The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 497: I’ll Do My Best (2)

"Attention!"

At Ghislain’s single command, the entire squad lined up in perfect rows.

Ghislain looked around with a slightly displeased expression.

"This ‘squad leader’ is very disappointed in you today."

"......"

No one spoke. "Squad Leader Dougly" had already gained a reputation for his nasty temper. He didn’t tolerate backtalk or excuses.

Turning his gaze toward Victor, Ghislain spoke again.

"Victor."

"...Yes, sir."

"Why is this barracks so filthy?"

"Well... the training has been so intense... we haven’t had time to clean it properly..."

"This squad leader doesn’t like excuses. Everyone, drop down. Begin."

"Begin!"

The soldiers of the “Dougly Squad” immediately dropped to the ground. Even a slight hesitation would lead to a “legal” beating from this “devil.”

Pacing among the prone soldiers, Ghislain lectured.

"An unclean barracks leads to disease. If you get sick, fine—but if you pass it to your comrades, it will weaken the entire squad’s combat readiness. How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"......"

"Answer me."

"Yes, sir!"

The soldiers shouted back energetically, though their faces were pale. Victor, still lying on the ground, gritted his teeth.

"Damn it, everything with him is ‘combat readiness.’ Does he think he’s the Fenris Count or something? Goddamn bastard."

Everyone knew the famous tale of Count Fenris overhauling his entire territory to optimize his soldiers’ combat effectiveness.

Victor believed this lunatic was just some fanatic trying to emulate the Fenris Count.

"If I hadn’t been demoted..."

Victor seethed. Ghislain’s skills were undeniable, befitting someone who had supposedly fought alongside the Rayfold forces in the east. No matter how hard Victor tried, he couldn’t surpass him.

As a result, the higher-ups had handed the squad leader position to Ghislain.

"I hope he gets promoted soon and moves on. Then I can get my position back."

Rumors circulated that Dougly might be transferred to an instructor role or an even higher position after the upcoming negotiations with the duchy.

Victor prayed the rumors were true.

Initially, no one minded when Dougly took the squad leader role. They thought as veterans, they could get away with paying him minimal respect.

But that assumption had been a mistake.

"That bastard is a devil."

Victor wasn’t the only one who thought so. All the soldiers agreed.

With his constant focus on “combat readiness,” Dougly was relentless. Even those who lagged behind in skill had no rest, being forced to train during their downtime.

"Every drop of sweat in training saves a drop of blood in battle! The more you sweat, the less you’ll bleed!"

He would bark this mantra as he mercilessly drilled his squad.

The higher-ups, impressed by the squad’s improvement in discipline and combat readiness, rewarded Dougly with even more authority.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

What was once the 5th Squad was now better known as “Dougly’s Squad.”

This only emboldened Dougly further.

"Roll forward."

"Roll backward."

"Roll sideways."

Anyone who dared challenge him was swiftly dealt with.

"You bastard! I’ve had enough of this!"

Smack!

Those who tried to fight him went down in one hit. Even when the squad ganged up on him, the result was the same. Dougly’s fighting prowess was unmatched.

After several failed attempts, the squad learned to obey.

Ghislain looked at his squad with satisfaction.

"This is just how I like it."

Restraining himself to avoid drawing attention had been frustrating, but with the authority granted to him, he could now discipline them as much as he pleased.

His methods, while extreme, were tolerated by the higher-ups because of the squad’s noticeable improvement.

Satisfied that the punishment had gone on long enough, Ghislain finally commanded:

"On your feet."

"Yes, sir!"

"From now on, for the sake of maintaining combat readiness, the barracks will be kept spotless. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Next, we’ll inspect personal equipment."

With a rustle, the soldiers laid out their gear for inspection.

Picking up Victor’s spear, Ghislain scrutinized it and sighed.

"This squad leader is disappointed again."

"......"

"How do you expect to maintain combat readiness with a weapon in this condition?"

Victor silently moved to the side and lay down on his own. He knew better than to argue; it would only lead to another beating.

Ghislain clicked his tongue. He had hoped Victor would resist, giving him an excuse to vent his frustrations.

"Victor will do all the squad’s laundry today as punishment for neglecting his equipment. Understood?"

"...Yes, sir."

"Make sure it’s clean—for the sake of combat readiness."

Satisfied, Ghislain addressed the squad again.

"As you all know, the company tactical training evaluation is coming up. The top-performing company will take the lead position during the corps’ formation. You’re all aware of this, right?"

The soldiers groaned inwardly. Leading the formation was the last thing they wanted—it meant being the first into danger.

To motivate them, the higher-ups had promised generous rewards for top performance in the evaluation. This had stirred some enthusiasm, but most soldiers were still reluctant.

Ghislain, however, had no intention of losing.

"I’ve heard that our company has consistently ranked last in evaluations. But that was before I got here."

"......"

The squad stared at him, unsure of what this lowly squad leader was about to declare.

Ghislain smirked arrogantly.

"This squad leader hates losing. From now on, our company will take first place. If we lose, I’ll live, but you’ll all die. Understood?"

He was making proclamations worthy of the company commander himself.

The squad didn’t know how to respond and remained silent.

"......"

"Answer me."

"Yes, sir!"

"Drop down."

Groaning, the soldiers dropped to the ground again.

Ghislain expected instant obedience. Any delay would result in immediate punishment. His obsession with discipline bordered on pathological.

"We will win. I demand victory. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

Pleased with their response, Ghislain nodded with a grin.

Leading the formation would provide him with the perfect position to carry out his mission during the negotiations.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

"If I’m here, we must win."

It was a matter of pride. No matter how much he was pretending, losing in combat was unthinkable to him.

"Now, let’s train with enthusiasm!"

"Yes, sir!"

Under Ghislain’s relentless leadership, the "Dougly Squad" pushed themselves to their limits.

Their grueling training schedule left no room for rest without his permission. Many soldiers felt they were on the brink of death.

"Why haven’t I passed out yet?"

"Shouldn’t I have collapsed by now?"

"Why does this feel... bearable?"

Despite their complaints, the soldiers gradually adapted to the intensity of the training.

Unbeknownst to them, Ghislain meticulously monitored their progress, balancing rest and exertion to ensure maximum efficiency.

What they saw as aimless brutality was, in fact, carefully planned.

Finally, the day of the company tactical evaluation arrived.

The commander of the perpetually last-ranked 3rd Infantry Company addressed his troops with a mix of desperation and determination.

"This time, we must secure first place! ...Or at least not come last! If we fail, I’ll make sure every one of you regrets it!"

The tactical evaluation required both strategic brilliance and disciplined execution.

The 3rd Infantry Company’s goal was to secure a small hill.

"Prepare yourselves! We will attack!"

Their opponent was the 5th Infantry Company.

As the two forces lined up and began advancing, the 3rd Company commander shouted with all his might:

"Charge!"

"Waaaaaah!"

The soldiers of the 3rd Infantry Company charged forward, their expressions filled with frustration.

“Isn’t this the same as last time?”

“Why is it always a charge?”

“God, this guy is obsessed with charging.”

Indeed, the 3rd Infantry Company’s commander had a peculiar obsession with the concept of a charge. His position as commander was ill-suited for someone who could only think about one tactic.

"Infantry battles are won by the stronger side, no matter what!"

Easier said than done. In reality, charging was a cavalry tactic, not something infantry excelled at.

The commander of the 5th Infantry Company smirked as he observed.

"Ah, that idiot’s doing the same thing again."

His deputy chuckled alongside him.

"I heard the 3rd Infantry’s commander might get sacked if they come in last again."

"About time. Honestly, keeping a guy like that around only gets soldiers killed. Everyone knows he’s only here because of his noble connections."

The 5th Infantry commander had every reason to sneer. The 3rd Infantry’s commander hadn’t even studied military tactics properly. His merchant parents had bribed a noble to secure his position.

"It’s a relief that companies rarely fight independently in real wars."

If this guy ever became a corps commander, his troops would perish in a string of reckless charges.

"Raise your shields! This is going to be easy!"

The 5th Infantry Company soldiers raised their wooden shields and prepared their straw clubs. Though simple training weapons, they could still deliver painful blows.

Soon, the two companies clashed.

"Push them back!"

"Hold the line!"

Both sides swung their clubs furiously.

However, the reckless charge of the 3rd Infantry Company was no match for the organized, shielded formation of the 5th Infantry.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Ouch, ouch, ouch!"

The 3rd Infantry soldiers barely penetrated the first line before getting beaten back.

As the 5th Infantry soldiers steadily repelled them, their commander laughed loudly.

"Hahaha! You idiots! Charging blindly like that won’t get you anywhere!"

Infantry, unlike cavalry, couldn’t simply smash through a shield wall without exceptional strength or skill.

Watching his soldiers fall apart, the 3rd Infantry commander shouted in frustration.

"Why are my men so weak? We trained so hard!"

His deputy stayed silent.

The problem wasn’t training—it was strategy. Charging headlong didn’t guarantee victory.

The 3rd Infantry commander had attempted to form a charge-friendly formation, but that was the extent of his tactical capabilities.

However, there was something none of the commanders or soldiers knew.

Among them was someone who not only loved charging but was also exceptional at it.

Ghislain turned to his squad and motioned with his hand.

"Alright, are you all ready?"

"Yes, sir! We’re ready!"

The Dougly Squad was positioned in the middle ranks, still holding back their energy.

As the front lines began to crumble, Ghislain grinned and addressed his soldiers.

"No matter how strong a defense, they’ll tire eventually. When I give the signal, follow me and don’t look anywhere else. I’ll lead the charge. Understood?"

"Understood, sir!"

Gripping his straw club tightly, Ghislain focused on the battlefield. He had no intention of using mana—it would ruin the fun.

Instead, he planned to fight while holding back, matching the level of the soldiers around him.

As soon as the front line fell, Ghislain shouted:

"Now!"

Whoosh!

He surged forward, smashing the first enemy soldier on the head before they could react.

Thwack!

"Urgh!"

The soldier staggered, and Ghislain kicked him in the stomach, sending him tumbling backward. Without missing a beat, Ghislain stepped over him and struck the next soldier.

"Waaaaaah!"

The Dougly Squad followed their leader, roaring as they plunged into the opening. The enemy tried to resist, but it was no use.

"W-what’s going on?"

"Why are they so strong?"

"Hold the line! Don’t let them through!"

The Dougly Squad was no longer the same. Their hellish training had transformed them into a formidable force.

They drove into the enemy formation like a spear, relentlessly swinging their clubs as they advanced.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

"Aaargh! Who are these guys?"

The enemy soldiers panicked as the Dougly Squad attacked with overwhelming speed and precision.

Ghislain stood out the most, though he refrained from using any advanced techniques. With just the basic moves of an infantryman, he effortlessly mowed down the opposition.

"Wooooooah!"

Soldiers from other squads began cheering. The once-impenetrable enemy formation now had a glaring gap.

Like water rushing through a broken dam, the other soldiers naturally funneled into the breach.

"Let’s follow the Dougly Squad!"

With everyone pouring in, the enemy’s formation began to collapse entirely.

The 5th Infantry commander leapt to his feet, yelling in disbelief.

"What the hell is going on?!"

A straight path had been carved through their lines. With more soldiers flooding in, the formation around the breach began to crumble.

The 3rd Infantry commander also jumped up, shouting in excitement.

"Yes! Just like that! Push through! See? We can do it! It’s working!"

For the first time in his life, he was witnessing a successful infantry charge.

The battlefield erupted into chaos, the energy of the soldiers hitting its peak as they swung their clubs with all their might.

Meanwhile, a man watching from the sidelines trembled, his face pale.

"Why... why are they fighting so hard?"

It was none other than Baron Andy Shear, attending as an observer. He stomped his feet in frustration.

"Why are you drawing attention to yourself like this?!"

He was about to lose his mind. Ghislain, who had promised to keep a low profile, was now charging into battle as a squad leader.

"This guy really is insane about fighting."