The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 273

Chapter 273: He’s Already Made a Move? (3)

“I refuse.”

At Ghislain’s firm words, the envoys looked flustered.

“Why is that? Do you still think Raypold is the land where Desmond and the strongest in the North competed for dominance? That’s a grave misconception.”

“Why?”

“First of all, the usurper Amelia is a woman. She has no experience governing a territory, let alone any military experience. Wasn’t she just a young lady who knew how to gracefully hold a teacup? Even her rebellion succeeded merely by the luck of ambushing a banquet.”

“Hmm…”

“Just look at how she’s handling the battle with Baron Valois. It’s been months now, and she still hasn’t managed to capture the castle, despite having five times the forces.”

At that comment, Ghislain smirked faintly.

Baron Valois was a brilliant strategist. On top of that, Amelia had been taking a passive approach, so it was only natural for the war to drag on.

If they had given the situation even a modicum of thought, they wouldn’t have spoken such nonsense.

Mistaking Ghislain’s smirk as a sign that his words were persuasive, the envoy eagerly continued to explain.

“We were an allied domain of Count Raypold. The rightful heir, Fourth Prince Daven, is still alive, so the cause is clear. If we attack, Baron Valois will also respond from his castle.”

“And that will secure victory?”

“Of course! How could a mere woman who can’t even handle Baron Valois stand against our united forces? This is the perfect chance—why not lend us a hand?”

Ghislain waved dismissively, as if annoyed.

“No. I’m not interested. Do it yourselves.”

“The legitimate heir of Raypold is still alive. Allowing a usurper to go unchallenged sets a dangerous precedent. Besides, in the North, there has long been a tradition of not recognizing women as lords. What’s happening now is an outrageous deviation from our customs.”

The coalition of lords forming against Raypold had various reasons for their actions.

First and foremost, they believed that allowing a rebel to go unpunished would set a bad precedent. It was necessary to demonstrate that other lords would unite to crush a usurper. That way, they could prevent similar uprisings within their own territories.

The fact that Amelia was a woman also rankled the northern lords.

In the harsh and rugged North, it was always a strong man who led and governed. Their lives were rooted in such traditions and customs, and now a woman had become a lord—through rebellion, no less.

They couldn’t ignore such a development, which might influence others. Small, seemingly insignificant changes like this could eventually shift public opinion.

The lords, ever keen to preserve their power, couldn’t overlook such a threat.

While these reasons mattered, the most important factor lay elsewhere.

“Raypold is a vast and fertile land. If we help the Fourth Prince Daven, we could gain a portion of the territory as compensation, as per custom.”

This was the real reason. They sought to take advantage of the chaos in Raypold and carve it up among themselves. Their disdain for Amelia only made their decision easier.

After listening to their fervent persuasion, Ghislain smiled again.

‘You’re going to kill Amelia? With just the likes of you?’

In Ghislain’s previous life, even the King of Mercenaries couldn’t kill Amelia. If it had been possible, he would have done so the moment he regressed.

Desmond was targeting Ferdium and couldn’t act against her immediately. That was the only reason she was left alone.

She was that dangerous. The idea of these incompetent fools defeating her was laughable.

Besides, Amelia’s ambitions wouldn’t end with merely claiming Raypold’s seat as countess.

Nonetheless… these fools were a necessary part of Ghislain’s strategy for now. To fully exploit Amelia’s ambitions and buy himself time, they had their uses.

“I won’t participate in the war. However, I’ll provide support in another way.”

“And what might that be?”

“You came here for food, didn’t you? I’ll supply the provisions.”

At those words, the envoys beamed with delight.

In truth, they didn’t need the forces of Fenris. They were confident that the combined troops of six territories would easily crush Amelia. Their main concern was securing enough food to sustain the campaign, which was no easy task. They had planned to entice Ghislain with offers of prime land.

However, with Ghislain offering provisions outright, there was no need to share any spoils with him.

‘Heh, the kid’s scared of Raypold’s reputation.’

‘That might’ve been true back when Count Raypold and his heirs were in their prime. But now? What’s so frightening about an army led by a mere woman?’

‘Since Fenris won’t directly participate, we can claim the best lands for ourselves and just give him some token compensation.’

Having secured Ghislain’s promise, the envoys left in high spirits. Their war preparations were almost complete, and they intended to move as soon as they received the provisions.

After sending the envoys away, Ghislain sank into deep thought.

‘I can only hope those fools drag things out as much as possible until my preparations are complete.’

There was no way they would win. Amelia would have anticipated such a situation.

Even in the previous life, while Amelia was engaged in war with Baron Valois, there were attempts to attack her from behind, but none succeeded.

Ghislain could change the outcome if he intervened, but now was not the time to act.

‘Not much longer.’

Because of his actions, events were unfolding faster than they had in the previous timeline. This also meant the civil war was approaching quickly.

The fact that Count Desmond was amassing troops was evidence of this. For this reason, Ghislain couldn’t afford to waste his strength fighting Amelia.

He needed to buy as much time as possible to complete his preparations. Amelia could be dealt with afterward.

‘I need to ensure she can’t pull any tricks for now.’

Amelia was a master of betrayal. That was why Ghislain supported Baron Valois and other territories to hinder her. By tying her down, he hoped to limit her options.

‘Just wait a little longer, Harold.’

The game board was gradually aligning with Ghislain’s plan. All that remained was the inevitable clash with Count Desmond.

‘Because of me, everything in the North is in turmoil. The ducal families and Harold won’t stand by idly.’

When the civil war broke out, Desmond would undoubtedly strike this region first. After all, Ghislain’s forces were now the strongest royalist faction in the North.

There was still a bit of time left. Even in the previous timeline, the ducal families hadn’t initiated a civil war from the North.

Even if a civil war began in the North, the Kingdom’s forces were monitoring Desmond’s estate, ensuring he couldn’t launch a sudden attack.

Ghislain planned to use this brief reprieve to complete all his preparations. If he succeeded, he could crush Desmond the moment the civil war began.

‘When the civil war starts, I’ll kill him first.’

As the thought crossed his mind, Ghislain’s heart began to race.

The ducal families might have sown the seeds, but it was Count Desmond who had directly destroyed Ferdium.

In his previous life, Ghislain had mutilated Desmond’s corpse countless times in a fit of rage—so much so that his subordinates had tried to stop him.

Even though Ferdium’s destruction had been averted this time, his enmity with Count Desmond was inevitable. To unify the North, Desmond had to be eliminated.

‘It won’t be long now. If everything goes as planned, I’ll achieve an overwhelming victory.’

With that resolve, Ghislain focused on war preparations and training his troops.

One day, not long after, while Ghislain was in a meeting with his retainers, a messenger burst into the hall, his voice urgent.

“Count Desmond has mobilized his army! He’s marching toward us!”

Ghislain’s expression hardened. His preparations were not yet complete.

‘He… moved already?’

The ducal families showed no signs of action. Desmond, who had always acted cautiously and followed their orders, was now acting independently.

And this despite the Kingdom’s forces monitoring him closely.

For the first time since his regression, an unexpected event disrupted the board Ghislain had so carefully set.

“Move quickly! Now! There’s word that Count Desmond has mobilized his forces!”

The commander of the Second Legion, Viscount Doren, leaped out of bed upon hearing the news in the dead of night and began relocating his troops.

Their destination was a different choke point from the one where they had intercepted Count Cabaldi’s forces before. They needed to establish a position ahead of Desmond’s forces. That was his mission.

‘Damn it… What’s going on here?’

Viscount Doren struggled to comprehend the situation. There had been no communication, no justification for war.

Count Desmond had unilaterally mobilized his army and was advancing on Fenris.

It was a reckless move, devoid of the dignity expected of a noble.

But precisely because of that, Doren found it all the more terrifying.

The most powerful overlord of the North, shedding his pretense of decorum? It could only mean he was willing to use any means necessary.

Doren turned to his adjutant.

“They said his pace isn’t very fast, right? Is he just making a show of force to intimidate Fenris? That would be ideal.”

“I don’t think it’s just a show of force.”

“Why?”

“His army numbers 30,000. That’s why they’re moving slowly.”

“…Oh.”

Viscount Doren was momentarily stunned. Thirty thousand soldiers? Was that even possible? Even for a grand lord, assembling such a massive force seemed unthinkable.

The sheer number made his knees weaken in disbelief.

Snapping back to his senses, Doren shouted in frustration.

“Damn it! How am I supposed to stop 30,000 soldiers with just the Second Legion?!”

He had no confidence in victory. The Desmond army was known to be among the strongest in the North.

Thanks to the return of soldiers who had been working on road construction, he had a force of 5,000. While this was enough to overwhelm most northern lords, it was nothing compared to 30,000.

“Let’s hope this isn’t as bad as it looks. Maybe he’s just trying to demand something.”

The royalist faction had been ordered to inspect and prepare their troops for a potential civil war. However, there had been no word from any other regions.

This suggested that Count Desmond was acting alone—a possibility Doren clung to for hope.

“He wouldn’t try to fight the entire royalist faction by himself. Even if he takes Fenris, he’d have to give it back once we all mobilize. This must be some kind of misunderstanding, right?”

“…”

Despite Doren’s attempts at optimistic reasoning, his adjutant remained silent. He, too, was utterly clueless about what was happening.

“Ugh, just move faster! Their numbers make them slow. If we hurry, we can block the path ahead. I’ll calm him down over tea or something. Ask him what’s bothering him. Tell him I’m here to listen and will fix whatever’s wrong.”

Even as they marched, Doren kept talking incessantly, a clear sign of his growing anxiety.

The thunderous sound of hoofbeats echoed in the distance, and a sense of foreboding gripped Doren.

“Why does it sound like cavalry charging at full speed?”

The Second Legion consisted of more than half infantry. While they were moving quickly, it wasn’t at a pace that the cavalry would need to sprint to match. The cavalry had been deliberately slowing down to keep pace.

Yet, the sound was unmistakable: horses galloping at full speed.

Doren, a seasoned commander who had risen to lead a royal legion, quickly grasped the situation.

“Ambush! Prepare for combat!”

At his command, the soldiers swiftly transitioned into battle formation. Their rapid response was a testament to the professionalism of the royal army.

The hoofbeats grew louder. But then, the sound came from another direction as well.

“W-what is this…?”

Suddenly, hoofbeats echoed from behind them, indicating a staggered, multi-directional attack.

‘The first wave was meant to force us into formation, while another strikes from the rear…’

The hoofbeats then began echoing from their flanks. Doren’s eyebrows twitched as realization dawned.

Traveling under the cover of night had prevented them from properly surveying their surroundings. The enemy had exploited this vulnerability masterfully.

Doren acted quickly, issuing countermeasures.

“Extinguish the fires! Plunge the area into darkness and force a chaotic melee!”

All lights were extinguished, plunging the area into darkness. While the first charge would inevitably hit them, the cavalry would lose their bearings after that and be drawn into disorganized combat.

It was their only option.

“Damn it… why is the moon so bright tonight?”

Unfortunately, Doren’s luck had run out. The moonlight was unusually bright, illuminating the battlefield. Worse still, it seemed the enemy had predicted his response.

Fwoosh!

Suddenly, countless flames erupted from one direction, lighting up the area. Nearly a thousand torches flared to life.

Seeing this, Doren muttered in despair.

“So, they had another ambush lying in wait…”

The enemy was serious. They intended to wipe out the royal army and then march on Fenris.

Whoosh!

A barrage of flaming arrows rained down on the royal troops.

As the fiery lights filled the sky, Doren murmured.

“Count Desmond… he’s gone mad.”

His words were cut short as the arrows descended mercilessly.

Thud-thud-thud!

“Aaargh!”

Caught off guard, the soldiers of the Second Legion fell helplessly. They had been on the move and were completely unprepared to defend against such a sudden, overwhelming attack.

No one had anticipated that Desmond would launch such a reckless assault without formal notice.

He was essentially waging war against the entire royalist faction alone—something no one in the kingdom would dare. The only conclusion was that Count Desmond had lost his sanity.

Fires began to spread, illuminating the chaos as the thunder of hoofbeats intensified.

Desmond’s cavalry charged into the disarrayed ranks of the Second Legion from all directions.

Boom!

“Aaargh!”

“Reform the ranks! Quickly!”

“Draw them into close combat!”

The officers shouted desperately, but it was futile. Desmond’s army, one of the strongest in the North, overwhelmed the Second Legion with ease.

Viscount Doren had no choice but to admit the truth.

“Incredible… so this is Desmond’s army.”

They had predicted the royal troops’ movements and prepared accordingly. The main force was still advancing slowly toward Fenris, maintaining appearances. Meanwhile, the cavalry had broken off, circling around to launch a perfectly timed ambush.

There was only one commander in Desmond’s forces capable of such tactical brilliance—a man renowned in the North for his mastery of maneuver warfare.

“Emerson.”

The same man who had previously failed to support Cabaldi due to Doren blocking the path. Now, he was exacting his revenge.

Emerson grinned wickedly as he charged toward Doren, his face like that of a devil.

“Viscount Doren!”

Hearing Emerson’s shout, Doren sighed and raised his sword. He knew he wouldn’t survive the night.

His fate was already sealed.

But…

“What about my daughter’s academy tuition…?”

That was the only lingering worry on his mind.