The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 337: I’ll Solve It for You (1)

Dominic woke up, shaking off his grogginess, and after dismissing his subordinates, he bowed deeply to Ghislain.

“I believe you.”

“You don’t sound like you do.”

“I do. Truly.”

“If you really believed me, you wouldn’t say it like that.”

“......”

The truth was, Dominic still harbored a shred of doubt. Yet, the uncanny resemblance to the portrait and the overwhelming display of power made it hard to deny.

Dominic was no amateur—his skills rivaled those of a mid-level knight. Even while pretending to be drunk, it should have been impossible to knock him out with a single punch.

And then there was the crimson glow of the mana technique—a rare and unmistakable feature. It was almost certain that this man was indeed Count Fenris.

Dominic nodded with renewed determination. “I believe you!”

“Well, that’s something we can work on over time,” Ghislain replied. “But I didn’t come here to convince you of who I am. I came here for a reason.”

“An assignment?” Dominic asked.

“No. I came here for something I need.”

“What is it?”

“You.”

Dominic’s face turned a shade of red. “I... I am indeed a devoted follower of the count, but if you put it like that so suddenly... I’m not sure I’m ready for—”

“...I think you’re misunderstanding something. I came to bring the Drake Mercenary Corps under my command.”

“Wait, us?” Dominic’s astonishment was plain.

Even for a noble, such a statement was audacious. Mercenaries, by their nature, valued freedom. That’s why they became mercenaries instead of soldiers.

To outright declare he wanted to absorb the Drake Mercenary Corps—a group that numbered in the thousands when counting its subsidiaries—was nothing short of madness.

“Even House Rodrik never said anything this bold.”

House Rodrik had only managed to control the mercenary corps by taking Dominic and his officers’ families as hostages. They had spent years carefully fabricating crimes, slowly tightening their grip until the current situation emerged.

It was a feat possible only for a house with immense power and resources like House Rodrik. Mercenaries were notoriously vulnerable to political machinations, and even so, only an entity like House Rodrik could bind them so completely.

By comparison, Ghislain’s words were outright lunacy—something only an insane person would say.

Dominic nodded to himself. This man really must be Count Fenris.

His doubts were erased. He was now fully convinced that the man before him was none other than the infamous count. His eyes sparkled with newfound admiration.

Ghislain, uncomfortable under Dominic’s intense gaze, shifted slightly before continuing.

“I’m not one for beating around the bush or playing guessing games. I’ll be blunt—work for me. I’ll let the mercenary corps remain intact and ensure you receive the kingdom’s best treatment.”

“Why... us?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I need you for war and work. What else would I need mercenaries for? You’re the largest group in the West, one of the kingdom’s most renowned mercenary corps. So, I want you to join the Fenris Mercenary Corps as a subsidiary.”

Dominic blinked, surprised by Ghislain’s straightforwardness. He had never encountered a noble who spoke so plainly.

“Fenris Mercenary Corps?”

He hadn’t heard of any mercenary corps being established in Fenris yet, but he could guess Ghislain’s intent.

Count Fenris was infamous for dabbling in every kind of venture imaginable.

Even if all the northern mercenaries were combined, they wouldn’t compare to the Drake Mercenary Corps. Absorbing the group would indeed be a quick way to expand his influence.

“To work under him...”

Dominic’s heart pounded. He already lived a wretched life under someone else’s thumb, performing dirty tasks for House Rodrik.

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People praised the Drake Mercenary Corps as the West’s finest, but the reality was far more grim and disgraceful.

And now, the man he idolized had come to him, offering an opportunity. Ghislain was well-known for rewarding loyalty handsomely. The prospect of working for such a man was tempting.

“I want to go.”

Had it not been for his current circumstances, Dominic might have refused out of pride. But in his present state, there was no one in the world who wanted to join Ghislain more than he did.

To serve alongside one’s hero was the ultimate dream for any follower.

“But it’s impossible for me right now.”

Dominic chuckled bitterly and shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I can’t. Circumstances prevent me...”

“I know.”

“...What?”

“House Rodrik has your hostages. Your families, right?”

“H-How do you know that?”

House Rodrik had gone to great lengths to conceal this fact. They avoided spreading rumors, wary of unnecessary chaos. While whispers occasionally surfaced, House Rodrik’s machinations ensured they were swiftly silenced.

The mercenary corps themselves had tried to leak the truth at first, but it only resulted in more hostages being killed. Eventually, they were forced to stay silent.

And yet, Count Fenris—who resided in a different region—knew this secret. Dominic was stunned, left gaping as he tried to process the revelation.

Ghislain smirked. “I know everything. You don’t need to hide it from me.”

In his past life, Ghislain had scorched the West and clashed with the Drake Mercenary Corps. Each castle he conquered brought him access to secret documents that exposed the corruption and schemes of the noble houses.

It was during that time that he learned about House Rodrik’s control over the Drake Mercenary Corps through hostages.

Dominic, his expression conflicted, let out a heavy sigh. “I’d heard rumors, but it seems the chronicles were true. They spoke of your extraordinary knowledge... that you possessed mysterious insights.”

“Oh? That’s written in the chronicles?”

“Yes, though they also mentioned you mostly relied on luck and brute force.”

“...I’d like to know who wrote that.”

Ghislain could guess, but he made a mental note to confirm it later. For now, he smiled confidently.

“I’ll solve that problem for you.”

“You, my lord?” Dominic asked, skeptical.

“Of course. If I free the hostages, you’ll have no reason to remain under House Rodrik’s thumb, will you?”

“Well... that’s true, but...”

Dominic hesitated. No one wanted to rescue the hostages more than they did, but the risk was immense. Even the smallest misstep could put their lives in jeopardy.

Ghislain, understanding his concern, spoke firmly. “I know you’re afraid. But all I can tell you is to trust me. If you follow my plan, we’ll succeed in rescuing the hostages.”

“......”

“One thing is certain: if things continue as they are, both you and the hostages will die.”

Dominic couldn’t deny the truth of that statement. Martin’s actions were becoming increasingly reckless, and it felt as though enemies were closing in from all sides.

On top of that, rumors of rising tension between the Duke’s faction and the King’s faction were spreading. Whispers of civil war loomed like a shadow over the kingdom.

If war did break out, the Drake Mercenary Corps would undoubtedly be used as cannon fodder by House Rodrik.

It was one thing to die in battle—it was the fate of mercenaries. But to be treated as disposable tools and perish in such a disgraceful manner was too bitter a pill to swallow.

Yet, even with these thoughts swirling, Dominic struggled to make a decision.

“May I... discuss this with my officers before giving an answer?”

“No. If word leaks out, I might fail.”

“But I can’t decide something this monumental on my own—”

“Decide.”

Dominic hadn’t expected Count Fenris to be so relentless. He’d heard about Ghislain’s reputation for stubborn determination, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely.

“What happens if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll leave,” Ghislain said plainly. “But know this: your mercenary corps and your hostages will undoubtedly die.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m stating a fact. If you don’t join me now, we’ll meet on the battlefield as enemies soon enough.”

Dominic had no rebuttal. Ghislain had grown by cutting down the Duke’s faction nobles one by one. It wasn’t far-fetched to think war would break out eventually.

House Rodrik, located in a strategic crossroads close to the capital, would be among the first targets. It was only a matter of time.

“I...”

Dominic couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Words failed him.

Ghislain, as if delivering his final ultimatum, said, “Decide.”

“I...”

"Decide."

“I-I....”

“Decide quickly.”

“......”

He was relentless. It was said that Count Fenris never backed down once he made up his mind. It seemed he couldn’t rest until he got what he wanted.

Dominic bit his lip several times, then finally shut his eyes tightly and said, “...I’ll do it.”

His head was pounding, but he wanted to believe in the man standing before him. For once, he chose to trust his instincts.

Ghislain’s grin spread wide. “Good. Doesn’t that feel like a weight’s been lifted?”

“...I suppose so,” Dominic replied with a faint, exhausted laugh.

Every day, he had lived with an unbearable weight in his chest, pretending to endure, telling himself he didn’t know what to do.

But deep down, he had always known. If things continued like this, both the Drake Mercenary Corps and their families would meet a tragic end.

He had merely delayed taking action, paralyzed by fear, waiting for someone to guide him.

If his fate was to die, then he might as well fight to the bitter end.

Now resolute, Dominic looked at Ghislain with determined eyes. “What must I do?”

“That’s the look I wanted to see. Start preparing everything I’ll ask for as quickly as possible. And... let’s take a look at where your families are being held.”

“Understood.”

Ghislain, clad in a cloak alongside Dominic, observed Martin’s estate from a distance.

The estate was located in one of the largest cities in the West, where Martin had secured the position of mayor thanks to his father, Marquis Rodrik.

The mansion itself resembled a small fortress. Ghislain gazed at the sight and chuckled.

“What a coward.”

The enormous estate was surrounded by smaller buildings, making it look like a sprawling compound. High walls encircled the estate, resembling castle fortifications more than mere boundaries.

Watchtowers were stationed throughout, with guards on the walls scanning the area vigilantly.

It wasn’t just Martin’s private soldiers maintaining security—city guards also patrolled the estate grounds. Moreover, the city’s defensive troops had an encampment nearby, further reinforcing the area.

“How many men are here?” Ghislain asked.

“Inside the estate, about 500 soldiers. The city garrison stationed nearby numbers roughly 1,000. As for knights, their numbers fluctuate—some are dispatched by House Rodrik, while others rotate in and out.”

“A mansion housing an army... absurd.”

Ghislain clicked his tongue. He recalled the time he had rescued Claude and seen Baron Auston’s forces—numbering around 500 men.

But here, a mere mayor commanded more troops than many barons. Maintaining such a force required enormous wealth.

No wonder House Rodrik is called the overlord of the West.

Dominic gave a self-deprecating laugh. “A guilty conscience likely demands such measures.”

“Well, he’s notorious for his cruelty. It makes sense that he’s afraid of being stabbed in the back. He has to protect himself somehow.”

It was time to strike a blow against that cruelty. Ghislain examined the estate’s perimeter closely before asking, “You’ve got the layout of the mansion, right?”

“Yes. We’ve been preparing to rescue our families for a while, but we never found a way to pull it off.”

“Getting in is one thing, but getting out is the real problem. Dragging a bunch of civilians out would be nearly impossible.”

“Exactly. A direct assault is out of the question as well. Before we could even reach the hostages, the city garrison would swarm us. On top of that, we’ve never been able to confirm where the hostages are being held.”

Any plan to locate the hostages would inevitably require a fight.

The Drake Mercenary Corps couldn’t guarantee they could breach the estate’s defenses and rescue their families.

If their opponent had been any other noble, they might have considered brute force. But their enemy was the son of the most powerful overlord in the West.

Even if they succeeded in rescuing the hostages, they’d likely be hunted down and killed by House Rodrik. Fear of such retaliation had paralyzed them.

Ghislain nodded, understanding Dominic’s hesitation. Then he asked, “Does the mercenary corps own any buildings in the city?”

“Yes, quite a few. We’re involved in various enterprises here.”

“Let’s take a look.”

After touring several properties with Dominic, Ghislain selected one and said, “We’ll use this as our base of operations. Clear out the interior and secure the perimeter so no one can enter.”

“May I ask what you have in mind?”

“This location is ideal for infiltration.”

The building Ghislain chose wasn’t too far from Martin’s estate but not too close either. The surrounding area was relatively quiet, and there was a direct road leading out of the city for a quick escape.

It was a warehouse, primarily used for storage, with ample space for their plans.

Dominic, still puzzled, asked again, “Infiltration? How are we supposed to infiltrate from here? And how can you be sure where the hostages are?”

Ghislain spread out the estate’s layout and pointed to a building near the central mansion.

“The hostages are here.”

It was the building closest to the main mansion. Dominic stared at the map, baffled by Ghislain’s confidence.

“Are you sure? We even interrogated soldiers, but no one had any information.”

Ghislain smirked. “Trust me. I’m certain.”

He knew the secrets of the estate all too well.