The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 259

Chapter 259: Fighting for Real Today? (2)

Doncard stumbled backward, clutching his nose in shock.

He had seen the attack coming and prepared to counter with a punch, but his opponent vanished from his sight in an instant.

By the time he turned his head in surprise, a heavy impact landed, and blood spurted from his nose.

“What the…? Did his skills suddenly improve? Enough that I couldn’t even track his movements?”

This made no sense. It felt as though he was fighting a phantom.

He chalked it up to coincidence and closed in again, but each time, Kaor evaded him with uncanny precision and launched a counterattack.

Whenever Doncard tried to dodge, Kaor predicted his movements and struck as though reading his mind.

Soon enough, Doncard found himself preoccupied solely with defending or evading.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Kaor was irritated but couldn’t deny a strange thrill coursing through him.

“Damn it, that lord of his really is a monster.”

Following Ghislain’s advice made his opponent’s attacks seem to miss him automatically. Each time, Kaor’s counters landed, almost as if he had known where Doncard would dodge beforehand.

The flawless timing was nothing short of incredible.

But more than admiration, Kaor began to feel something else the more he moved.

“Wait… I already know all of this. I trained this stuff into my body like a fool, and now I’m just realizing it?”

The opponent’s movements during attacks, whether they’d counter or not, and the correct responses—all of it was knowledge Kaor already had.

The longer the fight went on, the more his body seemed to instinctively remember what it had learned.

Just as it had been when fighting Count Cabaldi’s knights, once Kaor settled into the flow, it became much easier to utilize what he’d practiced.

Ghislain’s guidance came in a constant stream.

— “That guy’s panicking now. His moves will get sloppier; that’s what happens with people who’ve only trained reactively. He’s below your level now, so just fight as I taught you. Normally, this should come out naturally, but since it doesn’t, you’ll have to consciously think it through.”

“Tch, I know that already.”

Kaor felt his irritation spike at Ghislain’s condescending tone.

It was clear where the fault lay: lack of proper training. He should have practiced relentlessly until the moves became second nature.

Instead, Kaor had taken shortcuts, stopping his training as soon as things felt “good enough,” always seeking the fastest way to grow stronger. Otherwise, he drowned his frustrations in alcohol and complaints.

When it came to real combat, it was no wonder he couldn’t fully utilize his skills.

Thud! Thud!

Kaor smirked. His body felt almost weightless.

Doncard’s attacks couldn’t touch him, while his strikes landed perfectly on Doncard.

This kind of selfish, one-sided fight was exactly to his liking.

But Doncard wasn’t someone to be underestimated. Gritting his teeth, he quickly collected himself and launched a fierce counterattack.

Thud! Thud!

“Guh!”

“Ugh!”

Both men landed simultaneous hits to each other’s faces and stumbled backward. Kaor’s skills hadn’t yet become entirely ingrained in his body, leading to occasional mistimed attacks or awkward movements.

At some point, Ghislain had gone quiet, leaving Kaor to fight on his own.

Still, Kaor, now regaining his confidence and composure, focused entirely on his opponent and pressed the attack.

Onlookers began to murmur as the evenly matched fight unfolded.

“Wow, they’re suddenly going toe-to-toe.”

“What happened? Was he hiding his real skill all along?”

“Maybe he was just testing the waters earlier?”

Excitement grew among the spectators, their faces lighting up with intrigue.

This was what made a fight entertaining. Watching one-sided domination might be satisfying in its own way, but it lacked thrill.

Now reinvigorated, the crowd cheered wildly. For those who hunted monsters for a living, there was no way they’d dislike a good brawl.

“Hell yeah! The redhead’s killing it!”

“Take Doncard down!”

“Or better yet, why don’t you both just kill each other!”

There were plenty of people harboring grudges against Doncard. They had tolerated him only because of his power, seeing him as a necessary evil.

Because of that, some sincerely rooted for Kaor. But for the majority of the hunters, it didn’t matter who won. They disliked both men equally.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The blows exchanged became more brutal. As Kaor’s confidence surged, his attacks grew fiercer.

Gritting his teeth, Doncard absorbed the barrage and cursed under his breath.

“Damn it… Why the hell is this guy suddenly so strong…?”

Kaor’s momentum was only increasing.

If Doncard lost, he’d have no choice but to leave the area. Establishing himself elsewhere and building his influence to this level again would take an unimaginable amount of time and effort.

Worse, it was uncertain whether he’d even get the chance to leave. Once word got out that someone new had bested him, the others wouldn’t sit idly by.

“If that’s the case… there’s no other choice but to spill real blood…”

Swish.

Doncard staggered back, pretending to steady himself, while stealthily pulling a small blade from his waist.

Hiding the blade between his clenched fingers, he flashed a sly grin.

This wasn’t his first time using such a trick; he had killed many stronger opponents this way. Betting, honor—none of that mattered. Once someone was dead, cleanup could always be handled afterward.

“Didn’t think I’d meet someone worth using this on after all this time…”

He expected to face some backlash, but his reputation was already tarnished. People knew him as “The Beast of Ironcliff.”

While they addressed him as a king to his face, behind his back, they mocked him as a beast.

No one noticed the blade Doncard had drawn. That was his skill; people only discovered he had used a weapon after his opponent was already dead.

Of course, Ghislain, watching the fight with a bemused expression, saw it all clearly.

Once ready, Doncard subtly waved his hand a few times, signaling his subordinates behind him.

“Be prepared.”

The signal was an order: if Doncard killed Kaor, the others were to attack immediately.

Although he had agreed to a one-on-one duel to avoid unnecessary losses, losing and leaving this place was a far worse outcome. Even if some damage was done, it was better to wipe out everyone here and secure his position.

“This guy’s the strongest one. After him, the rest will be easier to deal with.”

Thud!

Doncard deliberately closed the gap, allowing Kaor’s punch to land. Reducing the impact by staying close, he gritted his teeth and endured.

Then, putting all his strength into his strike, he drove his fist into Kaor’s stomach.

Squish!

“Huh?”

Kaor’s face contorted in shock. Something sharp had pierced his abdomen—the sound wasn’t normal.

In that moment of hesitation, Doncard aimed his fist at Kaor’s neck.

Slash!

“Urgh!”

Kaor barely avoided the blow, but his neck was grazed, leaving a long cut that began to bleed.

Reeling from the sudden pain, Kaor clutched his neck and stomach, quickly retreating backward.

When he looked at his bloodied hands, he realized it.

“A blade… he had a hidden blade?”

Kaor’s incredulous gaze shifted to Ghislain. There was no way that monstrous lord hadn’t noticed this.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kaor asked, glaring.

“In life, every fight is real,” Ghislain replied. “If you get cocky just because you’re good with your fists, that’s what happens. You’re not going to die from this, so I let it slide. Maybe this will knock some sense into you. Honestly, you fight like crap.”

“…”

Kaor was annoyed, but he knew Ghislain was right. If the blade had been coated with poison or slightly larger, he might have been killed.

The spectators, too, didn’t seem fazed. They watched with expressions that suggested this was nothing out of the ordinary.

The hidden blade didn’t bother them—if it wasn’t obvious to the eye, it didn’t count.

“You bastard!” Kaor cursed, shouting at Doncard. “You’re worse than Alfoi or Kkoko!”

Kaor didn’t waste time calling him cowardly or despicable. He didn’t believe there was room for such concepts in a fight.

This was, after all, a lawless land. Expecting fair play here was a joke, as he’d learned the hard way after being beaten by Ghislain during his early days.

If his opponent fought dirty, Kaor was more than ready to respond in kind. He had plenty of experience in these kinds of brawls.

Whoosh!

Kaor swung a punch, which Doncard dodged with a smug grin. As Doncard closed in with his blade-hidden fist, Kaor smirked.

“Try this on for size.”

Fwoosh!

“Argh!”

A sudden burst of red powder exploded into Doncard’s face, forcing him to close his eyes and stumble backward.

“You bastard! What did you throw?!”

Panic set in, fearing it might be poison, but it wasn’t. Instead, his eyes stung fiercely, and tears poured down, blinding him.

Doncard hastily tried to shield his eyes with mana, but the powder had already gotten in, causing unbearable pain.

Kaor grinned, his voice filled with mockery.

“Oops, looks like my delicious seasoning pouch accidentally burst. Honest mistake, I swear.”

The “seasoning” was none other than the Spicy Attack Seasoning Powder that Belinda had prepared for him.

― “You’re always so angry. You need to eat spicy food and blow off steam.”

― “What is this?”

― “It’s Spicy Attack Seasoning Powder. If things go south in a fight, just throw it in their face. You’re not that good at fighting, anyway.”

― “I’m good at fighting! I don’t need this crap.”

Despite his protests, Kaor had kept the pouch, figuring he might want something spicy to snack on later. Now, it had come in handy, tucked into a small pouch on his belt and deployed with perfect timing.

Doncard swung his fists wildly, unable to properly open his eyes. Amidst his flailing, the blade in his fist jutted out, clearly visible to all.

“Oh? This bastard pulled out a knife? You all saw it, right? He pulled it out first.”

Kaor smirked and drew a dagger from behind his back, throwing it in an instant.

Thwack!

“Ugh!”

The dagger embedded itself straight into Doncard’s chest. Despite this, Doncard continued to swing his blade haphazardly as he staggered backward.

Under quieter circumstances, he might have detected the attack and dodged. But amidst the crowd’s jeers and cheers, avoiding such strikes was nearly impossible.

He tried to pull the dagger out of his chest, but Kaor was quicker.

Thrust!

“Gahhh!”

Kaor swiftly drew an awl hidden in his boot and stabbed Doncard in the stomach. If there was anything more underhanded than Doncard, it was Kaor himself.

Thrust! Thrust!

Kaor stabbed Doncard’s abdomen repeatedly.

Although Doncard swung his bladed fist around wildly, Kaor easily dodged and continued his assault.

Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!

“Argh! Guhhh!”

Before long, Kaor targeted Doncard indiscriminately—his neck, chest, abdomen, arms, and legs—leaving no part unscathed. Doncard’s body was soon covered in blood, with stab wounds everywhere.

“S-stop…”

If this went on, death was certain. Tears streamed from Doncard’s eyes as he opened them at last, the pain unbearable.

What kind of seasoning made the pain this excruciating? Through his blurry vision, Doncard saw Kaor’s face. For the first time in his life, he felt true terror at the prospect of death.

‘This bastard… is smiling…’

Kaor’s eyes were half-rolled back, his lips curled in a grin wide enough to show his teeth. He looked like a mad dog.

“I-I surrender…”

“Surrender? I’ve never been one to accept that. Our lord doesn’t forgive easily, so why should I?”

Thrust! Thrust!

Ignoring Doncard’s words, Kaor grabbed him by the collar and stabbed him again and again.

It felt cathartic. The stress Kaor had accumulated over time finally seemed to dissipate.

Just as Belinda had said, “Spicy seasoning” was the best remedy for stress relief.

Thud.

After stabbing to his heart’s content, Kaor released Doncard’s collar, and the man collapsed to the ground.

“Ugh… cough…”

Doncard, drenched in blood, crawled across the floor and shouted desperately.

“Kill… kill these bastards! Now!”

But none of his subordinates moved. They only looked down at him coldly.

In this place, the logic of power was absolute. A man on the brink of death, who had lost after drawing his weapon first, was no longer worth listening to.

“Go on, hurry! Kill them before it’s too—”

Grab.

Kaor mounted Doncard’s crawling body and grabbed his neck and head.

“Just die, you bastard. Don’t make it any more embarrassing.”

Crack!

With a twist of his hands, Kaor snapped Doncard’s neck. The man’s tongue lolled out as his life ended.

“Hah…”

Kaor exhaled deeply, stood up, and roared.

“You all saw that, right? You damn bastards! If you fight me, I’ll win every time! I’m the strongest! Anyone who insulted me earlier, step forward now!”

Even though his victory declaration was childish, the crowd still erupted in cheers.

“Wow! The red-haired bastard won!”

“He actually beat Doncard? That’s impressive!”

“Guess he really is good at hunting monsters. He’s no ordinary guy!”

Energized by the crowd’s cheers, Kaor basked in the attention despite his bleeding wounds.

After a while, the crowd parted, and Turian’s knights and soldiers approached.

A knight from Turian clicked his tongue as he looked at Doncard’s corpse, neck twisted.

Placing a hand on the hilt of his sword, the knight spoke with a tone of irritation.

“Killing is prohibited here, and you commit murder as soon as you arrive? This is problematic…”

Although his words sounded disapproving, his expression was indifferent, as if he didn’t actually care. Yet, with so many witnesses, he couldn’t simply ignore the incident.

“Tsk, tsk. If you’re going to kill someone, do it secretly. Why not take it to some corner instead of putting on a spectacle? Hey, arrest him.”

As the knight gestured to the soldiers behind him, Kaor growled.

“What the hell? Can’t you see me bleeding? That bastard pulled his weapon first!”

The nearby hunters immediately spoke in Kaor’s defense.

“Hey, it’s true! Doncard drew his weapon first. You know how these fights go, right?”

“Since when did you care so much? Go back to filing paperwork or something.”

“It’s self-defense! Isn’t this place supposed to be free from interference?”

The knight remained unfazed. Having spent a long time in such a place, he had grown immune to such protests.

It was then that Ghislain casually put an arm around the knight’s shoulders and whispered.

“Causing dissatisfaction among hunters over something like this would be a bigger issue. Remember, the law here was made to prevent hunters from being dragged off to execution by nobles or criminals. Arresting the man who beat Doncard would only be a loss.”

The knight clicked his tongue a few times before nodding. Ghislain had a point. If even the hunters acknowledged the outcome, there was no need to press the matter further.

“I’ll consider it an accident during a duel. Be more careful in the future. And with Doncard gone, keep the fights in check unless you want to end up monster food.”

With that, the knight and the soldiers left.

As the crowd cheered, Kaor staggered back to the inn.

Frankly, he was so exhausted he wanted to collapse and sleep.

Ghislain patted Kaor’s shoulder lightly and praised him.

“Well, you finally put up a real fight today. You struggled at first, but still.”

“…I’m always good at this.”

“Anyway, good work. That guy seemed to be the leader around here. With him gone, things should be much easier. Let’s get some rest for now.”

“Ha, good. Then we’ll head out hunting tomorrow after I rest for a day.”

“No, we won’t. Hunting was supposed to end today.”

“Why?”

Kaor and the knights looked at Ghislain with puzzled expressions.

After days of relentless hunting and training, his sudden decision to take a break seemed out of character. He wasn’t the type to show concern for Kaor’s injuries.

Their suspicions were correct. Ghislain smirked.

“A monster wave is about to begin.”