The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 713

“Stop them!”

At the command of the wall’s commander, a rain of arrows darkened the sky.

Most were aimed at Ghislain, but some targeted the area just below the wall, meant to prevent others from climbing up. “Ughhh!”

Count Valesant recoiled in fear, clutching his head and crouching down. But the disaster he feared never came.

Bang! Tatatatatang!

The mercenaries huddled together, raising their shields to block the arrows. Thanks to enduring Ghislain’s hellish training, they moved with the discipline of a regular army.

“Let’s go.”

As soon as the arrow barrage ceased, Julien murmured under his breath before launching himself forward. He scaled the wall without even using a grappling hook, climbing with just his bare hands.

“Uwaaaaaah!”

Kyle and Tyron followed right behind him, their battle cries echoing. The rest of the mercenaries shouted as they charged forward.

“A man like Osvald! I shall stand here and protect our allies!”

Osvald planted himself firmly beside Count Valesant, unmoving. With their numbers so much smaller than the enemy’s, rushing into the fray was a terrifying thought.

Count Valesant turned to Osvald. Osvald turned to Count Valesant.

The moment their eyes met, both instinctively realized they were of the same breed. A strange yet knowing smile spread between them. Boom! Boom! Boom!

Meanwhile, Ghislain rampaged atop the wall, cutting through enemies without hesitation. The defenders, taken off guard by the sudden assault, fell into confusion.

“Stop him! Stop him now!”

The commander bellowed, his voice raw with desperation.

Knights and soldiers swarmed toward Ghislain, only to be knocked aside like ragdolls.

Most of the elite troops had followed the main force, leaving behind only lower-quality defenders.

Not that it would have made a difference, even if more competent fighters had remained-Ghislain’s approach alone would have shattered their defenses.

As Julien’s mercenaries scaled the wall, the defenders barely managed to maintain a semblance of order, struggling to hold their ground. Boom! Boom! Boom!

With Ghislain’s overwhelming strength, their numbers dwindled at a terrifying pace. Even the knights who threw themselves at him were utterly powerless.

Whoosh!

Ghislain did not hold back his magic either. Fireballs flew in all directions, reducing soldiers to panicked wrecks.

The wall commander screamed, veins bulging in his neck.

“Block him! Block him, damn it! Where are the mages?!”

Only three or four mages remained. Against Ghislain, a 6th-Circle mage, they had no chance of stopping him.

Before long, even the knights collapsed, their heads cracked open.

It was then that the wall commander finally realized just who they were dealing with.

“The Mad Transcendent… Astion?”

There weren’t many who could fight alone like this. And one who could also wield magic? That made it undeniable. “Why… why is he here…?”

The wall commander mumbled in a daze, his thoughts unraveling.

If a transcendent was here, their forces had no chance.

“Aaaah!”

“It’s a transcendent! It has to be!”

“Gather up! Stay together!”

Panic spread through the defenders as their frantic voices rang across the battlefield.

The wall commander slowly surveyed the battlefield. Even without the transcendent, they might not have stood a chance. “Aaaah!”

“It’s a transcendent! It has to be!”

“Gather up! Stay together!”

Panic spread through the defenders as their frantic voices rang across the battlefield.

The wall commander slowly surveyed the battlefield. Even without the transcendent, they might not have stood a chance. “I am Kyle!”

“I am Tyron!”

“I am the darkness-Dark!”

The ones cutting through their forces, shouting their names like a roll call, were far from ordinary.

Among them, a strikingly handsome man stood out, taking down enemies with elegant, effortless movements.

That had to be Julien, the mercenary captain. His renowned appearance made him impossible to mistake. “It’s over…”

The wall commander muttered unconsciously. He had fallen for the enemy’s audacious strategy.

To think they would abandon their 100,000-strong force to strike here… it had worked, but it must not have been an easy decision for them either. If they had been discovered midway, the defenders would have had time to properly form ranks.

The wall commander’s anger shifted in a different direction.

“Count Valesant! That treacherous bastard! He must have deliberately drawn attention away! We should have attacked before they got close!”

Had they done so, it wouldn’t have changed the defeat, but at least they could have mitigated the damage.

The very fact that Julien’s mercenaries reached this place without issue was proof that Valesant had cooperated with them. Otherwise, the news would have reached them much sooner.

The wall commander turned toward Count Valesant and bellowed to his men.

“Shoot him! Kill that bastard!”

This place was already lost. But at least killing Count Valesant might dull some of the humiliation.

Whoosh!

The remaining soldiers gritted their teeth and unleashed a flurry of arrows. But Count Valesant remained seated, shielded by the mercenaries. The wall commander’s face twisted with rage.

“Keep shooting! Keep shooting until that bastard is dead!”

As he roared, his gaze caught sight of an approaching force in the distance.

His expression flickered with hope.

“Could it be…?”

Reinforcements?

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Perhaps some of their troops had sensed something was wrong and rushed to assist.

But as the approaching force came into clearer view, the wall commander’s expression darkened with disappointment.

It was Valesant’s army.

Regardless of their numbers, they were still the enemy.

More foes arriving at this moment only made things worse.

The wall commander slumped his shoulders. He had given up.

Count Valesant, on the other hand, turned around, blinking in confusion.

“What? Why are they coming here?”

His adjutant was leading the troops at the front.

He stared blankly, dumbfounded, as the wall commander’s voice echoed loudly.

“Miloooord! I have arrived!”

“Waaaaahhh!”

Valesant’s troops cheered as they joined the fight.

Of course, the mercenaries were not about to just stand by and watch.

Osvald furrowed his brows and lifted his war hammer.

“A man like Osvald! A traitor shall not be forgiven! Shall we kill him?”

“N-No, no! That’s not it!”

Count Valesant, in utter panic, shouted toward his adjutant.

“Hey! Stop! Stop, I said! Stooooop!”

The charging forces of Falkenheim and Valesant had no choice but to halt.

As both sides found themselves in an awkward standoff, Count Valesant jabbed his finger at his adjutant and shouted. “What the hell?! Why are you suddenly here?!”

“My lord… you desperately pleaded for us to come rescue you…”

At those words, Osvald once again raised his war hammer. Count Valesant flinched and leaped back in panic.

“When did I ever say that?! When?!”

“I distinctly saw it in your eyes-“

“And since when do you read my eyes, you idiot?! I was telling you to stay put!”

“Ah… that doesn’t seem right, my lord. I felt it quite clearly.”

“Well, stop feeling things on your own, you fool! Do you realize I’m being mistaken for a traitor because of you?!” The adjutant hesitated, his expression conflicted.

“Then… whose side are we on?”

Count Valesant clutched his head in frustration.

“What do you mean, whose side?! We’re with Julien’s Mercenary Corps now! We’re on the royal side! So—” “So?”

Count Valesant abruptly turned around, throwing out his hand.

“Attack! Strike down the marquis’ forces! Those treacherous bastards!”

“Now! Since we’re here, we might as well make ourselves useful! If we want any credit later, we have to act now!”

“A-Ah, understood!”

And just like that, the Valesant forces charged toward the fortress once more.

“Uwaaaaaaah!”

With their battle cries, the Valesant troops surged up the walls. Since they were wearing the same armor as the mercenaries, they truly looked like one unified force.

By now, the fortress defenders were all but annihilated.

With an additional 400 soldiers assisting Julien’s Mercenary Corps, the battle concluded even faster.

The last of the fortress defenders died with a bitter expression, mumbling under his breath.

“You… insane bastards…”

As the last of the resistance crumbled, Ghislain let out a hearty laugh and gazed down from the wall.

“Count, aren’t you overexerting yourself?”

“W-We’re on the same side, aren’t we? Hah, hahaha…”

Count Valesant forced an awkward smile. He had been forcibly swept into this situation, but now, there was no turning back.

All he ever wanted was to avoid war and slack off, yet somehow, he had ended up on the front lines. Still, with a transcendent on his side, maybe this wasn’t such a bad outcome.

Julien’s Mercenary Corps and the Valesant forces merged with the remaining troops outside the fortress and marched proudly into the city.

Clank! Clank!

Without hesitation, Julien’s forces advanced straight toward the lord’s manor at the city center. The Valesant troops followed closely behind, their banners held high.

The sight was striking. They exuded the air of an official punitive force sent to eliminate rebels.

Count Valesant, walking beside Ghislain, found his face flushed, whether from excitement or nerves.

‘What is this? Is this really happening? Why am I even here? How did this happen?’

Marquis Falkenheim had once held absolute power over the kingdom. His forces still remained on the frontlines.

Julien’s Mercenary Corps had exploited a weak point in the enemy’s strategy, but they still wouldn’t have made it here this quickly or easily without Valesant’s involvement.

Dragged into this chaos against his will, Count Valesant was now on the verge of achieving a historical feat.

He straightened his back, puffing out his chest.

‘Ah, whatever! If this ends well, I’ll just claim this was my plan from the start. Maybe I should wait for the right moment and sell Julien’s Mercenary Corps out? If things go well, I might even become a royal hero. Hah! Not bad.’

A gleeful smile formed beneath his mask of composure.

With Falkenheim’s cooperation, the war was effectively over in Julien’s favor.

As Count Valesant had predicted, the number of knights and soldiers remaining at the lord’s manor was minimal.

They were already on high alert, their nerves stretched thin.

“Hold the line!”

The commander’s desperate cry rang out, but even the fortress guards had failed-these men stood no chance.

Boom!

Ghislain was the first to charge in, blasting away anyone in his path. He continued surging forward without hesitation.

The mercenaries left the remaining defenders to their comrades, pressing onward.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Ghislain smashed through doors, walls, anything that dared to stand in his way. Blood splattered in his wake, sending the castle’s servants screaming and scattering.

Ignoring them, he raced straight toward the grand hall.

Boom!

The massive doors to the hall exploded.

The first thing Ghislain saw upon entering was Marquis Falkenheim-flanked by two knights-trying to flee through a hidden passage. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Ghislain hurled his spear with brutal precision.

One of the knights swung his sword in an attempt to deflect it, but he was far outmatched.

Schlick!

The spear skewered the knight through the chest and embedded itself in the wall.

Marquis Falkenheim froze in his tracks, paralyzed with fear.

“Marquis Falkenheim!”

Ghislain called out, and the marquis slowly turned around.

For the first time since the war had begun, the two of them locked eyes.

They had each seen the other’s face in portraits before-there was no need for introductions.

Even if they hadn’t, they would have recognized each other immediately.

Both men carried the unmistakable aura of power.

Ghislain’s lips curled into a slow smirk.

“Didn’t I tell you?”

“I told you… if you touched me, you’d regret being born.”

“… You bastard.”

“Today’s the day.”

Boom!

Ghislain took a step forward, his grin turning feral.

With every step he took, the very floor beneath him began to crack apart.

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