The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 433: I Have No Choice but to Threaten Again (3)

Dark transformed into a raven and disappeared into the sky with Ghislain’s letter.

Immediately, Ghislain issued commands to his closest aides.

“The Northern Army won’t make it in time if we all move together. We’ll send only the Fenris mobile forces to the Northern Fortress.”

Currently, the Northern Army was stationed at the western edge of the kingdom, having just finished securing the central region before moving west. The eastern front was temporarily entrusted to the royal army and local lords.

To reach Kaipiler Fortress, the army would need to cross the western region. However, the Northern Army, largely composed of infantry, would be too slow. Only the mobile forces, highly trained in horsemanship, could arrive in time.

Gillian, concern etched on his face, asked,

“This rift has expanded unnoticed, consuming the entire northern plains. The number of riftspawn must be astronomical.”

“Of course,” Ghislain replied with a slight tilt of his head, as if calculating. “I’d estimate... around 500,000.”

The room fell silent, faces grim.

Riftspawn were significantly more powerful than regular soldiers. Half a million of them would be a nightmare.

But Ghislain remained unfazed.

“Don’t worry. Their numbers may be vast, but this time we’ll have the fortress as our base. They’re mindless beasts that charge without strategy. As long as we have enough time, we can take them down.”

The real threat was the Equidema. The riftspawn themselves could be dealt with using Fenris’s overwhelming firepower.

The main concern was how long it would take. If it were only about eliminating the rift, no one would have been this worried—after all, these soldiers were specialists in such operations.

Gillian pressed further,

“What if we send the mobile forces ahead to hold the line while the rest of the Northern Army catches up? Meanwhile, the nomads won’t stay idle.”

“Of course not. They’ve clearly allied with the Salvation Church; otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to create the rift. I’m certain they’ve mobilized every tribe for this.”

The nomads, having thrown their all into this battle, would undoubtedly amass tens of thousands of warriors.

Ghislain paused briefly, weighing his options, before shaking his head.

“No matter how I calculate it, the timing won’t work. By the time the Northern Army arrives, the battle will already be over—either we’ll have won or been wiped out.”

“If the army can’t join the rift battle, they could at least counter the nomads. Fenris alone can’t handle both threats.”

To fight 500,000 riftspawn, not only the mobile forces but also the 10,000 Fenris soldiers left in the domain would need to join the fray at the fortress.

But even if the Fenris forces stayed behind, they’d only number 10,000—far too few to face the nomads. At best, they could defend Fenris itself.

Meanwhile, the nomads would pillage and claim the defenseless northern territories.

The Northern Army had already deployed most of its forces. The royal army, trusting in the Northern Army, was entirely committed to the southern and eastern fronts.

This meant the nomads would have to be stopped at the northern gateway. However, the available forces were woefully insufficient for the task.

Ghislain smirked.

“They’re trying to destabilize us with this move, but it’s fine. Someone else will handle the nomads for us. We just need to deal with the rift quickly.”

“Someone else? Who could possibly...” Gillian began, then trailed off as realization struck.

“Don’t tell me...”

“Exactly. That someone.”

“Will they actually agree? They’re not the type to accept losses lightly.”

“That’s precisely why they’ll help. They hate losses so much that they’ll have no choice but to play along.”

Ghislain was confident. If this person didn’t assist now, their own ambitions would be jeopardized. They’d have to comply, even if reluctantly.

“Anyway, turning the Northern Army back now would be pointless. It’s better to make the most of what we can. Tenant.”

“Yes.”

“Take the Fenris forces to support the Northern Fortress. In the meantime, lead the Northern Army to block the rift. Can you manage?”

“Understood.”

Tenant had previously held the line against the rift in Ghislain’s stead. While he might struggle with the Equidema, he was more than capable of halting the riftspawn’s advance.

Just then, a messenger arrived from Claude.

“All remaining Fenris troops and weapons have been dispatched to the Northern Fortress. This letter is from the Lord Commander.”

Ghislain unfolded the letter, smirking at its exaggerated tone:

“If this place falls, we’re all doomed. We have no forces left. You’d better deal with the rift and stop the nomads fast. I’ve already packed to flee, but Wendy won’t let me leave...”

The letter was laced with melodramatic complaints. Ghislain chuckled.

“He prepared everything before I even asked.”

Claude had anticipated Ghislain’s moves perfectly, sending reinforcements to the Northern Fortress without hesitation. Say what you will, Claude was undeniably competent.

Ghislain mounted his dark warhorse and declared,

“Ferdium is in danger! Ride at full speed!”

The mobile forces, already aware of the stakes, charged forward with relentless determination. They knew if Ferdium fell, Fenris would be next.

Among them were many soldiers hailing from Ferdium. For them, protecting their homeland was non-negotiable.

And so, Ghislain and the mobile forces set out for the Northern Fortress.

Watching him leave in such urgency, Rosalyn sighed deeply.

“Good luck.”

Was there anyone in this kingdom busier than Ghislain? Probably not. Without him, the kingdom had no chance of overcoming this chaos.

And so, once again, she couldn’t bring herself to reprimand him.

All she could do, as always, was watch his retreating figure disappear into the horizon.

***

Amelia sat in her chair, biting her lip anxiously.

News had arrived of a rift expanding so aggressively that it threatened to engulf the Northern Fortress. At the same time, reports of the nomadic tribes mobilizing their forces reached her.

It didn’t take long for her to piece the situation together.

“This must be Raul’s doing.”

He had likely allied with the Salvation Church, using their resources to incite the nomads into action.

The timing, however, was too perfect to be coincidental.

“If the rift is left unchecked, it’ll grow beyond control.”

Abandoning the Northern Fortress and retreating was an option, but it would only delay the inevitable clash with the nomads. While holding the nomads at bay, the rift would continue to grow, leading to even more adversaries. It was almost certain that the rift would eventually consume Ferdium.

This was a path Ghislain and Zwalter would try their utmost to avoid. They despised seeing their people suffer.

Still, if the situation worsened, retreating would minimize losses. But the best course of action was clear.

“I’ll have to act.”

Amelia realized the optimal strategy: Ghislain would deal with the rift while she held back the nomads. Together, they could achieve the best outcome.

The problem was that she didn’t want to.

“...Why should I help him?”

She had no desire to assist Ghislain. Ultimately, he was an enemy she’d have to take down. That was the simple truth of her feelings.

Yet, there was one nagging reason she couldn’t ignore the situation.

“He hasn’t allied with the Ducal House yet.”

If Ferdium suffered severe damage, it would benefit the Ducal House, which still retained its full strength. In the future, when Amelia confronted the Ducal House, she would need both Ghislain and the Northern Army to have survived and fought them to mutual exhaustion.

The Royalists alone couldn’t weaken the Ducal House’s power. Only the combined might of the Northern Army and Ghislain could achieve that.

If the Northern Army lost its momentum now, Amelia would have to abandon the North and relocate her base to the East.

“Damn it...”

Amelia massaged her temples, frustrated by the situation. If things proceeded as Raul intended, she would be playing directly into his hands.

The thought alone was enough to irritate her. And as Ferdium’s losses grew, the Ducal House would become even stronger—a situation she couldn’t allow.

Still, she was reluctant to expend her resources to aid Ferdium.

“This is such a mess.”

She cared little about the nomads sweeping through the North. If she had to, she could hold them off herself or simply relocate her base.

But leaving the Ducal House unscathed? That was unacceptable. She knew all too well the extent of their power.

The Northern Army needed to be at full strength when they finally clashed with the Ducal House.

As Amelia mulled over whether to aid Ferdium, a raven suddenly flew into her chambers.

With a sharp whoosh, it darted toward her, only to be caught mid-air by Bernaph.

“Squawk! Let me go, you insolent fool! Do you even know who I am?”

“What the...?”

The talking raven startled Bernaph, who looked genuinely baffled. He had never seen anything like it.

“Wait... could this be...?”

Since Roderick’s forces had invaded the North, rumors had spread widely about Ghislain’s use of spirits. Many soldiers claimed to have seen a raven transform into a spirit, fueling the gossip.

“So, you’re the so-called spirit under the Count of Fenris?”

“Indeed! I am the mighty Dark! Release me at once, or face my wrath!”

“What is it with Fenris and their self-proclaimed ‘kings’? Every one of them is rude and bizarre. Can you actually curse people?”

Bernaph’s curiosity only annoyed Dark further.

“Of course, I can! My power will consume your soul! The creatures of the sky shall tear you limb from limb, and the beasts of the earth will drag you into—”

Before Dark could finish his tirade, Amelia’s icy voice cut him off.

“Enough. Bring him here.”

At her command, Bernaph carried the squawking Dark closer. The raven’s eyes gleamed as it spotted Amelia.

“So, you’re Amelia! I have a message from the Count of Fenris!”

Amelia regarded him coolly, her voice dripping with disdain.

“How very arrogant. It seems you take after your master.”

“I am a great being! Now, heed the words of Count Fenris!”

“I refuse.”

“What?”

“Whatever nonsense you’ve come to say, I’ll reject it outright. Your master is that kind of person, after all.”

“Well... that’s true, but...”

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested. Leave. Tell Ghislain that I won’t listen to anything coming from such an insolent creature.”

Dark blinked in confusion. He wasn’t used to this reaction. Everyone he’d encountered so far had either feared or respected Ghislain. This was a first.

“I still have to deliver the message, though. Fine, just take it!”

Dark flapped his wings to produce the letter, but before he could, something moved faster.

Meow!

Bastet, Amelia’s cat, leapt gracefully onto Bernaph’s arm and swiped at Dark with a flurry of tiny punches.

Thwack!

“Ack! What the—? What is this wretched creature?!”

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Dark squawked in surprise, but Bastet didn’t relent.

Thwack, thwack, thwack!

The feline’s relentless punches left Dark reeling.

“Stop it! Ow! Let me talk! I have a message to deliver! This cursed cat—!”

Meow!

Bastet continued her assault, unfazed by Dark’s protests.

Beaten senseless, Dark had a sudden realization.

“What if she refuses because of me? Ghislain will kill me!”

The severity of the situation dawned on him. If Amelia didn’t act and blamed her inaction on Dark’s behavior, the consequences would be dire.

“Count Fenris! Ow! Please! Ow! Hear me out! Ow! Just for a moment!”

For only the second time in his life, Dark’s tone turned respectful. The arrogant spirit was learning humility under Bastet’s relentless blows.

“Enough, Bastet.”

At Amelia’s command, the cat finally ceased her assault. Dark slumped in defeat, muttering under his breath.

“Curse you... wretched cat. I’ll have my revenge.”

Amelia flicked her fingers impatiently.

“Where’s the letter?”

Dark opened his beak and regurgitated a sealed letter. Formed of mana, his body made such storage possible.

“...”

Bernaph gingerly took the letter, shook it off, and handed it to Amelia.

As she read the letter, her face darkened.

“That bastard...”

As expected, the letter was filled with threats.