The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 551: "Empathy" is Enough (2)

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!

“Aaaargh!”

With every swing of Ghislain’s hand axe, another Revolutionary member fell.

The rest of the mobile force barely needed to move—they only dealt with those who fled in their direction.

Though the Revolutionaries were notorious, most of them were no better than bandits. Their expertise lay in ambushes and pillaging.

Even with five hundred men, they were no match for Ghislain, one of the strongest individuals on the continent.

Crunch!

One strike per man.

Most of them couldn’t even scream before they died. For Ghislain, this was merely a warm-up.

Of course, there were exceptions.

Clang!

“Oh? Blocking me, are you?”

Occasionally, a decent fighter would manage to defend themselves.

Crunch!

But two strikes were usually enough to finish them.

Realizing they couldn’t escape, the Revolutionaries, consumed by desperation, began to scream.

“Kill him! Everyone, attack him at once!”

“That bastard’s comrades are just standing there watching! If we all rush him, we can take him down!”

“Do we look like fools to you? Let’s show him!”

They were no strangers to killing, their bloodshot eyes fixating on Ghislain as they charged. Instinctively, they aimed for the leader.

But instincts were all they had.

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch...

Before long, not a single Revolutionary was left standing—except for Tarim.

Ghislain wiped the blood from his chin and shook it off. His body was drenched in the blood of his enemies.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

Like Julien, he could fight cleanly, avoiding stains on his clothes. But Ghislain chose not to.

“This is what makes a fight enjoyable.”

He savored the chaos of combat and understood that his ferocity could influence the battle itself.

Thus, he didn’t bother trying to keep himself pristine.

Thinking about cleanliness, however, brought back an unpleasant memory.

“That bastard Aiden was even fussier than Julien.”

While Julien’s cleanliness was an innate habit, Aiden’s was a pathological obsession.

It was no surprise he cherished his title of “The Noble Knight.”

The absurdity of Aiden’s obsession being the very thing that propelled him to the level of a superhuman almost made Ghislain laugh.

After briefly reminiscing about his old enemy, Ghislain chuckled.

“I’ll see him soon enough.”

According to reports, Aiden was currently fighting in the Grimwell Kingdom. No doubt he was making a name for himself there, too.

As nauseatingly theatrical as he was, Aiden and his Silver Knights were undeniably formidable.

After all, wasn’t it the Mercenary King who had fallen to him in their past lives?

“That cheating bastard... If it had been one-on-one, I would’ve won.”

Even now, recalling that fight filled him with rage. Losing to someone so insufferable was a bitter pill to swallow.

Though his exhaustion from constant battles had left him vulnerable back then, the anger still lingered.

“This time, I’ll take your head. Just you wait.”

Having steeled his resolve, Ghislain pushed the unpleasant memory aside.

He had more pressing matters to attend to.

Ghislain approached Tarim, crouched down, and placed the blade of his hand axe against the man’s throat.

“Listen carefully. This hand axe is called ‘Empathy.’ I’m telling you this because I want you to empathize with me right now.”

“Ugh...”

“If I had known you’d split into so many groups, I would’ve divided my forces further.”

He was slightly regretful. While he had anticipated the Revolutionaries would move in small units, he hadn’t known exactly how fragmented they’d be.

Still, minimizing his own side’s casualties had been the priority, so he couldn’t complain.

“Anyway, you must have a gathering point. I’ll just head there and finish the rest of you off. Isn’t that right?”

“Ugh... Uh...”

Tarim trembled uncontrollably, his saliva mixing with his fear. None of this made sense to him.

Without waiting for an answer, Ghislain swung his hand axe again.

Crunch!

“Aaaargh!”

“Talk.”

“Gaaah! I’ll talk! Please! Just ask me anything—just stop!”

“Hm. Fine. What do you have to say?”

Tarim froze for a moment, trying to think. Then he remembered what Ghislain had mentioned earlier.

“Our meeting point! It’s Stonebrook Village! Everyone’s heading there!”

“Stonebrook, huh? Where’s that?”

Ghislain pulled out a map, scanning it. He quickly located the village but noticed something odd.

“With a force of ten thousand, how can you hide in such a small village?”

“It-it’s our village! We’ve taken it over! There’s an underground cavern big enough for large forces, and we have several hideouts nearby!”

“Oh?”

This was new information. Even in his past life, the Revolutionaries’ bases had remained largely unknown.

It made sense now why they were so elusive—they had cleverly hidden in plain sight, even paying taxes to avoid suspicion.

Stonebrook was likely just one of many similar strongholds. No wonder the Revolutionaries had been so hard to root out in his past life.

Nodding in understanding, Ghislain swung his hand axe again.

Crunch!

“Gaaah! I swear I don’t know anything else!”

“I didn’t even ask another question yet.”

“You were going to ask about our leader! I knew it!”

“You little bastard...”

Ghislain widened his eyes in amusement.

This guy was something else—answering questions before they were even asked.

He had already figured out what kind of person Ghislain was.

Ghislain couldn’t help but admire the man’s perceptiveness. For an enemy, Tarim was surprisingly impressive.

“So you really don’t know where your leader is?”

“I really don’t! Our leader’s incredibly secretive—he never reveals his whereabouts to avoid betrayal. You know how untrustworthy we are!”

“Fair point. Your boss is paranoid as hell. His name was Leonard, right?”

As Ghislain nodded, Tarim blinked rapidly in shock.

How did this man know Leonard’s name? Or that he was suspicious of everyone, even his own subordinates?

“Y-you know our leader?”

“More or less. Didn’t he stab the previous leader in the back to take over? People like that are always paranoid.”

Indeed, Leonard wasn’t the Revolutionaries’ original leader. As a former officer, he had staged a coup, killing the previous leader and all like-minded officers.

Since then, the Revolutionaries had abandoned their ideals, devolving into a gang of pillagers.

“How... how do you know all this?”

“I know everything.”

In his past life, Ghislain had clashed with the Revolutionaries several times. They had frequently emerged during periods of chaos, revealing more of their secrets with each defeat.

Yet, at this stage, such information should have been impossible to know.

And yet... Ghislain had spoken it all as if it were common knowledge.

Even the mobile force members around him nodded as if this were entirely normal.

Tarim was dumbfounded.

“He’s called a saint... Is he really receiving divine revelations?”

Recalling the ambush that had awaited them, Tarim couldn’t shake the thought that the rumors might be true.

Quick to adapt, he made up his mind.

You don’t lie to someone chosen by the gods.

Tarim dropped to his knees and began pleading.

“I didn’t realize you were a saint! Please, spare my life! I’ll swear loyalty to you! I’ve never killed anyone indiscriminately—I mostly trained the recruits!”

“You said you weren’t loyal, though.”

“Ah! No, that’s not what I meant! Ah!”

Tarim stammered, trying to backtrack, but his quick wits soon kicked in.

“I do serve the goddess Deanna sincerely! I would never deceive or go against a saint!”

A bandit claiming to worship the goddess of light and justice. Ghislain chuckled.

Encouraged, Tarim spoke more boldly.

“I’ll tell you everything! I won’t hide a single thing! Let me serve as your knight—no, even as a common soldier!”

Crunch!

“Gaaah! I’ll be your slave!”

Crunch!

“Aaaargh! I’m just an animal who can talk!”

“...This guy is truly something else.”

In Fenris, not just anyone could become a slave. For someone like Tarim to claim such a position would be an insult to the other slaves.

Unaware of this, Tarim quickly lowered himself further when Ghislain seemed displeased. Despite his current state, it was clear Tarim had potential. In a better environment, he might have amounted to something significant.

Ghislain raised his hand axe again with a casual motion.

“My name is Tarim!”

“Well, Tarim, then...”

“I’ll guide you along the fastest route! Faster than the one on the map!”

This guy really wasn’t ordinary.

Crunch!

“Gaaah! Why?!”

This time, even Tarim was baffled. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at Ghislain in disbelief.

Ghislain replied nonchalantly, “You’re empathizing with me too much. It’s unsettling, like you’ve crawled into my head.”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Tarim whimpered.

He realized he had truly met his match. First, Ghislain had demanded empathy, and now he was being punished for empathizing too much. Figuring out this lunatic’s mood would be a Herculean task.

No wonder the rumors about the Fenris Duke being a demon were so pervasive. Tarim vaguely remembered hearing whispers about the Duke’s wild youth, and now they seemed frighteningly accurate.

Ghislain straightened his back and spoke, “Listen. I don’t usually spare enemies, but if I think someone might be useful, I’ll keep them alive. Let’s see if you’re helpful enough for hunting down the Revolutionaries. Got it?”

“Yes! I understand!”

“Hey, get him some potions and patch him up.”

Since no priests were brought along, they had to resort to potions. Expensive as they were, Fenris had plenty of them to spare.

Tarim, now drenched in the potion, could only hobble along. While the surface wounds healed, the bones Ghislain had crushed didn’t mend completely.

Still, Tarim could use mana to force himself to move adequately.

Ghislain then summoned Dark and gave him instructions.

“Tell the others there’s no need to chase down the scattered remnants. We’re heading straight to where they’re gathering.”

The other units must have already taken care of their Revolutionary targets. Any survivors would likely converge at Stonebrook Village, where they could all be dealt with in one decisive blow.

Soon, the mobile force mounted their horses and began moving, guided by Tarim.

***

Stonebrook Village

Stonebrook Village was relatively larger than other villages, but it wasn’t big enough to be called a city.

The surrounding mountains and rugged terrain limited the flow of people in and out. Except for the occasional trading caravans, there wasn’t much traffic, leaving few opportunities for suspicion. The villagers paid their taxes diligently, so they had no reason to draw the ire of the local lord.

Recently, groups of able-bodied men had been steadily arriving in Stonebrook. Once in the village, they scattered and entered various houses. Even those loitering on the streets eventually disappeared without a trace.

From a mountain a short distance away, a man silently observed the village.

The man, stoic and sharp-featured, was Leonard, the leader of the Revolutionaries.

With only one subordinate accompanying him, Leonard was hiding on the mountainside, surveying the village below.

Though the mountain wasn’t particularly high, its vantage point allowed him to spy on parts of the village. The dense trees provided ample cover for concealment.

“Hmm...”

After days of observing, Leonard turned to his subordinate and spoke.

“The 17th Battalion has finally arrived. They took the longest route, so it makes sense they’d arrive later. But only ten battalions have made it so far. That means half of them still haven’t arrived.”

“...Something must have gone wrong,” the subordinate replied cautiously.

“There’s been no contact. No information has come through from other routes. What does that suggest to you?”

“...It could mean they were annihilated so thoroughly that no one survived to report it. Though such an outcome seems unlikely.”

It wasn’t impossible for one or two battalions to be discovered by the Allied Forces by chance. That’s precisely why Leonard had divided his forces into twenty battalions.

Even if the Allied Forces detected their movements and pursued them, losing ten battalions without any word was abnormal. They’d been explicitly ordered to retreat if confronted by regular troops.

But no survivors had returned, and no word had been sent.

“They must have been completely wiped out, to the point where they couldn’t even react... but how? It makes no sense,” Leonard said, his brow furrowing.

He had meticulously planned this operation after extensive deliberation, ensuring the highest chance of success.

If it had failed despite all ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) this, there could be only one explanation.

“Was there a leak?”

But who could have leaked the information? No one had been informed of the operation until it began.

“There’s something I’m missing.”

Leonard was certain that something was happening beyond his knowledge.

At times like this, it was better not to act. His instincts for danger were screaming at him to stay put.

“Retreat,” he ordered.

“What? What about the battalions that are already here?”

“Deliver the message. Tell them to withdraw quietly. We’ll regroup after gathering more information.”

The Revolutionaries had managed to evade suppression for so long largely due to Leonard’s cautious nature.

Just as his subordinate was about to move, a piece of the puzzle that Leonard had been missing fell into place.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

From afar, a military force approached like a gale.

The sheer momentum of the army felt as if it could tear apart everything in its path. Leonard immediately recognized the identity of this force.

“The Ruthanian Army? No... could it be the Fenris Duke?”

An army Leonard hadn’t anticipated was now bearing down on Stonebrook Village.