The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 274

Chapter 274: “I’ll Buy Us Some Time.” (1)

‘…. Got hit hard this time.’

Hearing the news that Count Desmond was on his way, Ghislain fell into deep thought.

Harold was moving faster than expected. Ghislain had considered the possibility, but this speed was beyond imagination.

‘Too many things have changed.’

Using knowledge of the future, he had acted faster than anyone and secured many advantages.

The Royal Faction, which should have already crumbled, still stood strong. Even Ferdium, which was supposed to have fallen, remained intact.

The benefits gained from new technologies were just a bonus.

All of this had been possible thanks to the knowledge he had stolen from the future.

And now, the price for changing the future was coming for him.

“Young Lord! Count Desmond must have gone mad! Raising an army on his own when this isn’t even a civil war!”

Claude shouted, his face pale. Until now, Fenris Estate had always engaged in warfare by completing preparations early and striking the enemy with surprise.

Even if it wasn’t evident during preparation, the results always made it clear that the board had been set in their favor.

But for the first time, the enemy had attacked before preparations were complete. The situation had completely reversed.

Ghislain asked calmly, showing no hint of emotion.

“How many of the new bows have been produced?”

At this question, Galbarik’s face twisted in discomfort.

“Only… a little over half have been completed.”

The new bows incorporated cutting-edge technology. They weren’t something that could be made on a whim. Each bow required meticulous craftsmanship to finish.

Nodding, Ghislain continued.

“How short are we on equipping the soldiers?”

Claude, wearing an expression similar to Galbarik’s, answered hesitantly.

“Not even half of them are equipped.”

Nearly 10,000 soldiers had been recruited, but there hadn’t been enough time to outfit them all in full Galvaniium armor.

Even with the increased production speed, the quantity needed was overwhelming.

Now, the retainers truly understood why their lord always urged haste. With preparations incomplete, their confidence began to waver.

The retainers grew restless, their anxious chatter filling the great hall.

“The soldiers aren’t adequately trained! And their numbers don’t even compare!”

“The Second Legion might hold them off temporarily, but during that time, we need to negotiate or find a way to stall!”

“Let’s immediately ask the Royal Faction to mediate!”

Most of their troops were trainees, and the Galvaniium armor wasn’t yet fully distributed. The gap in troop numbers was so vast that even a defensive stand offered no guarantee of success. Even if they managed to hold off the attack, the losses would be devastating.

Amid the commotion, a messenger rushed in and shouted urgently.

“The Second Legion has been annihilated!”

The retainers’ faces turned deathly pale. The Royal Faction had been their last hope, and now even that was gone.

“He really has gone mad.”

Someone muttered. Only a madman would act this recklessly.

Count Desmond’s obsessive determination to crush Fenris Estate was palpable.

That realization quickly turned into terror. No matter how extraordinary their lord was, this time it seemed impossible to resolve the situation.

Ghislain’s expression hardened as well. While his retainers were terrified, his thoughts diverged slightly from theirs.

‘He wasn’t someone who acted so recklessly.’

The Harold he knew from his past life wasn’t like this. Back then, Harold had been meticulous, focusing solely on carrying out the orders of the Ducal family, always cautious and attentive to his surroundings.

When Ghislain first heard that Harold was gathering troops, he had considered various scenarios. Based on Harold’s temperament as observed in his previous life, Ghislain had expected him to act during a civil war.

This behavior was entirely unlike Harold.

‘I did take into account the possibility of him moving independently, but…’

This was why he had kept himself busy, constantly on the move.

Harold had merely acted sooner than Ghislain anticipated.

‘He’s thrown everything away.’

Even for Desmond, one of the great estates, mobilizing 30,000 troops was no easy feat. Providing supplies to feed them was equally challenging.

Ignoring the Ducal family and the Royal Faction’s ties meant Harold was ready to discard his own life. In other words, Harold had started this war, risking everything to kill Ghislain.

Someone who fights to protect what they hold dear is strong, but someone who has thrown everything away is terrifying.

‘Just like I was in my past life.’

Fenris, still unprepared, found it nearly impossible to handle Desmond.

‘I’ve been complacent. Without realizing it, I’ve placed too much trust in the information from my past life.’

Ghislain let out a self-deprecating laugh. Relying too heavily on his knowledge of the future was a problem, but pushing Harold into a corner had also contributed significantly to this situation.

The enemy was a thinking, feeling human. When cornered, it was only natural for him to lash out unpredictably.

Even with the advantage of regression, it wasn’t an all-powerful solution. The more Ghislain altered the future, the greater the ensuing uncertainty became.

Perhaps irritated by the retainers’ anxiety, Belinda stepped forward and shouted.

“Young Lord! Let me go! I’ll assassinate Count Desmond! That’ll throw their forces into chaos, and we’ll have enough time to prepare!”

“No. You won’t succeed.”

“I can do it!”

Despite her insistence, Ghislain refused. Then, Vanessa spoke up.

“Young Lord! We can’t afford to lose this place. Let me hold them off somehow!”

Alfoi tried to stop her by grabbing her sleeve, but she shook him off and continued resolutely.

“We’ve worked so hard to develop this land! If we all put our lives on the line, we can hold them off! Why is everyone so silent? We’ve always won, haven’t we? We can win again! Let’s set traps or something! I’ll attack relentlessly with magic if I have to!”

Despite Vanessa’s outburst, the others turned their eyes away, saying nothing. They understood her determination, but it was reckless stubbornness.

The reports estimated 30,000 soldiers, accompanied by eight siege towers and twelve catapults.

Moreover, Count Desmond’s court mage was a 6th-circle magician, backed by dozens of lower-circle mages.

Even if Vanessa unleashed her formidable firepower, their opponents could nullify her attacks.

‘If both sides neutralize each other’s magic, what remains is a battle of soldiers.’

‘They say Desmond has over a hundred knights. Real knights, not half-trained ones like ours.’

‘Desmond’s troops are elite soldiers. Our soldiers are strong too, but the numerical difference is overwhelming.’

Fenris’s well-equipped troops numbered only 4,000. While not a small force, it paled in comparison to the enemy.

Ghislain closed his eyes, sinking into thought. Facing them head-on now was too dangerous.

‘We could defend, but the soldiers’ training and equipment are sorely lacking. The losses would be enormous.’

He never entertained the thought of losing. But even if they won, heavy losses would render victory meaningless.

Ghislain wasn’t just fighting the Ducal family; there were greater powers lurking behind them.

‘Winning this battle alone won’t mean anything to me.’

Even if he defeated Desmond, it wouldn’t be the end. Before long, another war would arise.

That’s why preparation had to be swift yet thorough. Minimizing losses was essential to continue fighting the enemies ahead.

‘If only I had a little more time…’

With support from his father and the Marquis of Branford, it wouldn’t have been difficult to bolster his forces. While their reinforcements arrived, the new bows could have been nearly completed.

But now, there wasn’t even enough time for that. Waiting for reinforcements while defending the estate would cost them most of the forces they had built up.

Count Desmond had chosen the perfect moment to strike, bringing an overwhelming army to boot.

‘I have no choice. This time, I’ll have to retreat and reorganize.’

Having reached a decision, Ghislain opened his eyes and declared.

“Move all supplies and troops to the old Fenris region.”

At his words, the retainers all bowed their heads. Moving to the Fenris region meant abandoning the Cabaldi area.

The regret was palpable. Everyone felt the same.

‘What a waste. We worked so hard to develop this estate.’

‘But we can’t help it. We can’t handle an army of 30,000 just yet.’

‘We’ll have to plan for the future.’

Though they sighed with relief, they were also somewhat reassured. If their lord had stubbornly insisted on fighting with untrained soldiers, it would have been disastrous.

Unaware of Ghislain’s regression, they merely misunderstood him as a stubborn and reckless lord.

Ghislain had never acted recklessly. Every decision he made was rooted in considerations of efficiency and timing.

It was his unwavering confidence in success that allowed him to take risks and reap rewards.

Someone like that wouldn’t willingly accept a war that was clearly going to result in heavy losses.

“I’ll establish a defensive line centered around Fenris Castle. Once we’ve completed the rest of our preparations and regrouped, we’ll retake the Cabaldi region.”

Claude nodded, visibly relieved.

“The castle has been fortified in preparation for war. It should hold.”

“Good. Destroy any critical facilities and relocate everything as quickly as possible. Also, send word to Gillian and Kaor to return immediately.”

The Cabaldi region had developed immensely compared to before, even overflowing with iron ore.

Perhaps Count Desmond would be satisfied with occupying Cabaldi. Even if he wasn’t, fully subjugating the region would still take time.

‘Enjoy your moment while you can.’

Though the loss was bitter, now was the time to retreat. Once preparations were complete, they could devise a counterattack and seize the right opportunity.

It wouldn’t be easy to face a stronger Desmond, bolstered by the Cabaldi region’s resources, but Ghislain had no choice.

Following Ghislain’s orders, the retainers began moving swiftly. Calming the terrified citizens of the estate was also a critical task.

Ghislain himself traveled across the land, reassuring the people.

“Do not worry! Count Desmond will not harm you. I swear to return!”

The estate’s growth required a stable population. Harold wasn’t a fool; he wouldn’t resort to massacres.

With the Second Legion annihilated, no army was left to hinder Desmond’s advance. Even though his forces moved slowly, they would arrive soon enough, given the short distance.

Shortly after, numerous recruits and supplies arrived at the castle. Gillian had sent troops he had been training in the southern region upon hearing the news.

When informed of this, Ghislain tilted his head and asked.

“Where’s Gillian?”

Neither Gillian, nor the 100 knights, nor the 1,000 soldiers dispatched to the fortress had returned.

Claude awkwardly handed over a letter.

As Ghislain read it, his face darkened.

Letter from Gillian

[ My Lord, I understand your decision to retreat, given that we are not fully prepared. However, abandoning this place now could make recovery and retaliation an impossibly long process. Please, do not give up this territory. You said we would win once the new bows and the soldiers’ equipment were ready. I will stake my life to buy you that time. I still remember your words…
‘I will break the cycle of poverty in this estate. Not just a drop of water, but a downpour.’

You achieved what everyone said was impossible, my Lord. And I know this place is crucial for fighting even stronger enemies in the future. So, please do not abandon it. My knights and I will hold them off as long as we can. Do not stop preparing—ensure our victory. Then… you will not just be rain; you will become a storm that sweeps across the North. ]

—

“Gillian…”

Ghislain’s expression grew somber. Gillian was prepared to sacrifice his life for Ghislain’s dream.

As the mood turned heavy, Claude handed him another letter.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from the knights stationed with him.”

Ghislain unfolded the letter to find brief messages from the 100 knights addressed to him.

—

[ Did our stubborn lord get cold feet?” ]
[ Don’t worry, we’ll hold the line. ]
[ Serves you right, always showing off. ]
[ Why were you always so hard on me? ]
[ Damn, I wish I could’ve seen the boss’ flustered face one last time.]

—

It was full of boasts and curses—exactly what one would expect from former mercenaries. Knowing they faced death, they had taken the opportunity to say whatever they wanted.

Despite the curses written in the letters, Ghislain bursted out laughing.

Throwing his head back, he laughed for a long while before abruptly stopping and murmuring to himself.

“Well, life does throw unexpected curveballs sometimes. A plan is just a plan, after all.”

No plan could ever be perfect. Adapting to changing circumstances was part of the process. What mattered was achieving the right outcome.

“…You’re not seriously thinking of something crazy, are you?” Claude asked nervously.

Ignoring him, Ghislain continued speaking.

“To be honest, retreating doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve been too considerate. I wasn’t like this when I fought against the kingdom.”

His offhand remarks left Claude and the other retainers visibly uneasy, but Ghislain paid them no mind and pressed on.

“Continue training the soldiers.”

“What?”

“Keep producing the new bows and Galvaniium equipment. Mobilize everyone in the estate to speed up the work.”

“My Lord! You know there’s no chance of victory if we face them head-on! That’s why you decided to retreat in the first place!”

“I’m not entertaining objections. Trust Gillian and the knights. We will finish our preparations as quickly as possible—and then we’ll go and rescue them.”

Clutching the crumpled letter in his hand, Ghislain smiled fiercely.

“Harold Desmond will die in this war.”