The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 629

Ziiing—!

"Ugh."

Julien instinctively clutched his head. The woman’s words felt like they were splitting his skull open.

Gritting his teeth, he asked again, “What are you saying?”

But the woman did not answer. She simply began to vanish into the darkness, her form dissipating gradually.

It was then Julien realized—this was not a being he could interact with.

It was merely a projection, a manifestation of energy that had infiltrated his mind.

He didn’t know who she was, but a possibility crossed his mind.

“The Saintess from a thousand years ago?”

The woman had worn a necklace—a necklace Julien recognized.

“A relic.”

It was the sacred relic Ghislain had acquired when he took control of the Ruthania Kingdom. Julien had seen Ghislain wear it many times.

That necklace had emitted an inexplicable light the day Julien and Ghislain first met. It had not done so since, but such a strange event was impossible to forget.

Julien sighed involuntarily.

Something incomprehensible had just happened to him. He briefly considered consulting Ghislain, but quickly dismissed the thought.

“It’s probably just a coincidence.”

Julien was aware of the brief moment Ghislain had looked at him, but he doubted Ghislain could perceive the shapeless energy he had encountered.

He likely glanced Julien's way only to check in with him, as the next move was his to make.

Julien had always handled everything on his own since childhood. Asking others for help still didn’t come naturally to him.

Moreover, the others were busy celebrating their victory over the dragon. There was no need to spread unnecessary unease.

Still, the fact that remnants of the dragon’s maddened energy had somehow attached to him left an unpleasant aftertaste.

And yet, something else gnawed at his mind.

Julien looked down at his own hand.

“Why did I do that?”

Arterion had clearly been trying to say something. Ghislain had seemed intent on hearing it.

There would have been no harm in listening to the end and then killing it. But at that moment, Julien had been overcome with a single thought: it had to die immediately.

So he struck.

“...Dangerous.”

That impulsive act—going against his usual deliberate nature—meant he was not in full control of his thoughts or body.

No matter how intense his feelings had been, he should have taken another moment to think. That had always been his way: calm, rational, calculating.

This had never happened before. Never had he felt such an intense, overwhelming hatred, even for a fleeting moment.

“...”

After pondering for a while, Julien shook his head. He resolved to observe himself more closely and uncover the true nature of this energy.

He could not allow it to affect him. He was confident he could suppress it.

Lifting his head, he looked forward.

“Waaaaaah!”

“We won!”

“We killed the dragon!”

Everyone around him was celebrating their victory. They had triumphed over an enemy unlike anything they had faced before—it was only natural for them to be ecstatic.

For a moment, Julien felt a renewed sense of admiration for Ghislain.

How had he known to prepare so perfectly?

It was as if he had fought a dragon before and knew exactly what to expect. Julien doubted he could have planned so meticulously.

“You really are... extraordinary.”

Despite all the hardships he had faced, Ghislain had never failed. That was why Julien always trusted his judgment without hesitation.

If something were to happen to him...

The thought crept into his mind that Ghislain would undoubtedly find a solution.

Julien turned his gaze toward Ghislain, who was sitting nearby.

He was smiling as he watched the others celebrate. Then, as if sensing Julien's gaze, he turned his head and met his eyes.

With a playful grin, Ghislain gave him a thumbs-up.

His ever-nonchalant demeanor made Julien chuckle despite himself.

***

Alfoy had a dream.

It was one he had often experienced since childhood—a dream that fueled his fanciful delusions.

? Kya-ha-ha-ha!

In the dream, a very young version of himself toddled clumsily through an enormous, luxurious mansion.

The mansion was grand and opulent, though its features were slightly blurred, making it difficult to discern every detail.

A large figure approached and scooped him up, hugging him tightly. The man rubbed his scruffy beard all over Alfoy’s face.

? Kya-ha-ha!

Young Alfoy laughed gleefully, prompting the man to bellow in a booming voice:

“This rascal is my pup! Oh, look at this precious little pup—adorable!”

In the dream, it felt natural, but when Alfoy woke, he always felt uneasy.

There was something distinctly unrefined about the man’s tone, entirely unlike what one would expect from a noble.

Still, Alfoy chose to ignore it. Others dismissed the dream as nonsense, but Alfoy refused to let it go.

He had to believe the dream was a memory from his infancy. Otherwise, his claim of being a noble’s child would have no justification.

Whenever he had that dream, it was always followed by another scene—one of him being swept away by water.

He would wake up startled each time, but today was different.

Crunch!

The water froze solid, turning into white ice. As he cried in terror, a massive face appeared before him.

Grrrrr…

It was a dragon. A dragon glared at him with glowing red eyes, its maw opening wide as if to devour him.

“Aaaaahhh!”

Alfoy jolted awake, screaming. His entire body was drenched in cold sweat.

Realizing it was just a dream, he finally calmed down.

“He’s awake!”

A voice shouted nearby. People rushed to surround him.

Alfoy blinked a few times, his vision filled with the sight of many faces peering down at him. It was an incredibly unpleasant sensation.

“What... what are you looking at... you bast—”

He muttered in a hoarse, almost lifeless voice, before his eyes shot open wide. At last, his senses returned.

“T-the dragon! What happened to the dragon?”

He sat up abruptly, prompting cheers from the crowd.

“He’s up!”
“Dragon Slayer!”
“Alfoy, you saved us!”
“Hey, dumbass! Are you okay?”

Flustered, Alfoy’s face turned bright red as he asked again.

“Did... did we really kill the dragon?”

Vanessa grabbed his hand and smiled.

“Yes, we did! It’s all thanks to you!”

Jerome, standing nearby with a look of wonder, added:

“You were incredible. How did you do it?”

Vanessa and Jerome had been stunned when they heard the full story.

For a brief moment, Alfoy had nullified the dragon’s magic—a feat even Vanessa hadn’t dared hope for.

But the dragon’s magic wasn’t a simple spell; it was an ongoing, environment-altering magic.

Nullifying such magic wasn’t just a matter of momentary disruption—it required either continuously overpowering the dragon’s mana or delivering a concentrated burst strong enough to shatter it.

For a 5th-circle mage, this should have been utterly impossible. It could only be described as a miracle.

Hearing the account, Alfoy’s pride swelled, and he puffed out his chest.

“Hmph. Of course it was possible. I’m me, after all.”

Though he feigned confidence, even Alfoy didn’t understand how he had done it.

At the time, he had been convinced it was impossible to nullify the dragon’s magic. He had thought he was going to die. Driven by sheer desperation, he had poured every ounce of his mana into the dragon.

And somehow, it had worked.

"As expected of the man who defeated a god," he thought smugly.

Despite his arrogance, no one reprimanded him this time.

Instead, the crowd lavished him with praise, making the area buzz with noise.

“Alfoy! Alfoy!”
“We knew you could do it!”
“This insufferable bastard actually pulled off something amazing!”

Even Ghislain clapped him on the shoulder, grinning.

“Well done, Dragon Slayer. This victory is thanks to you.”

“Hmph! Beating a dragon is nothing after beating a god,” Alfoy retorted with a smug grin.

Boom!

A heavy thud made Alfoy turn his head. Parniel had struck her mace into the ground and was glaring at him.

Alfoy quickly averted his eyes. In his excitement, he had forgotten not to say such things in front of Parniel.

Hastily, he changed the subject. After all, he had earned a reward and wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip away.

“A-anyway, we did kill it because of me, right?”

“Of course. Without you, we’d all be dead,” Ghislain confirmed.

Knowing Ghislain always rewarded merit, Alfoy seized the moment.

“Then give me a reward. I want to be free! I want to shed my slave status and live as a free man!”

“Oh...”

The crowd murmured in interest.

It made sense—no matter what Alfoy achieved, his slave status would always hold him back.

Ghislain crossed his arms, considering.

Alfoy had proven surprisingly useful in the past. From providing mana during battles to capturing rogue mages and contributing in major events, he had always managed to deliver results.

And now, he had worked a miracle in the dragon hunt.

Ghislain finally nodded, setting a condition.

“Fine. But until the continent stabilizes, you’ll stay in my territory and serve as the branch manager of the mage tower. I’ll release you from your slave status.”

“Yes!”

Alfoy clenched his fist and shouted in triumph. After over 300 years of gradually extended contracts, he was finally free from slavery.

Though he was still bound to Fenris territory, his status as a free man meant everything. He could retire peacefully when the time came.

Now that the war was nearly over, danger seemed a thing of the past.

“I’ll never fall for Claude’s schemes again!”

Alfoy resolved to reject anything Claude proposed in the future.

As Ghislain’s declaration spread, the crowd cheered once more.

“Alfoy is finally free!”
“I thought he’d die a slave!”
“This stubborn bastard really did it!”
“Congratulations, Alfoy!”

The atmosphere was jubilant. Alfoy’s slave status had been little more than a name for years, but it still carried hidden burdens.

Finally, he shouted with unrestrained joy:

“I’m freeee!”

The people’s perception of Alfoy had shifted. No longer was he the insolent slave; he was the Dragon Slayer who had earned his honor and freedom in one stroke.

Even Ghislain, after congratulating him, addressed the gathered troops.

“Let’s rest for a few days. You’ve all worked hard.”

There was no pressing matter at hand. The remnants of the Salvation Order were being hunted down, and the troops prepared for their return to Fenris territory.

“The war is almost over,” Ghislain murmured, overseeing the final stages of cleanup.

Meanwhile, news of Alfoy’s achievement reached Claude, who trembled as he read the report.

“Alfoy... killed a dragon and gained his freedom?!”

His hands shook, his face pale with disbelief.

“H-how could this happen...”

Alfoy’s emancipation was something Claude could not accept. Jealousy churned within him, driving him mad.

Then, as if struck by inspiration, Claude’s expression twisted into a devilish grin.

“Then I’ll just make him a slave again.”

Nearby, Wendy clicked her tongue in disapproval, her cold gaze fixed on Claude.

As expected, this man was utterly deranged.