The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 675

“Arghhhh!”
Basilude screamed in agony as his leg snapped under Ghislain’s blow, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Julien, who had been ready to sever the dark mage’s neck, hesitated and stopped his blade just short of Basilude’s throat.

Drip.
A thin red line formed on Basilude’s neck, a single drop of blood tracing its path. He gasped for air, terror evident in his wide eyes. Somehow, his life had been spared.

Ghislain, resting his staff atop Basilude’s head, spoke calmly.
“It looks like this is over.”

“S-spare me!” Basilude stammered, his voice trembling. “I’m a 6th-circle dark mage. If you keep me alive, I can be of use to you!”

“You don’t seem very useful for a 6th-circle mage,” Ghislain replied bluntly.

His observation was genuine. When Vanessa, another 6th-circle mage, fought, she was capable of turning the tide of entire battles. Even accounting for the knights who supported her, her combat instincts were on an entirely different level.

In comparison, Basilude’s spellcasting and mana control were, frankly, pathetic.

Basilude, his face twisted with indignation, tried to defend himself.
“T-that’s only because your combat style is so… unorthodox!”

From the relentless barrage of spells at a distance to the wild swings of his staff up close, Ghislain’s methods were unlike anything Basilude had ever encountered. No mage fought like this—it was a realm beyond his comprehension.

Ghislain smirked. “First, get rid of the undead.”

“A-alright,” Basilude replied quickly.

At this point, less than half of his undead army remained. Deneb, Kyle, and the knights of Nodehill had fought fiercely, cutting them down relentlessly. Without Basilude’s direct support, the undead were no match for the trained soldiers.

With a mental command, Basilude ordered the remaining undead to collapse. The lifeless bodies slumped to the ground, inert until he re-infused them with mana.

As the battlefield quieted, Deneb and Kyle sank to the ground, utterly exhausted. Having fought for so long, surrounded by enemies and allies alike, their fatigue was palpable.

The soldiers who had been herding the undead noticed the shift in the battle.

“Yeahhhhhh!”
“The dark mage has been captured!”
“We’ve won!”

Cheers erupted as the soldiers lowered their weapons. Not a single life had been lost—a miraculous outcome.

Among them, Andrew was overwhelmed with joy, unable to contain his excitement.
After two failed attempts to subdue Basilude, this victory felt almost too good to be true. The sheer strength of Julien’s mercenaries had been firmly imprinted on everyone’s minds.

Amid the soldiers’ celebrations, Basilude’s desperate voice cut through.
“P-please, let me go! I swear I won’t return to this land. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you!”

Ghislain gave him a sly grin.
“You mentioned something about spellbooks earlier?”

“Yes, yes! I have many! I’ve been collecting them—if it’s spellbooks you want, they’re all yours. I can even teach you magic!”

To Basilude, this seemed like an excellent offer. Gaining the tutelage of a 6th-circle mage was a rare opportunity for any aspiring spellcaster.

“That must be why they didn’t kill me outright. They’re after my knowledge!” Basilude thought, a faint smile of hope spreading across his face.

But Ghislain’s expression remained unimpressed.
“I don’t learn from people weaker than me.”

“What?! That’s only because of your bizarre combat style! My circle is higher than yours! Surely, I know more advanced spells!” Basilude sputtered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

Ghislain ignored him and asked a different question.
“So, why were you trying to take over this territory?”

“I-it was so I could do whatever I wanted with it!”

“And by ‘whatever,’ you mean?”

“I’m a dark mage! To grow stronger faster, I need… test subjects.”

Unlike other mages who required decades of training to advance, dark mages could sacrifice others to accelerate their growth. This temptation often led them down a dark path.

Ghislain, already aware of this, pressed further.
“So, you planned to take over this territory to collect test subjects at your leisure? That’s the only reason?”

“Y-yes! What other reason could there be?”

“Liar,” Ghislain said, his tone cold. “Ziko told me you were approached by someone a year ago. You’ve been planning this since then. Who was it, and what did they tell you?”

Basilude flinched, his eyes darting nervously.
“D-did Ziko tell you that?”

“Yes. Now, answer me,” Ghislain demanded.

“I-I…” Basilude hesitated.

“Julien, cut him down.”

Julien raised his blade without hesitation, prompting Basilude to shut his eyes tightly and shout,
“I don’t know exactly who it was! But I have a suspicion!”

“Spit it out,” Ghislain said, his voice like ice.

“I-I think… it was a priest from the Demonic Realm!”

“What?” Ghislain’s voice sharpened, and the soldiers around him gasped.

The Demonic Realm’s priests, often linked to the Salvation Order, were universally feared. Their actions had plunged the continent into endless wars, and no one alive was ignorant of their infamy.

Basilude hurriedly continued,
“He claimed to be a dark mage like me, but something was off. I’m not a fool—I could tell his magic wasn’t ordinary dark magic.”

“Go on,” Ghislain urged.

“There was a power in him I couldn’t even begin to rival. If I had refused his offer, I’m sure he would’ve killed me on the spot. So, I accepted. After all, his proposal wasn’t bad for me.”

“And what did he want?”

“Chaos.”

“Chaos?”

“Yes,” Basilude confirmed. “He wanted to plunge the world into chaos. For a dark mage like me, a chaotic world is beneficial, so I had no reason to refuse.”

“And what did you get in return?”

“Various spellbooks, monsters, gold coins, jewels, and other rare items—I received many things that helped me increase my mana quickly,” Basilude confessed.

Ghislain frowned deeply. Even for a dark mage, collaborating with the Demonic Realm was crossing a line.

“You don’t know what that bastard’s true goal is, do you? The Salvation Order kills anyone who isn’t one of them, even dark mages like you. You think you’d be an exception?”

“I know! I know that!” Basilude cried out, his voice trembling. “But what harm could it do to take over a small barony? It wouldn’t affect the bigger picture, would it? If a war with the Demonic Realm broke out, I planned to step away quietly.”

Ghislain clicked his tongue and shook his head. This is the problem.

Basilude’s reasoning reflected the mindset of countless others: “What harm could I do? I’m just one person.” But it wasn’t just Basilude. Across the land, dark mages, bandits, and greedy nobles were making the same calculations, plunging the world into chaos piece by piece.

The Salvation Order’s plan was clear—they were sowing discord everywhere. The more chaotic the continent became, the greater their advantage when war finally erupted.

Pale and trembling, Basilude pleaded,
“L-let’s discuss this later. Please, just heal me first!”

With one arm severed and his leg shattered, Basilude was in excruciating pain. Though he had used magic to suppress the worst of it, the agony was overwhelming him.

Cold sweat dripped from his face, and his body trembled uncontrollably as the pain intensified.

Ghislain raised his staff and brought it down on Basilude’s remaining shoulder with a sickening crunch.

Crack!
“Arghhhh!”

Basilude collapsed, writhing in agony. Ghislain grabbed the dark mage’s jaw and forced him to look up.
“Look into my eyes.”

Ziiing—!
Their gazes locked, and a strange light flickered between them. Basilude’s expression went blank for a moment, but then he grimaced, his face contorted in pain.

Ghislain clicked his tongue in frustration.
“As expected, it doesn’t work.”

Unlike Ziko, Basilude couldn’t be mentally dominated. Reaching the 6th circle required not just talent but also incredible effort and insight.

Basilude had crossed that threshold, even if his character was weak. The years of discipline he had invested had built an unconscious mental wall, a barrier Ghislain couldn’t break through with ordinary means.

He sighed and gave up on using mental domination.
No matter. I have other ways to extract the truth.

With a swift motion, Ghislain picked up a knight’s sword from nearby and shattered it into shards.

“Wait! That’s my sword!” the knight exclaimed, his face pale.

It wasn’t the first time Ghislain had done this, and the knight looked almost ready to cry. In such chaotic times, weapons were expensive, and replacing them was no easy task.

Andrew, the young lord of Nodehill, stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on the knight’s shoulder.
“I’ll see to it that you’re given a better one. For now, follow the mage’s orders without question.”

The knight nodded reluctantly, his expression brightening slightly at the promise of a new weapon.
“Thank you, my lord.”

Ghislain, ignoring the exchange, began jamming the shards of the broken sword into Basilude’s body.

“Arghhhh!” Basilude screamed, writhing in pain.

“Got anything else you’re hiding?” Ghislain asked coldly.

“I-I told you everything! There’s nothing else!”

“Think harder. Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything? Did you arrange to meet that bastard again?”

“H-he said he’d come back if I managed to secure the barony. He promised more support!”

“What kind of support?”

“I don’t know! That’s all he said! I swear! Arghhh!”

Ghislain pressed him further, but Basilude’s answers remained consistent. Finally, Ghislain stepped back, seemingly satisfied.

He gave Julien a subtle nod.

Swish!
Without hesitation, Julien swung his blade, severing Basilude’s neck in a single stroke.

The dark mage’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Julien sheathed his sword and spoke in a calm, measured tone,
“The dark mage… is dead.”

“Waaaaahhhh!”

Cheers erupted from the soldiers. Lord Andrew looked on with a mixture of relief and joy.

Though the ending had been abrupt, the terror that had plagued the barony was finally over. The soldiers shouted praises for Julien’s mercenaries.

“Julien’s mercenaries are the best!”
“They’re unbelievably strong!”
“Four people managed to take down a 6th-circle dark mage and hundreds of undead!”

The soldiers marveled at their strength. In truth, all they had done was herd the undead into a tight formation. The rest was handled by Julien and his team.

Sitting on the ground, Kyle grumbled,
“We worked just as hard, but they’re getting all the praise.”

“True,” Deneb replied with a bright smile. “But at least we won without losing anyone. That’s what matters.”

Deneb didn’t care about credit. For her, defeating evil and protecting people was enough.

While the soldiers celebrated, Ghislain watched Julien quietly.

No matter how many times I see it… this guy…

Julien had a strange duality. He was soft-hearted, easily taken advantage of, and reluctant to hurt others. Yet in battle, he transformed into a cold, decisive warrior, cutting down enemies without hesitation.

Ghislain had never seen Julien falter during combat, and that consistency impressed him.

It’s not easy to be like that, Ghislain thought.

He remembered their first meeting. Even then, Julien had been slicing through bandits with a calm precision that belied his inexperience.

For someone of Julien’s skill level, his lack of hesitation was remarkable.

Well, it’s something I can teach him to control later, Ghislain mused. For now, Julien’s decisiveness was an asset.

After all, Julien was destined to become more than just a warrior. He was someone who would help save the world.

But in the back of his mind, Ghislain couldn’t shake one lingering thought.

Then why… why did future Ereneth and Astrion call Julien the Adversary?

Every time he remembered their words, a heavy weight settled in his chest.