The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 295

Chapter 295: Not Yet the Right Time. (1)

Amelia wore a chilling smile. She finally had the chance to deal a proper blow to that irritating brat.

It was a situation where Ghislain would do all the work, but she would reap the rewards.

“Now, it’s my turn to stab you in the back, Ghislain.”

If she needed justification, she could fabricate plenty. After all, her alliance with Desmond, though nominal, was still valid.

The Royal Faction wouldn’t move to attack her immediately, and with skillful negotiation, she could easily claim half of Desmond’s territory.

Of course, she had no intention of relinquishing even an inch, let alone half.

‘The ducal family will have no choice but to support me’, she thought.

The calculations in her head were already complete.

The ducal family, having lost Harold, would have no choice but to choose her as their foothold for expanding into the North. Even if territorial disputes arose, they would actively mediate on her behalf.

“Advance at full speed, just in case. We must secure the key castles and fortresses before anyone else.”

She had eliminated every threat targeting her. Ghislain and Harold would have just finished their battle.

With no obstacles to hinder their advance, Amelia confidently pushed her forces to move faster.

Fenris’ forces and even Raypold’s troops were exhausted from continuous combat. No matter how elite they were, accumulated fatigue was unavoidable.

As the night deepened, Bernarf cautiously spoke up.

“I think we need to rest for a while. Traveling at night isn’t easy, and the soldiers are very fatigued.”

“Tch.”

Amelia clicked her tongue in annoyance but reluctantly nodded.

With nearly 5,000 troops moving together, it was inevitable that their pace would be limited.

“This will be the last rest we take. There will be no more breaks until Desmond is occupied. At dawn, send the cavalry and knights ahead. The infantry will follow behind.”

“Understood.”

Torches were set up at intervals, and preparations for camp were quickly completed. It wasn’t an active war zone, and there weren’t any immediate threats, so they maintained a level of vigilance similar to peacetime.

While everyone hurriedly fell asleep, bracing for the grueling march ahead, Amelia couldn’t rest.

Inside the largest and most ornate tent, she busied herself reviewing a map, meticulously planning her next steps.

“Bernarf, with our current forces, it’ll be impossible to quickly occupy all of Desmond’s territory. So, we’ll prioritize blocking key routes and… Bernarf? Are you listening?”

Annoyed by the silence, Amelia turned her head.

“…”

Bernarf was slumped in a chair, nodding off. Despite being assigned as her guard and strategist, he had fallen asleep faster than anyone else.

Amelia glared at him with irritation but chose not to wake him. Bernarf had been through a lot recently, dealing with rebellions and internal strife.

Bastet, curled up on her lap, had also fallen asleep long ago.

Sigh…

Shaking her head, Amelia refocused on the map. She pondered what she could extract from the ducal family and how best to secure control of the North.

“Ghislain is difficult to deal with right now. But if the ducal family starts a war soon…”

As she concentrated solely on the map in front of her—

Tsst, tsst, tsst.

Behind her, shadows began to coalesce subtly and quietly.

The space distorted, and a faint figure resembling a human emerged. However, Amelia remained oblivious to the phenomenon.

Suddenly, Bastet’s ears twitched.

Although Bernarf was still slumped over, his left thumb instinctively nudged the guard of the sword sheathed at his waist.

Click.

At the sound of the blade shifting in its scabbard—

Meow!

Bastet let out a sharp cry.

In the same instant, Bernarf’s right hand moved like lightning, drawing his sword and intercepting an attack aimed at Amelia’s back.

Clang!

The metallic clash echoed loudly. Amelia finally turned her head, only to discover an assassin standing behind her.

Wiping the drool from his mouth with his left hand, Bernarf glared sharply at the intruder.

“Damn it. Who the hell are you?”

The assassin was cloaked in a black robe and mask, concealing their entire body. After having their dagger blocked, they retreated a few steps and muttered softly.

“Hmm, as expected, it was too much.”

Amelia frowned. The voice sounded vaguely familiar—a woman’s voice.

In that moment, the assassin’s robe fluttered, unleashing a barrage of daggers.

Ka-ka-ka-ka-kang!

Bernarf’s sword moved with lightning speed, deflecting every dagger. As soon as he neutralized the attack, he lunged forward and slashed downward with his blade.

Skkktt!

Though his sword didn’t reach the assassin, slicing through empty air, the sheer force of his strike grazed the assassin’s mask, cutting through it.

Half of the mask fell away, revealing a face adorned with a seductive smile.

The assassin looked at Bernarf and spoke.

“Oh my… You’re much more capable than I expected.”

Bernarf was about to retort, but Amelia spoke first.

“You!”

“It’s been a while, my lady.”

The assassin, smiling brightly and waving her hand, was none other than Belinda.

Amelia recognized Belinda immediately—and not without reason. She bore a grudge against her. Amelia still hadn’t forgotten the time when Belinda had arrogantly pressed a dagger to her throat.

But knowing the assassin’s identity only deepened her confusion. Why was one of Ghislain’s closest confidantes here?

“Why… have you appeared here?” Amelia demanded.

“Well, naturally, I came to kill you, my lady. I’ve been waiting here this whole time.”

“You came to assassinate me? While Ghislain is fighting Harold, he left you to deal with me?”

“The young master specifically ordered me to slow you down. I wanted to take part in the war too, but he insisted, over and over, that I come here instead. What choice did I have? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you?”

Belinda spoke with a tone of mock disappointment.

She had been sent by Ghislain to disrupt Amelia’s advance.

At first, Belinda had opposed the order. Facing Desmond’s 30,000-strong army was no easy feat, and she thought her place was by Ghislain’s side, contributing however she could. She had argued as much.

But Ghislain had insisted. Belinda’s skills as an assassin were not suited for large-scale battles. It would be far more effective to deploy her where her abilities could truly shine.

It was a logical argument, and Belinda, unable to refute it, followed his orders.

She had been anxious about the unfolding battle ever since, unsure of the outcome. But Amelia’s appearance relieved her concerns.

The movement of Raypold’s forces was proof enough: Ghislain had won.

Amelia gritted her teeth, glaring at Belinda. Hearing such unexpected news left her dizzy.

“Ghislain… that bastard… He anticipated that I would make a move? And he sent you ahead even with the war against Harold looming?”

“I’m telling you, it’s true. Isn’t it fascinating? How could he have known?”

Belinda’s confident reply sent a shock through Amelia. It didn’t make sense.

Before Ghislain had even faced Harold, Amelia had been fighting Baron Valois and the Northern Allied Forces.

How could he have foreseen that she would defeat them all and mobilize as soon as news of his victory reached her?

Predicting her every move required a complete understanding of her character. No, it went beyond that—it was as if he could read her mind.

Memories of Ghislain’s prior feats flashed through Amelia’s mind.

Securing the Runestone, predicting the drought, inventing groundbreaking technologies, uncovering her rebellion, and preemptively rescuing Daven.

‘It was as if…that bastard can see the future.’

His actions brought to mind the rare prophets that occasionally emerged on the continent.

But even that explanation seemed implausible. No matter how skilled a prophet was, their visions were abstract and vague. This level of precision was unheard of.

‘How… How is this possible?’

A chill ran down Amelia’s spine. Whether or not Ghislain had prophetic abilities, he was undoubtedly operating outside the realm of ordinary genius.

He knew something—something that allowed him to observe the movements of others as if looking down from a great height.

It felt as though her every move was under surveillance.

‘He must die!’

Instinctively, Amelia felt an acute sense of danger. She had to kill Ghislain. If she didn’t, she would remain a mere pawn in the game he was orchestrating.

But first, there was someone else who needed to die.

“I remember saying that your head would be mine one day. Those fools failed back then. I should have killed Ghislain no matter what.”

“Oh, that time? You must have been quite disappointed, my lady.”

“Yes, I was. Extremely disappointed. But I never expected you’d come to me on your own. Are you here to settle old scores? Did you really think you could assassinate me?”

Belinda shrugged and laughed.

“Well, the young master said it was impossible, and I see why now—you have such a splendid guard by your side. When I heard the rumors, I thought he was just a fool.”

Bernarf was about to snap again, but Amelia spoke faster this time.

“Since you failed the assassination, it looks like it’s impossible for you to slow me down. What can a mere maid like you accomplish on her own?”

“Oh my, so confident, aren’t you? You didn’t even know I was coming.”

“And did you succeed in killing me?”

“It’s not over yet, you know?”

The two women stared at each other with smiles on their faces. Their expressions betrayed none of the malice radiating between them.

The intense atmosphere caused Bernarf to hesitate, momentarily forgetting to attack Belinda as he nervously observed the tension. He was clearly uncomfortable with this sort of standoff.

“Kill her, Bernarf.”

“Meow!”

The moment Amelia and Bastet gave their commands, Bernarf swung his sword at Belinda.

Clang!

Belinda parried the attack with her dagger.

Bernarf swung his sword again, a flurry of strikes flashing in all directions in an instant.

But none of them landed. At most, a few slashes nicked the edges of her robe.

The more he swung, the more Bernarf’s expression darkened.

‘What kind of movements are these…?’

It felt as though he were fighting a ghost. Every time Belinda moved, the space around her seemed to distort, making it difficult to sense her presence.

And that wasn’t the only challenge.

Pah-pah-pah!

Each time her robe fluttered in the warped space, dozens of daggers flew out.

‘Damn it!’

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Bernarf quickly stepped back, deflecting the daggers. But the daggers connected to Belinda seemed alive, persistently targeting Amelia.

It wasn’t easy to protect someone while fighting an elite assassin. Bernarf glanced toward the entrance of the tent.

By now, the commotion should have drawn soldiers inside. Yet, there was no sign of them.

‘Are they already dead?’

Typically, knights guarded Amelia, forming an impenetrable defense around her. However, for this mission, the knights had been replaced by regular soldiers.

With Belinda’s skill level, she could easily kill a few soldiers without leaving a trace. Of all times, an assassin had struck during the knights’ scheduled rest.

It was Bernarf’s fault—his oversight as captain of the guard had placed Amelia in grave danger.

‘I just need to hold out a little longer.’

Bernarf, wearing an unusually serious expression, focused entirely on protecting Amelia. The knights’ tents weren’t far; they should be able to sense the disturbance and rush to their aid any moment.

Clang!

Belinda, meanwhile, realized that killing Amelia wasn’t going to be easy.

‘I didn’t expect this fool to be so skilled. I thought I’d catch him off guard in the open field.’

Bernarf was widely regarded as a dimwitted lackey who followed Amelia around. Never in her wildest dreams had Belinda expected him to be this competent.

Even while shielding Amelia, Bernarf seized every opportunity to close the gap and swing his sword. Belinda had narrowly avoided danger more than once.

What impressed her even more was Amelia’s composure.

Even when daggers flew mere inches from her face, Amelia didn’t flinch. She simply glared at Belinda, as if she were intent on killing her with her gaze alone.

Belinda inwardly clicked her tongue in amazement.

‘Wow, she’s no ordinary woman.’

Despite not being able to wield mana or a sword, Amelia exuded unshakable resolve.

She was terrifying in a way entirely different from Ghislain.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The movements of Belinda and Bernarf grew so fast they became nearly invisible. Dozens of daggers danced in the air, and the clashing sword blades sparked like fireworks.

Despite the countless exchanges of attacks and defenses, only a short amount of time had passed.

Slash!

Suddenly, the tent was torn apart as a dozen knights stormed in.

“My lady!”

“Are you hurt?”

“Kill the assassin!”

The knights immediately drew their swords and charged at Belinda.

“Tch.”

Clinging to an unwinnable fight was not the mark of a skilled assassin. With a wry smile, Belinda leaped back.

“As expected, I’ve failed. But… I didn’t come alone.”

Fwoooosh!

Before Belinda finished speaking, fires erupted throughout the camp.

Simultaneously, cries echoed from all directions.

“Enemies!”

“Assassins have infiltrated the camp!”

“Wake up!”

Ghislain’s covert force, secretly trained alongside Belinda, had launched their attack.

Ferdium’s assassination squad was striking Raypold army camp.