The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 696

Looking at the stunned Astion, Ghislain spoke with a bitter tone.

"It’s unfortunate, but that’s reality. So don’t get too obsessed with fame. Ha, it’s all so meaningless in the end."

— Y-you’re lying, right?

"I don’t lie."

Ghislain might act recklessly or unpredictably at times, but he had never been one to lie. Even so, Astion didn’t want to believe it.

— But I’ll reach the 9th Circle! I’ll save the world with my friends! Why would someone like that have to live in hiding?

“I don’t know the reason myself. But the fact remains—I did.”

Maybe it was because of the infamy he was building up right now. But there was no reason to mention a theory that put him in a bad light. There could be other reasons too.

Astion’s voice trembled as he asked:

— S-so… does that mean I live alone? Do I end up like you, unable to date anyone?

Ghislain looked at him with a mix of sympathy and firmness.

“You won’t.”

— ……

— And your tower’s successors… they aren’t dating either. Who knows what’ll happen in the future, but for now, that’s just how it is.

— ……

Dark suddenly cut in.

— Yeah! Your tower’s successor is kind of a mess!

— A mess?

— Yeah! Just like you!

To Dark, with his simple way of thinking, it was obvious why that person seemed lost. But since Astion had no idea what his successor was like, he took Dark’s words at face value.

As if he couldn’t accept it, he suddenly looked determined.

— D-don’t be ridiculous. My tower’s disciples won’t be clueless! I’ll make sure they’re seen as holy and only recruit smart ones. I’ll train them properly!

— But a clueless one shows up!

— Sh-shut up! I won’t pick someone like that!

— It’s not up to you!

— Shut uuuup!

Caught up in the shock of his future, Astion completely forgot about the infamy he was earning right now. He just kept bickering with Dark.

Exhausted from using up all his mental energy, Astion soon fell asleep, unable to even get his point across.

With Astion so easily dealt with, Ghislain resumed the hellish training.

There was no need to torment the captive mages. They weren’t truly loyal followers anyway.

Fearful that they might be dragged into the training, the mages were obediently keeping their heads down. Given that Ghislain’s territory originally had almost no mages, that much was enough.

The mercenaries from Nodehill laughed as they watched the brutal training. To them, it was someone else’s problem.

“Hah, he really got screwed over big time.”

“Our vice commander’s got a nasty temper.”

“Well, isn’t that how you become a legend?”

The former bandit mercenaries sympathized even more with the soldiers cursing Ghislain. Unlike the others, they were practically frozen in fear, convinced they’d be next.

Ghislain turned toward the laughing mercenaries.

“Now, you’re all joining the training too.”

“…W-why?”

“You’re too weak. Take this chance to strengthen your mental fortitude.”

“……”

Just hearing that was horrifying. Watching hellish training was entertaining—but participating in it? That was a different story.

One of the mercenaries spoke up, his voice trembling.

“Mental fortitude… isn’t that something you’re just born with? I mean, I’m a man, but I’ve got a weak heart… If I get too stressed, I might just die…”

“You can fix that with training.”

And so, the mercenaries were thrown into the hellish training as well. No one was exempt.

“Uwaaaah! Why do I have to go through this?!”

“We’re mercenaries! Aren’t we just supposed to fight for money and call it a day?”

“I-I’m a man, but this is too much! I’m gonna die!”

At this point, origins and status no longer mattered. Only those hardened through training would survive.

Sensing the moment was right, Ghislain gathered everyone and made an announcement.

“I’m adding a new training regimen.”

Knights, soldiers, and mercenaries all gritted their teeth and glared at him. If looks could kill, Ghislain would have died several times over.

They were seething with resentment, and Ghislain liked what he saw.

The more they directed their hatred toward him, the stronger their bonds with each other would become.

This level of simple training was enough. Now, it was time to push them further and deepen their teamwork.

“Starting today, I’ll form teams. Each team will take turns attacking me! This is practical combat training.”

Building up their resentment wasn’t enough. He had to give them an outlet for it.

Everyone frowned. What was the point of attacking that monster? Their strikes wouldn’t even land.

Ghislain was aware of their thoughts, so he added a condition.

“I’ll suppress my mana and won’t use magic. Attack me as much as you like. Oh, and knights—you’re banned from using mana too.”

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes lit up.

If he wasn’t using mana, then overwhelming him with numbers might actually work.

From that day on, the assigned squads engaged in full-contact combat with Ghislain. Each squad had a hundred members.

Fueled by the hellish training, they were brimming with rage, determined to beat Ghislain to a pulp.

“Get him!”

“We’ll have our revenge!”

“You damn—oof! I’ll kill youuuuuu!”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Ghislain swung a wooden club wrapped in cloth, knocking them all down.

Even without mana, his techniques were at their peak. He moved in perfect harmony with the world itself.

Like the wind, he flowed effortlessly through their attacks—no one could land a hit.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Gaaaah! Damn you, Astion!”

“Astion! You bastard!”

“ASTION! YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Every time Ghislain’s wooden club struck them, they cursed and fell. But strangely, he didn’t feel like he was being insulted at all.

Maybe it was because he was truly participating in this training… or at least, that was what he told himself.

As he continued the cooperative training, Ghislain found himself admiring its effects.

“This is working remarkably well.”

Regardless of their origins, everyone was working together, discussing strategies, and coming up with tactics—focusing solely on how to land a hit on him.

As they struggled toward a common goal, it was only natural that bonds would form between them.

Of course, in the end, they still got beaten up by Ghislain. But for him, lightly running around and swinging a club was also an excellent way to relieve stress.

Whenever they were exhausted, Andrew and Leo made sure to provide drinks and meat, letting them rest. Their roles were distributed perfectly.

By now, he could probably end the training, but Ghislain didn’t stop.

Not until everything was taken care of.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Die, you bastard! Astion, you XXXX!”

“ASTION! I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU!”

“You XXXX! Astion, you XXXXXXX!”

Whenever they engaged in combat training with Ghislain, they would always scream similar curses. But Ghislain only laughed heartily, accepting their rage without hesitation.

Because this…

This was his way of showing consideration, as someone who was already used to playing the villain.

“Yeah! I’m Astion! Come at me!”

And so, as the hellish training intensified, Astion’s infamy spread even further.

***

Meanwhile

As Andrew and Leo had predicted, Count Swipel and his retainers were struggling to come up with a way to take down Julien’s Mercenary Corps.

“What about poison?”

“That won’t be easy. Someone at that level wouldn’t succumb to poison so easily. And even if they did, they could suppress it and escape.”

“If we poison their entire group, wouldn’t that give us a chance to hunt them down?”

“If they hide themselves before getting caught, that won’t be possible. And if they manage to recover before we strike, they’ll definitely come back for revenge. Besides, Baron Nodehill and Baron Raks wouldn’t skip poison inspections.”

No matter how small their territories were, both barons were still lords. Their attendants would never allow food to go untested.

“Then what if we hide knights and ambush them? We invite only the high-ranking members of the mercenary corps to a banquet.”

“That… would also be difficult.”

“Why? Can’t we take them down even if we have all our knights?”

That was obvious.

Ambush or not, they had skilled individuals on their side. What kind of knight squad could capture them with sheer numbers alone?

Still, the retainers tried to phrase their response diplomatically.

“Even without that mage, the senior members of the mercenary corps are at least high-ranking combatants. Even in a fair fight, we can’t guarantee victory.”

“Hmm…”

“Besides… they’re mercenaries. If things go south, they won’t fight to the death, will they? The moment they’re ambushed, they’ll retreat. And why would they even agree to a banquet just for their leaders?”

“Grrr…”

“If you’re going to invite them, you have to invite the entire group. But there’s no way they wouldn’t bring their forces. The moment things get noisy, their troops will mobilize.”

“Urgh…”

“If we want to succeed before their forces react, we need to take them down instantly. But… our knights aren’t capable of that yet.”

At those words, even the knights standing nearby looked uneasy.

The mere fact that a handful of enemy officers were considered stronger than their entire order was incredibly demoralizing.

Of course, they couldn’t openly voice their frustrations. The enemy’s known strength alone was already overwhelming.

Tyron’s abilities were said to rival Swipel’s own Knight Commander. And there were several others at his level—or stronger.

Not to mention…

One of them was rumored to be superhuman.

So instead of loudly protesting, the knights just grimaced in frustration.

Count Swipel, growing more and more irritated, finally snapped.

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do?! Just sit back and hand over our land? We don’t even have enough money right now! Are you telling me we have to sell off the land we struggled so hard to obtain?”

In truth, Count Swipel had not struggled at all.

If anything, he should have been grateful that he had escaped Count Crest’s downfall.

But, as expected of nobles, his selfish way of thinking remained unchanged.

“Think of a way! We need a plan!”

His frustration boiled over. The idea that a noble like him couldn’t deal with mere mercenaries made him furious.

One of his retainers, who had been silently listening, finally spoke up.

“There… may be a way.”

“What is it?”

“We could ask Marquis Falkenheim for help.”

“What? What?!”

Count Swipel was so shocked that his jaw dropped.

Until now, he had been fighting against Marquis Falkenheim. That battle had ended with Count Crest’s destruction.

He was in a position where he should be afraid of Falkenheim’s retaliation.

And yet, now he was being told to ask for his help?

Sensing Swipel’s hesitation, the retainer quickly continued.

“The only reason we weren’t able to join Marquis Falkenheim’s faction was because of Count Crest’s greed. But now that Crest is gone, there’s nothing stopping us.”

“Oh…”

To be precise, the real problem had been that Count Swipel didn’t want to serve under anyone.

After Count Crest’s downfall, however, he had started reconsidering.

He had tried to form an alliance, but Count Crest had gotten in the way.

“If we approach Marquis Falkenheim now, he will have no choice but to retaliate. We simply need to shift the blame onto Julien’s Mercenary Corps and Barons Nodehill and Raks.”

“Hmm… go on.”

“That mercenary scum did come here and threaten us. If we frame them properly, we can give Falkenheim a reason to attack. We just need to offer him a small piece of land as a pledge of loyalty.”

“Hmm…”

“Marquis Falkenheim commands some of the strongest knights. If we receive their support and eliminate Julien’s top officers, we can easily take Nodehill and Raks with our own forces.”

Count Swipel nodded.

He didn’t care much about Nodehill, but the gold mines of Raks were extremely tempting.

If he offered Falkenheim half of Crest’s former land and agreed to pay more taxes, there was no way the marquis would refuse.

Sure, it hurt to give up land, but if this worked, he would eliminate Julien’s Mercenary Corps and claim Raks’s gold mines in one move.

And the best part?

He could avoid retaliation from Falkenheim altogether.

It was the best possible option for Swipel.

His mind made up, he issued his order.

“Good. Send envoys to Marquis Falkenheim. Tell him I am swearing my loyalty.”

Count Swipel smiled wickedly.

In this era, loyalty was meaningless.

Everyone knew that.

Even Falkenheim did.

But for now, he would play along. Because it was in his best interest too.

And so, Count Swipel prepared lavish gifts for Marquis Falkenheim.

Among them, hidden carefully, was a disgustingly vile proposal, sealed within a letter written in Swipel’s own hand.