The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 695

"Wooooah! Long live our lord!"

"Long live Julien’s Mercenary Corps!"

Clap! Clap! Clap!

The people of Nodehill and Raks erupted into cheers as the triumphant allied forces returned.

When news first spread that Count Crest had declared war, the entire region had been gripped with fear. The disparity in military strength was simply too vast.

But then, a miracle had occurred. The mighty Count Crest had fallen.

Of course, it wasn’t just Nodehill’s forces that had won the battle—the allied army and Julien’s Mercenary Corps had played a major role. Still, the fact remained: they had won.

"As expected of Julien’s Mercenary Corps!"

"They have a black mage in their ranks, don’t they?!"

"The lord hiring them was a stroke of genius!"

People could talk about nothing else but Julien’s Mercenary Corps. And with Ghislain’s name now attached to the victory, his reputation was soaring.

The people had placed their full trust in the mercenaries, who had proven themselves time and time again.

To celebrate the victory, a grand festival was held in Nodehill. As its lord, Andrew spent freely—using money borrowed from Leo—to provide food and drinks to the people.

"As long as we have Julien’s Mercenary Corps, we’ll never have to worry again."

"They even took care of the local bandits for us. Truly a mercenary corps to be grateful for."

"I wish they’d just stay in our territory forever."

Clap! Clap! Clap!

The townspeople reveled in their celebrations, while Andrew and Leo wore broad smiles the entire day. Their territories had expanded significantly, after all.

Of course, they couldn’t ignore the potential consequences, but for now, they chose to enjoy the moment.

The two spent the following days discussing their plans for managing the new lands.

"Don’t worry too much about stabilizing the region. I’ll lend you more money if necessary," Leo assured.

Andrew chuckled.

"Leo, I still owe you plenty from before… I should at least offer you more trade goods in return."

"Haha, that won’t be necessary. If we need anything, we can simply purchase it through the guild."

Leo’s wealth was steadily increasing thanks to the gold mines. Additionally, his merchant guild was expanding, forging new trade connections and strengthening its influence.

Meanwhile, Andrew didn’t have much to boast about. However, thanks to his open and charismatic nature, talented individuals had started flocking to Nodehill.

As they discussed regional affairs, Andrew frowned.

"By the way, what’s taking Count Swipel so long to respond? This isn’t something that should require much deliberation."

"Indeed. The sooner the land division is finalized, the sooner we can properly secure our forces."

Count Swipel had taken control of key locations within Crest’s former territory, sending only a brief message asking for patience.

But in truth, he had no reason to delay.

Everyone knew that this war had been won thanks to Julien’s Mercenary Corps. Swipel was only receiving land because he was a noble—it was purely out of courtesy. If the mercenaries demanded a price, he’d have to pay it, even if it meant selling some of his own land.

Yet, Julien’s Mercenary Corps had asked for nothing. They had simply left the division of the land up to the others.

Given that generosity, what could Count Swipel possibly be deliberating over?

Leo scratched his cheek, wearing an awkward smile.

"Surely… he’s not trying to take everything for himself, right?"

Andrew scoffed.

"Come on. He saw what Julien’s Mercenary Corps did. Only a madman would have thoughts like that."

Even Crest’s forces hadn’t been able to put up a proper fight against them. Swipel’s troops were even weaker by comparison.

So, the two dismissed the idea. If Count Swipel had any sense, he wouldn’t be entertaining such foolishness.

Andrew shrugged.

"Maybe he’s just trying to find an excuse to take a slightly larger portion. I’ll send another messenger to arrange a meeting."

They decided to wait a bit longer. Even if there was a delay, there wasn’t much to worry about.

After all, Count Swipel had no viable options to defy them.

***

While waiting for Count Swipel’s response, the entire army remained stationed in Nodehill.

The first priority was handling the prisoners.

The captives were divided between Nodehill and Raks. Since they had taken over Crest’s territory, there was no longer any need to worry about the prisoners’ families causing unrest.

However, Andrew and Leo found themselves facing a different problem.

"Hmm… there are more prisoners than we have soldiers," Andrew mused. "Can we even manage them properly?"

"Money isn’t an issue—we can afford to feed them. But how do we turn them into usable troops?" Leo added.

Integrating people from different regions was never easy. They lacked experience in absorbing prisoners into their ranks and had no idea how to quickly unify them.

And they couldn’t just keep them locked up forever.

In the end, they sought Ghislain’s advice.

Ghislain, the ‘Wise Man’ as they now jokingly called him, listened to their concerns and nodded.

"It’s a valid worry. Managing the post-war period is often harder than the war itself. Cleaning up the aftermath is never easy."

"So… what do we do?" Andrew asked.

"The fastest way to unify a group," Ghislain said with a grin, "is to create a common enemy."

"A common… enemy?" Leo repeated.

"That’s right. If they fight together against a shared foe, they’ll naturally bond."

Andrew and Leo exchanged glances. It made sense in theory.

But who were they supposed to fight?

Andrew hesitated before voicing his concern.

"Look, I know we’re worried about Marquis Falkenheim’s retaliation, but that’s something for the future. If we’re going to fight him, we need our troops unified before that happens."

If their forces weren’t cohesive, they would collapse in the face of a stronger enemy. Soldiers who hadn’t bonded yet wouldn’t hesitate to flee the moment things got tough.

They needed an opponent they could definitely beat.

"But we don’t even have bandits left in the region. Julien’s Mercenary Corps already took care of them. We can’t just march into another territory and start a fight."

Ghislain nodded in agreement. A conventional approach wouldn’t work in such a short time.

But who was Ghislain?

He was a veteran of countless battlefields, a man who had once manipulated half an entire kingdom’s military forces. There was no one on the continent more experienced in military growth than him.

With a dramatic sigh, he shook his head.

"Looks like there’s no other choice. I’ll have to make a sacrifice."

"Huh?"

"I’ll become your enemy."

"………"

"What’s with those faces? Is that not enough?"

"N-no, it’s not that. It’s just… it might be too much."

This was the man who had single-handedly defeated over five thousand enemies.

If he played the role of an enemy, it wouldn’t be a training exercise—it would be a massacre.

As the awkward silence stretched, Ghislain smirked and waved a hand dismissively.

"Come on, don’t look so nervous. I’m not actually going to fight them. I’ll just put them through the most extreme training possible."

"…So, they’ll end up hating you?" Andrew asked hesitantly.

"Exactly. If I push them to their limits, they’ll all start cursing my name. And that frustration will bond them together. All you two need to do is act as the ‘good guys’ and take care of them afterward."

Leo and Andrew exchanged uneasy looks but eventually nodded.

If Ghislain said he would handle it, then he would.

He began by mixing the troops from Nodehill, Raks, and Crest together, reorganizing them into new squads.

And then, the hellish training began.

When the soldiers read the training schedule, their faces turned pale.

"Why do we have to run with iron weights strapped to us?!"

"We have to thrust our spears ten thousand times a day?! That’s impossible!"

"Why the hell is there an exercise called ‘Endurance in Fire for One Hour’?!"

"There’s also one called ‘Survive One Hour Buried in Sand’."

"Push-ups… ten thousand?!"

"We have to do all of this… every single day?!"

This was not a training meant for ordinary soldiers. Not even elite troops of a grand territory could withstand it.

No, it was simply not meant for humans.

Even knights were no exception. They had to undergo the same training as the soldiers.

By the time morning drills ended, half of them had collapsed. Even those who had managed to endure—knights included—dropped before the afternoon session was over.

In just a single day, the combined forces of the three territories had been utterly wiped out by training alone.

But Ghislain didn’t stop.

"Deneb! Heal them all, quickly!"

"……"

No matter how hard Deneb worked, she couldn’t heal everyone. Being a small territory, she was the only priest available.

Every servant and healer in the land was mobilized to care for the fallen soldiers.

Still, Ghislain relentlessly pushed forward. He bled inside, but he steeled himself.

"I will become the devil for your sake."

Soldiers collapsed every time training began. It was never meant to be something a human could endure.

The same was true for knights. Eventually, they gathered before Ghislain, practically in tears.

"Please stop this training!"

"This is nothing but torture!"

"There’s no way a human being can withstand this!"

Ghislain simply gave them an incredulous look.

"Why not? Isn’t it just because you’re not trying hard enough?"

And with that, he personally demonstrated every part of the training.

Naturally, he completed it all without breaking a sweat.

"You see? If you put in the effort, you can do it."

"……"

There was nothing more to say. The knights had just witnessed with their own eyes that this lunatic could actually pull it off.

Of course, Ghislain knew full well that the training he was demanding had nothing to do with effort—it was physically impossible for normal people. But right now, the goal wasn’t increasing combat strength. It was forging unity.

Sure enough, after a week, everyone had become united… in their hatred of Ghislain.

"That crazy monster bastard… Does being good at fighting mean you can just ignore human limits?"

"No, seriously, how the fuck are we supposed to survive inside fire for an hour?"

"Is this guy using us for some kind of twisted magical experiment?"

"I’d rather go to war than suffer through this training."

"God, I miss the old training. I thought it was tough before, but now it feels like a goddamn vacation."

Since Ghislain willingly played the villain, the suffering soldiers naturally bonded with each other.

Having a shared enemy was incredibly effective. It no longer mattered who had it worse.

They were all suffering together, and that alone forged a powerful camaraderie.

Around that time, Andrew and Leo began to take action. They handed out alcohol and meat to the soldiers, sympathizing with their hardship. Occasionally, they even gave them breaks.

"As I watch you all suffer through this training, my heart aches," Andrew declared. "From now on, you shall all rest for two full days!"

"WOOOOOAH!!!"

They were just being told to rest, yet the soldiers cheered as if they had won another war.

As time passed, Andrew and Leo’s reputations soared, while Ghislain’s notorious name spread like wildfire.

Seeing the soldiers change day by day, Andrew and Leo were moved.

"He’s really sacrificing his own reputation for us…"

"Truly remarkable. Not many would be willing to throw away their own name like this."

"Exactly. Only a great man would bear such burdens for the greater cause. Thanks to him taking on the villain’s role, the soldiers are becoming one."

Ghislain did seem to be enjoying himself lately, but that had to be their imagination. It had to be.

Ghislain himself didn’t mind his rising infamy. He didn’t care about trivial things as long as he achieved his goal.

However, there was someone who did care—a lot.

"—HEY! People are cursing my name! They’re literally hating me right now!"

"……"

That’s right.

It wasn’t Ghislain’s name being cursed.

Publicly, he was still using the name Astion.

And now, Astion was the one being damned by every soldier in the camp.

Ghislain responded with a solemn expression.

"It’s fine. I can endure all the hatred. Unifying the army is more important."

"—YOU’RE NOT THE ONE BEING HATED! I AM! You’re just going to leave in the end! That means my name is the only one that’ll be remembered!"

"……"

"—Wait, wait… Don’t tell me… Did you plan this from the start because you knew I’d take the blame—?!"

"It’s a misunderstanding. I would never do something like that."

"—LIKE HELL IT IS! The outcome is exactly the same, isn’t it?!"

"……If only the two of us suffer, everyone else can be happy."

"—YOU MEAN I SUFFER! What about my future?! I want to be a hero! I want people to respect me! But if I build up nothing but infamy now, how the hell am I supposed to fix it later?!"

"Your reputation…"

Ghislain let out a deep sigh.

Astion did have a point.

But in the end, wasn’t he the one actually taking all the blame right now?

It was a little disheartening that Astion couldn’t understand the great sacrifice he was making.

So Ghislain decided.

He would enlighten Astion.

"I told you I came from the future, right?"

"—Yeah… I still don’t fully believe it, though."

"I know exactly what happens to you in the future."

"—Really? So I do end up saving the world and becoming a legendary hero, right?!"

Astion asked with an eager heart. He had asked Ghislain about the future countless times, but Ghislain had never given him a straight answer.

Ghislain took a deep breath and spoke.

"Listen carefully. In the future…"

"—In the future…?"

Astion held his breath.

"You become a shut-in."

"—……"

"No one even remembers you."

"—……"

"You hide your magic tower somewhere in the countryside. Even the name of your tower is fake. From what I gathered, you must’ve committed some pretty serious crimes."

"—……"

Astion was struck completely speechless.

His legendary future had just been shattered before his eyes.