The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 284

Chapter 284: I Didn’t Come Alone (2)

Desmond’s pursuit team was flustered. They had been on the verge of eliminating the pests who had troubled them, but suddenly, new enemies appeared.

The fallen Fenris knights were just as bewildered.

“The Lord… has come?”

“Could it be that preparations are already complete?”

“Haha… hahaha! It’s the Lord! The Lord is here!”

They didn’t fully understand what was happening, but laughter escaped from their lips. They had thought their deaths were certain, yet here, the timing was nothing short of miraculous!

It was something they felt time and time again—no one could predict the Lord’s movements.

It wasn’t just the Fenris knights. Even the fallen soldiers began chuckling to themselves.

“We’re saved…”

“The Lord has come…”

“If it’s the Lord, he can wipe out all these bastards…”

Such was their absolute faith in Ghislain.

When it came to war, Ghislain inspired an unshakable trust in them, regardless of any other shortcomings.

“These damn bastards…”

The soldiers of Desmond’s forces glared menacingly at the fallen Fenris soldiers.

It was infuriating to see them boasting just because a bit of reinforcement had arrived. The arrogance of men who were about to die was deeply displeasing.

“Before that, you will all die first. And then, so will those reinforcements.”

A soldier from Desmond’s army used his spear to remove the helmet of a fallen Fenris knight.

There was no need to aim elsewhere; a quick thrust to the exposed face would be enough.

As the helmet came off, the knights, their faces bloodied, continued to smile.

“Ha… You think scum like you, not even part of the main force, can kill our Lord?”

Desmond’s soldiers’ lips twitched in irritation. Their mocking words were unbearable.

Intent on finishing the job before reinforcements arrived, the soldiers raised their spears high.

Thud!

“Guh…”

Before they could strike, an arrow flew through the air, piercing a soldier’s neck.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Other soldiers, who had also been preparing to thrust their spears, began collapsing one by one as arrows struck them down.

“What the hell is going on?!”

One of Desmond’s soldiers turned his head in panic, spotting a group of figures approaching at an alarming speed.

At the forefront of the charge was the one the Fenris soldiers revered as their “Lord,” with around 300 black-armored individuals following in his wake.

Each one carried a bow.

“Damn it! Retreat! Form ranks!”

They were too fast. With every blink of an eye, they closed the distance rapidly.

There wasn’t enough time to kill the remaining Fenris soldiers. They had to regroup and form a defensive formation to handle the unexpected attackers.

As expected of well-trained elites, Desmond’s forces quickly reorganized. Yet, Baron Hutton wasn’t about to retreat just yet.

‘I’ll kill this one first.’

If Gillian fell, the morale of the enemy troops would crumble. Pulling out the arrow embedded in his chest, Hutton picked up a sword lying on the ground.

“Die!”

Swoosh!

Clang!

As he rushed toward Gillian, another arrow flew his way. Though he managed to deflect it this time, the force behind it made his sword-hand tremble.

“Damn… Such power in an arrow…”

The strength imbued in the arrow was extraordinary. If he hadn’t focused mana into his sword, the blade might have shattered.

‘Did Fenris have such a powerful warrior besides Gillian?’

Hutton glanced toward the archer, who grinned fiercely as if filled with a savage madness. His speed was terrifying. Killing Gillian now was no longer an option.

‘Let’s see if the rumors hold true.’

Flash!

Riding a black steed, Ghislain surged past Gillian and closed in on Baron Hutton.

In the blink of an eye, Ghislain thrust his spear forward.

“Hup!”

Hutton crouched low to dodge the attack, swinging his sword at the horse’s legs in an attempt to bring Ghislain down.

The timing was perfect—just as the horse would land after leaping. There was no way the strike could miss.

Flash!

However, just as its hooves touched the ground, the Black King, the steed Ghislain rode, flexed its powerful thigh muscles and leaped again. Hutton’s expression twisted in disbelief.

‘What kind of horse is this…?’

A mere horse had evaded his sword? Even if an exceptionally skilled rider was atop it, his timing had been impeccable. It defied reason.

Startled, but not wasting time, Hutton rolled forward after realizing his attack had failed. However, Ghislain didn’t let his momentary hesitation go to waste and swung his spear.

Slash!

“Argh!”

Hutton let out a muffled groan as the spear sliced across his back. Although it wasn’t a critical wound, it was still painful.

“Impressive.”

Ghislain turned the Black King to face Baron Hutton, staring him down.

To evade the spear twice—this man was undoubtedly a skilled knight who had reached the upper ranks.

The Black King snorted, baring its gums as if mocking both individuals for their failed attacks. However, when Ghislain clicked his tongue and pressed on its flank, the steed promptly shut its mouth in discomfort.

In the meantime, the knights following Ghislain arrived, quickly forming a line to shield their fallen allies. Behind them, the rest of the reinforcements began to pour in.

Ghislain turned to look back, his expression laced with concern as he asked, “Gillian! Are you okay? You’re okay, right?”

“Lord…”

Gillian’s face was filled with emotion. He had truly believed his life was at its end, yet Ghislain had appeared in the nick of time.

Then, a sudden thought struck Gillian, prompting him to urgently speak. “Lord! You must retreat for now! This is—”

“Let’s tend to your wounds first and save the reunion for later!”

“No, that’s not what I mean—”

“Hey, what are you all doing? Move! Get Gillian and the wounded out of here!”

Ghislain’s interruptions kept Gillian from saying what he wanted. Just as he was about to try again, “Gordon the Muscle” interjected, supporting him and cutting him off once more.

“Ah, Instructor, look at you! You’ve lost weight. Must’ve been through a lot, huh? This’ll mess with your gains…”

“Gordon! Wait! I need to—”

“I’ll get you eating lots of chicken breasts, don’t worry. Now, let’s move along.”

“You—! Ugh!”

Dragged away by Gordon’s brutish strength, Gillian let out a pained groan as his wounds reopened.

Taking advantage of the chaos as the Fenris reinforcements focused on evacuating the wounded, Baron Hutton swiftly retreated. His expression was filled with unease.

‘They’re fast!’

The reinforcements had arrived far sooner than he’d expected. Their horsemanship was exceptional.

After taking a few steadying breaths, Baron Hutton retrieved a potion from his belt and poured it over his chest and back.

‘He’s skilled, I’ll give him that.’

Ghislain’s mana that struck him through a spear still lingered in his body, rampaging and making it difficult for his wounds to heal.

It took two bottles of potion and his own mana to suppress Ghislain’s mana and finally closed the external wounds. However, the internal injuries were far from healed; he would need at least a few days of rest to recover fully.

The sheer impact of the mana proved how formidable Ghislain was.

‘He’s undoubtedly a high-level warrior. Could he be at the same level as Gillian? Tch, if I weren’t injured, a brat like him would be no match for me.’

Even now, Baron Hutton didn’t consider the possibility of losing. The earlier attack had simply caught him off guard. If he focused, he was confident that no “youngster” could defeat him.

There was one thing he and Gillian had that Ghislain lacked, experience.

Hutton glared at Ghislain and asked, “Are you the Count of Fenris?”

“That’s right. I’m the Count of Fenris,” Ghislain replied coolly.

Hutton twisted his lips into a crooked grin. “You’ve made a foolish mistake.”

“A foolish mistake?”

“You should have stayed holed up in your castle. What possessed you to come out here?”

Regaining his composure during their conversation, Baron Hutton’s lips curled into a faint smile.

‘If I kill him, this war is over.’

That thought filled him with confidence. If he could take Ghislain’s life here, he would emerge as the hero of this campaign, achieving victory with minimal losses.

‘Attack him now? No… better to bide my time.’

Just as he was about to order his soldiers to advance, a new idea struck him. Smirking, he pointed his sword forward with an arrogant expression.

“You’ve reached an impressive level for someone so young. I’ll grant you that. But your confidence as a count seems a bit… excessive.”

“My confidence? Excessive?” Ghislain asked, his tone flat.

“Yes. I understand you’re skilled, but for a lord to stand so boldly at the front lines… That’s a recipe for death. I can’t help but wonder who your instructor was. Tsk, tsk.”

Ghislain raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Why is it typical of nobles and knights to start lecturing him at first sight.

Bringing up an instructor was clearly meant to undermine him, suggesting he was nothing more than a novice—a child pretending to be a lord. It was an insult.

‘If Belinda heard this, she’d lose her temper, yelling, “How dare you criticize someone else’s teaching methods!” Guess he’s lucky that she’s not here.’

Dismounting, Ghislain unsheathed his sword. “Looks like we’ll have to see who’s really fearless.”

“Still brimming with confidence, I see. Ah, the privilege of youth. But where there is confidence, there are bound to be shortcomings.”

“Me? Shortcomings? What would that be?”

“Experience and age.”

“…”

Baron Hutton smirked as he continued speaking to the silent Ghislain.

“Battles aren’t won with strength alone. If two combatants are evenly matched, the one with more real-world experience will emerge victorious.”

“……”

“While I’d prefer to offer my humble teachings to the young Count, if you lack confidence, we could fight army against army.”

Hutton’s arrogant words elicited a quiet chuckle from Ghislain. On the battlefield, there were usually reasons why someone talked so much.

Either they were someone like Claude, who couldn’t stop chattering even during battle.

Or they were deliberately stalling for time.

Or, perhaps…

‘He wants to minimize his losses while securing glory.’

In territorial wars, the death of the lord marked the end of the conflict. And now, a young, inexperienced lord had stepped forward right in front of him.

If Hutton could kill this upstart in a one-on-one duel, he could preserve his forces and secure a reputation as the man who dealt with the notorious troublemaker of the North.

To Baron Hutton, it must have seemed like treasure had rolled into his lap. That explained his excessive words and attempts to provoke Ghislain.

Unaware that his intentions were so transparent, Hutton continued to smirk mockingly at Ghislain.

‘Impulsive and reckless, they said. No noble could possibly endure such taunts.’

He was confident of his victory.

Even though he was injured, Hutton believed his age and experience gave him an edge over a brash young count. Everything he’d heard about Ghislain reinforced this belief.

He prided himself on his composure, claiming it was unparalleled in the North. Without interference, he was certain he would not lose to someone like Ghislain.

Composure, after all, was a skill that could only be honed over time, regardless of one’s level of mastery.

“Shall we? A knightly duel is the true romance of the battlefield. If you’re too scared, feel free to run.”

Ghislain nodded, accepting Hutton’s provocation. “Fine, I’ll accept. You’re an amusing guy.”

It seemed like Hutton had put a lot of effort into crafting his taunts, attempting to appear clever. But Ghislain had already planned to kill him anyway. Reducing his own army’s casualties and lifting their morale in the process? There was no reason to refuse.

“You don’t need to talk so much. Just say you want to fight, and I’m always happy to oblige. Come on.”

Ghislain raised his sword, beckoning Hutton forward. In an instant, the baron’s demeanor shifted.

The haughty, lecturing noble disappeared, replaced by the razor-sharp presence of a well-honed blade.

“Oh?”

Ghislain raised an eyebrow in mild admiration. This man wasn’t all talk.

‘Baron Hutton… He is a notable figure. It seems he gave Gillian quite a bit of trouble.’

This was Ghislain’s first time seeing him in person. Not just in his current life, but even in his previous one. In that life, Baron Hutton had been ensnared in one of Amelia’s schemes to weaken Harold’s faction, branded a traitor, and driven to suicide.

Still, his name had been well-known across the North, even back then.

Ghislain smiled as he adjusted his stance. At the same time, both armies began to pull back slightly.

It was customary to create distance when commanders dueled. This was both to reduce the risk of soldiers getting caught in the fight and to prevent interference when one side was in danger.

Baron Hutton, assuming his stance, fixed a sharp gaze on Ghislain and spoke.

“Count of Fenris… Did you know this?”

“Know what?”

“I’ve fought in five knightly duels since my youth. I’ve won every single one and am still standing here today.”

The outcome of a knightly duel often decided the war itself. In other words, Baron Hutton had personally carried his territory through five such wars, emerging victorious each time.

Although these wars were likely small skirmishes rather than major conflicts, the responsibility of carrying an entire territory’s fate on one’s shoulders was no trivial matter.

“Young Count, you couldn’t possibly understand yet how terrifying this position is.”

That was the source of Hutton’s confidence. He believed that no matter how skilled Ghislain was, the young lord had never fought under such immense pressure before.

With each passing moment, Ghislain would falter, crushed by the weight of responsibility. His inexperience would make him lose his composure.

‘A brat like him isn’t ready for this.’

Hutton smiled smugly at the thought.

But Ghislain chuckled and replied, “I’ve done it more than a hundred times.”

“What?”

Before Hutton could process the absurdity of the statement, Ghislain’s eyes glowed crimson.

“Let’s begin.”

Boom!

Ghislain surged forward with the speed of lightning, swinging his sword at Baron Hutton.