The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

The soldiers couldn’t approach the fire, so they were barely managing to carry out the wounded who had escaped.

At first, quite a few came out, but now, almost no soldiers were making it out.

‘Damn it, they’re all injured! What am I supposed to do with this?!’

The ones who escaped early on were in relatively decent condition, but the rest were barely clinging to life. Even so, when they were all counted, there were fewer than 500.

‘Viktor, you idiot! You acted all high and mighty, and this is what you deliver? How do you lead an army of this size and still lose?!’

While Tamos cursed Viktor, Lowell, who had been nervously observing the battlefield, started to break out in a cold sweat.

‘This doesn’t make sense. No matter how fierce the flames are, this is a plain. Even if they’re badly injured, they should still be able to escape. Something, something is wrong.’

Desmond had sent a well-trained contingent of knights and soldiers as reinforcements. In a situation like this, it was impossible that all of them had fallen into a panic.

‘Was it because they were packed too closely together? If their movements were hindered and they hesitated, the fire could have spread to them…’

He had expected at least a thousand to escape, but the number of survivors was far too small.

The agonized screams still echoed from within the fire.

‘They’re screaming in pain like that, yet they’re not escaping?’

A sinking feeling gripped his heart.

Lowell immediately checked the east and west of the Ferdium fortress.

‘There’s no dust cloud!’

If the enemy had begun their pursuit, they would have deployed cavalry. By now, there should have been dust clouds visible in the distance.

‘What in the world is happening inside?’

Chills ran down his spine.

Gritting his teeth, he shouted at Tamos.

“Lord! We need to retreat immediately! Lead the remaining soldiers and knights and flee!”

“Huh? What about the wounded?”

“There’s something in there! You must flee at once!”

Tamos, who had been fidgeting for some time, suddenly brightened at Lowell’s words.

“Yes! Let’s run! Everyone, retreat!”

But it was already too late.

Men clad in black armor burst through the flames.

Their appearance resembled demons emerging straight from hell.

“T-That armor…”

Both men turned pale.

Smoke continuously billowed from the black armor.

Tamos immediately turned his horse around. He didn’t even care to wonder how they had survived the fire.

“Stop them! Block those bastards!”

Leaving those words behind, Tamos kicked his horse and fled.

“Huh? M-My Lord! My Lord! I’ll serve you well!”

Lowell, spouting empty words, quickly followed behind Tamos.

When even the last few knights fled after their lord, the soldiers, left without their commanders, plunged into chaos.

“L-Let’s run too!”

“What about the wounded?”

“We’ve already lost! If we stay here, we’re all dead too!”

The more quick-witted soldiers started to scatter one by one.

They abandoned not only the wounded but also their weapons, running for their lives.

The reinforcements sent by Desmond fared no better. They had also lost the will to fight.

“Everyone retreat! Just survive and make it back to the estate somehow!”

The mercenaries began to chase the fleeing enemies like madmen.

“Catch them all and beat them down!”

“Kahahah! Where do you think you’re running off to?!”

“Kill them all!”

The mercenaries, intoxicated by the heat of slaughter, ruthlessly butchered their enemies.

“Kraaaah!”

The screams of the enemies, who had been caught from behind, echoed throughout the battlefield.

The mercenaries ran as they finished off the wounded who had fallen. Even those limping away were decapitated.

*Crunch! Crack!*

“Spare me! I surrender! I said I surrender!”

“Aaaargh! Stop it!”

“I dropped my weapon! Please, spare me!”

Some soldiers lay flat on the ground or knelt down, begging, but such pleas were meaningless to the frenzied mercenaries.

“Our captain said not to accept any surrenders! Hahaha!”

Only a handful of soldiers managed to escape. Even Tamos’ guard forces were nearly annihilated.

“Stop! That’s enough, stop the chase!”

Gillian raised his hand, halting the mercenaries lost in their excitement.

If they continued to pursue, their own forces would scatter and become disorganized.

“Phew, what a shame.”

“That was a good warm-up! Kheheh!”

“Is it really over? Let’s loot the bodies, then.”

The mercenaries began to search the fallen corpses, looking for rings, necklaces, or anything else that might be worth some money.

As the mercenaries laughed and rifled through the bodies, Gillian approached them, growling.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Didn’t I say the spoils would be divided fairly after the war?!”

“Heh, why are you acting like you don’t know how things work?”

“First come, first served with this kind of stuff.”

“Why don’t you join in?”

When the mercenaries talked back casually, Gillian pressed his axe against the neck of the nearest one.

“Do you want to lie down next to the corpses? Who told you to act on your own?”

The men, startled by the dangerous atmosphere, hesitated and backed away.

Though Gillian always showed loyalty to Ghislain, he was, at his core, still a rough mercenary.

During training, he was known for pushing the mercenaries so hard that they feared he might actually kill them, which made them terrified of him.

Reluctantly, the mercenaries pulled their hands away from the corpses, but their faces were filled with dissatisfaction.

Knowing that simply hurting their pride would only build more resentment, Gillian added another remark.

“Have you forgotten the young lord’s orders? Even mercenaries should show the minimum respect to the dead. You’ll get your fair pay in due time.”

“Ugh…”

“Yeah, the captain did say that… Well, I guess there’s no choice.”

Grumbling, the mercenaries licked their lips but complied. They might have cursed and rebelled if it had been any other employer, but no one dared do that now.

While keeping the mercenaries in line, Gillian frequently glanced around with a heavy expression.

‘My lord…’

Ghislain was still nowhere to be seen.

‘Did something happen?’

It didn’t make sense. The mercenaries had easily defeated the enemies and escaped, so Ghislain should have returned by now.

Gillian checked his armor.

The inner lining made of *Dirus Ent* was already shriveled and had almost lost all its function. Most of it had fallen off, with only a few unsightly patches still clinging here and there.

He touched his helmet, but it was the same situation.

In this condition, he wouldn’t be able to last long inside the flames.

The fire still showed no sign of dying down, roaring all around them.

He could’ve endured by wrapping his body in mana if it had been an ordinary fire, but this was a magical fire.

Even Gillian couldn’t guarantee his safety within it.

‘I’ll have to check.’

But he couldn’t just wait around any longer.

If something had happened, he had to help, and if not, he could simply find Ghislain quickly and get out.

As Gillian moved to step forward, Kaor tilted his head and asked, “Hey, old man. You really planning to go back in there?”

“Yes. The young lord hasn’t come out yet.”

“Hahaha, are you seriously worried about that crazy guy?”

“Watch your mouth. Or should I kill you right here?”

Raising his axe, Kaor backed off, putting on a dramatic display of fear.

“Do it next time, next time. I’m too tired today, used up too much strength.”

Gillian glared at him coldly before turning away.

“Anyway, I’m going back in. You handle the mercenaries.”

“Hey, if the captain hasn’t come out yet, there’s probably a good reason, right?”

“What did you say?”

When Gillian frowned and looked back, Kaor shrugged and continued.

“I’m saying don’t go in there and screw things up. We just need to do our job properly. Am I wrong?”

“Hmm.”

Kaor had a point.

Ghislain always liked to move faster than the enemy expected.

Because of that, even his own allies had difficulty keeping up with his thinking.

He was probably doing something now that Gillian hadn’t anticipated.

But even so, Gillian couldn’t just leave him alone. Ghislain was someone who always walked a dangerous line as if balancing on the edge of a blade.

He never feared losing everything due to a single mistake.

As a loyal follower, Gillian believed it was his duty to support such a master.

‘I’ll wait a little longer.’

But since Kaor wasn’t entirely wrong, Gillian decided to wait just a little longer.

Just a little bit more.

* * *

*Clang!*

Viktor staggered. If he had reacted even a moment later, his neck would’ve been severed by the decisive blow.

He was taken aback. Was there really a knight in this estate who could threaten him?

Instinctively, he thrust his sword, causing his opponent’s body to sway as they slid back.

“Not bad!”

Viktor, regaining his composure and checking his opponent, widened his eyes in shock.

“You!”

A black suit of armor and a black helmet.

It was one of those disgusting bastards who had been getting in his way during critical moments throughout the war.

“So you’ve finally shown yourself in front of me!”

Viktor gripped his sword tightly, his rage spilling out.

Yes, he needed to hunt down and kill all of them.

He was about to step forward when something strange made him pause.

*Hissssss!*

Steam continuously rose from the opponent’s armor.

“…It wasn’t armor?”

As he focused his eyes, Viktor realized that it wasn’t originally black armor. Something black had been layered over the armor.

He could see the black material absorbing the heat and releasing steam.

‘That armor is what’s blocking the flames.’

The moment he understood, Viktor felt chills run down his spine.

“N-No way… did they plan this trap from the very beginning?”

The enemy had been wearing that armor since the first day of the war.

This meant that they could have ignited these flames at any moment.

But to maximize the trap’s effectiveness, they had baited him into gathering all his forces.

“You… you…”

Viktor was so shocked that he could barely string together a coherent sentence.

The figure tilted their head from side to side and spoke.

“Yes, this is the trap I spent a great deal of money preparing. Do you like it?”

“You… you set this up? Who… who are you?”

With the helmet on, he couldn’t see the person’s face.

But someone of this caliber? There was no way Viktor wouldn’t know who it was.

It had to be a lord, a knight commander, or the master of arms…

“Ghislain Ferdium.”

“…?”

“You don’t know me?”

“Ghislain… Ferdium? The young lord, Ghislain?”

“That’s right. It is I.”

Ghislain lifted his chin arrogantly as he declared it.

Viktor, who had been staring at him blankly, began to breathe heavily.

‘That foolish young lord… the shut-in Swordmaster… the trash of the North…’

Ghislain wasn’t even on Viktor’s radar. He wasn’t on any list of threats and hadn’t even been considered a possibility.

To think someone like this’d defeat him—it was unbearable. The humiliation that wrapped around him was suffocating.

His head felt hot, and dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. Viktor stumbled but managed to steady himself, adjusting his posture.

“I… I, the greatest knight of the North… beaten by a fool like you?”

“Yes. And your life ends here, Viktor.”

“…!”

Viktor’s mind cleared at that moment as if cold water had been thrown over him.

“How do you know my name?”

He was Harold’s hidden piece. Almost no one knew his name.

But for someone from this backwater estate, a so-called ‘foolish young lord,’ to know his name?

‘The count was wrong. The count’s information was mistaken.’

Viktor was certain.

His defeat in this war wasn’t his fault. It was Count Desmond’s failure.

There must be a traitor in the estate. Someone had leaked all of the count’s plans to the Ferdium family.

That’s how his name was revealed and how Ferdium had been able to set up such a massive magical trap.

All he had to do now… was kill this bastard.

Then, he could go back and explain.

It wasn’t his fault. He had killed the enemy that stood in his way, so everything would be fine now.

“You arrogant bastard, do you know who I am and yet still dare to show up alone and run your mouth?”

Viktor’s eyes flared with killing intent.

The heat from the flames surrounding them was no longer noticeable to him.

Only his rage burned inside, threatening to consume him entirely.

“Do you really think a fool like you can face the greatest knight of the North?”

*Boom!*

Dozens of sword strikes came crashing down on Ghislain.

*Clang, clang, clang!*

Ghislain swung his massive two-handed axe to block the strikes, but his body was gradually pushed back.

Indeed, Viktor was a formidable opponent. Despite his injuries, there was no sign of weakness in his swordsmanship.

His strikes were relentless, targeting Ghislain’s vital points with the precision of a knight following the perfect form.

His overwhelming force left Ghislain struggling to hold his ground, even with his larger weapon.

*Clang!*

As Ghislain’s axe clashed with Viktor’s sword and bounced away, Viktor seized the moment and thrust his sword.

*Thud!*

Ghislain twisted his body to dodge, but Viktor’s sword followed through, piercing his shoulder.

*Ssssss!*

The blade, heated by the flames, seared Ghislain’s flesh. Smoke rose from his shoulder as it burned.

Just as Viktor, filled with exhilaration, was about to strike again, Ghislain’s cold voice pierced his ears.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“What?”

*Whoosh!*

From Viktor’s blind spot, Ghislain’s axe cut through the air. Viktor hastily threw his body back in panic.

*Rip!*

*Splat!*

The chest of his armor split open with a tearing sound, and blood splattered.

Not missing the opportunity, Ghislain spun around and delivered a powerful kick to Viktor’s abdomen.

*Thud!*

“Gah!”

Viktor, losing his balance, fell backward but quickly scrambled to his feet.

Fortunately, the next attack didn’t immediately follow.

“You bastard! How could someone like you…”

Could this piece of trash really be skilled enough to fight him on equal footing?

No matter how injured he was, Viktor found it impossible to believe.

*Clank.*

Ghislain threw his axe to the ground.

Then, he removed his helmet and tossed it aside, revealing his sweat-drenched face.

“I admit, you’re not bad. But is that all it takes to call yourself the greatest in the North?”

Slowly, Ghislain drew the sword from his waist and pointed it at Viktor.

He smirked, his expression mocking.

“Get up. I’ll show you who the real greatest knight of the North is.”