The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 657

"Ahhh!"
"What the—!"

The fighting paupers froze as people suddenly started dropping dead around them.

However, when they realized who the culprits were, their anger was swiftly replaced with fear. Standing before them were temple knights—figures so far above their station that they wouldn’t dare to even look them in the eye.

The fighting ceased, but the knights didn’t stop. They continued to mercilessly cut down the fleeing paupers.

"Spare me, please!"

The chaotic mob scattered in terror, but those too slow to escape were struck down without hesitation.

Deneb, witnessing the horrific scene, was overcome with shock and rushed forward.
"Stop this at once!"

The paupers had all fled, leaving only the lifeless bodies of those who hadn’t made it.

"How could this happen...?"

Desperate, Deneb knelt beside the wounded, releasing what little divine power she had to try and heal them. However, her weak divine power was insufficient to heal such severe injuries.

Wounds would close slightly, only to reopen moments later. Panicked and unsure of what else to do, she poured all her energy into her healing attempts.

The temple knights stood silently, watching her efforts without interference. Julien and Kyle, however, were tense, their hands resting on their weapons.

"Hey," Kyle whispered to Julien, "what the hell’s going on here?"
"I have no idea," Julien replied.

There were over ten temple knights present, far too many for the two of them to handle. Even if they managed to win, they’d be branded enemies of the church and hunted for the rest of their lives. No one in this era dared to openly oppose the church.

Deneb, tears streaming down her face, continued her frantic attempts to heal the injured.
"Please... Please, wake up..."

Ghislain observed the scene, glancing at the temple knights before focusing on Deneb.
"Just as I thought..."

As expected, there was a subtle but undeniable change in Deneb. Her divine power, though barely perceptible, had grown stronger.

"Is it because of her acts of kindness? Or is it something else...?"

Deneb had been using her divine power extensively for days, to the point of collapsing as soon as they returned to the inn. It was possible that her efforts had resulted in this small improvement in her divine power.

"Well, it doesn’t matter."

Regardless of the cause, Deneb’s divine power had increased, even if only slightly. That alone was enough to justify their time in this city.

A priest, dressed in luxurious robes, approached with a smug expression and spoke,
"I was curious about who was wasting precious divine power in this cesspool... Turns out it’s just a trainee priest."

Deneb looked up, her face contorted with anger.
"How... How can someone who serves the Goddess condone such actions?"

"What actions?" The priest responded with genuine confusion, as though the deaths of the paupers were completely inconsequential.

"You killed those people! How can you call yourself a servant of the Goddess when you commit acts that go against her will?" Deneb shouted, her voice trembling with fury.

The priest’s expression shifted briefly before he chuckled, an air of condescension in his tone.
"Such insolence from a mere trainee priest. What’s wrong with killing vermin? They’re parasites who leech off this city without paying taxes. Eliminating them is a service to the world."

"What... What are you saying?!"

"They’re criminals waiting to happen. Leaving them alive only invites trouble."

Deneb trembled with rage, unable to process the blatant disregard for human life.

While it was true that poverty often led to higher crime rates, not all paupers were criminals. If they were such a burden, local lords would have eradicated them long ago. Even impoverished peasants were valuable during wartime or for manual labor.

Yet the priest smiled, his tone indifferent.
"They blocked the path of a servant of the Goddess. Isn’t that enough reason to die?"

Deneb’s faith in the clergy was shaken to its core. Though she had grown up knowing that priests often wielded great power, witnessing such cruelty from a city priest was utterly alien to her sheltered upbringing.

Tears welled in her eyes as she glared at the priest.

"Where are you from?" the priest asked, his tone cold.
"The Barony of Viede," Deneb replied.

"Hah, a complete backwater. I’ll forgive your insolence this once, as you’re clearly ignorant of the ways of the world. Stay out of trouble and return to your temple."

"Please... heal these people," Deneb pleaded, her voice trembling.

"What did you say?"

"There are still people alive here. You can heal them—your divine power is far greater than mine."

The priest let out a dismissive laugh.
"Are you giving orders to the high priest of this city?"

"It’s not an order; it’s a request. Please, follow the will of the Goddess and help the wounded—"

"This is your final warning. Do not overstep your bounds, trainee. You’re testing my patience."

The priest’s voice grew cold, carrying an unspoken threat. Refusing an order from a high-ranking priest could lead to a formal punishment known as the "Rite of Correction," a process that ranged from public humiliation to outright execution.

Despite the danger, Deneb didn’t waver.
"If I’ve committed a sin, I’ll accept the consequences. But please..."

She took a deep breath and declared firmly,
"As a servant of the Goddess, fulfill your duty and help these people."

"Kill her," the priest ordered without hesitation.

The temple knights moved swiftly, drawing their weapons. To them, killing a trainee priest was just another task—one unlikely to provoke any repercussions.

A knight approached Deneb, sword raised.

Clang!

Julien stepped in, blocking the strike with his own blade. The knight’s eyes narrowed as he realized Julien wasn’t an ordinary opponent.

"You dare?!"

Clang! Clang!

Julien not only held his ground but began to push the knight back.

Seeing this, other knights joined the fray, forcing Kyle to leap into the battle as well.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Despite their skill, Julien and Kyle were outnumbered. Several knights slipped past them, heading straight for Deneb.

Deneb gripped her mace tightly, ready to fight, but her abilities were no match for trained knights.

Just as the situation seemed dire, Ghislain finally moved, sighing heavily.
"Enough of this nonsense. This is getting ridiculous."

With a flick of his staff, he struck down a knight approaching Deneb.

Thunk!

The knight crumpled to the ground, foaming at the mouth.

Before the others could react, Ghislain moved like the wind.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Wh-what the—?"

The remaining knights stared in shock as Ghislain incapacitated them one by one. His movements were swift and precise, breaking arms and legs but leaving no one dead.

Thud!

In mere moments, every knight was on the ground, groaning in pain.

The priest trembled, stammering,
"W-Who are you?!"

Ghislain smiled faintly.
"I’m just a passing adventurer from the Kingdom of Ruthania... or something like that."

"Do you think you’ll get away with this?! You’ve attacked the temple’s knights—"

"What are you going to do about it?" Ghislain interrupted, raising his staff threateningly.

The priest flinched but quickly noticed that none of the knights had been killed. Emboldened by this, he sneered.
"Hmph. Apologize now, and I might spare you. Your skills could even earn you a place as my personal guard."

"...What nonsense are you spouting?" Ghislain muttered, his expression darkening.

Thwack!
"Aargh!"

The priest staggered back, clutching his arm. Judging by the way it dangled limply, it was likely broken.

"You—you dare?!" he screamed, his face twisted in rage.

He raised his other hand, summoning divine power to heal himself. But before he could finish, Ghislain moved faster.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The priest’s other arm and both legs were shattered in an instant. He collapsed to the ground, wailing in pain.

"Aaaaaagh!"

The priest had lived a life of luxury, never once experiencing such agony. Writhing on the ground, he screamed at the top of his lungs,
"You’ll pay for this! The church’s knights and the lord’s army will hunt you down! You demon! You’ll face divine retribution!"

Ignoring the priest’s outburst, Ghislain turned to his companions and said,
"Let’s leave now."

Deneb glanced around with a pained expression, her eyes lingering on the injured and the dead.
"But… what about these people?"

Corpses littered the ground, and the injured lay groaning in agony. Those who had survived the chaos stared at Deneb and the priest with hollow eyes, their gazes filled with mistrust.

Ghislain’s voice was cold and unyielding.
"You’ve done enough. Don’t you see? There’s nothing more you can do for them."

"But… but…" Deneb stammered.

"If we stay any longer, you’ll die too. So will they. Misplaced acts of charity often lead to disaster."

Deneb lowered her head, unable to argue.

She had tried her best, but the people only fought amongst themselves. The priest had killed without hesitation.

No one showed respect or consideration for one another. All they cared about was their own gain.

She had always known the world was harsh, but witnessing it firsthand, in such a brutal and personal way, was a far cry from the stories she had heard.

Julien gently took Deneb’s arm.
"Let’s go. Ghislain is right."

If they stayed, the city guards or more knights from the temple would surely come. And then none of them would survive.

As they prepared to leave, Kyle cast a wary glance at Ghislain and asked,
"Are we really just going to leave? They’ll come after us for sure."

Kyle’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.

He was already considering finishing off the wounded knights and the priest. It would be cleaner that way—no loose ends.

In the chaos of the slums, disposing of bodies wouldn’t be difficult. The paupers might even help if given a share of the spoils.

Even if someone talked later, it would take time for the news to spread. By then, they could have already fled far away.

Ghislain smirked, clearly impressed by Kyle’s pragmatic thinking.
Still, there was no need for them to dirty their hands any further.

Ghislain glanced back over his shoulder and said,
"Don’t worry. We won’t need to lift a finger."

Without doing anything more, they left the city.

The priest, lying on the ground with his limbs shattered, continued to scream,
"Somebody! Bring reinforcements from the temple! Get the knights! I’ll have them executed—every single one of them!"

He summoned divine power to begin healing his broken arms, all the while bellowing orders.
"You worthless scum! Send word to the temple! Assemble the knights immediately!"

But the paupers didn’t move. They simply stood there, their dark eyes flicking between the priest and the fallen knights.

When some of the paupers picked up weapons and began approaching, the priest finally realized something was wrong.

"W-what are you doing? What are you thinking—?"

Thwack!

A rusty blade plunged into the priest’s throat.

The paupers attacked without hesitation, stabbing him repeatedly.

They knew all too well that the first target in any rebellion had to be the one with divine power.

"Grrkk…"

The priest’s eyes rolled back as he choked on his own blood. Within moments, the light faded from his eyes, and his body fell limp.

The knights, seeing the priest’s fate, struggled to rise, but the paupers were faster.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The paupers bashed in the knights’ heads with rocks and makeshift weapons. Unable to move due to their injuries, the knights were slaughtered where they lay.

"Alright, let’s clean this up quickly," one of the paupers said.
"Strip the bodies and split the loot," another added.

They removed the armor from the knights and the priest, taking anything of value—jewelry, coins, even scraps of fabric.

The corpses were dragged away to be buried or disposed of, and the paupers went about their business as if nothing had happened.

But soon enough, they started fighting amongst themselves again.

Not only over the supplies Ghislain’s group had distributed earlier but also over the spoils from the knights and the priest.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

"This is mine!"

The air was filled with shouts and the sound of fists and weapons colliding.

Any gratitude they might have felt for Deneb’s earlier kindness had long since vanished.

The supplies she had distributed, the divine power she had used to heal them—none of it mattered now.

Consumed by greed and selfishness, they had forgotten what they’d been given and what they’d lost.

Deneb had thought the world was becoming a hellish place, a result of the prolonged war against the demonic forces.

But she realized now that she had been mistaken.

The world wasn’t becoming hell.

It already was.

***

Julien and Deneb said nothing, simply continuing their silent march forward.

Only Kyle grumbled incessantly, venting his frustrations about the world and cursing at everything.

After they had put enough distance between themselves and the city, Ghislain finally spoke.
"Let’s stop with these half-baked acts of charity. If you want to help someone in passing, I won’t say anything. But pulling stunts like that, where you go all in playing the fool? That’s the last time. No more."

"…"

Deneb hung her head low. She couldn’t argue—her actions had only led to more people being injured and killed.

Ghislain continued, his tone sharp.
"If you’re so determined to help, then do it after you’ve become so strong that no one can touch you."

"…"

Deneb didn’t reply. Wasn’t that what they were already trying to do? Training hard, striving to grow stronger? But it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Then, Ghislain suddenly said something unexpected.
"From now on, we’re forming a mercenary group."

The abrupt declaration left the three of them wide-eyed in shock.