The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 752: I Learned It from You (1)

The center of the Beast Forest was still steeped in a dark, ominous energy.

While the outer areas were being rapidly reclaimed, the central zone remained untouched and abandoned.

Before Ghislain collapsed, he had strictly prohibited anyone from entering it.

Now, a group of figures was slowly approaching that dangerous center.

An elf, hood pulled deep over his head, spoke cautiously.

“High Chief, going any further is dangerous.”

“......”

At the front of the group, Ereneth stared silently into the depths of the forest, filled with venomous decay.

Though Ghislain had led his army and cleared the monsters that once inhabited this place, the lingering rot was still overwhelming.

Even the strong would struggle to enter here. The moment one stepped in, they would have to battle the corruption itself.

Ereneth spoke in a low voice.

“Wait here for a moment.”

“High Chief! It’s far too dangerous in there!”

To that, Ereneth replied with a faint, wistful smile.

“This place... holds dear memories for me.”

“...Excuse me?”

“I’ll be back shortly. Just wait for me.”

She said no more and walked into the depths.

Chiiiiik...

The corruption surged toward her, but it didn’t affect her in the slightest.

Ereneth didn’t summon spirits to purify her surroundings. She didn’t even try to suppress the miasma.

She simply moved—like breathing—and the rot receded whenever it touched her.

Passing swiftly through the corrupted forest, she stepped onto charred, wounded ground.

There, before her, stretched a massive black [N O V E L I G H T] shroud.

Gaaahhhh...

The veil exhaled a continuous, sinister aura.

It swelled and pulsed like it was gasping in agony.

Ereneth silently approached it and reached out her hand.

Just as I thought...

The barrier was sealed shut.

Or rather, it was blocking the energy flowing outward from within.

“...Duke Fenris. Just how did you get inside this thing?”

Ereneth couldn’t bring herself to believe Ghislain’s story.

That was why she had stopped by for a moment, before leaving Ruthania—to confirm it herself.

She was still confused.

The Duke’s conversation with the Saintess, the dream, all of it.

“Was it really because of that necklace...?”

When Duke Fenris first acquired the Saintess’s necklace, she had pretended not to notice.

But she had known all along that he suspected her.

“My acting... is still clumsy, it seems.”

Ereneth closed her eyes.

Her old comrades had always told her—she was terrible at acting.

She’d bristle at that every time, because in her own mind, her performances were flawless.

But...

Yes, those days had been truly joyful.

Just thinking of them brought a smile to her lips.

They had fought to save the world, laughed together, protected one another.

It had been the most radiant of times.

So beautiful, it made the memories painful—so much so that she wished she could forget them.

A tear slid down Ereneth’s cheek.

“Duke Fenris... I know that necklace. It’s the one the previous High Chief gave to the Saintess.”

But she hadn’t said anything.

She couldn’t.

She didn’t want to.

Because that was a memory she needed to forget—a destiny that had already passed.

After gently brushing the veil a few more times, she turned away.

The Adversary’s power is growing stronger.

Her own strength was returning, nearing what it had been in her prime.

And that meant the Adversary’s strength was reviving, too.

Ever since Duke Fenris had collapsed, the rate of recovery had accelerated.

That strange coincidence kept gnawing at a corner of her heart.

But she quickly steeled herself.

Duke Fenris, whatever’s happening to you now... it no longer matters.

It was already the past.

Even if he discovered something, it would change nothing.

Ereneth muttered coldly,

“I will find the Adversary and destroy him. And wipe out every last remnant of the Salvation Order.”

Because that was the only way to make the sacrifices of a thousand years ago... mean something.

Step.

As she took a step forward, Ereneth suddenly staggered.

Drip. Drip...

Blood trickled from her nose.

Ereneth couldn’t understand.

“Me...?”

A nosebleed?

Unable to keep her balance?

Then a haze clouded her mind, like thoughts were tangling and twisting within.

“Kh...!”

A crushing pressure slammed into her, and she coughed up blood.

“This is...”

For the briefest moment, Ereneth felt it.

Something vast—something that transcended time—was interfering with her mind.

And...

The world was beginning to change.

***

As they traveled, Lionel relentlessly pestered Deneb.

“Give me back my divine power!”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You stole my divine power!”

“My divine power is the same as ever. I seriously have no idea what happened.”

Deneb truly believed what had happened that day was a miracle.

Her divine power was still barely a sliver of what it should have been.

Yet Iralniel had trusted her and handed over the Blessing Stone.

That fact alone made Deneb feel undeserving and overwhelmed with guilt.

So when Lionel kept demanding his divine power back, it left her at a complete loss.

Lionel, however, was tenacious.

“Give it back! My divine power!”

“I didn’t take it, and I don’t even know how I would return it.”

This daily squabble finally prompted Ghislain to intervene.

“Hey, it’s gone. What can you do? It’s not like divine power is something you can just hand off to someone else.”

“But I felt it! I saw it being absorbed by that lowly priest girl!”

“Oh, you’re probably just mistaken. That kind of thing doesn’t happen.”

Ghislain had asked Deneb several times, but she truly had no memory of anything like that occurring.

Still, there was one useful piece of information.

“She saw the darkness of the Salvation Order and thought it was nothing.”

And right after that, the miracle happened.

So Ghislain could make a rough guess at the situation.

This was the first time Deneb had been truly exposed to the Salvation Order’s energy.

It seemed being in direct contact with that dark energy was what triggered her awakening.

It made perfect sense.

Divine power and the Salvation Order’s energy were natural opposites.

And especially for a Saintess, the Salvation Order was her natural enemy.

She hadn’t fully awakened yet, but she had acquired the Blessing Stone.

Which meant—

A new condition had been met.

Now, Ghislain was curious what might happen when she once again encountered the Salvation Order’s power and fought against them.

That was all he could reasonably deduce for now.

As for why Lionel’s divine power had vanished—that was still a mystery.

Ghislain offered a suggestion.

“Since your divine power’s gone, why don’t you try training your mana cultivation method? Your family must’ve passed one down, right?”

“...What?”

“Just start from the beginning and train properly. You’ve got solid basics, so if I teach you, you’ll grow fast.”

Ghislain had no intention of bullying Lionel.

After all, Lionel had also been one of the hero’s companions fighting the Apostle in his dreams.

Of course Ghislain felt responsible for raising him up, too.

At that, Lionel burst into laughter.

“You? Teach me? A black mage? I admit you’re strong, but magic and swordsmanship are entirely different. Do you really think you could face me without magic?”

He was dead serious.

He had never actually seen Ghislain fight properly.

When they went to support the elves, it was the Death Knights who did the fighting.

Ghislain had only cast magic and eventually got hit by a priest.

So while Lionel acknowledged his real-world experience and strength, he figured it was all due to clever spell usage.

In his mind, Ghislain’s physical combat ability must be weak.

Hearing that, Ghislain gave a faint smile.

“Want to try it?”

“...What do you mean?”

“I won’t use magic. I won’t even use mana. Just pure physical strength and technique. Let’s go one-on-one.”

“Pfft!”

Lionel laughed reflexively—but only for a moment.

Soon, his eyes sharpened in fury as he glared at Ghislain.

“You’re mocking me because I lost my divine power and keep getting humiliated, aren’t you?”

“Well, not entirely.”

“If it’s not that, then why the hell would you insult me like this? Fine. I accept your challenge. But if you lose—what then?”

“What do you want?”

“Hand over the Blessing Stone immediately.”

Lionel had tried to take the Blessing Stone from Deneb as soon as they left the forest.

But Ghislain had blocked him, and Deneb hadn’t dared to go against his orders.

So Lionel had been silently seething ever since.

Ghislain nodded.

“Sure. I’ll hand it over right away. Anything else?”

“This group has no chain of command. I’ll take over as leader, and from now on, everyone follows my orders.”

“Of course. But if you lose, you’ll follow my orders without question. Actually—just join the mercenary corps. You’ll be the rookie.”

“Tch. Fine. Not that I expect a mercenary to keep their word, but I’m a knight. I swear it on my honor and the name of the Empire.”

Lionel drew his sword and raised his shield.

As long as Ghislain didn’t use magic—or even mana—he was confident he wouldn’t lose.

His family’s techniques and cultivation method were top-class, even within the Empire.

Still, there was one concern.

Even if I win, will that mercenary bastard really keep his word? He’ll probably just swarm me with numbers.

There was a good chance Ghislain wouldn’t honor the deal.

Mercenaries were, by nature, dishonorable scum.

Even so, Lionel wanted this fight.

Unforgivable. I’ll use this opportunity to put him in his place.

He had always been admired wherever he went—until now.

Ever since joining the mercenary corps, he’d felt like a fool.

He needed to vent his frustrations and take revenge for all the shame he’d endured.

Seeing Lionel fired up, Ghislain smirked.

“Hey, someone bring me a training stick. And a shield, too.”

Soon, the mercenaries brought Ghislain a suitable training stick and a small shield.

Lionel’s swordsmanship was built around shield-based defense—designed for holding the line or dragging duels into drawn-out endurance matches.

So Ghislain took up a shield himself, intending to meet Lionel on his own terms.

The sight of it made Lionel’s lip twitch.

“How arrogant...”

Shieldsmanship was completely different from swordsmanship.

To wield a shield properly, one had to train as long and hard as with a sword.

I’ve lived my entire life with a shield in hand!

Even during his first birthday, at the ceremonial selection held by his family, he had chosen the shield.

And now this black mage, who usually swung around a staff, was brazenly copying him—with a cheap little shield, no less.

It was unbearable. Another humiliation.

“I’ll show you your place!”

Thwack!

Lionel charged forward with force, raising his shield high.

His plan was to slam into Ghislain and break his balance right away.

He hurled his full weight behind the shield with fierce determination.

CLANG!

But Ghislain absorbed the blow without budging an inch.

Then he slightly angled his shield, letting Lionel’s momentum slide harmlessly to the side.

“...Huh?”

Caught off guard, Lionel lost his balance for a split second—and Ghislain’s stick immediately went for his head.

CLANG!

Lionel barely managed to block with his sword, retreating quickly and sucking in a sharp breath.

His face was twisted with shock and tension.

Was that just a fluke? It must’ve been. Yeah, it had to be.

The shield technique Ghislain had just used was precise and masterful.

But he was a black mage. There was no way he could handle high-level shieldsmanship.

Still flustered, Lionel glared as Ghislain gave his shield a casual flick.

“Your form seems a bit sloppy. Did you even learn it properly?”

“You bastard...”

Seething with rage, Lionel lowered his stance and raised his shield to strike again.

But once more, Ghislain met his attack with a controlled deflection.

CLANG!

Lionel’s balance crumbled again—and, as before, Ghislain’s stick came flying.

THWACK!

“Ghhk...!”

The blow struck Lionel’s arm, making him grimace in pain.

Still, true to his training, the knight retaliated right away.

CLANG!

Ghislain lifted his shield lightly and blocked it without effort.

Lionel didn’t stop.

He realized pausing even for a moment would be fatal.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

But Ghislain absorbed each strike calmly, unwavering.

His shield stood like a wall—solid, immovable.

No matter how fierce the attack, nothing got through.

And the more Lionel pressed, the more anxious he became.

W-Why? Why is he so good with a shield?!

It made no sense. He had never heard of a mage learning shield techniques.

What kind of black mage trains in this?

Yet he couldn’t deny what was right in front of him.

The way Ghislain used his shield—it was nearly flawless.

Then, Lionel noticed something even more disturbing.

The way Ghislain moved... it looked familiar.

Wait... don’t tell me...

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The shield movements, the fluid counterattacks—

They were exactly how he moved.

Like looking into a mirror.

Lionel muttered without meaning to,

“H-How... How do you know our family’s technique...?”

That damned black mage was using his family’s techniques... as if they were his own.