The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 296

Chapter 296 – Not Yet the Right Time. (2)

When Belinda launched her attack, not everyone was asleep like Bernarf.

Amelia’s strategist, Conrad, the head of the Actium Merchant Guild, was also staying up late, busy reviewing and organizing various matters.

Adjusting his monocle, he muttered to himself while flipping through documents.

“It’s fortunate that the lady stocked up on food supplies. I thought we’d incur significant losses, but who would’ve guessed things would turn out so favorably?”

A satisfied smile spread across Conrad’s face.

The woman he served, Amelia, was truly extraordinary. Not only was her knowledge vast, but her strategies and social skills were refined to a degree that even men of high standing found themselves astonished.

That wasn’t all. Amelia possessed an extraordinary intuition. Occasionally, her instinctive decisions would yield unforeseen results, as if guided by a sixth sense.

The bulk purchase of food during the last drought was one such example.

However, Conrad’s smile soon faded. His hand moved to the rapier hanging from his waist as his expression hardened.

“Hm…”

It felt as if something was crawling on the back of his neck—a sensation of unease. But it wasn’t an actual insect causing it.

It was bloodlust.

Clang!

His rapier flashed like lightning, stabbing into a corner of the tent. At the same time, a figure darted out from the shadows within the tent.

“Tsk.”

Conrad clicked his tongue. He had aimed for the face, but the intruder narrowly dodged the attack. However, they hadn’t escaped unscathed—the blade had grazed their mask, revealing their cheek, where blood trickled down.

Conrad tilted his head slightly as he stared at the assassin’s now-exposed face. It seemed familiar.

After briefly searching his memory, a sardonic smile appeared on his lips.

“You… aren’t you one of the ‘Bribe King’s’ guards?”

The assassin targeting Conrad was none other than Wendy, who had previously served as Claude’s guard.

Due to the nature of the current mission, she had been compelled to join the operation.

Conrad recognized her from the time she had accompanied Fenris as their representative during their first transaction.

Maintaining his mocking smile, Conrad continued speaking.

“Does this mean that Count Fenris has decided to make us his enemies as well?”

Wendy, still expressionless, replied curtly.

“I was never here. Please refrain from acknowledging me later.”

With that, she hurled a series of daggers toward him.

Swish, swish, swish!

Conrad easily dodged the flying daggers and retaliated with a thrust of his rapier. However, Wendy seemed uninterested in engaging further, retreating as she retrieved something from her pouch.

Click.

The sound of metal clinking together was followed by a burst of sparks. Realizing her intent, Conrad’s expression darkened.

Wendy pulled out an oil-soaked cloth, lit it on fire, and flung it at the pile of documents.

Fwoosh!

Conrad quickly unleashed mana through his rapier, wrapping the cloth around the blade and extinguishing the flames. But Wendy had not thrown just one.

She hurled fire to various parts of the tent and then swiftly slipped outside. Soon, flames erupted across the Raypold Army’s encampment.

“Damn it! What the hell is this? Who are these bastards?!”

Vulcan stormed out of his tent, swinging his club angrily and yelling at the top of his lungs. Caleb stomped on a masked corpse, his teeth clenched in frustration.

As the leader of the Wildcat Smuggling Gang, Caleb was also an assassin. To be ambushed by assassins himself was a significant blow to his pride.

Vulcan and Caleb easily dispatched the assassins targeting them, but not everyone in the camp was as skilled as they were.

Several officers of the Raypold Army were caught off guard and killed, plunging the camp into chaos.

“The commander of the 4th Infantry Company has been killed!”

“Catch them! What are you all doing?!”

“They’ve disappeared! The enemy’s gone!”

The unexpected attack left the camp in complete disarray. Despite their efforts to capture the assassins, Belinda and her group had already escaped.

As Belinda fled, she glanced back at the Raypold Army’s encampment with a look of regret.

“It’s not as easy as I thought.”

Just as Ghislain had warned, they had prioritized speed over maintaining vigilance. Even so, the results had not been as devastating as she had hoped.

To make matters worse, several of the assassins she had brought along had been killed. Clicking her tongue in frustration, Belinda muttered to herself.

“They were hard-earned assets…”

Both Ghislain and Belinda had been steadily training assassins over the years. They had carefully selected individuals with talent, raising them in secret while disguising them as ordinary workers within the estate.

The true identities of these assassins were known only to Ghislain’s closest confidants.

Of course, the most elite among them were those like Wendy, whom Belinda had personally trained for years.

“When we return, I’ll need to train more recruits.”

The territory’s full support ensured that their individual capabilities were not lacking, but their numbers were still far too insufficient.

This was especially evident during operations like the current one, where they faced high-level opponents. Lower-ranked assassins were not only incapable of succeeding in their missions but often failed even to escape properly.

Still, they set fires in various locations, causing chaos. While the intended objective was achieved, it would only buy them a little time.

After the assassins had fled, Amelia, unable to contain her boiling rage as she surveyed the campsite, let out a furious scream.

“Ghislain! Ghislain! Ghislain! That bastard dares to—!”

Flames shot up in all directions, and horses ran wild. The sudden attack had turned the entire campsite into a chaotic mess.

Once again, she had fallen victim to Ghislain. And once again, in a manner she had never even anticipated. It was absolutely infuriating.

Amelia took deep breaths as her eyes swept across the campsite once more. People were scurrying about in all directions.

“Put out the fires, now!”

“Check the headcount again!”

“Find out where the breach occurred!”

The soldiers, too, were in complete disarray. Still, some had managed to arm themselves quickly and were standing guard, scanning their surroundings.

After a while, a knight approached Amelia and bowed his head.

She glanced at the knight and asked curtly, “What’s the damage?”

“The casualties are not severe. However… a few of the company commanders have been killed.”

The knight reported the situation. While the number of dead soldiers was minimal, the damage went beyond that.

Knights were not the only valuable assets. Competent commanders could sometimes be harder to replace than knights.

Several mid-level officers, personally selected by Amelia, had died. It would take a significant amount of time to recover from this loss.

The knight’s report didn’t end there.

“They released the horses, scattered poison in the vicinity, and set fires. Many of our horses either fled or died as a result. The poison has since been purified by the mages, and efforts are underway to retrieve the escaped horses.”

Horses were essential for increasing marching speed. It was clear their primary goal had been to slow down Raypold’s army.

Closing her eyes, Amelia took a deep breath before asking again,

“How did they even get in?”

No matter how focused they were on speed, they hadn’t neglected their vigilance. The Raypold army was strict in discipline, and Amelia, in particular, emphasized maintaining tight security, ensuring that no one took their duties lightly.

In addition to the soldiers, highly skilled knights and mages were also stationed on rotating watch duty.

Moreover, the army consisted of a full 5,000 troops. No matter how skilled the assassins were, it made no sense for them to evade the eyes of all these people.

Not all the assassins were particularly skilled either. Many of them had died, unable even to escape.

The knight hesitated briefly before continuing his report.

“There was… a tunnel.”

“A tunnel? They dug a tunnel knowing where we would camp?”

“It’s not that large. It’s more akin to a hiding pit. They likely dug several and observed our movements, choosing a nearby location to hide. We’ve discovered a few pits outside the campsite as well.”

“Go on.”

“By chance, some of the soldiers’ tents were directly over the pits. A few assassins infiltrated through those spots to set fires first, followed by the others emerging later. The timing of their attacks was staggered.”

The knight of Raypold swiftly pieced together the situation and reported it.

As he explained, Belinda, having anticipated Raypold’s movements, had been closely monitoring them all along.

This was how she had prepared pits near the campsite in advance and stationed her assassins there.

The most essential trait for an assassin was patience. It wasn’t difficult for them to endure cramped and uncomfortable conditions for several days.

This was a basic skill taught to all assassins during their training.

Amelia clenched her lips tightly. In situations like this, where there were no clear enemies and the focus was on swift movement, internal security naturally weakened significantly.

Moreover, with 5,000 troops needing accommodations, the campsite had become enormous. Once the general location was identified, infiltrating the inner sections became relatively simple.

“How on earth… how did that bastard manage to….”

She still couldn’t comprehend it. How did Ghislain manage to predict her every move so precisely?

‘I need to find out somehow. This isn’t luck, nor is it intuition. He’s acting with certainty.’

She could no longer think of Ghislain as simply a man of extraordinary luck or a mere genius. Considering everything that had happened so far, he seemed more akin to a prophet.

Yet, she still couldn’t grasp what methods he was using. Pressing her fingers against her throbbing temple, she let out a sigh of frustration.

Bernarf, standing nearby, cautiously asked, “So, if Ghislain is also on the move now, what should we do? We must arrive before him, don’t we?”

From the situation, it seemed that both the Raypold and Fenris forces were moving almost simultaneously. However, it was well-known that Ghislain’s army was composed entirely of cavalry. By now, it was obvious they would be heading toward Desmond’s territory at incredible speed.

Bernarf, realizing this, spoke again.

“What if we use the remaining horses to send our cavalry and knights ahead? We wouldn’t lose in speed.”

“They’ve likely laid traps.”

These were the same people bold enough to infiltrate deep inside her camp just to hinder her. With their destination being so obvious, it was inconceivable that they hadn’t prepared traps for the cavalry.

Amelia pulled out a map and studied it carefully before giving her orders.

“That doesn’t mean we can just give up. Split into three groups. Take the fastest route, the middle route, and the detour. Ignore everything else and prioritize capturing the fortress and strongholds I’ve marked.”

Desmond’s territory was vast. Unlike other northern territories, which typically had only a few villages, cities, or a handful of fortresses, Desmond’s domain was on an entirely different level.

Seizing non-strategic locations would be meaningless. They would simply be regarded as invaders and driven out.

At the very least, they had to capture one major stronghold to claim the justification of an alliance. If that was achieved, the ducal family would take care of the rest.

Following Amelia’s orders, the knights and cavalry swiftly recovered from the chaos and began their movements.

Their single objective was to capture and hold the designated areas before the main force arrived.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

The faces of the cavalry, who had barely rested, clearly showed their fatigue. Yet, as soldiers who had undergone intense training, there was no sign of disarray in their ranks.

After sending the cavalry ahead, Amelia surveyed the remaining troops with sharp eyes and commanded, “Recover quickly and move out. There’s no time to rest.”

If Ghislain had been able to anticipate her moves and prepare this much, he too would be heading for Desmond’s territory. It was now a race against time. She had to move even faster.

Grit.

As they marched, Amelia clenched her teeth.

“Ghislain, Ghislain… you bastard….”

The humiliation of being outmaneuvered yet again refused to dissipate. If she had done nothing, she wouldn’t have suffered this disgrace.

As expected, when they reached the fastest route, they found the cavalry that had gone ahead lying in disarray.

Most had fallen into pits lined with spikes and perished. Those who avoided the traps stumbled upon wooden stakes placed precisely at the height to trip the horses, causing their mounts to crash.

Many soldiers lay injured, groaning in pain, while the few unscathed cavalry tended to the wounded, unable to think about advancing further.

The soldiers brought one of the stakes to Amelia. On the stake, a mocking message was carved:

[Made by the Great Blacksmith and Friends.]

“Those bastards dare….”

Fire blazed in Amelia’s eyes. It wasn’t enough to block the path; they had the audacity to leave behind such a petty provocation.

Just from the writing, she could tell who was responsible for the traps. The dwarves said to be residing in Fenris territory must have been mobilized.

A wave of determination surged through her. She would make sure to hunt those dwarves down as well.

As they were tending to the wounded, the cavalry that had taken another route returned.

“What happened?”

“There were obstacles.”

“Obstacles?”

“They piled trees and stones to build a wall across the narrowest part of the gorge. We had no choice but to turn back and take another path. We also found something at the site.”

The commander of the returning cavalry handed over another stake.

[Made by the Great Blacksmith and Friends.]

“……”

She had heard rumors of the peculiar inhabitants of Fenris, but seeing the traces of their work firsthand left her speechless.

It was too late to backtrack. The Raypold forces cleared the traps as quickly as possible and resumed their advance.

When they reached the vicinity of the fortress designated as their first target, the cavalry that had taken the longest detour rejoined the main force.

“Apologies. The enemy has already taken the fortress.”

“……”

How could they have moved so quickly? To capture a frontline fortress right after achieving victory in battle?

It wasn’t as if someone had betrayed them and leaked information. Amelia hadn’t shared her plans with anyone.

Her expression remained cold and silent as she led her troops closer to the fortress.

Sure enough, flying over Desmond’s frontline fortress was the flag of Fenris.

“……”

Amelia stared at the flag without uttering a word. Standing beside her, Bernarf quietly stepped back.

He knew better than anyone that Amelia was at her coldest when she was angriest.

‘Damn it, I told her not to get involved with that guy. Securing Raypold should have been enough—just taking half the North would’ve sufficed.’

Unable to voice his thoughts, Bernarf silently cursed to himself. Her ambitions far exceeded what he could keep up with.

‘If only she would abandon her greed, we could live happily enough.’

He was a man who sought modest happiness, dreaming only of a peaceful life with Amelia.

With Amelia remaining silent, none of her aides dared to speak. Anyone who disturbed her now wouldn’t be able to leave unscathed.

As the Raypold forces continued to stare at the fortress in silence, creak….

Suddenly, the gates of the fortress opened. Emerging from within was Ghislain, mounted on a black horse, accompanied by knights. Slowly, they advanced toward Raypold’s forces.

Seeing this, Amelia mounted her horse and advanced as well. Bernarf and the other knights surrounded her protectively, forming a solid wall.

Ghislain, still covered in the grime of battle, and Amelia, pristine and composed, stopped a measured distance apart.

Ghislain was the first to speak.

“It’s been a while, Amelia.”

Amelia tilted her chin slightly and responded with an arrogant expression.

“It has been, Ghislain.”

The two exchanged smiles as they stared at one another.

Smiles brimming with killing intent.

Before the smiles could even fade, Amelia’s hand twitched slightly. At the same time, mana began to gather around Ghislain’s spear.