The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 714

Boom! Crack!

A fierce aura surged around Ghislain, radiating outward with overwhelming force. The sheer pressure shattered the stone floor beneath his feet. Several knights and soldiers scrambled to pursue him, but the moment they stepped into the grand hall, they faltered.

“Urgh…”

“W-What is this…?”

They clutched at their throats, gasping for air, struggling to keep their focus on Ghislain. Even breathing in this space had become an ordeal. The sheer intensity of his presence was suffocating.

“Kgh…”

Marquis Falkenheim clenched his teeth and bowed his head, his body trembling under the crushing weight of the pressure bearing down on him. Yet, even worse than the physical strain was the humiliation.

“This… damn… bastard…”

To be humiliated by a mere mercenary.

One of the knights beside the marquis took a step forward, his sword drawn.

Boom!

“Urgh…!”

Unlike the others, he withstood the overwhelming force pressing down on him. He was burning through his very life force to resist.

It wasn’t out of loyalty or sheer determination-

It was the primal instinct of the weak, struggling to survive.

“AAAAHHHH!”

With a desperate roar, the knight shattered his own limits, pushing past his body’s constraints. Boom!

His mana and life force erupted like a storm, his hair turning stark white in an instant. The surge of power briefly elevated him beyond his natural abilities.

Boom!

He charged, slicing through the intangible pressure suffocating the hall, his sword radiating with an eerie blue light, brimming with raw energy. Ghislain did not evade.

Instead, he twisted his body slightly, drawing his right fist back.

Clench.

His teeth ground together as he concentrated his magic into his fist. Then, as the blade approached-

He punched straight at the sword.

BOOM!

A thunderous explosion ripped through the chamber. The impact sent shockwaves through the entire hall, cracking pillars and sending the weaker soldiers collapsing to the ground, coughing up blood.

“Gh… agh…”

The knight stared at his shattered sword.

Then he looked down.

His chest had been pierced clean through.

He let out a faint chuckle, his lips curling into a bitter smile.

“Unbelievable… I thought I could land at least one blow…”

He had pushed beyond his limits, unleashing every ounce of his power, but it had amounted to nothing.

The gap between them was insurmountable.

Ghislain slowly withdrew his fist, letting the knight crumble lifelessly to the ground.

“This era is full of reckless fools.”

He muttered something incomprehensible before turning his gaze back to Marquis Falkenheim.

The marquis was still kneeling, struggling to endure the crushing force weighing him down. Boom.

Ghislain took another step forward.

As if an invisible hand was pressing down on him, Falkenheim’s knees buckled further.

“Kh…!”

He gritted his teeth, trying to hold his ground, but there was no resisting this force.

When Ghislain closed the last of the distance between them, Falkenheim finally collapsed completely.

Yet his gaze remained fierce and unbroken. He growled through clenched teeth,

“How the hell… did you even think of this plan…?”

Even in defeat, he couldn’t comprehend it.

How had Ghislain thrown away a hundred-thousand-strong army as bait just to get here?

A single misstep, and his forces would have suffered catastrophic losses.

Ghislain chuckled.

“What does an army matter?”

“This fight was always between you and me.”

Falkenheim’s eyes widened in shock.

And then, realization struck.

Ghislain was right.

This wasn’t a battle dictated by strategy.

This wasn’t a war fought to protect something.

Why had he been so blind?

Why had he thought of this as a normal war?

Why hadn’t he realized he was fighting a madman who used everyone and everything as disposable pawns? Yes.

This had never been a battle between armies.

This was a fight between him and Ghislain.

He had misread it. If he had understood earlier, he wouldn’t have waged war like this.

He would have mobilized his entire force solely to kill Ghislain.

But it was too late.

He had tried to fight a lunatic with conventional tactics.

Defeat was inevitable.

With a bitter sigh, Falkenheim spoke.

“So… it’s my loss.”

“But if I fall, the kingdom will plunge into even greater chaos. Do you think those greedy nobles will sit still?” Ghislain tilted his head.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“What?”

“You’re mistaken if you think I give a damn about this kingdom’s stability.”

“I’m just getting revenge because you came after me first. Did you really think I’d just sit there and take it?”

Falkenheim stared at him, utterly dumbfounded.

This bastard…

He was willing to tear down the entire kingdom over a personal grudge.

Had he ever truly understood who he was dealing with?

Ghislain shrugged casually.

“But hey, at least I kept the royal family intact. Now Count Norton and Count Raks will be the new power behind the throne.”

“I planned for that. And you, my dear marquis, just happened to make it easier for me.”

“Don’t overthink it. I took care of personal business and cleaned up the kingdom along the way.”

Ghislain was well aware of what was to come.

With Falkenheim gone, his vassals would break apart and turn on each other.

Even if Alex reclaimed the throne, he wouldn’t have the power to command them yet.

The nobles wouldn’t submit quietly.

They’d fight, each trying to carve out their own territory, each trying to claim the title of the next Falkenheim.

And that was fine.

Because while they fought, Norton and Raks would rise even higher.

And the Demon Sword would inevitably be reborn in this era.

When that time came, the kingdom would unite under a single force.

Ghislain alone had the vision and audacity to move the world in this way.

Falkenheim let out a twisted smile.

“… You might be right.”

“If my faction collapses, the king will be safe for now.”

“Exactly.”

“Which means… you won’t kill me just yet.”

“Because without me, my army would rampage uncontrollably.”

Ghislain smirked.

“Quick on the uptake.”

He nodded.

The Marquis of Falkenheim could not be killed immediately.

If he were to die, his army, having lost its focal point, could spiral into uncontrollable chaos.

It was necessary to take him as a hostage and use him to dissolve his forces. If the vassals were granted amnesty, they would willingly return to their respective territories and focus on defense.

Even Ghislain, who had been watching for an opportunity, would lose any will to fight.

The Marquis of Falkenheim, his gaze cold and unyielding, spoke.

“I won’t let things go your way.”

With a sharp twist of his waist, he drew a dagger.

Then, without hesitation, he thrust it at his own throat.

Snap!

“Kh…!”

The dagger halted just before piercing his larynx, held back by invisible force.

Ghislain had extended threads of mana, binding the blade in midair.

“You underestimate a transcendent far too much.”

To one who existed in a different temporal flow, the movements of ordinary men were unbearably slow. Especially at this distance, there was no difficulty in intercepting the act.

“Still, I must acknowledge your pride as the kingdom’s most powerful noble. You truly meant to die.”

“… Keh. Spare me your worthless praise.”

In the end, the Marquis of Falkenheim failed in his suicide attempt. Bound tightly in restraints, he was handed over to the soldiers following behind Ghislain and was promptly led away.

Yet, even in captivity, his posture remained unwavering, his steps firm and unbroken.

His eyes, sharp as ever, gleamed with a vow-to seize power again, should the opportunity arise.

As he was being dragged away, the Marquis of Falkenheim spotted Count Valesant standing by the command post.

Reports from the castle walls stated that the Julien Mercenary Corps had been easily pushed back due to Count Valesant’s actions.

But there was no satisfaction in seeing him.

The marquis narrowed his eyes at the count and spoke coldly.

“I will never forget what you’ve done.”

Count Valesant flinched and quickly turned away.

A timid man by nature, he could not withstand the marquis’s presence.

All he could do was stare at the wall, cold sweat running down his back.

“No, I was just… just trying to take a break… I didn’t mean to get dragged into this… Ah, why is it so hot in here? Do they not care about ventilation?

Is this magic?”

Muttering to himself, Count Valesant wiped away his sweat, still unsettled.

With the Marquis of Falkenheim’s defeat now certain, Ghislain raised his voice to the assembled forces.

“Well done, everyone! Once again, we have won!”

At his declaration, the army erupted in cheers.

“AAAAHHHH! We won!”

“I can’t believe this insane plan actually worked!”

“As expected, we’re the best mercenary corps out there!”

The mercenaries, relieved and elated, beamed with pride.

“Count Valesant, victory to you!”

For Valesant’s forces, the only emotion they felt was relief-they were simply glad to be alive.

Kyle and Tyron shook their heads with a chuckle.

“Wow… this really worked?”

“Even seeing it happen, I can’t believe it.”

They had opposed this ridiculous plan at the start.

It would have been safer to maintain a delicate balance and stall for time.

But once they got swept up in Ghislain’s schemes, they had no choice but to go along-and in the end, it had succeeded.

Luck had played a role, but even accounting for that, the strategy was astonishingly bold.

Dark, however, was unimpressed, his expression dissatisfied.

“Hmph, my master has carried out ambushes against far worse monsters than this. Back then, he even had to deal with kingdom-sanctioned swordsmen and Master-class mages. Of course, one should be more cautious when dealing with Masters, but still-“

Naturally, the two did not believe him.

They assumed Dark was just exaggerating again.

Noticing the mockery in their expressions, Dark flared up.

“What’s with those looks?! You don’t believe me?!”

“Oh, sure, sure. Wow, a sparrow that takes down Masters. Incredible.”

Kyle’s sarcastic tone only provoked Dark further, causing him to conjure small flames.

“You insolent fool! I shall curse you!”

“Go ahead, be my guest.”

As everyone reveled in their victory, Julien stood amidst the celebration, his eyes filled with admiration.

Even he had not expected to win so easily.

Ghislain, approaching casually, slung an arm around Julien’s shoulders with a grin.

“See that?”

“Ghislain.”

“This is how you fight-always bold and swift.”

Julien shook his head with a small smile.

“This only works because it’s you. No one else could pull it off.”

“Hey, if you believe in yourself, you can do it. You just need conviction.”

Whenever they had the time, Ghislain would teach Julien everything he knew.

And Julien, knowing Ghislain’s sincerity, earnestly tried to learn.

But it wasn’t easy.

Ghislain’s actions were so audacious, so unpredictable, that even copying half of them seemed impossible.

For Julien, Ghislain had only one piece of advice, repeated time and again.

“No matter what anyone says, push forward with what you believe is right.

Even if everyone around you tells you not to, just do it.”

“But what if I’m wrong?”

“Ah, come on, don’t be so weak-willed. You’re destined to be a legendary hero.

So have some confidence.

One day, you’re going to be the one leading everyone.”

For now, all eyes were on Astion.

He was the one basking in fame and attention.

But Ghislain was not concerned in the slightest.

Because once he was gone, the era would inevitably revolve around Julien.

His tone lighthearted but filled with trust, Ghislain’s words made Julien chuckle.

As Ghislain patted him on the shoulder and joined the rowdy mercenaries, Julien remained still, watching his retreating figure in deep thought.

To fight for what I believe in…

It was still too difficult.

He wasn’t yet strong enough.

And when the time came for a critical decision, if the whole world opposed him…

Would he have the strength to press forward?

Yet, sooner or later, everyone faces that moment.

Julien could only hope that, when his time came, he would make the right choice.

Even if the entire world stood against him.

To have the strength to push forward… like Ghislain.

Clenching his fist, Julien smiled.

For the first time, it was not a hesitant or uncertain smile.

It was one of determination.

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