The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 500: Destroy It? (1)

A week after Ghislain’s meeting with the Marquis of Branford, the Royal Army of 50,000 soldiers began its march toward Heine Plains, just as Baron Shear had indicated.

The Royal Army, hastily reorganized after repeated defeats by the Duke’s forces, was still a disjointed and uncoordinated mess. However, they had selected the best-conditioned units to lead the march.

At the forefront of the Second Corps stood the 3rd Infantry Company, holding their position proudly.

For the soldiers, this was both a point of pride and a source of discomfort. Winning first place in the evaluation had been gratifying, but standing at the vanguard meant they would be the first to engage if a battle broke out.

The captain of the 3rd Infantry Company, however, was utterly delighted.

"Ah, there are officer transfers coming next quarter, aren’t there? With our first-place finish, my promotion is practically guaranteed."

Thanks to their overwhelming success in the infantry charge evaluations, he was sure to draw attention.

The captain stole a glance at Ghislain, walking confidently at the front, his eyes gleaming with admiration.

"Oh, you beautiful thing. Where did such a lucky charm come from? Once this operation is over, I’ll appoint you as my lieutenant. Let’s stick together forever."

The captain was no fool. He knew well that the Dougly Squad’s achievements had been the backbone of their success.

If he wanted to continue his charge tactics, the Dougly Squad was indispensable. Even if he got promoted, he planned to keep Ghislain close as his trusted aide.

"Thanks to me, your life will improve too. I’ll make sure you’re well-paid and secure your place. Always bring me luck, will you? Hahaha."

Lost in his fantasies, the captain stared endlessly at Ghislain, whose face showed clear discomfort.

"What’s with him? Why is he looking at me like that?"

It was a gaze akin to a lover’s ardent plea. Clearly, Ghislain had made too much of an impression.

Fortunately, the captain’s creepy gaze finally broke when they reached the Heine Plains.

"Form ranks!"

The commander’s shout brought the Royal Army to strict order. Not wanting to appear weak in front of the Duke’s forces, they stood tall and disciplined.

Soon, several officials appeared, setting up a table and seating arrangements in the center of the plains.

This was where the king and the Duke’s representative would sit to negotiate.

The arrangement was uncharacteristically simple for a diplomatic table, designed to show that no tricks or treachery were intended.

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Moments later, a messenger galloped in, shouting, "The Duke’s army is approaching!"

Everyone turned their attention toward the direction the messenger had come from, tension thick in the air.

The Duke’s forces, once regarded as the strongest in the kingdom, had crushed the Royal Army on the southern front.

In the distance, the vast army bearing the Duke’s banners approached at a steady pace.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The ground rumbled rhythmically as the soldiers marched in perfect unison, their formation flawless.

Seeing this, the Royal Army’s officers paled.

This was different.

Those who had faced the Duke’s forces before instantly realized these weren’t the same troops they had previously encountered.

"We were mistaken."

"This... this is their true main force."

At the head of the formation, a towering brown horse carried Count Kaien Balzac, the Kingdom’s Greatest Swordsman. He wielded a massive two-handed greatsword strapped to his back.

Flanking him were priests in black robes from the Salvation Order and formidable commanders of the Duke’s forces, exuding a sharp, intimidating aura.

Even the common soldiers and knights marched with an unwavering intensity, their steps perfectly synchronized.

The sheer presence of the approaching army filled the vast plains, a testament to why they were once called the strongest force in the kingdom.

Before the Duke’s army had even engaged, the Royal Army felt completely overwhelmed.

Count Phalantz, who had always been irked by Kaien’s reputation as the greatest swordsman, shouted, "Do not falter! What disgrace is this in the presence of His Majesty?"

His words helped the soldiers regain their composure and straighten their backs. After all, they still had the Royal Guard Commander, who matched Kaien’s reputation, on their side.

Even King Berhem’s scowl deepened as he muttered, "Such a grand display of might should belong to my army..."

His murmurs left the Royal Army’s commanders silent.

Meanwhile, Ghislain, watching the Duke’s forces draw closer, allowed a sly smile to spread across his face.

"Just as I expected."

For the first time since his reincarnation, he saw familiar faces among the Duke’s officers. Each of them was at least an advanced or elite knight, with several capable of reaching the level of Master with time.

It was now clear—the forces the Duke had deployed previously were merely those of his vassals. His true core army, the personal troops of the Ducal Estate, had remained hidden until now.

"Count Balzac... this time, I’ll get to face you."

In his previous life, Ghislain had lost before he ever got the chance to fight Kaien. The man had always been by the Duke’s side, untouchable.

Now, as he stared at Kaien in the distance, Ghislain’s grin twisted into something more sinister.

The Duke’s army halted at a calculated distance, their movements precise.

Kaien and Gatros stepped forward from the Duke’s side, while King Berhem and Count Phalantz represented the Royal Army.

Kaien dismounted, placing a hand over his chest as he bowed.

"Your Majesty."

Berhem’s lips twitched in irritation. Kaien’s refusal to kneel and properly pay respects grated on him, but as a loyal subject of the Duke, Kaien’s conduct was untouchable.

"Count Balzac, it’s been a long time. How fares the Duke?"

"He regrets that his ill health prevents him from attending in person and sends his deepest apologies."

Berhem’s expression darkened further. Ill health? As if the Duke’s condition was worse than his own. Still, the king sat down, his displeasure visible.

"There’s no need for pleasantries. Let’s get to the matter at hand. Who is this beside you?"

Gatros bowed with a polite smile.

"I am Gatros, a humble priest of the Salvation Order, Your Majesty."

"Oh, is that so?"

Berhem’s demeanor shifted, showing warmth toward Gatros. After all, the Salvation Order’s Flakus had saved his life and promised him the artifact that would elevate him to superhuman status.

Gatros produced a small box and opened it before the king.

"This is the Orb of Life."

Inside the box was a small black sphere, radiating an unending aura of dark energy.

"Oh..."

The black energy swirled and rippled through the air, mesmerizing Berhem.

His trembling hand reached out instinctively.

Clack.

Gatros closed the box, cutting off the energy.

"Your Majesty, it is time for you to present the Royal Treasure."

Berhem scowled, his irritation evident. The negotiations, where he had to meet on equal footing, were an affront to his royal authority.

But for now, he had no choice.

Removing a ring from his finger, he asked, "How can you verify that this is indeed the Royal Treasure?"

Gatros retrieved a small, weathered cup, its appearance so ordinary it seemed more fitting for a peasant’s home than a royal court.

"Place the treasure within this, and it will reveal itself," Gatros explained.

Curious, Berhem placed the ring into the cup.

Clink.

The ring rolled inside, but nothing happened.

Gatros sighed solemnly. "It seems this is not the Royal Treasure, Your Majesty."

Berhem’s lips twisted in displeasure. "The royal family’s history is long; there are many treasures. You did not specify which one you sought."

Gatros smiled faintly. "Your Majesty, surely you have a suspicion of what it might be."

Berhem’s twisted smile betrayed his irritation. This priest wasn’t probing blindly—he knew something.

"Let’s see if this works," Berhem muttered, removing the simple necklace he wore around his neck.

Gatros tilted his head, recognizing it. He had seen it countless times during healing sessions with the king. Its unassuming design had never led him to suspect it might be anything significant.

But then—

Shiiing!

The moment the necklace entered the cup, a radiant light burst forth.

"Ah..."

The light was so divine that everyone watching was awestruck.

Unlike the Salvation Order’s ominous dark energy, this light exuded an aura of pure sanctity.

"This... what is this?"

Berhem was stunned. Having received treatments from priests for years, he could tell—this was divine power, and incredibly potent at that.

"So there really was a way to confirm it."

He had inherited the necklace from his predecessors with little explanation beyond it being important. He hadn’t known it possessed such abilities.

Berhem’s gaze turned greedy. He had planned to trade the relic for a healthy body, dismissing it as a sentimental keepsake. But now, with its power revealed, the situation was entirely different.

"Must it be that specific relic? This necklace has been passed down since the time of the founding king, and I feel it would dishonor my ancestors. I could offer something even greater in exchange."

Gatros, however, remained firm. "Your Majesty, we deeply regret it, but this item is indispensable to us."

Berhem suppressed his rising anger.

"Audacious fools! If a king begs this much, shouldn’t they oblige?"

But for now, he had to hold back. He knew where it was going, so he could reclaim it later.

With a deep breath, Berhem spoke, "Very well, it is unfortunate, but it cannot be helped. Let us proceed with the exchange and move on to the ceasefire negotiations."

When he placed the lid back on the chalice, the divine energy ceased flowing.

Kaien glanced at Gatros, silently confirming the item. Gatros, visibly excited, nodded affirmatively.

Kaien bowed slightly toward Berhem. "Your Majesty, we shall now proceed with the exchange."

Knights from both sides stepped forward, each carrying an item. Their companions leveled swords at their necks, ensuring that a single misstep would result in immediate execution.

This was how seriously both parties regarded the exchange.

Meanwhile, Ghislain, standing in the front ranks, emitted invisible threads of mana, his eyes gleaming.

"At least I’m near the front."

Though he stood at the vanguard of the Second Corps, knights still blocked his view of the table. However, he had already pinpointed the location using Dark, who had scouted from above.

Kaien scanned the knights on both sides before speaking. "Then, let us take one step forward..."

Clang!

Before he could finish, Kaien suddenly unsheathed the massive sword from his back.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Count Phalantz, observing from nearby, also drew his weapon. The surrounding knights immediately formed a protective circle around Berhem, and every soldier raised their arms.

Even the knights holding the items were swiftly surrounded by both armies.

The atmosphere turned volatile in an instant. Gatros and the priests of the Salvation Order began channeling their energy, ready to seize the items by force if necessary.

However, Kaien wasn’t focused on them.

"What is this?"

Frowning, Kaien turned his gaze to the side. Though nothing was visible, he sensed something approaching.

Count Phalantz, the Royal Guard Commander, also noticed and turned his head.

Both men, having reached the level of masters through sheer effort, detected an unusual energy in the air.

Kaien slashed the air with his sword.

Slash!

Something was cut. Kaien could feel it. At the same time, Phalantz cleaved through the creeping energy in the air.

Boom!

Kaien scowled fiercely toward the Royal Army’s direction, roaring, "Who’s there?!"

There was someone. Whether they were a mage or a knight was unclear, but their mana manipulation was extraordinary.

Even Kaien, with all his expertise, had never seen such a technique before. Whoever it was had reached the level of a transcendent.

All eyes turned toward the Royal Army. Even Phalantz shifted his gaze backward.

Fwoosh!

Just then, Kaien’s eyes widened as he stared at the sky.

Threads of mana split into hundreds, even thousands, spreading across the air like a spiderweb.

"You dare!"

Boom!

Kaien swung his sword, instantly obliterating the threads of mana enveloping the sky.

But even as they disappeared, more threads emerged from nowhere, spreading anew. Unable to locate the source, Kaien focused on slashing the threads.

Phalantz joined in, slicing through the expanding threads to identify the enemy’s position.

That was their mistake.

As the two masters focused on the threads, a serpentine thread of mana slithered underground and suddenly lashed out, wrapping around the knights holding the items.

Realizing what was happening, Kaien whipped his head around and shouted, "Hold onto the items no matter—"

Swoosh!

Both items shot into the air.

Gatros’s eyes burned with fury.

"Stop him!"

He unleashed his energy and leaped forward. But before he could act, someone from the Royal Army darted out and seized both the box and chalice mid-air.

"You scoundrel!"

Gatros roared, releasing a burst of energy at the figure.

Boom!

The energy clash sent shockwaves rippling through the field, but the figure deftly countered, using the force to retreat further.

Thud.

A soldier clad in the Royal Army’s uniform landed gracefully, holding the stolen items. Every eye turned to him.

Kaien glared at the man, demanding, "Who are you?"

The soldier straightened, answering confidently, "I am the leader of the Dougly Squad, part of the 3rd Infantry Company of the Second Corps."

"..."

Kaien turned to Phalantz, who shook his head.

"I don’t know him."

"Then he must be..."

Kaien began to piece it together. Only one person in the kingdom would have the audacity to pull such a stunt in this situation.

"Count Fenris."

At that, Ghislain grinned, revealing his true face.

There was no point in hiding anymore; even he thought his actions were absurd. It would be revealed soon enough in the ensuing chaos.

"Surprised?"

His relaxed tone made Kaien’s eyebrow twitch. Though this was only their second meeting, Kaien was familiar with the face from countless portraits.

Information from the past suddenly came rushing back. It had been said that Count Fenris could control weapons freely on the battlefield, manipulating them with an uncanny skill.

He must have used that ability to snatch the items.

"You dare..."

Kaien was at a loss for words. The sheer audacity of this man—stealing the items right from under the Royal Army’s nose, alone.

Did he actually think he could escape? The man was insane.

Gatros, seething with rage, bellowed, "You wretch! Perfect timing. I’ll kill you right here!"

Boom!

Just as he was about to charge, he froze at Ghislain’s next words.

"Destroy it?"

Ghislain wore a wicked grin, gripping the box and chalice tightly in his hands.