The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 546: Changing Course (1)

With Jerome, the mages, priests, and dwarves separated for their work, the speed of the mobile unit increased dramatically.

Thud thud thud thud!

Even while on the move, Ghislain continuously questioned the messenger who brought news about the Cult of Salvation.

“Are you sure the revolutionaries are involved?”

“Yes, sir. It’s clear those hidden bastards have all crawled out.”

“Did they head to Grimwell Kingdom as well?”

“Yes, most of them appear to have joined the march there.”

“Hmm, their numbers would certainly be considerable then.”

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The revolutionaries had been stirring trouble across the continent, but their successes were limited.

The harsh repression by kings and nobles, combined with the revolutionaries’ own descent into banditry, had alienated public support.

What had started as an ideological movement had degenerated into little more than a large-scale gang of raiders.

With the Cult of Salvation spreading chaos through fissures and internal wars in various nations, the revolutionaries found a perfect environment to thrive.

Ghislain chuckled.

“Looks like the cult’s desperate, working with trash like them.”

In the past, the Cult of Salvation never collaborated with the revolutionaries. Instead, they considered them a hindrance.

The cult had viewed the revolutionaries’ looting and violence as obstacles to their missionary work, leading to frequent clashes between the two groups.

But now, the two nuisances had joined forces—a development that Ghislain credited to his own actions.

‘The future really has changed a lot.’

When he first regressed, everything had unfolded within his expectations. By twisting events to his advantage, he ensured they favored him.

Though he still retained knowledge of the future, the altered course of events meant he could no longer be certain the same incidents would occur.

‘Then again, that was the point.’

The aim had been to reach a point where he no longer needed to rely on knowledge of the future. Now, he commanded the strongest army on the continent.

That power had been built using his foreknowledge, allowing him to amass strength faster than in his previous life.

From here on, brute strength would suffice to crush any opposition.

‘Still, it’s not as if what I know has become useless.’

In his past life, Ghislain had clashed with the revolutionaries several times. He knew exactly who led the organization.

Though he hadn’t been able to annihilate them—preoccupied as he was with fighting fissure monsters—the revolutionary leader had proven a formidable foe.

‘That guy was cunning and meticulous.’

Hardened by years of raiding, the revolutionary leader wouldn’t act predictably. His direct unit, in particular, excelled in mobility and ambush tactics.

Ghislain smirked as he unfolded a map atop his horse.

“Change of course.”

The new destination lay between Grimwell and Atrode Kingdoms—a territory they would inevitably have to pass through.

Ghislain sent a new directive to Claude through Dark.

“Prepare for ambushes. Once I arrive, we’ll commence our advance. Make sure to secure strategic points and supply routes beforehand.”

― Ugh, why is it always me going back and forth?

Dark grumbled for a bit before transforming into a raven and flying off.

The mobile unit didn’t question Ghislain’s orders. When he altered their course, they simply followed.

Neither Julian nor Parniel raised objections either. They placed complete trust in Ghislain when it came to warfare.

Only one person had something to say.

At the very rear, struggling to keep her horse moving, Elena pouted.

“Ugh, I told you we shouldn’t keep running around like this!”

Her complaints weren’t just directed at Ghislain—they stemmed from concern for her poor horse.

Heeheehee...

Elena’s mount, despite being among the strongest and most robust in the mobile unit, was perpetually exhausted.

The blame lay with the enormous warhammer she carried—a weapon so heavy that it strained even the sturdiest of steeds.

To compensate, Elena had to bring along three extra horses to rotate during travel. She even fed them more potions than the average soldier consumed.

She had repeatedly begged Ghislain to address this issue.

― I’m good enough with a rapier now! Just let me switch already!

― Nope. Reducing your combat power would be a loss for everyone, including you. Why would you want to make yourself weaker?

― I’m already suffering because of you! Do you even know what people call me now?

― Don’t care. Listen up: weakening you is a national loss. I’ll even get Father to pass a law saying Elena can’t use lightweight weapons.

― Argh! You’re the worst!

No matter how much she protested, Ghislain never allowed her to change her weapon. As a result, Elena was perpetually grumpy.

But she wasn’t one to give up easily. As her brother, Ghislain should’ve known better—Elena had her own plans.

‘Don’t think your reign will last forever.’

With a villainous smirk, Elena plotted in silence.

She often trained with Parniel, whose combat style suited her best.

In Elena’s eyes, Parniel was one of the few who could hold her own against Ghislain in a fight.

This gave Elena hope. After all, she shared the same divine power as Parniel.

‘Just wait. If I play the long game, I’ll win eventually.’

Her durability was already °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° approaching inhuman levels, much like Parniel’s.

She knew she wasn’t ready yet. But with enough real-world experience and diligent training, the day would come.

‘And when that day comes, I’ll bash his head in with this hammer.’

After that, she vowed to switch to a rapier and wield it with elegance.

Elena’s ambitions burned brightly within her.

***

Grimwell Kingdom.

This nation had excelled in halting the fissures and pushing back rebel forces, earning a reputation as a stronghold.

Thanks to these achievements, the morale of its soldiers was exceptionally high. They believed that the current war would soon come to an end, just like their past victories.

"Do not fear! As always, we shall emerge victorious!"

At the commander’s rallying cry, the troops stationed at the fortress stood tall with confidence.

Before them stood a significant enemy force—approximately 100,000 troops, five times their 20,000-strong defense.

Yet the soldiers wore self-assured expressions.

‘We’ve won every time before.’

‘We’ll win again this time.’

‘The other fronts will hold just as well.’

The Atrode forces were divided into three legions, advancing strategically to encircle the Grimwell royal castle.

War wasn’t merely about charging headlong at the enemy—it required securing supply routes and strategic positions.

Their ultimate goal was to capture the king, and to do so, they needed to claim key positions en route.

Gatros, reflecting on his previous defeat in the Ruthania Kingdom, had adopted a more cautious approach. No longer blinded by arrogance, he relied on methodical strategy.

"The objective is the royal castle," he declared. "But we must advance swiftly. I’ll entrust you with full command since I lack expertise in military affairs. Deploy me wherever you see fit, even at the forefront of battle."

Gatros addressed a stern-faced middle-aged man before him.

"Leave it to me. I’ll ensure the quickest possible resolution."

Count Vipenvelt, the Atrode army’s commander-in-chief, bowed respectfully.

A celebrated tactician who had played a crucial role in Atrode Kingdom's conquests, Vipenvelt was also Duke Leinster’s most trusted vassal.

Under his leadership, the troops swiftly reorganized and prepared for battle.

"Soldiers, ready the ladders. Neutralize the enemy atop the walls and prepare for an assault. Mages..."

The Atrode forces were overwhelming in numbers, and Count Vipenvelt, familiar with the Cult of Salvation’s priests, fully understood their capabilities.

"Let the priests take the lead."

The cult had sent five high-ranking priests, and at Vipenvelt’s command, they fearlessly advanced toward the fortress.

"What are those guys doing?"

"They’re flying toward us—they must be the Cult of Salvation’s supers."

"Only five of them? Surely they’re here to surrender."

The defenders initially watched in disbelief. While the priests were undoubtedly powerful, the fortress was well-equipped with knights and mages.

No matter how strong the priests were, it seemed absurd to think they could overwhelm the defenders alone.

"Why are you all standing around? Fire! Attack them!"

Fwoosh!

A barrage of arrows rained down from the fortress. Yet, shrouded in dark energy, the priests deflected the attacks with ease as they continued their advance.

As they reached the fortress walls, the priests unleashed their power.

BOOOOOM!

Dark energy exploded from their bodies, spreading in thousands of strands that enveloped the skies above the fortress.

The cursed light, the wail of the abyss.

When unleashed by five high-ranking priests simultaneously, the range of devastation was massive, casting a shadow over the entire fortress.

The soldiers atop the walls froze, their expressions twisted in terror.

"W-what... how...?"

Someone muttered in disbelief.

They recognized the technique the priests had used. A similar spell had been cast by a single Cult of Salvation priest during a previous battle, causing significant destruction.

But it was widely known as a last resort—a technique so dangerous it risked the priest’s life.

Yet here were five priests, recklessly deploying such a technique.

Before the defenders could make sense of it, the dark energy rained down on the fortress.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!

"AAAAARGH!"

Soldiers screamed as they fell, unable to withstand the overwhelming attack.

Even the supers among the defenders were forced to focus entirely on defense. Ordinary soldiers had no hope of surviving the onslaught.

The fortress commander shouted desperately.

"Mages! Counterattack! Quickly!"

The enemy hadn’t blocked the defenders' ability to cast magic. Taking advantage of this, the Grimwell mages unleashed their spells on the priests.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The Grimwell mages were formidable, both in skill and numbers. Under their assault, the priests were forced to retreat, their defensive energies weakening.

"Gah!"

"Fall back! Quickly!"

The priests had expended more than half their strength in their initial attack. Without sufficient energy, even supers became vulnerable.

Though battered and exhausted, the priests fled swiftly, shielding themselves with what little energy they had left.

The fortress commander, gritting his teeth, watched them retreat.

"Those bastards dared to charge straight at us!"

Supers were typically heavily guarded by their allies to prevent them from being targeted and killed.

But the enemy had exploited that very assumption, using the priests as bait.

"Don’t stop! Keep attacking! Make them regret it!"

The commander barked orders as the mages continued to pursue the fleeing priests with relentless spells.

As he watched them retreat, he exhaled deeply.

"If only we’d managed to kill one of them..."

Still, the priests had withdrawn with significant injuries and depleted strength. Without their support, the enemy’s numerical advantage would be easier to manage.

Despite the heavy damage inflicted on the fortress, the commander believed they could hold out until reinforcements arrived.

But the true attack from the Atrode army began at that moment.

"Begin," Vipenvelt ordered calmly.

At his command, the Atrode mages launched their assault.

BOOOOM!

While the Grimwell mages had been focused on attacking the priests, the Atrode mages seized the opportunity to strike.

"AAAAARGH!"

"It’s a magical attack!"

"Defend! Quickly, raise the magical barrier again!"

Though the Grimwell mages scrambled to reestablish their defenses, the damage had already been done. Many soldiers had been lost in the opening salvo.

"H-how could this happen...?"

The fortress commander stared in shock, realizing the priests had been used as bait.

It was a reckless tactic that risked losing precious supers. Yet, the enemy had executed it flawlessly.

The opposing commander, Count Vipenvelt, was a bold and calculating strategist.

Calmly, he issued his next command.

"Priests, you’ll need to act as bait once more. I’ll assign knights to support you."

"Understood."

Unlike others who might protect supers at all costs, Vipenvelt treated them as just another unit in his arsenal.

For him, even supers were expendable if it meant securing victory.

"My apologies," he said. "But for the sake of triumph, everything must be utilized."

"Ah, no wonder the Duke holds you in such high regard."

Gatros, observing Vipenvelt’s ruthlessness, smiled approvingly.

Ruthania’s strength wasn’t solely due to Ghislain’s might. The unconventional strategies and overwhelming power of their forces were equally formidable.

To counter such an enemy required equally exceptional leadership, and Vipenvelt was more than capable.

"I’m counting on you," Gatros said. "Do whatever you deem necessary, and I’ll unleash havoc wherever you need me."

With a cruel smile, Gatros flew toward the fortress.