The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 259: Fighting for Real Today? (2)

Doncard staggered back, clutching his nose in shock. He had timed his attack perfectly—he’d seen Kaor coming and swung at just the right moment. But then, Kaor had vanished from his sight, only to reappear and land a clean punch on his nose, drawing blood.

‘What...? Did he suddenly get stronger? Strong enough to slip out of my sight?’

It didn’t make sense. He felt as though he were fighting a ghost.

Brushing it off as a fluke, Doncard went back on the offensive. But each time he lunged, Kaor deftly sidestepped and countered. Whenever Doncard tried to dodge, Kaor followed up instantly, almost as if he could predict Doncard’s every move.

Before long, Doncard found himself merely defending, his attacks no longer landing as Kaor consistently struck back.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Kaor was irritated, but an odd thrill coursed through him.

‘Damn, that lord of mine really is a monster.’

Following Ghislain’s guidance, Kaor found that Doncard’s attacks missed by just a hair every time. He felt as though he were always a step ahead, his timing lining up perfectly with each of Ghislain’s instructions. It was so precise it was almost uncanny.

It wasn’t just impressive; it was enlightening. As Kaor moved, he realized something.

‘This is everything I learned. I was stupid to learn it but never use it!’

The enemy’s movements, counter-attacks, defensive techniques—all of this, Kaor already knew. As the fight dragged on, he found himself seamlessly applying Ghislain’s training, gaining a strange sense of familiarity with every movement.

With Ghislain’s continued directions in his ear, Kaor’s fighting sharpened.

— “He’s getting desperate now. Fighters who only learn from improvisation tend to break down under pressure. His skill level’s dropping, so stick to what you’ve been taught. Eventually, this should come naturally, but for now, stay focused and move deliberately.”

‘Tch, I know that already,’ Kaor thought, though Ghislain’s tone grated on him.

His lack of training was catching up with him. Rather than fully committing, Kaor had slacked off, doing just enough to feel proficient. Once he thought he was getting stronger, he’d immediately sought shortcuts or wasted time drinking and complaining, all while leaving his new skills underdeveloped.

Thud! Thud!

Kaor smirked, feeling his blood pumping. Doncard’s attacks couldn’t reach him, but his own strikes were landing effectively. A one-sided battle like this was exactly to his taste.

However, Doncard wasn’t someone to be taken lightly. Regaining his composure, Doncard launched a fierce counterattack.

Thud! Thud!

“Gah!”

“Ugh!”

Both men took hits and stumbled back. Kaor’s techniques weren’t fully internalized, so his timing occasionally faltered, and his movements tangled up.

At some point, Ghislain had stopped giving instructions.

With his confidence restored, Kaor focused intently on Doncard, attacking with renewed determination.

Onlookers began to notice the shift and exchanged curious glances.

“Whoa, he’s actually fighting well now?”

“Was he hiding his true strength all along?”

“Maybe he was just feeling him out at first?”

The crowd’s interest reignited, and they started cheering. A real fight was way more exciting to watch than a one-sided beatdown. Monster hunters had no reason to shy away from a good brawl.

“Go, redhead! Give him hell!”

“Take down Doncard!”

“Or just beat each other senseless!”

Many of the hunters had grudges against Doncard, only tolerating him because they feared his power. So, seeing someone stand up to him was refreshing.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Kaor, emboldened by the crowd’s support, pressed his attacks. Gritting his teeth, Doncard blocked and parried, growing increasingly frustrated.

‘Damn it... Why is he suddenly...’

Kaor’s intensity was overwhelming. If Doncard lost, he’d have to leave the fortress. Rebuilding his power base somewhere else would take years—if he could even escape with his life intact. Word of his defeat would spread, making him a target.

‘No choice... I’ll have to draw blood.’

As he staggered back, he subtly pulled a small blade from his waistband, concealing it between his fingers.

With a twisted smile, he prepared to strike. He had used this trick to kill opponents stronger than himself before. Who cared about the outcome of a simple brawl? Dead men told no tales.

‘Didn’t think I’d have to use this again...’

Doncard knew he’d get a bad reputation, but that didn’t bother him. He was already known as the “Beast of Ironcliff.” People called him “king” to his face but sneered at him as a “beast” behind his back.

Unseen by everyone, Doncard signaled his henchmen, his fingers twitching in a coded message.

‘Prepare yourselves.’

The signal was clear: the moment he killed Kaor, they were to attack the rest of Kaor’s group.

Taking a punch from Kaor on purpose, Doncard bit down on the pain and closed the distance. In one swift motion, he drove his fist, hidden blade and all, into Kaor’s stomach.

Thunk!

“Huh?”

Kaor gasped, feeling something pierce his abdomen. The sound was... off.

In the brief moment of shock, Doncard swung at his neck.

Slash!

“Ugh!” Kaor recoiled, blood trickling down his neck as he backed away, clutching his wounds.

Looking down, he saw his hands covered in blood. Doncard had used a hidden weapon.

“You bastard, you had a knife?”

Kaor looked toward Ghislain, incredulous. There was no way his keen-eyed lord could have missed this.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Life’s a real fight,” Ghislain replied casually. “Get cocky because you’re good with your fists, and that’s what happens. You weren’t going to die from it, so I figured this would teach you not to let your guard down. Man, you really are a terrible fighter.”

“...”

Annoying as it was, Kaor couldn’t deny he was right. If the blade had been poisoned or a bit larger, it could have killed him.

No one else seemed to think much of it, either. Doncard’s weapon was subtle, so few noticed it until his opponent was down. As far as the crowd was concerned, it was just another dirty trick.

“You filthy bastard!” Kaor cursed, hurling insults instead of bothering to call Doncard dishonorable.

After all, Kaor himself didn’t really believe in “fair play.” This place had its own brutal rules, and following formalities here was pointless. Hadn’t Ghislain taught him that the hard way?

Furious, Kaor grinned, preparing his own move.

“You’re gonna eat this,” he sneered.

Whoosh!

“What the—?” Doncard shouted, staggering as red powder exploded into his eyes, forcing him to retreat and shut his eyes tight.

“Coward! What the hell did you throw at me?”

Doncard feared poison, but it was nothing of the sort. It just stung terribly, making it impossible for him to open his eyes.

Kaor laughed, watching Doncard struggle.

“Oh, no worries—just my special spice mix, that’s all. Accidents happen.”

The powder was actually a “Spicy Attack Mix” Belinda had given him.

“You’ve got a lot of anger, so eat something spicy now and then to relieve stress,” she’d advised him.

“What is this?” Kaor had asked.

“It’s my special spice mix. If a fight gets tough, just throw it in their eyes. You’re not exactly the best fighter, so this might help.”

“I don’t need it,” Kaor had scoffed, though he had secretly kept the pouch, thinking he might want something spicy someday.

Doncard, meanwhile, staggered blindly, flailing his knife-hand. Kaor finally spotted the blade.

“Oh, a knife, huh? Well, everyone saw that, right? He drew first.”

Kaor taunted him, pulling a dagger from his belt and flinging it.

Thud!

“Urgh!”

The dagger sank into Doncard’s chest. Doncard reeled, struggling to see through the stinging powder, but Kaor was faster.

Thunk!

“Gah!”

In one swift motion, Kaor pulled out a spike hidden in his boot and drove it into Doncard’s abdomen. Kaor could be just as ruthless as Doncard when it came to dirty fighting.

Thunk! Thunk!

Kaor continued his assault, stabbing Doncard repeatedly in the chest, neck, and arms. Blood spurted everywhere as Doncard grew weaker and more disoriented.

“P-please... stop...”

Doncard’s voice was a pathetic rasp. With blurry vision, he looked up at Kaor’s face and was struck by sheer terror.

‘He’s... laughing...’

Kaor’s face was twisted in a wild grin, his eyes flashing with a hint of madness.

“I... I yield...” Doncard whispered.

“Yield? My lord doesn’t do ‘yielding.’ I’m just following his example.”

Thunk! Thunk!

Ignoring his plea, Kaor grabbed Doncard by the collar and stabbed him a few more times, venting all the frustration he’d built up over time.

Finally satisfied, Kaor let go, allowing Doncard’s bloodied, limp body to slump to the ground.

“Urgh...”

Crawling weakly, Doncard attempted to inch away, his body drenched in blood. Desperately, he tried to call out to his followers.

“Kill...kill them all... before they kill us...”

But his men didn’t move. They simply looked down at Doncard with cold, indifferent eyes.

This was a place where only strength mattered, and a defeated leader's words were as meaningless as the wind. Especially when the leader had resorted to dirty tricks only to lose in the end.

“Quickly... before it’s too—”

Suddenly, Kaor stepped forward, grabbing Doncard by the neck and forcing his head back.

“Just die already, you filthy bastard. Stop embarrassing yourself.”

With a sickening snap, Kaor twisted Doncard’s neck, silencing him forever. Doncard’s body went limp, his tongue hanging out as life left his eyes.

Breathing heavily, Kaor released a triumphant roar to the crowd.

“You see that?! I told you all—I’m the strongest! Anyone else want to challenge me?”

Though Kaor’s victory speech was as crude as it was boastful, the crowd erupted into cheers.

“Hell yeah! The redhead did it!”

“Taking down Doncard—now that’s impressive!”

“Guess he’s not just good at hunting monsters!”

Relishing the applause, Kaor ignored his bleeding wounds, puffing out his chest with pride. But the excitement in the air was cut short as a contingent of Turian Kingdom knights and soldiers pushed through the crowd.

One of the knights looked at Doncard’s broken corpse and clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, placing a hand on his sword hilt.

“Killing is forbidden here,” he drawled with feigned displeasure. “First day here, and you’re already breaking rules?”

Despite his words, his expression was indifferent, as though the incident hardly concerned him. Yet, since many witnesses had seen the killing, it would be difficult to ignore.

“Should’ve done it in private if you had to,” he sighed. “Alright, take him in.”

He motioned for the soldiers to detain Kaor, but Kaor snarled in protest.

“Are you blind? Look at the blood—I’m the one who got stabbed first! That bastard pulled a weapon on me!”

Other hunters quickly backed him up.

“He’s right! Doncard threw the first punch with a knife. We all saw it.”

“Come on, since when do you care about fights around here? Just file your paperwork and be on your way.”

“Yeah, interfering in a self-defense case? That’d be a stretch, even here.”

The knight didn’t respond, his expression still unmoved. Kaor’s supporters continued to speak up, and, with the commotion growing louder, Ghislain leaned in to speak quietly to the knight.

“You don’t want to turn the hunters against you over something like this. Besides, isn’t the law here to prevent killers from reducing hunter numbers on the front lines? Losing Doncard is no big deal, but arresting the victor would be a waste.”

The knight’s face softened as he considered Ghislain’s point, eventually nodding in agreement. There was no need to make enemies of the hunters. If they all vouched for Kaor’s self-defense, why bother challenging it?

“Fine,” the knight said with a sigh. “We’ll classify it as an accident during a duel. But make sure these fights don’t get out of hand. With Doncard gone, it’s up to all of you to keep order around here—or the monsters will get you.”

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With a final warning, the Turian knights and soldiers dispersed, leaving the hunters to celebrate. Kaor, still catching his breath, staggered back toward the inn with pride, though his exhaustion was evident.

Ghislain patted him on the shoulder, grinning.

“Not bad—you actually fought well today. Rough start, but you got there.”

“...Of course. I was good all along,” Kaor replied with a smirk.

“Good work. With Doncard gone, things should be smoother for us around here. Let’s rest up for today.”

“Finally,” Kaor sighed. “Then we’ll go hunting again tomorrow.”

“Actually, no. There’s no need to hunt tomorrow,” Ghislain replied casually.

“Wait, what? Why?”

Kaor and the other knights looked at him in surprise. After weeks of nonstop training and hunts, Ghislain was suddenly calling it off. Given his relentless approach, this seemed suspicious.

But Ghislain only grinned.

“Because the monster wave is about to begin.”