The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 485: I Have Questions (3)

The banquet was attended by many nobles.

Of course, the star of the event was Ghislain. This wasn’t just any banquet—it was a victory celebration.

Though Ghislain disliked mingling with nobles, he attended out of courtesy. While he wouldn’t stay for the multiple days of festivities, he intended to make an appearance for at least one evening.

“Brother! You always acted so cocky about your fighting skills, and it turns out you really are good at it!”

Mariel greeted Ghislain warmly, her face glowing with delight. She wasn’t the only one. Other nobles rushed to heap praise upon him.

“We knew the Northern Army’s commander would succeed.”

“Indeed, he is the hero who saved the kingdom. A hero.”

“I’ve always said he wasn’t an ordinary man, even back then.”

A few years ago, these very nobles had dismissed Ghislain as a mere upstart. Now, they sang his praises, as he had grown beyond their reach.

Still, there were nobles of similar age to Ghislain who couldn’t hide their jealousy.

“Why is he still alive?”

“It makes me sick. I wish he’d just die.”

“How does someone like him rise so quickly?”

They gathered in their cliques, busy disparaging Ghislain and venting their envy.

“It’s all luck, isn’t it?”

“Of course. He’s only here because Marquis Branford and Marquis McQuarry backed him.”

“If they had supported me instead, I would’ve crushed the Ducal Faction by now.”

“Exactly. Why isn’t he pressing the advantage? Tsk tsk. He’s still so inexperienced.”

Consumed by their bitterness, they mocked and schemed against Ghislain whenever they could. However, their efforts had no impact on him. All they could do was grumble and stew in their resentment.

As the evening progressed, others sought to use the occasion to curry favor with Ghislain.

“The position of Eastern Army commander is currently vacant... How about recommending this friend of mine?”

“It would reflect well if the Northern Army commander were to endorse someone.”

“After all, the war is as good as over, isn’t it? This friend would be excellent at managing post-war recovery.”

“We’re prepared to show our gratitude for your support, of course.”

The Eastern Army commander’s position had been vacated when Marquis Branford removed his eldest son from the post, citing incompetence. The commander appointed as his replacement had died during the war.

Even Marquis Branford couldn’t reinstall his own relative in the role. He had to be content with saving his son’s life.

Now, the coveted position was up for grabs. While it was a largely ceremonial role in peacetime, during and after a war, it carried significant influence and access to resources.

Ghislain, however, shook his head at the nobles’ subtle overtures.

“That’s a matter for Marquis Branford and Marquis McQuarry to decide.”

“Ah, but surely a word from the Northern Army commander would—”

Ghislain shot them a sharp, annoyed look, and they hesitated before retreating.

“So, he thinks he’s grown big now, huh?”

“Ugh, we can’t touch him because of his military strength.”

“What we need is someone who listens to their elders in that position.”

Detecting their dissatisfaction, Ghislain sighed internally.

The nobles’ admiration, jealousy, flattery, and self-interest—all of it was exhausting.

The war wasn’t even over, yet they were already plotting to maximize their own gains.

“Pathetic. Some people never realize the danger until it’s right at their throats.”

Ghislain found himself sympathizing with Marquis Branford, who had to manage such a self-serving group.

The young noblewomen, who once boldly pursued Ghislain, now held back, intimidated by the high-ranking nobles surrounding him.

Still, they eagerly watched for any opportunity to connect with him.

“He doesn’t have a lover yet, right?”

“If I play my cards right, I could win him over.”

“I can’t let a man like that slip through my fingers.”

Their feline-like stares of anticipation were obvious. Rosalyn, observing from the side, clicked her tongue.

“Stare all you want. That man doesn’t talk to women unless it’s about money. He sees women the same way he sees coins.”

To Rosalyn, Ghislain was a strange man. Most young men of his age were obsessed with women.

But Ghislain? He was only obsessed with money and combat. Watching him sometimes drove her mad.

As Rosalyn silently mocked the other noblewomen, something unexpected happened.

“Oh my, oh my! He’s coming this way!”

“Who is he going to talk to?”

“Look at how confidently he walks!”

The young ladies whispered excitedly among themselves.

Although the banquet was for everyone, young men and women generally stayed to the edges, while the main hall was occupied by the evening’s stars and high-ranking nobles.

Yet here came Ghislain, cutting through the crowd of high-ranking nobles, heading toward the young women’s corner.

The noblewomen straightened their dresses and smiled, each hoping he would approach her.

Ignoring them all, Ghislain walked straight up to Rosalyn.

His stride and presence were so commanding that the others couldn’t help but gasp.

“Lady Rosalyn,” Ghislain said.

Rosalyn lifted her chin, aware of the envious gazes directed at her.

Receiving so much attention, Rosalyn smiled and extended her hand slightly.

“Yes, Count.”

“I noticed this month’s earnings haven’t been tallied yet.”

“...”

“Should I kill him?”

Rosalyn forced a strained smile, reminding herself to maintain her composure in front of the crowd.

Clenching her fists, she replied through gritted teeth,

“Well, we are at war, you know? Naturally, sales have dropped... I’ve been working on resolving it.”

“Of course. I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any issues. Hahaha.”

Ghislain’s bright laughter only made her want to punch him harder.

From the sidelines, the other young ladies giggled quietly, reassured that Rosalyn was nothing more than a business associate.

Rosalyn’s face flushed with embarrassment.

Recently, rumors about Rosalyn had been spreading among the noblewomen. As Ghislain’s fame grew, some in high society deliberately spread gossip to tarnish her reputation.

They hoped such rumors would reach Ghislain and sour his opinion of her.

The noblewomen’s whispers weren’t subtle.

“See? She’s just pretending to be close to him.”

“She’s only managing his business. Nothing romantic about that.”

“She’s probably using her family name to cozy up to him.”

Rosalyn’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.

Though she couldn’t hear the exact words, their mocking intent was clear enough.

“I... I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll retire for the evening,” she said, turning away and biting her lip.

She felt humiliated. This wasn’t like her. Normally, she wouldn’t bat an eye at what others said.

Rosalyn knew Ghislain didn’t see her as anything more than a business partner. But knowing didn’t make the public ridicule any less painful.

“Lady Rosalyn, wait a moment.”

Ghislain grabbed her wrist before she could leave. The watching noblewomen’s eyes widened in shock.

Rosalyn, startled, stammered,

“Wh-What is it?”

Was there more business to discuss? Did he have to humiliate her further in front of everyone?

Ghislain, noticing her flushed face, smirked slightly.

He had heard the whispers and wouldn’t let her leave like this.

Rosalyn wasn’t just anyone. She was an invaluable ally who had supported him through thick and thin.

“I can’t let her leave feeling humiliated.”

Pulling a small box from his pocket, Ghislain handed it to her with a smile.

“This is a gift.”

The gesture shocked not only Rosalyn but everyone watching. Ghislain, famously stingy, was giving someone a gift?

“What... what is this?”

Rosalyn, suspicious, wondered if it was some sort of contract or debt-related document.

“It’s a bracelet,” Ghislain replied, still smiling. “The finest dwarf in our territory crafted it, and a 7th-circle mage imbued it with protective magic.”

Rosalyn’s hands trembled as she opened the box, revealing a beautifully crafted bracelet.

“Wow...”

Gasps of awe echoed around them. The intricate dwarven craftsmanship was breathtaking—a true work of art.

“That will always protect you,” Ghislain said warmly.

“Count...”

Rosalyn struggled to hold back her emotions.

The bracelet wasn’t just a trinket; it was a rare artifact imbued with defensive magic, made with materials as precious as Dragon Heart fragments.

Rosalyn, touched, slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. Around her, the noblewomen ground their teeth in envy.

“Why would he give her something so valuable...?”

“If only it were me...”

“Does he really care about her?”

Oblivious to the deeper significance Rosalyn attached to the gesture, Ghislain simply thought,

“Who should I give the next one to?”

Unbeknownst to Rosalyn, Ghislain had several of these bracelets made for his allies, including those like Claude and Lowell, who couldn’t protect themselves as well.

Still, Rosalyn couldn’t help but misinterpret the gift.

“He finally showed his feelings for me!”

Of course, to Ghislain, it was simply a practical gesture for an important ally.

“Take care of it—it’s expensive,” Ghislain added with a smirk.

“...I will,” Rosalyn replied, smiling despite herself.

The envious stares of the other noblewomen only heightened her satisfaction.

The remaining powder from the Dragon Heart fragments had been processed with runestones and imbued with a massive amount of Vanessa’s magical energy.

This bracelet wasn’t just a trinket—it was a rare artifact crafted by one of the kingdom’s two 7th-circle mages, using precious and costly materials. It was, without a doubt, an extraordinary item.

Rosalyn couldn’t hide her smile as she admired the bracelet. It felt wonderful to receive something so unique, something that no one else had.

The noblewomen watching clenched their teeth in frustration.

“Why would he give her something so valuable...?”

“He should’ve given it to me. I’m prettier than her.”

“Does he really care for her? Or is it just because she’s connected to the Branford family? How disappointing!”

Count Fenris was the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom. Young, highly capable, and commanding an army that could make even the most powerful nobles tremble, he was the ideal partner.

Whoever married him would become one of the kingdom’s most prominent ladies. Moreover, he’d been without a fiancée for years, having long since broken off his engagement.

Now, seeing him give such an extraordinary gift to Rosalyn alone, the noblewomen were beside themselves with jealousy.

“Well, I’ll be going now. I have some important matters to discuss with others,” Ghislain said, excusing himself politely.

“Yes... Please, go ahead,” Rosalyn replied, still lost in admiration of her new bracelet.

Ghislain turned and walked briskly away, brushing off the endless requests for conversation from other nobles.

His next target was none other than Bishop Porisco.

Porisco, who had risen to prominence after the Saint Incident, had grown utterly fearless. He was so carefree that he was visibly drunk at the banquet, his face red and flushed.

He paid no attention to the murmurs of disapproval around him.

When Porisco spotted Ghislain approaching, he beamed and shouted loudly,

“Hey! You’re here! Wow, you really are something else in a fight!”

The drunken bishop had abandoned all decorum, his voice echoing through the hall. The nobles around him tried to calm him down, but their efforts were in vain.

“Ah, let me go! Don’t you know how close we are? Huh? We shared rations together! Ate meals together! Exchanged gifts, even! We’ve done it all!”

The nobles shook their heads in dismay.

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“To think someone like him is called a saint.”

“All that aid came from Count Fenris. He’s just riding his coattails.”

“It’s a good thing the public doesn’t know the truth.”

These nobles, aware of the orchestrated narrative behind Porisco’s rise, simply dismissed his antics.

Ghislain, visibly annoyed, clicked his tongue and grabbed Porisco by the arm, dragging him out of the crowd.

“Hey, hey! What’s the rush? Got something secret to show me? Something good?” Porisco slurred, stumbling after him.

Ghislain didn’t answer and pulled him into a private room reserved as a resting area. He shut the door firmly behind them.

“I need to ask you something,” Ghislain said, his tone firm.

Porisco blinked, his drunken haze lifting slightly. “What is it?”

“You’ve met His Majesty before, haven’t you?”

“Of course! Bishops take turns providing divine healing for him,” Porisco replied.

The only reason the king was still alive despite his frail condition was due to the continuous care of the kingdom’s mages and priests.

Even Porisco, with his modest divine power, was occasionally summoned to check on and heal the king as part of his responsibilities.

Ghislain nodded thoughtfully before asking,

“Is His Majesty’s condition really that bad? So bad that he can’t meet with others?”

“Yes! He’s getting weaker by the day. He can’t even eat properly anymore—it’s been like this for over ten years now. Ugh, he’s stubbornly holding on. Oops! Did I say that out loud?”

Porisco, realizing his slip of the tongue, glanced around nervously before lowering his voice.

“Honestly, we never know when he might pass. Among ourselves, we even joke, ‘Please don’t let him die during my turn.’”

Ghislain frowned as he absorbed the gravity of the king’s situation. After a moment of contemplation, he said,

“The next time you’re summoned to heal His Majesty, take me with you.”

Porisco froze, the sudden request sobering him instantly.