Hahaha!”

Even his hearty laughter.

None of it matched the Archduke Gabir I knew.

This behavior was something he only showed in specific situations, to specific people.

Namely, to someone he’d just met.

And, more specifically…

“…When he’s decided they need to die.”

Damn it.

Let’s think this through.

Why would Archduke Gabir want to kill me?

Like Olif, he’s a staunch imperialist.

The Emperor’s iron fist, merciless to those he considers enemies of the Empire.

“…It’s because of [Infernal Meteor].”

Well, the answer was obvious.

The Empire currently had about three enemies:

The Vampire Archduchy, the orc tribes of the wastelands, and the pirate coalition of the western sea isles.

Among them, there was only one faction I could be suspected of belonging to.

“He suspects I’m a mage or spy of the Vampire School. He either knows I used [Infernal Meteor]… or at least strongly suspects it.”

Among the knights lined up behind the Archduke was Olif.

A quick glance told me he hadn’t spilled the beans.

Given his personality, if he’d intended to report to the Archduke, he would’ve already turned me over to the inquisitors long ago.

Moreover…

“If he had evidence, the Archduke wouldn’t have bothered coming here himself.”

“I heard you turned the tide of battle. Your ‘spell’ greatly boosted the defenders’ morale.”

That statement drove the nail in.

The Archduke was here to find evidence.

Evidence that I was a mage of the Vampire School who used [Infernal Meteor].

And in this regard, his abilities were not to be underestimated.

Archduke Gabir was one of the Empire’s sharpest strategists.

Entrusted with the title of Archduke by the Emperor, he had the authority to execute even nobles.

Above all, the trait he possessed was one of the overpowered ones on my list.

“Which school was your mentor from? I’d like to personally express my gratitude.”

But that also meant…

I had every detail of his trait—its name, abilities, and limitations—etched in my mind.

Naturally, I also knew how to counter it.

Before answering, I paused briefly.

“My mentor…”

As if caught off guard by an unexpected question.

I dragged out my words.

“…Ha.”

Then, lowering my head,

I muttered as if sighing.

While inwardly repeating “sad thoughts.”

“…My mentor passed away.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

“Ugh, because of this unworthy disciple… It didn’t have to be that way…! Sob.”

It’s not a lie, is it?

He died watching me about to get my head chopped off.

***

“…That’s unfortunate.”

The Archduke’s eyes glowed blue.

If this were the game, a notification would’ve popped up.

[Gabir Maraz activates Eight Thousand Angels’ Insight.]

But this was reality.

From what I’d seen so far, only notifications about me or the troops I commanded appeared.

“‘If the battlefield were cluttered with notification windows, that’d be a problem in itself.’”

Anyway, back to the point.

That piercing blue gaze was the most famous of the Archduke’s traits.

The trait’s name was Eight Thousand Angels’ Insight.

His nickname, “Frost-Eyed Judge,” came from that blue glow in his eyes.

It’s commonly believed that this ability lets him read minds…

“…That’s half true, half false.”

Eight Thousand Angels’ Insight had three abilities.

The one thought to read minds was, strictly speaking, closer to a lie detector.

[Eight Thousand Angels’ Insight]

[Nullifies mental spells of level 5 or below.]

[Greatly enhances interrogation effects based on status disparity.]

[Up to three times per month per target, determines whether a response is true or false. Direct questions are excluded from the selection.]

“I hope the funeral was held properly. Which school were they from?”

That was the second question.

Another one about my mentor.

In truth, the question the Archduke most wanted to ask was probably, “Are you the mage who dropped [Infernal Meteor]?”

But the trait’s restrictions prevented such direct questions.

“I’m sorry. As an unworthy disciple… I don’t know which school my mentor belonged to.”

According to the lore, the “Eight Thousand Angels” that powered this ability didn’t allow it.

That’s why the Archduke shifted the topic slightly to ask about the “mentor” who taught me.

It was a clever question.

After all, there weren’t many Vampire School mages capable of teaching a level 7 high-tier spell.

Especially not one with the patience to train a human disciple while resisting vampiric urges.

“Then you must at least know their name. Or, at the very least, whether they were human or not. Were they an ordinary human?”

But there was one thing the Archduke didn’t know.

“They were human… but I never learned their name either. I’m truly sorry.”

The only person I ever considered a “mentor” was the mercenary mage who taught me the [Shield] spell.

Well, technically, he didn’t teach me from the ground up.

But let’s gloss over that.

“…Is that so.”

Okay. I dodged the trait for now.

As the three-question limit was reached, the blue glow in the Archduke’s eyes slowly faded.

He must’ve confirmed I wasn’t a vampire’s disciple.

Now it came down to how well I could act.

He didn’t seem to have fully dropped his suspicions yet…

“‘But even that’s an opportunity in Warlord Conquest.’”

War doesn’t only happen on the battlefield.

Recruiting talent, negotiating terms, sowing discord, and deception—

Fighting with pen and tongue in diplomacy and politics is also a core part of Warlord Conquest.

It’s no coincidence that Lord’s Unyielding Mind, which gives a massive bonus to eloquence, is considered an overpowered trait.

“Those vampire bastards…”

“Hm?”

“They’re the ones who killed my mentor.”

In that context, attention is an opportunity.

There’s a saying, isn’t there?

If you want to win someone’s favor, it’s better to be hated than ignored.

That applies beyond just romantic matters.

“‘…What should I do?’”

Just as I convinced the suspicious baron.

“‘That baron’s better than those knights with rotting brains wiping their asses. Let me know if you’re forming a mercenary band later.’”

Just as I earned the trust of distrustful soldiers.

“Even now, I can see my mentor’s face. The face of my mentor, suffering under the vampires’ vile spells…”

Like a cold-hearted mage, I swallowed tearless sobs.

“The image of them breathing their last, unable to even bring a regeneration potion to their lips… It still won’t leave my mind.”

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, suppressing my rage.

“They were the one who first taught me spells…”

It didn’t matter that I didn’t know their name.

There were plenty of wandering mages on this continent.

Even one of the current Mage Tower lords was an orphan raised by a wandering mage.

More importantly, Archduke Gabir himself didn’t care much about origins.

What mattered to him was one thing:

Was the person an enemy of the Empire and the Emperor, or not?

“Do you want revenge?”

“…Yes.”

And as the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The enemy of the vampires was, in effect, an ally of the Empire.

“I’ll kill every last one of those cursed bastards. So they can never set foot on this continent again.”

“How dare you use such crude language—!”

“Enough.”

The Archduke stopped a knight who stepped forward.

If I could read his thoughts behind that cold expression now, he was probably starting to see me as a rough gem with potential to serve the Emperor.

Watching his gaze shift from suspicion to interest, I drove the point home, stroking his neatly trimmed beard.

“As a member of the Empire and my mentor’s disciple, I will make those vampires pay.”

[I activate Lord’s Unyielding Mind.]

Not a single lie.

In an Empire start, you take out the vampires first anyway.

***

“That mage from earlier.”

On the road leaving Burken Village, Gabir summoned his mage.

“What was his spell level like?”

“He was an ordinary mage. Didn’t seem particularly skilled.”

“Not a high-tier mage, then?”

“No, sir. Definitely not capable of casting [Infernal Meteor]. Maybe [Lightning Arrow] at best.”

Gabir nodded at the mage’s words.

Not in agreement.

“Any chance he deceived you?”

“My apologies. It’s possible if he’s a high-tier mage with specialized skills, but I couldn’t tell…”

Known for his ruthless disposition, Archduke Gabir sent the mage away, head bowed in fear of saying the wrong thing. Gabir thought again.

“That mercenary mage. He’s no ordinary man.”

Ash, was it?

A mere mercenary, not a noble, answered his questions without a hint of hesitation.

He even boldly declared his intent to avenge his mentor, revealing his emotions.

Though their conversation was brief, the aura he exuded…

It was as if he were speaking to an equal noble, or even a lord.

As he stroked his morning-trimmed beard, his aide approached.

“I checked again, but he’s not on the mercenary list.”

“You mean the list that Burken fellow made.”

“Yes, as you know, he deliberately omitted over half the mercenaries he hired.”

Gabir felt a pang of regret.

Baron Burken, so greedy he even skimmed the payments meant for mercenaries.

If not for him, they could’ve learned more.

His origins, his school, or at least the rank of his spells.

“No helping it. At least we know he’s not a spy for the Vampire Archduchy.”

Three questions born of suspicion.

All his answers were true.

It was odd that he didn’t know his mentor’s school or name…

But it wasn’t unheard of for a nameless wandering mage to take on a disciple.

“A mercenary skilled in swordsmanship and magic, with leadership to boot.”

The world was vast, and talent was abundant.

His mission from the Emperor wasn’t just to inspect and punish corrupt nobles.

It was to travel the Empire’s lands, find undiscovered talents, and gather them to build the Emperor’s hidden force, the Secret Knights.

That’s why he made a recruitment offer to the mercenary Ash.

The response was unexpected.

“‘My apologies.’”

“‘Why not?’”

“‘I don’t plan to serve in the military twice…’”

“‘…?’”

He was flatly rejected.

“‘It’s not that I won’t fight for the Empire. I plan to form a mercenary team, and eventually a mercenary band, once I’ve earned enough.’”

The reasoning was fairly rational.

He seemed to already have ambitions.

“‘An interesting fellow. Worth keeping an eye on.’”

Gabir didn’t dislike people like that.

Heroes who left great marks in history often harbored grand ambitions from youth.

As long as they weren’t clear enemies, they could be allies or at least useful.

Bringing such people into the Empire’s fold was part of his mission.

“You, chief aide. Your name’s Olif, right?”

“Yes, Archduke.”

“You’re promoted. By the authority granted by His Majesty, I confer upon you the lifelong title of baronet.”

“…Thank you.”

“You can stay at this fortress or travel with me. Since it’s not a hereditary title, you’re free to act as you please. I’ll give you three days to decide. And Yuter.”

Calling his white-haired aide closer, he thought for a moment before speaking.

“Write a letter to the mercenary Ash. Tell him we’ll hire his mercenary band once it’s formed. Make it an official commission. Include a special clause that, just this once, we’ll pay in advance.”

***

Mercenary band.

The most standard way to conquer Warlord Conquest.

Unless you’re born a noble or have special connections, it’s practically the only way.

There’s another option—joining an existing faction’s army as a commander—but the downsides outweigh the benefits.

And honestly, I don’t want to go through the military twice.

Anyway, forming a mercenary band was always part of the plan.

But…

“…I didn’t expect this.”

The biggest problem with a mercenary band is money.

Mercenaries are expensive, especially in times of war like now.

So I thought I’d have to work for another band for about six months.

But what’s this?

“How much is all this?”

When I woke up this morning, a letter was waiting.

Along with a commission worth twenty gold coins.