—
After saving his pawn Caldwell from swift doom, Gustave's thoughts began to wander to the Witcher — the one who had nearly sensed his toddler bluff simply by his heartbeat. Following that train of thought, he was reminded of the RDBM he had hidden in his cabin back when Syanna was still living with him.
Not wanting to expose his creation to her, he had left it behind when he went to grab something to eat that morning — his mind slipping just enough to forget it entirely.
Ironically, that small mistake had saved him from the Witcher's sharp senses. He was certain that if the RDBM had been with him, the Witcher would have heard the faint clink-clank of metal against metal. While the sound was subtle enough to evade human hearing, it was still far too noticeable for a Witcher.
It was also because of this incident that Gustave discovered a crucial downside — or rather, a limitation — of his [Recall] ability, and even of [Knowledge], which he had once believed made him omniscient within a ten-meter radius. The limitation was simple: he could not automatically perceive details he wasn't consciously focusing on.
As for why he had developed such a dangerously prideful belief in his own omniscience — one that could easily become his downfall — it stemmed from his mind being sharpened to a degree ten times stronger than that of a normal person.
Because of this, the amount of information he could consciously process was vast, giving him the illusion of true omniscience in the first place. Thankfully, he realized this flaw early, during an encounter with someone neutral like Coën.
Had he not, he could easily imagine his arrogance being exploited by an enemy — someone delivering a swift, lethal strike before he even had time to react. Just like Vilgefortz in the novels, who believed that with his immense power, there was no way Geralt could ever kill him.
Yet, in a comical twist of fate, a mere sliver of illusion from a small trinket distracted the sorcerer for a single heartbeat — just long enough for Geralt to behead him.
That's why Gustave now understood that if he were truly omniscient, his [Knowledge] and [Recall] abilities would already possess godlike qualities — for example, the ability to perceive the vectorization of atoms in motion, just as a Sequence 0 Paragon could.
At that level, merely observing a single atom would be enough for him to comprehend the butterfly effect of entropy rippling across the entire Continent.
But in truth, what he possessed was nothing of the sort. His abilities only provided a generalized understanding of information — deliberately simplified to match his current cognitive limits, preventing his brain from overloading.
If his [Knowledge] could actually register every detail in existence, he was certain that not even a single grain of sand could fit within his mind — because the sheer amount of data would be immeasurable.
The motion of atoms, the release of electron energy, ionic transference in chemical bonds — and that's not even mentioning the greater concepts: the billions upon billions of silicon molecules within a single grain of sand, or the smaller scales of subatomic particles, quantum fields, and the infinitesimal strings that modern science once theorized.
That's how much information is contained within just a single grain of sand.
Because of that, he now realized that his [Knowledge] and [Recall] were nothing more than an endless decimal fraction compared to those of a Sequence 0 Paragon — an infant compared to the hegemonic [Knowledge] and [Recall] abilities of the God of Steam and Machinery.
Their only real use, for now, was in performing small tricks to make his life a little more convenient.
Although he knew his abilities were nothing compared to the real thing, Gustave also understood that even these "small tricks" already made him one of the smartest beings alive.
As for why the God of Steam and Machinery, despite all His [Knowledge] and information, had been unable to push civilization into the interstellar age in the Lord of Mysteries world, Gustave wasn't entirely sure.
Maybe the progress had been halted by other Great Old Ones and Outer Deities. Maybe, by ascending to godhood, He had forsaken the creativity that mortals possessed. Or perhaps He was simply too indifferent — too lazy — to push civilization beyond its limits, into an era where science could destroy planets from afar.
Whatever the reason, Gustave didn't dwell on it. Sequence 0 was far beyond his current reach — too distant a concept to deeply concern himself with for now.
What worried him more at the moment was how to hide the RDBM from being detected by heightened senses — to make it completely soundless and devoid of any metallic scent, so that people like Coën wouldn't suspect a thing, aside from perhaps noticing his slightly bulkier sleeve.
Not only that, but he also wanted to create an invention capable of detecting areas within his [Knowledge] that he wasn't currently focusing on. That way, he could circumvent the limitation of his ability — being able to concentrate on only one thing at a time.
Just like a Witcher's medallion, which could sense nearby magic, Gustave wanted to create a similar trinket — one designed to detect individuals with heightened perception. That way, he could react in time, concealing his heartbeat or any bodily movement that might expose his abnormalities.
Alternatively, he envisioned a trinket that would function like a machine-learning–powered surveillance device — one capable of identifying suspicious individuals, spies, or assassins who entered his vicinity, automatically alerting him so he could act accordingly.
However, he knew that creating something akin to machine learning would be an immensely difficult task — a massive undertaking without modern technological production, industrial infrastructure, or the vast datasets of the Internet.
Fortunately, in this world, he possessed one advantage that modern science lacked — magic. Magic that could cheat the tedious processes and simplify tasks that would have been impossible without modern assembly lines.
From his brief study of Witcher [Knowledge], Gustave had already found what he was looking for: golems. According to the lore, these constructs could distinguish between intruders and their masters within a mage's laboratory.
From this, Gustave deduced that, if properly developed and researched further, a golem's thought process could theoretically detect spies, assassins, or even disguised informants like Caldwell.
The problem, however, was that he currently had no means of capturing one for reverse engineering. Combined with the fact that he was still just a toddler — with no authority to hire a hunter guild or a Witcher — the thought left him frustrated, wistfully wishing his tiny body would grow faster.
—
It had been four days since they arrived at Red Port — a place teeming with mosquitoes, insects, and the foul stench of swamp water.
Although Gustave was annoyed that the entourage hadn't continued their journey to somewhere more bearable, he could understand why. The information Reynard had uncovered — a possible collusion with a Ban Ard sorcerer — had made the situation far too tense to move recklessly.
Because of that, the entourage had temporarily halted, waiting for word from his mother. And when the news finally came, it arrived not in parchment but in steel — a warship carrying two hundred soldiers.
Gustave couldn't help but gape in disbelief. He hadn't expected his mother to take the situation this seriously.
However, when he noticed that the soldiers made no move to apprehend the implicated nobles and instead quietly blended in with the rest of the entourage, Gustave immediately understood.
His mother was thinking the same way he was — keeping known enemies close to draw out greater threats. In that way, they were far more useful than eliminating them outright.
And since not just any soldiers could be trusted with such a delicate plan, Gustave wasn't surprised when he recognized a few of them beneath their disguises. Using gnomish alchemical makeup, they had concealed their identities so well that he had to rely on his [Knowledge] ability to confirm their true faces.
They were members of the private army belonging to the House of Raven's Lyrian branch — or, more accurately, a special forces unit owned by the House of Raven itself, not by the Twin Realms. More precisely, they were the private troops of his great-grandmother, who currently held leadership of the house.
However, since there was no record of them in The Witcher's lore, he suspected that this elite force — once commanded by his great-grandmother, and later by his mother after her passing — had gradually been worn down by years of war against Nilfgaard.
After their near annihilation during the First Battle of Aldersberg, they were likely absorbed into the general Lyrian army — their identities erased, reduced to nothing more than numbers too insignificant to be recorded in the annals of the Continent's history.
Although he knew they had always existed — hidden in plain sight and only revealing themselves when the realm faced grave danger, such as the numerous assassination attempts on the royal bloodline he later learned after Villem's birth — it still took him some time to recognize them.
They blended seamlessly, acting and living as ordinary soldiers and guards across various fields.
If not for his [Knowledge] ability identifying some of them from time to time — whether guarding outside his room in Lyria's castle or posing as hired hunters during royal hunts in Rivia — he would likely have been unable to recognize them at all without prior knowledge.
—
Now, with the entourage of nobles under the quiet watch of the House of Raven's private army, their voyage was ready to resume once more toward Cintra.
However, not all nobles were foolish enough to miss the implication of two hundred additional soldiers joining their ranks.
The foolish ones saw the soldiers as mercenaries who could be bought with coin, believing they were merely new Twin Realms recruits who had yet to develop loyalty to the crown — understandable, given how young the realm still was.
The shrewder ones, however — particularly those who had dealings with Ban Ard sorcerers — took the opportunity to feign excuses, choosing to remain at Red Port rather than continue the journey.
They knew that before the Twin Realms even existed, Lyria had been the greatest kingdom in the region. Not even Rivia could compare to the Lyria of old, which was led by the House of Raven — a bloodline that traced its roots back to Cintra. It was only through King Reginald's marriage to Queen Meve that the two realms became equals.
That was why the shrewder nobles, even if they couldn't identify which noble house the soldiers truly served, could easily guess that these men had something to do with the House of Raven — and were certainly not ordinary recruits recently enlisted by the Twin Realms to bolster their ranks.
Caldwell himself, who had regained enough strength to move about in his wheelchair, was among those eager to disembark. But since Reynard Odo had already been briefed by the Queen on her intentions, Caldwell found himself unable to push past Odo's men, who blocked the gangplank and left the nobles with no choice but to remain aboard.
Odo, meanwhile, threw out every manner of excuse to keep them there. His words flowed so smoothly, polished and persuasive, that even Gustave found it strange — the man known for his denseness suddenly speaking like a seasoned court diplomat. Each line seemed carefully crafted to convince the shrewder nobles to stay.
"You know," Odo began casually, leaning against the rail, "I've sailed through these waters plenty of times, and the sunsets never get old. Makes you forget all the mud and noise back in Angren for a bit. So really, there's no point in rushing."
He glanced toward the hazy shoreline. "The Red Port doesn't have any real specialty — just trouble waiting to happen, as we all know from its history. Half the inns there water down their ale, and the other half overcharge for it. You step off the gangplank for a stroll and come back missing a purse, or worse, your life."
He gave a small chuckle. "Besides, if you're patient, the cook said he's making a stew tonight that could make even a queen drop her manners. And between us, the man's not one for empty promises. I'd say that's reason enough to stay aboard a little longer."
That was just one of many examples Odo used to ensure the nobles remained with the entourage.
As for why his mother wanted them to stay and continue the journey together — even though their collusion with the sorcerers had already been exposed — Gustave had an inkling of her intent.
He knew that this journey, when the nobles had only a handful of guards and none of their house armies with them, was the perfect opportunity to uncover which Ban Ard sorcerers they had been in contact with — and, by extension, reveal all of the nobles' connections.
Even if those contacts yielded little information, it would at least restrict the nobles' movements — preventing them from rallying their house armies or sending coin to support the insurrection now led by Gascon's father, Count Brossard.
He had learned this news after expanding his [Knowledge] through spirituality, allowing him to read the coded and encrypted messages delivered by the soldiers of House Raven. The reports spoke of a rebellion that had erupted shortly after his departure from Rivia, with the rebel forces now concentrated in Spalla.
As for the sorcerers themselves, Gustave knew well their selfish nature — they cared little for the lives of the nobles they used. He was certain they would continue relying on those same informants, even with their cover blown and watchful eyes tracking their every move.
After all, their goal wasn't to topple Lyria and Rivia, but to gather information about him — the suspicious child from the banquet.
That was why his mother had orchestrated this entire scenario — achieving, as the old saying of Lyria went, one swing of the scythe, two stalks down.
Gaining both advantages with little effort: one, uncovering the web of spies currently operating within Lyria and Rivia; and two, easing the burden of dealing with the rebel army.
Because now, Gascon's father had been deprived of support from the majority of nobles who were, in effect, under a subtle form of arrest.
Thinking about Gascon, Gustave couldn't help but rub his chin.
'Hmm… Even though his parents are fools, Gascon himself is not. And to repay the debt of Meve's life in another timeline, at the very least, letting his parents live is the least I can do.'
Coupled with the fact that he needed a mercenary band to capture a golem for his research — or, more generally, to hunt various creatures for his future experiments — preparing this early was certainly not a bad idea.
But not long after, he couldn't help but sigh. Once again, as a toddler, he lacked the authority to command or reason with his mother — or even his father, who harbored a deep desire for Count Brossard's death due to a personal grudge.
Even if he had tried to reason with them, any question about how he knew so much about the adult world — such as the rebellion — would likely blow his cover as a toddler. By then, the peaceful days of simply being a child were long gone, replaced by the rift such knowledge could create between him and his parents.
Still, he had to try if he wanted a capable and trusted commander for the mercenary company. Even though Gascon was a bandit, he was at least a bandit with moral integrity — not prone to betrayal once his loyalty was earned.
Gascon was essentially a darker version of Robin Hood from Gustave's Earthly medieval tales: while Robin Hood stole only from the rich, Gascon also killed. But this was the best the world could offer; in this reality, it was a matter of choosing the lesser evil, not absolute good or evil.
Moreover, keeping Gascon's bandit status as in the original timeline would only lead to complications and inconveniences down the line. Gustave decided to alter the trajectory of Gascon's life.
By doing his best to save Gascon's parents, he hoped to transform him from a bandit into simply a mercenary — all because the Brossard family was still alive.
So, he wrote a letter to his great-grandmother, hoping to be pampered and doted on. Using a yellow pigment stick and scribbly lines of writing, Gustave expressed his desire for his own private army.
Although he couldn't directly state that he wanted the defeated rebellion to later become his own army — so as not to arouse suspicion — he hoped that, at the very least, he could influence his great-grandmother's train of thought to favor the Brossard family once they were defeated.
As for why he didn't send the letter to his mother, it was simply because her thinking—one way or another—was influenced by his father, who wanted the Brossards annihilated brutally. Any hope placed in her would likely be wasted, as she was already intent on exacting vengeance on the rebels.
Using his yellow pigment stick, he carefully crafted the letter, trying to appear cute while telling his great-grandmother how cool it would be to have an army like Uncle Odo.
Not only that, he also drew the army, giving one of the faces a resemblance to an older version of Gascon from the Gwent standalone card game, hoping it would subtly influence his great-grandmother's perception when she eventually met Gascon or his father in person.
Although in his previous life he had never studied hypnosis or psychology in depth, he had gleaned bits of information from another book on the topic. With that basic knowledge, he hoped his attempt would work, despite lacking deep expertise.
"
Dearest Great-Grandmama Hanya,
I am your great-grandson Gustave, and I want an army like Uncle Odo's. A small army is okay. An army with swords and horses and maybe dragons too, so I can go everywhere.
To Lyria! And Rivia! And then Lyria again! No need to wait for winter or spring or boring days.
I want to protect Lyria and Rivia, my toys, and my friends from the mean people in every village and town. And the dragons! Maybe they can help too.
Can you please give me soldiers who listen only to me? I promise to give them cookies, shiny helmets, and hugs. And I will wave at you every day from my big dragon in the sky.
So, please, please, please, Great-Grandmama, can I have my own army?
Your great-grandson,
Gustave
(P.S. I drew you a picture of me on a horse with my army, riding from town to town to save people from bad people. I am very brave!)
(P.P.S. Nana helped me write this letter. But still, I can already write! Cool, right, Great-Grandmama?)
"
Crumpling the letter like a toddler struggling to straighten parchment while writing, Gustave handed it to Rosemary.
"Rosemary, here. Take this and give it to Odo. And tell him that I want the letter delivered directly into my great-grandmother's hands, without it passing through my mother first."
"Understood, Your Highness."
—