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Mob? More Like A Hidden Boss [Mobusekai/Armored Core]

Leos Klein was never a religious man. In his past life, he was an atheist and remained one up until the day of his death in Phobos. But he knew of faith, understood their significance to others and knew what they preached and represented. He knew of sins and virtues, of afterlives being dependent on how good or bad of a person you were in life. And he knew of reincarnation, of the soul transmigrating across time and space to be reborn as someone else. So when he said he hoped that death would bring him to a better place in his last moments, he hadn’t expected this. DISCLAIMER: I am not the author of this fanfic, I just found it on AO3 and wanted to share/repost it on this site. You can read this at either Questionable Questing or AO3 if you want, I will be posting new chapter here. The author is Slug_Sling Also; check out my own fanfic, Halo: Gravemind’s Guide to Survival in Warhammer 40K.

Kais_Imperium · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
53 Chs

Chapter 32: Making A First Impression

Leon doesn't quite become friends with Chris overnight.

The boy is quite adamant in staying true to the core knightly virtues that he was raised to believe all great warriors adhered to, and Leon is mature enough to respect that choice. However, his persistence, the tales of his exploits during Carkus and Lura, and the friendliness from his family wonders to chip away at Chris' aloofness– and he eventually learns to laugh at Leon and himself, loosening up just enough for Leon to get to work.

He arranges 'game nights' where he runs simulated wars and skirmishes on tabletop board games to teach Chris the basics of asymmetric warfare as well as the main tenets of war; cleverly disguised as story scenarios. He teaches him the basics of leadership and tactics; laying down the building blocks that Chris' own natural charisma and intelligence can grow on their own.

He drills the Arclight heir in the core points of Leos' own brand of tactics and strategies, the ones that let him conquer 2 separate Kingdoms in mere months. Speed. Efficiency. As little collateral as possible. In duels and in war; Leon imparts onto Chris the lessons that Ravens lived and died by. Hit hard, dodge fast, keep moving, and never let up on the pressure.

Chris is adamant at first, wanting to give a fair fight to his enemies as his honor demanded. And Leon obliges him, and appropriately sets up increasingly difficult scenarios until they become outright impossible to win– ones that pit Chris and his forces against ever more experienced and prepared foes attacking ever more important targets. Large towns and villages, cities and trading hubs, fortresses and military bases, until finally culminating in Chris' character failing to protect his King and Queen.

He was pissed, of course– accusing Leon of stacking the odds in his favor deliberately so Chris would be defeated at that climactic final battle.

"Of course I did. And you let me." Leon shrugs. "You let a strong opponent repeatedly escape with knowledge on your combat tactics, deployment plans, Armor loadout, and dueling style. The logical course of action they would take is to report that information to their superiors and develop counter-measures to you. That you focus on close combat with literally no ranged options at all makes you laughably easy to counter."

"But where is the honor? The chivalry?" Chris demands. "Why do they not fight with the sort of values we Holfortans do?"

"Why would they? They are not Holfortans." Leon counters. "In real life, no-one is bound to follow whatever expectations you set for them– least of all your enemies. In fact, they would do their best to go against you in whatever way possible. To them, you are but another obstacle and threat to their goals. And the common soldier will not hesitate to kill you if it means returning home alive."

Chris is not happy about that truth, but he has no arguments against Leon's words. So he adapts, using more ruthless means and less 'chivalrous' tactics to achieve objectives and complete missions. He takes it out on Leon during their spars, but it's well-worth it in the reincarnate's opinion.

Then, one day, Leon receives visitors– from other Baronies and Viscountcies bearing familiar faces; his fellow Forest of Ladies' victims. They come to say hello to their commander, and pledge their loyalty to him as followers and vassals for spectacular leadership displayed across 2 wars and an impossible promise kept.

Though hesitant at first, Leon welcomes them all with open arms once they confirm that this is of their own doing, and even introduces them to Chris; who is initially overwhelmed by the display of camaraderie and brotherhood by these war veterans before being brought into the fold– against his will at times. And they are unrepentant of it, knowing that there is little Chris could do beyond complain and grumble lightly.

Spars are had, where Chris wins many 1-on-1 and provides advice and commentary to those seeking to learn the blade. Stories are shared, of humorous experiences and close shaves with death averted only through Leon's tactics. Meals are eaten together, and all learn to love Luce Fou Bartford's cooking as well as the red-haired Demi-Human regularly conscripted to deliver it to them. Dungeon dives are undertaken side by side, where Chris learns the value of teamwork and cooperation against the monsters inhabiting the depths of the dungeon.

Slowly, gradually, Chris learns to loosen up around others– his aloof mask revealing hints of the bright young man beneath. In the face of all the good cheer and genuineness, it's hard to remain detached and cold.

4 months of this pass, and when Chris judges Leon to be of passable skill the Arclight heir decides to return home with the knowledge and understanding he had gained from Leon. All he asks is that Leon continue working on his swordsmanship, expecting him and his vassals to spar regularly when they get to the Academy.

Thankfully, they have 3 months to prepare beforehand. Research is done, clothes are bought, and proper enrollment documents are filled out. He even receives a quick briefing from his older siblings, who return home for the end-of-year vacation. He mostly ignores Jenna's lectures when they are mostly her telling him to not cause any more trouble than he already has as well as the caveat of her demanding– demanding money from him as his 'dear older sister'. He only agrees to hand her the money on the condition that she owe him a favor in the future, which she grudgingly agrees to.

He then proceeds to hand Nicks twice as much money as he did Jenna; for better providing a much more comprehensive briefing than she did.

Time passes quickly in between Leon's preparations for entering the Academy, running his Viscountcy, and keeping in touch with his underlings/vassals. He also learns not too long after how Hustler One buys out the red-haired Demi-Human woman's work contract from his father, quickly assigning her to be Leon's Armor mechanic as a trial run for full employment in the Little Buzzard later on.

"She's got something in her that I find interesting." is the only reasoning Hustler gives.

"If she tattles about our plans to someone, I'm killing her." Leon responds.

"I will allow it, but I have a good feeling about her." the A.I shrugs. "Give it time. She may yet prove useful to us."

"She better– I'll have to go to a glorified high school filled with privileged hormonal teenagers with her as my personal Armor mechanic. Imagine the rumors that'll crop up." Leon grumbles. "Ugh, fucking teenagers."

"You'll manage it somehow." Hustler giggles. "I have faith in you."

=X=X=X=X=X=

Butterflies tug at her stomach as she steps through the Royal Academy's gates, keeping her head low and posture as demure as she can. Immediately, eyes fall on her followed by sneers and muttered insults; the other girls finding her to be nothing more than an eyesore and a mere 'commoner'.

Olivia takes a deep breath and perseveres, not allowing any of it to bring her down.

She is a commoner, yes, but the kind gentleman that offered to sponsor her into the Academy had assured her many times that she had what it took to succeed and thrive; moreso than some nobles even. Perhaps it was her curiosity in learning magic, perhaps it was her honestly wanting to help the gentleman when he was down, or something else entirely. But she knew that if a man as kind as her sponsor would assure her as to her worthiness to being in such a prestigious institution, then she must be able to fit in eventually. Surely, her peers would find it in themselves to give her an opportunity to prove herself, right?

So she would grit her teeth and bear it, and let her hard work speak for itself. After all, all Holfortans are self-made in one way or another– the same has to apply in the Academy.

Right?

She shakes her head. No, now is not the time for doubts. There is an entrance ceremony that she has to get to and it wouldn't do her status as a future student here any good if she is tardy to the first major event of the year.

"Kyaah! Look!" one girl squeals. "It's His Highness, the Prince! And his entourage!"

Olivia gasps and turns to where everyone is pointing. There, she sees him; the Crown Prince of Holfort, Julius Rafa Holfort. He is handsome, tall, with a head of light purple hair and a regal gaze that has many of the other girls squeal with excitement. He carries himself with the air of confidence befitting someone of his stature and pedigree. Girls all around Olivia let out excited noises; happy to see such a fetching young man with their own eyes.

The other 4 young men following him are quite handsome as well– each one looming tall with physiques easily denoting their impressive pedigrees. All of them are unaffected by the sounds from the girls around them, walking with the sort of indifference that sees the girls squealing louder.

Olivia frowns at them. It was a little rude, honestly; how can they receive so much praise and not even acknowledge it? The poor girls' feelings must be hurt!

"Oh, look! It's Lady Redgrave, His Highness' fiancee!" another girl gasps. "She looks so pretty!"

Olivia follows the fingers and turned heads, spotting the young woman who walks after the Prince's group; her own followers trailing behind her. Like her fiancee, she too carries herself with the sort of confidence befitting one of her stature and possesses a sharpness to her gaze that makes Olivia swallow nervously. G-Goodness, were all nobles in the Academy so… intense?

The commoner shakes her head to dispel her worries. This was a school, a place of learning. So what if they were so intense? They were all peers here studying the same subjects from the same teachers– she would grow used to their presence as time goes by.

But then, just as she was about to continue moving to the auditorium, she hears it.

Cheering and clapping.

Slowly at first, but it grows in volume. Heads turn, including those of the Prince's group as well as Lady Redgrave– beholding the new arrival. Olivia gasps at who she sees walking forward, leading two lines of male students 10 bodies long.

"The Raven…!" she whispers.

The boy who conquered two kingdoms practically on his lonesome, who dueled a King in honorable combat and won, who led the storming of a capital city and captured it in less than a day.

He stands tall, only a little shorter than the Prince with broad shoulders and dark hair. His dark eyes are sharp and focused, almost frightening in their intensity. The young men that march behind him are only slightly less intimidating than the Raven himself, being war veterans and skilled warriors themselves. Cheers and applause erupt where he and his men walk, their deeds and fame preceding them even here.

When he walks past Olivia's section of onlookers, she feels her breath catch in her throat for the brief moment that he moves past her– his presence alone so powerful that Olivia feels her knees tremble. Some of the other girls practically faint, overcome by the air of sheer dominance that he radiates.

Then his group stops.

"Your Highness," he bows to the Crown Prince, his men following his movement. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Viscount Bartford." the Prince nods. "I hadn't expected to see you here today."

"That is understandable– you must no doubt be busy with your duties as Crown Prince." the Raven nods. "I hope our schooling together will be fruitful; for both of us."

"Indeed." the Prince nods.

"Hello Leon." the bespectacled member of the Prince's entourage says. A few people gasp at the casualness in the greeting, and some of the other entourage members gawk at him. "Keeping up with your sword practice, I hope?"

"Oh, definitely Chris. We should get together and spar again. All of us." the Raven grins, turning to his men. "How about it, boys?"

A round of cheers go up from them, eagerness on open display.

"Enthusiasm will not be enough to break my winning streak." the bespectacled boy, Chris, laughs. For some reason, that makes the other entourage members gawk wider at him.

"Oh, we'll certainly try." the Raven laughs back, before turning and bowing to the Prince's fiancee. "Lady Redgrave."

"Lord Bartford." the blonde nods back. "My brother sends his best regards and an invitation to lunch when he's next available."

"Of course. And tell him that I'll foot the bill next time, hmm?" he smiles. "That's the least I can do for the help he's rendered."

"I will be sure to relay the message." the blonde smiles.

"Thank you." the Raven nods. "But that's enough dallying around, everyone. Come, we have an orientation to attend. Wouldn't want to be late on our first day, after all."

He walks forward and everyone follows; excitement and barely contained whispers erupting in his wake. Olivia watches as the entire crowd moves after the Raven, such was the strength of his presence. The commoner swallows as she hurries after them, steps lighter and heart aflutter.

=X=X=X=X=X=

Leon and the rest of his followers were invited to a party in one of the capital's bars– arranged and hosted by a handful of third-year seniors who express joy in being able to welcome another group of appropriately-ranked freshmen into the Academy's Advanced Course. They cheer, a little too weak for his liking, and take deep gulps of their tankards; cheap ale all told.

The reincarnate drains his entire tankard in one go, much to the awe of his fellow freshmen, before walking up to the counter and slamming 3 platinum coins on it.

"If we're to have a welcoming party, then bust out the good stuff!" he cries. "Barkeep, keep yourself and the entire bar lubricated and fed with the best you got! On me!"

Raucous cheers break out, tankards and fists rapping on tables alongside applause. A chant starts that eventually engulfs the whole bar.

"Le-on! Le-on! Le-on! Le-on!"

The young man in question just laughs as he helps hand out the drinks and food, encouraging his fellows to drink and eat to their heart's content.

He's heard horror stories from Nicks regarding the Advanced Course– when noblemen attend mainly to find good young women to be their future wives in a school filled with younger but no less greedy versions of Zola.

It is painful for them, the lower-ranked noblemen with little in the way of money and influence, to find a good woman and Leon sympathizes. Saint knows he himself would soon be besieged by 'admirers' and harpies desiring his wallet over his love– at least in this he would be able to commiserate with his peers while spreading his influence. Good food and drink go a long way towards earning loyalty after all, and he would need it if he was to spread his influence.

A regime change needed manpower, after all.

"Man, the stories I heard about you were vastly exaggerated!" a tanned boy laughs, settling beside Leon. "I thought the guy who conquered two kingdoms would be a lot more intimidating up close!"

"Indeed, you're much more personable than I expected." another boy wearing glasses agrees. "My father told me to be wary of you, Bartford. I'm glad that's not the case and that you're one of us."

"Hey, just because I'm being kind doesn't mean you can start assuming things." Leon sighs. "I'm just in a good mood is all. Nothing more than that."

"Sure thing, 'Kingslayer'." the first boy teases. "I'm Daniel. Daniel Fou Dalant."

"Raymond Fou Arkin." the second boy nods.

"Nice to meet you both." Leon nods. "You can call me Leon– 'Lord' feels too stuffy for me."

"Thanks for buying us all drinks, Leon." Daniel nods. "You're a good guy. Better than what we thought you'd be, given the stories we've heard of you."

"What have you heard of me?" he asks, intrigued.

"That you were a warrior straight out of ancient times leading men to take fortresses as you slew enemy generals single-handedly." Raymond starts. "Or how you could be in one place and suddenly reappear elsewhere in a blink of an eye. Or how you would strike down anyone that dared stand up to you."

"...I only did the last part on enemies and underlings that refused to follow orders and posed a threat to innocents." Leon grudgingly says, much to Daniel and Raymond's (as well as all within earshot's) apparent awe. "Don't give me that look– it was the most expedient action!"

"And helped save a lot of peoples' lives!" one of his underlings shouts. "To Commander Leon! Cheers!"

"Cheers!" the whole bar echoes.

"Your ass is grass the next time we spar, Harold!" Leon faux-threatens, and the whole bar laughs. "Bah! Let them off the leash and suddenly they think they can backtalk without issue. Damn traitors."

"Let them have their fun, Bartford. I'd say they earned it." another student chuckles, approaching them. "I'm Rukul, a third year. I'm a little impressed you've managed to make such a splash already."

"I survived 2 wars– might as well go all out while I can." Leon shrugs. "Not like it's doing anyone any harm, right?"

"You say that now, but you know what they say about the nail that sticks out." Rukul cautions him.

Leon chuckles. It was kind of Rukul to warn him, really. But using that analogy after all the deeds he's accomplished?

"Then I invite anyone to come and try!" Leon shouts, arms spread. "I've sunk fleets, broken armies, taken cities, and dueled kings! If I stand out the most, then I expect the hammer that comes to strike me down to be heavy indeed– any less and it may well shatter!"

A round of cheers go up, Daniel and Raymond lending their voices to it as well. Rukul blinks in surprise at the amount of support and Leon's own daring, before sighing ruefully.

"Alright, alright. I should have thought about that before I came over– being a war hero does let you get away with some things." Rukul nods. "My father was right to tell me to be on the lookout for you, given your accomplishments. This year seems to be filled with all manner of exceptional individuals."

"Yeah," Daniel nods. "To think that a commoner would be allowed to enroll…"

"Hm?" Leon blinks. "A commoner? What's so exceptional about that? She's probably a General Course student, right?"

"Oh, no, she's not in the General Course– she's in the Advanced Course along with the rest of us nobles." Raymond clarifies. "With how His Highness the Prince is enrolling this year too, everyone's worried about her accidentally causing a scene given her background. Or, rather, the lack of it."

"To think that a commoner could get a sponsorship…" Daniel murmured. "She must either be very capable or possess quite the… skillset."

Leon hums, thinking over the information. A commoner earning a scholarship into the Royal Academy? And being put into the Advanced Course, no less? That was a course meant for noble house heirs, future noble house heads, and individuals of particularly exceptional backgrounds– like once-in-a-generation adventurers, scholars, geniuses, and war heroes. Even Daniel's implication of her using less-than-stellar means would be too far-fetched.

The various screening and vetting processes are comprehensive and multi-layered, with multiple people overseeing each screening stage for an applicant; chosen at random from a pool of trusted individuals. Usually, most noble houses use bribes to grease the metaphorical wheels and let their kids through faster or outright guarantee a spot, but commoners had no such resources and thus couldn't possibly have slipped through the vetting process… unless they were deemed fit to enroll.

Curious. Very curious.

"This commoner girl," Leon says. "What's her name?"

Daniel, Raymond, and Rukul turn to him with surprised looks. Leon rolls his eyes.

"Someone has to make sure she doesn't cause any trouble– if everybody is hemming and hawing about His Highness, then it falls to the next responsible person." Leon says.

"She's but a commoner, Bartford. You'd do well to stay away from her." Daniel warns.

"I'll be the judge of that." Leon drawls. "Now, her name please."

"It's Olivia. Olivia Freycross." Rukul answers, sighing. "I understand your curiosity Bartford, but do remember the status gulf between you and the girl– it will cause issues."

"You worry too much, Rukul." Leon chuckles. "She's a commoner. What's the worst that could happen if I decide to get to know her a little?"