The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 252: An Absolutely Insane Place (2)

The Turian Kingdom lay beyond the Ceyron Kingdom, where Claude had come from. Though small like Ceyron, Turian was known as the "Land of Knights," famous for its exceptional warriors.

It wasn’t just the knights; the entire populace was strong and valued martial arts.

They had no choice. The kingdom was bisected by the Shadow Mountains, home to an overwhelming number of monsters.

Just as Ferdium had fought the barbarians for ages, the Turian Kingdom had engaged in a continuous struggle against the monstrous forces spilling down from the mountains.

But Turian couldn't handle the relentless waves of monsters alone. The kingdom’s resources and manpower were strained with each battle against these creatures.

So, they adopted a different approach:

> "Anyone can come here freely to hunt monsters. Status and identity don’t matter—be they criminals, adventurers, or mercenaries. Slay a monster, and all the rights to its by-products are yours."

When this royal decree was announced, people from all over the continent flocked to Turian. With only a minor tax, they could make a fortune.

It was a mutually beneficial strategy—the kingdom reduced its burden, and hunters profited.

Those who specialized in hunting monsters in the Shadow Mountains became known as “Monster Hunters.”

Now, Ghislain planned to head there to hunt monsters and gather leather.

Claude agreed that it was the best plan. But he was wary about Ghislain’s frequent absences.

“How long will you be gone this time? I’ve heard Count Desmond is assembling his forces and evaluating their strength. It seems he’s preparing to resolve matters by force.”

“What about Amelia?”

“She’s still laying siege to Baron Valois, though it seems she’s holding back, avoiding heavy losses.”

Ghislain smirked.

Amelia’s style was to strike hard and fast. If she was being restrained, she likely had a motive.

And Ghislain had a good idea of what she might be planning.

“Keep watching both sides. I’ll be back soon.”

“But leather is a constant need. A brief trip might not solve the problem, especially since there’s no single source, like the barbarian hides. Are you planning to seize leather from the hunters there?”

“I’ll set things up initially and then delegate it. I’ll be taking around fifty knights—the ones with the weakest skills.”

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“Who’s going to lead them?”

Claude tilted his head. The only one fit to take command in Ghislain’s absence was Gillian, but Gillian was incredibly busy managing both the knights and the soldiers’ training.

And Ghislain couldn’t spare the time to train them himself.

After a moment’s thought, a suitable candidate came to Claude’s mind.

“Aha! Someone with no skills outside of fighting and little value in developing the territory! We could entrust it to him.”

Ghislain chuckled at Claude’s assessment. “Exactly. He’s the one I had in mind.”

“Damn it, this is so irritating!”

Kaor kicked a rock out of frustration, annoyed as he’d been for days.

“Fighting the barbarians was fun. Why can’t we go fight again?”

After muttering a few times, he sat down, scratching his head.

In truth, Kaor had been feeling anxious lately.

His rival Gillian seemed to be growing stronger by the day. During the fight with the barbarians, Gillian’s skill level felt worlds apart. Kaor honestly feared he’d lose in a one-on-one fight now.

And it wasn’t just Gillian. Even Belinda seemed formidable; she could probably take him out with her sneaky tactics.

On top of that, others he once considered weaker were improving rapidly, especially Lucas, whose progress was almost unbelievable.

“Am I going to end up as the weakest? That can’t happen.”

Ghislain had helped him become stronger, and he was still getting better, albeit slowly.

But his progress didn’t feel fast enough, making him restless. If this kept up, even Alfoy would surpass him.

“Damn it, fighting is all I’m good at.”

That was his only strength, and losing it would be unbearable.

He wasn’t much use in developing the territory.

While others were busy with training and development, he was left to boss around the Labor Strike Force. Occasionally, he’d help with guard duty.

Everyone else seemed to be finding their place, while he felt left behind.

The longer this continued, the more isolated he felt.

“Maybe there’s something else I can do to be of help... I just want to be useful...”

Kaor was startled by his own words and quickly shut his mouth.

Him? The infamous “Mad Dog of the North,” saying something so honest and soft-hearted?

He’d always lived by the motto, “Bad guys are cooler,” so there was no way he’d accept turning into a responsible person.

“Damn it, I’ll just go for a drink.”

Kaor jumped to his feet and started scolding the members of the Labor Strike Force.

“Hey! Move faster! Why are you so slow? Especially you three! Big bodies, but you’re terrible at working! Useless fools!”

The three of Desmond’s spies, who’d been moving a large rock, tried to slip away. But Kaor moved faster, reaching them in an instant and starting to smack them.

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

“Ow! What now?!”

“What’s your problem this time?!”

“Are you crazy? You can’t just start hitting us!”

Panting, Kaor glared at them. “Something about you three rubs me the wrong way! You’re spies, aren’t you? Admit it! I know you are! I can tell from your shifty eyes.”

Kaor was just venting his frustration, but the three felt a pang of guilt. Nevertheless, they protested their innocence loudly.

“We’re not spies!”

“We’re just honest workers!”

“Are you insane? This is too much!”

Ignoring them, Kaor kept ranting. “Shut up! If I say you’re spies, you’re spies!”

His frustration only seemed to grow. His slower-than-expected improvement, coupled with his sense of inadequacy in developing the territory, gnawed at him.

‘Even that idiot Alfoy’s doing tons of work!’

In most places, Kaor wouldn’t be feeling this much pressure. In other territories, knights were just training expenses.

But Fenris valued people who could contribute in various areas.

Most knights didn’t mind, but Kaor saw himself as one of the territory’s key figures. So he constantly compared himself to Belinda, Gillian, Vanessa, and Claude.

“Should I go ask Lord Ghislain to teach me something new?”

After beating the three senseless, Kaor fell into thought.

He’d already received special training. Asking for more felt like an insult to his pride.

Yet he hated the idea of losing to Gillian, and he was bothered by others catching up from below.

Eventually, Kaor swaggered over to Ghislain’s office, standing silently in front of him.

“...”

“What?”

“...”

“Speak up.”

“...”

“Looks like you need some special training.”

As Ghislain rolled up his sleeves, Kaor finally spoke.

“Is there... anything new?”

“What kind of thing?”

“Just... something good...”

Although he’d boldly come to Ghislain, Kaor struggled to explain his reason.

In the North, Kaor had survived on pride and grit. Asking for help felt humiliating.

‘It’d be nice if he’d just give me something like last time.’

But Ghislain responded bluntly.

“If you’re feeling weak, ask Claude for some mandrake root. Or get Fiote to heal you with holy magic. You look healthy enough, though.”

‘Damn it...’

Kaor pursed his lips, turning his head in annoyance.

He was frustrated. He didn’t want to ask, but the feeling of helplessness was suffocating.

Seeing him sulking without saying anything, Ghislain chuckled.

“Why? Feeling frustrated?”

“...?”

“You’re annoyed because you’re not improving as fast as you’d like, but asking for help hurts your pride?”

“Uh...”

Kaor stared at Ghislain, wide-eyed. How did he know? Had he been that obvious?

Ghislain nodded thoughtfully before speaking.

“It’s normal to feel that way. I’ve been through it myself.”

‘What’s he talking about? How could he understand?’

Though Kaor found it hard to believe, he pushed the thought aside, focused solely on finding a solution.

“Then, teach me something stronger!”

Once he knew Ghislain understood, it was easier to ask.

But Ghislain shook his head.

“Even if I taught you the world’s best mana technique or swordsmanship, it wouldn’t help you right now.”

“What? Just say you don’t want to teach me!”

Kaor snapped.

Learning something better should make him stronger. Gillian was improving rapidly, wasn’t he?

Ghislain ignored Kaor’s reaction and spoke calmly.

“Gillian’s already carved his own path. Years of dedication gave him a strong foundation, so guidance helped him progress. But you’re not there yet. You’re too... unstable.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been getting by on quick thinking without solid fundamentals. You’ve survived thanks to your natural talent, but you lack a structured foundation. Without that, it’s hard to make progress, and you’ll feel more and more anxious.”

In his past life, Ghislain had faced a similar predicament. Blinded by a desire for vengeance, he’d sought rapid improvement, leading only to confusion and setbacks.

While there are faster paths to strength, impatience hinders their discovery.

Kaor was in precisely this state now.

“A solid foundation takes time to build. Your bad habits need to be stripped away so you can build a stronger base. But once you do, you’ll become stronger than ever.”

“I want to be strong now!”

In the future, he might surpass Gillian’s current strength. But who cared? Kaor wasn’t concerned with age.

In a world where death lurked everywhere, immediate strength was what mattered.

Ghislain’s initial training had filled the gaps in Kaor’s skillset, allowing him to grow quickly.

But now, it felt like repetitive drudgery, and his progress had slowed.

He’d encountered a wall—one too big to break through with mere effort.

So, in desperation, Kaor shouted again.

“There has to be something better!”

“There isn’t. Even if there were, it wouldn’t help you now. You’d just hit another wall soon enough. Now you need to invest time, building yourself layer by layer.”

“Damn it! You’re young, and you’re insanely strong! How did you get that way? Did you get extra time?”

Ghislain clicked his tongue at Kaor’s disrespect. Normally, he’d have disciplined him, but this time he let it slide, understanding Kaor’s frustration.

Well, technically, he *had* received extra time through reincarnation.

But in his previous life, he’d only reached the rank of one of the continent’s Seven Strongest through relentless dedication.

There was, however, one special method.

“There is a way to speed things up.”

Hearing this, Kaor’s face lit up with excitement.

“There is? Then don’t keep it to yourself—tell me!”

“Risk your life.”

“Huh?”

“Put your life on the line, constantly fighting in real battles.”

“So... go from battlefield to battlefield?”

“Yes. But if you’re serious about rapid improvement, you’d need to fight daily without breaks.”

“Then how do I do that?”

“By hunting a lot of monsters.”

Kaor snorted at that.

“I’ve hunted tons of monsters. Didn’t I join you in the Forest of Beasts?”

“How many have you killed in your life?”

“Uh... around a thousand!”

Kaor exaggerated slightly. Counting his mercenary days and the Forest of Beasts, he estimated a few hundred.

Ghislain looked at him with an amused smile.

“That’s nowhere near enough.”

“How many, then?”

Ghislain’s lips curled into a wicked grin.

“Oh... about a hundred thousand.”