The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 548: Changing Course (3)

“Waaaargh!”

The Grimwell Army roared with confidence as they pressured the Atrodé forces.

The Atrodé troops, hastily gathered from various rebel groups, lacked cohesion. They fought as fragmented units, each acting independently, unable to work as a unified force.

Even so, their greater numbers and considerable combat experience allowed them to barely hold their own.

But the Grimwell soldiers were no strangers to battle either. Despite being outnumbered, their confidence in taking on the enemy head-on stemmed from one crucial factor.

Boom!

“Arghhh!”

Every time a hulking old man swung his sword, entire ranks of Atrodé soldiers were swept away.

Covered in blood, the old man roared at his men.

“We can win this! Don’t stop, keep pushing forward!”

“Waaaargh!”

Emboldened by his words, the Grimwell soldiers redoubled their efforts, wielding their weapons with even greater vigor.

This old man was none other than one of the three pillars of the Grimwell Kingdom—a living legend.

The indomitable Marquis Tristan, the veteran of a hundred battles.

Fwoom!

With a single step forward, Marquis Tristan swung his massive greatsword, unleashing a gale that tore through the ranks of the Atrodé soldiers. Those caught in the reverse flow of mana were shredded to pieces.

None could stand against Marquis Tristan.

Of course, the prolonged battle was starting to take its toll on him. Standing at the vanguard meant he was the first to bear the brunt of the enemy’s attacks, and the opposing army also had no shortage of skilled knights.

Nevertheless, like a raging lion, he charged forward, focusing solely on cutting down his enemies.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Bring utter ruin to the invaders who dare trespass on our land!”

Despite his injuries, Marquis Tristan showed no signs of faltering. His relentless assault broke the Atrodé army’s frontlines, forcing them into retreat.

He was an unyielding champion, a warlord whose presence had ensured countless victories against rebel forces.

This was why the Grimwell soldiers had dared to take the fight to the Atrodé army with such confidence.

Watching from a distance, Aiden licked his lips with amusement.

“That old geezer sure has energy to spare. He should be at home doting on his grandchildren.”

There was no denying Marquis Tristan’s prowess. For a swordsman to survive to such an age was proof of his monstrous skill.

It made sense why the Grimwell forces were so bold. They weren’t just gambling—they had played a major card with this move.

“And yet, I’m probably the only one on our side capable of dealing with him.”

Aiden, hailed as a genius from a young age, had grown up under the full support of the Salvation Order and the Duke of Reinster. If it came to a duel, he was confident it would be a good match.

But Aiden had no intention of fighting the old monster one-on-one. Dirtying his hands with such base, brutal combat was not to his taste.

Turning to the black-robed priests flanking him, he ordered, “Judges, I’ll need you to clip that old monster’s wings.”

The Atrodé 2nd Corps had only been allocated two priests—a testament to the Salvation Order’s faith in Aiden’s capabilities.

“We obey the will of the Executioner.”

“Leave it to us.”

With that, the two priests launched themselves toward Marquis Tristan.

Spotting the approaching priests, Marquis Tristan sneered.

“So, you’ve finally shown yourselves, you cursed wretches.”

Despite two transcendents barreling toward him, he showed no fear.

Boom!

Swinging his greatsword, he deflected the priests’ attacks.

He had anticipated their arrival. By leading the charge and expending his strength, he had deliberately drawn them out.

“So, you thought you could tire me out and strike!?”

At his shout, flags were raised across the battlefield. From the Grimwell ranks, elite knights began converging on Marquis Tristan’s position.

These were the finest warriors of the kingdom, who had been conserving their strength, preparing for this moment.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Supported by a dozen knights, Marquis Tristan swung his greatsword with devastating force.

The priests faltered. Marquis Tristan was a transcendent capable of holding his own against two such opponents.

With the addition of elite knights backing him, overwhelming him seemed an impossible feat.

“Damn it!”

“He’s still this strong!?”

The priests found themselves on the defensive, their attempts to eliminate the surrounding knights proving futile.

The knights were skilled, and any particularly dangerous attacks were intercepted by Marquis Tristan himself. The coordination between him and his men was nothing short of extraordinary.

Boom!

Laughing as he pressured the priests, Marquis Tristan taunted, “Do you think the knights I’ve personally trained would fall to half-baked transcendents like you?”

Marquis Tristan had faced countless rebel forces and Salvation Order priests in his time. He knew their capabilities all too well.

To counter their lack of transcendents, he had devised this coordinated attack strategy, honed over years of experience.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The two priests were steadily pushed into a corner. Their only consolation was that they had successfully drawn Marquis Tristan away from attacking the Atrodé forces.

Marquis Tristan’s skill and tactics were formidable. Without interference, this battle would undoubtedly end in the Atrodé army’s defeat.

That is, if not for Aiden, who was flanking the Grimwell forces.

Flash!

Clad in a brilliant blue cloak and astride a radiant white steed, Aiden cut an image of a hero descending onto the battlefield.

His arrival halted the movements of every soldier who had accompanied him.

Charging alone into enemy lines, Aiden swung his blade.

Zap!

A flash of blue light swept through the Grimwell ranks.

Boom!

The aftermath was utter devastation. The area was scorched, with not even the remains of the soldiers left behind.

It was an excessive display, performed purely to stage his dramatic entrance.

The effect was extraordinary. The Grimwell soldiers, who had been fighting fiercely moments ago, froze in stunned silence.

Surveying the chaos he had caused, Aiden smiled. Their reaction was precisely what he had hoped for.

“Ha... Look at them. All frozen in place.”

Raising his sword, he tilted his head back to face the sky, closing his eyes as if basking in divine light.

His gleaming armor seemed to radiate holiness, evoking an image of a divine messenger descending to deliver judgment.

With his eyes still closed, Aiden spoke, his voice resonating across the battlefield.

“Those who face death—remember this moment and revere me for eternity.”

Behind him, a man burst forth from the Atrodé army. This was the kingdom’s greatest painter, tasked with immortalizing Aiden’s every dramatic pose.

Though the painter’s strokes were rough and shaky due to his position on horseback, he paid no mind. Capturing the essence and atmosphere of the scene was all that mattered. He could refine the piece later.

Holding his pose a moment longer, Aiden finally turned his horse around.

“Hmm. That should suffice.”

His heroic narrative firmly established, it was time to rejoin the battle.

The Grimwell soldiers, momentarily dazed, snapped back to reality as their commander shouted.

“What are you gawking at?! # Nоvеlight # Attack! Attack now!”

“Waaaargh!”

Spurred by their leader, the soldiers charged at Aiden.

Grinning, Aiden extended his sword. Even this simple motion had been practiced to look effortlessly graceful.

“Go.”

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

The Silver Knights, who had been stationed slightly apart, began to move. Each of them was adorned in gleaming armor, a stunning sight to behold.

One hundred knights—every single one of them a seasoned warrior of high rank.

These were the very knights who, in Ghislain’s previous life, had aided Aiden in capturing the Mercenary King.

The elite of the Atrodé Kingdom had finally entered the fray.

Boom!

“Arghhh!”

With devastating force, the Silver Knights struck the flank of the Grimwell army, shattering their formation. Following them, Atrodé’s elite troops surged forward in an overwhelming tide.

Most of Grimwell’s skilled knights were concentrated in the frontlines, leaving the remainder unable to properly defend against the onslaught of the Silver Knights.

“Hold the line! Do whatever it takes to hold them back!”

The Grimwell commander’s desperate orders rang out, but the Silver Knights’ destructive power was unstoppable. In mere moments, they had torn apart the flank.

The battle had now become evenly matched again. The combined might of the Silver Knights and Atrodé’s elite forces had broken the Grimwell formation.

Marquis Tristan, fighting at the forefront, clenched his jaw as he recognized the shift in the tide.

“So, they’ve been hiding this level of power all along!”

This was a force unlike any rebel army he had faced before. No, even among all the knight orders he had encountered in his life, this was the strongest he had seen.

And there was another transcendent among them. Marquis Tristan drew upon even more of his mana.

He had prepared for the possibility of up to three transcendents being present on the battlefield. He believed this was a challenge he could still overcome.

“Push harder!”

He bellowed and swung his greatsword with all his might.

Boom!

The priests were forced further back, while the Grimwell knights fought with renewed fervor. However, the priests smirked even as they retreated.

‘Just a little longer.’

Marquis Tristan was already showing signs of exhaustion. If Aiden and the Silver Knights could buy more time, the momentum would shift firmly in their favor.

Marquis Tristan noticed this strategy and ground his teeth. They intended to pin him down while annihilating his flank.

But they had underestimated him.

“You dare to stall for time in front of me?!”

Fwoooom!

His face twisted with fury as his mana surged, erupting outward.

Marquis Tristan’s greatsword came crashing down with the force to cleave the heavens. Even his own knights, fighting beside him, instinctively stepped back in shock.

Boom!

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“Arghhh!”

The gale unleashed by Marquis Tristan’s strike was unstoppable. The two priests, their bodies battered and torn, were forced to retreat further.

The soldiers nearby, friend and foe alike, were swept away by the sheer power of his onslaught. Such was the fearsome might of Marquis Tristan.

His lips curled into a grimace as he glanced around. He had intended to protect his allies as he fought, but the situation had grown too dire for that.

His bloodshot eyes widened as he roared.

“Hold them back!”

It wasn’t just him who was tiring. The priests were also wounded and losing strength.

He had a contingency plan for such a scenario. The Grimwell knights quickly switched to a defensive formation, raising their shields.

Now, if the priests tried to attack, the knights would be ready to intercept them.

“I’ll be back soon! Hold the line, and victory will be ours!”

This time, it was their turn to delay. While the Grimwell knights stalled the priests, Marquis Tristan would destroy the enemy’s transcendent and knight order.

With terrifying speed, Marquis Tristan charged through his own ranks, heading toward the flank.

Ahead, he could see his soldiers being massacred by the enemy knights. He roared.

“Stop! I’ll deal with you myself.”

In an instant, he closed the distance and swung his greatsword at the Silver Knights.

Boom!

But his strike was intercepted by a shimmering blade. Aiden had appeared once more, blocking his attack.

Marquis Tristan glared at the man atop the radiant white horse.

“So, you’re the third transcendent.”

Aiden, still on horseback, smirked as he looked down at Tristan.

“Marquis Tristan. You seem rather exhausted.”

“I still have enough strength to kill you. Get off your horse now.”

“I’m not fond of stepping on filthy ground, but... if you insist.”

Aiden dismounted lightly, patting the flank of his prized white steed. The horse obediently trotted away from the battlefield.

Aiden turned to glance at Tristan, his expression calm but his words mocking.

“It would’ve been easier if you’d fought a little longer. But I suppose I’ll settle for this.”

“For an upstart, you’re quite clever.”

“I dislike brawls, you see. Consider yourself lucky—I’ve planned to personally take you down from the start. Someone of your caliber will do wonders for my reputation.”

“Reputation? You dare attack me for something so trivial? How insolent.”

At Tristan’s scathing retort, Aiden’s smile grew cruel.

“Yes, I must build it up. After all, I can’t stand that Duke of Fenris being more popular than me. It’s utterly intolerable.”

“Keep dreaming. You die here.”

Boom!

Before the words had even fully left his lips, their swords collided with a deafening crash.