The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 549: Changing Course (4)

Marquis Tristan’s expression darkened as his sword clashed with Aiden’s.

This man...

The sheer force behind his opponent’s strikes was immense. For a brief moment, his sword was pushed back.

Even with a single exchange, it was clear how advanced Aiden’s skills were.

Had Tristan been in his prime condition, this could have been a fair and even duel.

But why was such a powerful figure only appearing now?

Did they deliberately wear me down?

Had countless soldiers been sent to their deaths just to exhaust him?

Tristan had never encountered such a transcendent before. If soldiers’ lives were treated so lightly, what was the point of having a transcendent in the first place?

A transcendent was meant to counter another transcendent. Only then could the army be protected.

This was why transcendents were classified as strategic weapons.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

With every clash of their swords, Marquis Tristan found himself being pushed back.

It was inevitable. He had been fighting relentlessly at the frontlines and had already faced two transcendents. Over half of his mana was depleted, and his body bore numerous injuries.

In contrast, Aiden was brimming with energy. His appearance was pristine, as if he had only just stepped onto the battlefield.

Boom!

Marquis Tristan deflected another attack and retreated slightly, panting heavily.

“So... this was your plan?”

“Yes, to take you down with ease,” Aiden replied with a smirk.

“You sacrificed so many soldiers’ lives just for that?”

“Of course. Isn’t it obvious? Soldiers exist to die.”

Aiden’s grin widened with glee. To him, the number of dead soldiers was inconsequential.

Even the Silver Knights, whom he valued highly, were expendable if necessary.

What mattered most was how much they could serve his interests.

A man of extreme self-centeredness and superiority, Aiden lived only for fame and adoration.

That was who he was.

Marquis Tristan ground his teeth. In his entire life, he had never encountered anyone so selfish.

“You’re a vile bastard. And you dare to call yourself a knight?”

“Chivalry? Duty of the strong? None of that matters. History only remembers the victors.”

“To lose to someone like you would be the ultimate disgrace.”

With a roar, Marquis Tristan swung his greatsword with all his remaining strength.

Boom!

The two clashed once again, the intensity of their battle creating a whirlwind of mana.

Before long, everyone around them had retreated. No one dared to intervene, knowing they would be caught in the storm of their duel.

As the fight between the two transcendents grew fiercer, the Silver Knights abruptly stopped fighting and retreated. Almost as if rehearsed, the Atrodé forces followed suit.

For the Grimwell forces, this was a moment of relief. The Silver Knights had been overwhelming, forcing them into a desperate position.

The commander of Grimwell’s flank shouted urgently.

“Pull back! Retreat for now!”

The same scene played out at the frontlines. Even the Salvation Order priests withdrew, shouting as they went.

“Fall back! Witness the Executioner’s duel!”

“Stand back and watch the knights’ battle!”

The Grimwell soldiers hesitated, confused.

They had been gaining the upper hand, yet the Atrodé forces withdrew as though offering them a chance.

The Grimwell commanders, seeing Marquis Tristan locked in combat with Aiden, ordered their troops to stand down.

Oddly enough, both sides now stood back to watch the duel.

Had Marquis Tristan been in better condition, he would have raged at the absurdity of it all. Who halts a battle to hold a duel?

But he had no time to think about that.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Ugh!”

Aiden’s strikes were relentless. Marquis Tristan could hardly catch his breath.

Seeing the faltering Marquis, Aiden let out a triumphant laugh.

“Hahaha! Is this all one of Grimwell’s three pillars can muster? Is this truly your strength? Pathetic!”

Had Marquis Tristan been at full strength, Aiden would have struggled. But now, Tristan was no more than a lion drained of its power.

As Marquis Tristan’s wounds deepened, the Grimwell soldiers’ expressions darkened.

Who was Marquis Tristan? He was their unshakable leader, the man who had always led them to victory.

They had never doubted his ability to win. But now, the situation was grim, and they all knew why.

“This isn’t a fair duel!”

“Fighting someone already wounded and exhausted—how disgraceful!”

“Protect the Marquis!”

The Grimwell knights surged forward, determined to disrupt the duel and save Marquis Tristan.

In response, the Atrodé forces moved again. Having regrouped during the lull, they now fought with renewed vigor.

Just as both armies were about to collide once more—

Crack!

Marquis Tristan’s greatsword slashed through Aiden’s pauldron.

Thud!

But Aiden’s sword pierced Marquis Tristan’s heart.

“Ugh!”

Marquis Tristan coughed up blood. He mustered all his strength, attempting to sever Aiden’s neck, but his blade stopped short.

Aiden glanced at Tristan’s trembling hand and grinned, baring his teeth.

“That was a good ‘duel,’ Marquis Tristan.”

“You... you...”

Marquis Tristan struggled to keep his eyes open, but with his heart pierced and his strength spent, he could no longer stand.

As Aiden withdrew his sword, Tristan’s body crumpled.

In that moment, Aiden swung his blade once more.

Slash!

Thud!

Only after his head was severed did Marquis Tristan’s body collapse to the ground.

“Hmph...”

Aiden shook the blood from his sword and glanced at his damaged pauldron. Tristan was already erased from his thoughts.

“Tsk. That was one of my favorite armors...”

The armor had been crafted by the kingdom’s finest artisans, a dazzling and elegant masterpiece. Its loss was a shame.

But merely replacing the pauldron wouldn’t suffice. Aiden’s obsessive perfectionism demanded a complete replacement.

The Grimwell soldiers stared in stunned silence at Aiden, who seemed more concerned about his armor than their fallen leader.

“The Marquis... is dead.”

“How could this happen...”

“That man... he killed the Marquis...”

Disbelief and despair filled their faces. Marquis Tristan, their unshakable hero and symbol of victory, was gone.

The Grimwell commanders realized their mistake. They should have pressed their advantage earlier.

With Marquis Tristan’s death, their morale plummeted. Worse, they had no one left to counter the enemy’s transcendent.

They had fallen into the trap of the enemy’s incomprehensible strategy and atmosphere.

As the dazed Grimwell soldiers stood frozen, Aiden raised his sword once more. It was a pose he had perfected after countless hours before a mirror.

A cruel smile spread across his face.

“Kill them all.”

“Waaaaargh!”

The Silver Knights and Atrodé forces surged forward once more. At the forefront, the Salvation Order priests unleashed torrents of dark energy.

The Grimwell soldiers tightened their grip on their weapons. They would fight again, but deep down, they knew.

They could no longer stop the overwhelming enemy before them.

Boom!

The armies clashed again. Exhausted and demoralized, the Grimwell forces quickly faltered under the rampaging priests.

The Silver Knights and Atrodé army broke through completely, tearing apart their formation.

The battle was effectively over. Aiden closed his eyes, savoring the metallic scent of blood that filled the air.

“This glorious battle will be sung by bards for eternity. All in honor of my noble self.”

It was a satisfying victory. Defeating the renowned Marquis Tristan would elevate Aiden’s fame even further.

But it wasn’t enough. His thoughts turned to someone else, and a burning thirst consumed him.

“Duke Fenris... I should have been the one to kill you.”

Originally, Aiden had been slated to face Duke Fenris during the Ruthania civil war.

But the timing hadn’t worked out. Helgenique’s rampage had forced him to divert his efforts elsewhere.

At the time, he hadn’t been overly concerned.

With Gatros, Kaien, and Raul on their side, defeat had seemed impossible.

Yet Duke Fenris had triumphed. His father, Marquis Ferdium, had even ascended as the King of Ruthania.

“To think he would rise so high and cast such a shadow...”

Now, Duke Fenris was one of the most renowned figures on the continent.

The Sword of Ruthania.

The Undefeated Grand Duke.

The Northern Conqueror.

The Plague Savior.

The Saint of Droughts.

The Pioneer of Innovation.

And...

The King of Mercenaries.

Even possessing just one of those glorious titles would have been an honor. Yet they continued to pile upon him, one after another.

Aiden couldn’t stand it.

“I refuse to accept this.”

If he had killed that man—Duke Fenris—back in the Ruthania Kingdom, all of those glorious titles would have been his.

But it didn’t matter. The wars raging across the continent were becoming more violent by the day.

Eventually, Duke Fenris would have no choice but to face him.

And when that moment came, he would personally kill him. Then, all the praise, all the glory, would be his alone.

“The protagonist of this world isn’t you, Duke Fenris. It’s me. I’ll make sure you understand that truth.”

Aiden closed his eyes, raised his head, and spread his arms wide as though he were basking in divine light.

And in that moment, an artist furiously sketched him, capturing the scene.

***

“Waaah! Victory is ours!”

The Atrodé Third Corps successfully seized another Grimwell Kingdom stronghold.

At this pace, surrounding the capital wouldn’t take much longer.

While there was the constraint of finishing before Duke Fenris arrived, the Atrodé army had no intention of conquering the entire kingdom.

Their objective was clear: secure the supply routes and key strategic positions necessary to encircle the capital.

A few more battles, and they would reach their goal.

The commander of the Third Corps, Count Kalmund, turned to the man beside him.

“Good work. Will you be moving separately now?”

“Yes,” the man replied with a curt nod.

Count Kalmund nodded as well, continuing, “Revolutionary Leader, your assistance has made things much easier. But is there really a need for you to leave now?”

The man was the leader of the Revolutionaries, a faction that had allied with the Salvation Order to overthrow the continent’s powers.

The Revolutionaries had struck a deal with the Salvation Order: after the war, they would claim a few kingdoms for themselves.

A new world, a new faith.

The Salvation Order and the Revolutionaries shared common goals.

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To the Revolutionary Leader, becoming a king was the ultimate dream. He didn’t care what religion he supported—as long as he achieved his goal.

To that end, this was the perfect opportunity to expand his power and eliminate obstacles standing in his way.

The greatest of those obstacles was Duke Fenris of Ruthania.

The Revolutionary Leader grinned slyly at Count Kalmund’s question and replied, “Grimwell Kingdom will fall easily even without us. I believe now is the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“The Allied Forces are likely gathering near Atrodé Kingdom while you’re engaged here. They wouldn’t expect the army attacking Grimwell to suddenly turn and ambush them.”

“That’s true.”

“So I plan to strike where they least expect it,” he added, his voice brimming with confidence.

“Hmm... that does make sense. But are you sure it’s wise?”

“I’ve already spoken with the priest. As long as you ensure we receive the agreed-upon rewards, there’s nothing to worry about.”

The plan to ambush the Allied Forces was the Revolutionary Leader’s idea.

Gatros had initially opposed it. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} The Allied Forces were vast in number, and there were more pressing priorities than simply reducing their strength.

However, the Revolutionary Leader had negotiated with conditions, promising to act only after capturing Grimwell’s key strongholds.

“I won’t engage them in direct combat. I simply plan to cut off their supply lines, cause enough damage, and withdraw.”

The Revolutionaries excelled in raids and ambushes. After all, no kingdom had yet succeeded in stopping them.

Right now, all eyes of the Allied Forces were focused on the Salvation Order and Atrodé Kingdom.

It was the perfect opportunity. This time, the Revolutionary Leader intended to deal a severe blow to the Allied Forces and prove his worth.

Count Kalmund nodded in understanding.

“If you sever their supply lines and deal enough damage, it will indeed work to our advantage. The plan is solid, but remember—Duke Fenris is among them.”

To the Salvation Order, Duke Fenris had become the most dangerous man on the continent. Even those who hadn’t fought him directly feared him.

At the mention of Fenris, the Revolutionary Leader let out an unsettling laugh.

“Duke Fenris may be exceptional, but when it comes to ambushes, no one surpasses me. Striking from behind is my specialty.”

The Revolutionaries had never fought in open battle, but they were unparalleled in ambush tactics.

However, there was one critical fact that the Revolutionary Leader did not know.

Ghislain Fenris’s greatest specialties were pursuit, ambush, and annihilation.