The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 677

While Ghislain was energetically (perhaps too energetically) active in another time, only a few days had passed in reality. At first, Belinda had been filled with worry, but now she looked at Ghislain with a perplexed expression.

Despite her initial concerns, Ghislain slept peacefully, as if nothing was wrong. That alone might have kept her worried, but something else made it hard to stay anxious.

"What could possibly be so delightful?"

Even in his sleep, Ghislain smiled faintly several times. The smile was subtle, but it was unmistakable.

"What kind of dream is he having?"

It wasn't just a good dream—if Belinda had seen the vivid scenes Ghislain was experiencing, she might have clutched her forehead in disbelief. Although he had been lying down for days, his body showed no signs of deterioration. If anything, it seemed unnervingly fine.

For someone who frequently dealt with corpses and grimoires, even Belinda found it strange. "How can this be?"

Normally, someone in a prolonged unconscious state would begin to waste away. But Ghislain’s body remained in perfect condition, as if he were merely resting.

Unbeknownst to everyone, it was the divine power of the saintess within Ghislain that was protecting him. Should his body experience any harm or danger, Ghislain would immediately awaken. However, no one knew this, and no one dared to test it.

Thus, they all watched over him, half-concerned, half-fascinated. Meanwhile, they didn’t stop searching for answers to his condition. Belinda, in particular, returned to her tower and pored over countless tomes of magic.

“There has to be a reason why Ghislain suddenly ended up like this.”

Before he collapsed, Ghislain hadn’t been able to explain much. Even he hadn’t been certain what would happen. Fortunately, he’d shared some crucial information about his dreams before losing consciousness.

The hero, the saintess, and their companions—these figures seemed closely tied to the people currently by Ghislain’s side. Particularly, one of the hero's companions from a thousand years ago bore a strong resemblance to the founder of the Tower of Radiance.

And then there was what the saintess had said in the veil.

"We will meet again."

Ereneth, too, had examined Ghislain and left a cryptic statement:

— The Duke of Fenris has no consciousness of his own.

— Instead, the saintess’s divine power resides within him.

— I saw a strange ‘door’ there.

— It seems his consciousness was drawn into that door.

Jerome began piecing the clues together.

“The saintess said she would meet him again.”

“The saintess’s divine power resides within Ghislain’s consciousness.”

“His consciousness was pulled through a mysterious door.”

“That door must have been opened by the saintess’s divine power.”

“And… the saintess is from a thousand years ago. To meet her again…”

Jerome’s hand trembled as he wrote down his thoughts.

“Could it be… that Ghislain’s consciousness has traveled a thousand years into the past?”

It seemed plausible. Ghislain had often dreamed about scenes from his previous life a thousand years ago. If that were true, it could mean that he wasn’t merely dreaming now—he was truly witnessing those events firsthand.

“Wait, even if that’s possible… there’s a problem.”

If the hypothesis was correct, only Ghislain’s consciousness had traveled. He wouldn’t have a body to act in the past. If he were only a spectator, why had the saintess said they would meet again? Moreover, such a state wouldn’t allow him to exist properly in the world. The rules of existence wouldn’t permit it, and he’d be expelled before long.

“No, this doesn’t make sense. But if it doesn’t, then how do we explain the current situation?”

Even stretching plausibility, the idea of reincarnation or past lives might offer some explanation. Yet these concepts remained unproven hypotheses, with even churches and mage towers divided on the matter.

Jerome paused as a memory surfaced—something the people of Fenris had once joked about.

— "The young master used to say he had died and come back to life. No one believed him, so he eventually stopped saying it."

Claude had even chimed in at the time:

— "But with how absurdly he succeeds at everything, sometimes it feels like he’s someone who already knows all the answers! Of course, that’s crazy talk! But isn’t not going crazy around him crazier?"

— "You were already a bit crazy when I first met you."

— "That’s because of the lord!"

At the time, everyone had laughed it off. But now Jerome couldn’t dismiss even those trivial remarks. He recalled stories about someone in his mage tower who had said similar “crazy” things.

It was related to the founder of the Tower of Radiance.

— "They say the founder could see the future. Honestly, the founder was a bit eccentric, claiming to have seen the future or being possessed by someone from the future… even making statements that reversed cause and effect."

Jerome mulled over the words. If those legends were true, then his hypothesis gained weight.

“Could someone from the future truly possess someone in the past…?”

Jerome’s mind buzzed with possibilities. He combed through the mage tower’s records, hoping to find anything about the founder. Most of the texts contained nothing but the self-congratulatory musings of past masters or unrelated content.

His teacher’s notes, for instance, were filled with random anecdotes about fine dining, dating advice, and other irrelevant topics. Still, Jerome searched obsessively, driven by the thought that he might uncover a missed clue.

Then, he stumbled upon an unfamiliar book tucked away in the library.

“What’s this?”

A chill ran down his spine. Jerome had spent his entire life in the mage tower. He had skimmed through every book here at least once, but he couldn’t recall ever seeing this one. Why was it here now?

With trembling hands, he pulled the book off the shelf. Though it was old, preservation magic kept its contents intact. Jerome slowly opened the book, his face tense.

Thud.

He dropped it almost immediately, stunned by its contents.

***

Jerome immediately took the book and returned to Ruthania. Knowing that everyone needed to be present, he had sent letters ahead of time. The key figures of the Fenris estate, who had been busy with their respective duties, began gathering one by one on the day of Jerome’s return.

Others, slightly delayed, arrived with tense expressions, having been summoned by Jerome.

Belinda, noticing his pale face, asked, “You don’t look well. Has something happened recently?”

“There’s been plenty,” Jerome sighed. “With the lord unconscious, we’ve had to make all the decisions and carry everything out ourselves.”

Ghislain was the most critical decision-maker in the estate. His absence was a significant issue. Although they publicly announced that he was focusing on training, rumors couldn’t be completely silenced.

Fortunately, with the war over and Zvalter governing the kingdom well, there hadn’t been significant chaos. However, the workload was immense.

The aftermath of a long war required extensive restoration efforts. Stabilizing newly acquired territories was no small task either.

While war might have been the realm of knights, post-war recovery fell squarely on the shoulders of administrators. People like Claude and the rest of the officials were working relentlessly.

Belinda chuckled lightly before asking again, “At least most of the high-ranking officials are your academy peers, so talking with them must be easy, right? They’re your friends. Didn’t they all gather recently to unwind and catch up?”

Claude frowned and shook his head. “Ugh, they’re not the same as before. It’s nothing like when we were academy students, full of innocence.”

“Why not? They’ve gained experience and are probably better at their jobs now. It’s only natural that they’ve changed since their student days.”

The alumni Claude brought on board were now high-ranking officials, having helped build up the Fenris estate from its early days.

“That’s not what I mean. They’ve grown too worldly. Being here, living comfortably, and dealing with society have stained them.”

“What do you mean by ‘stained’?”

“All they ever talk about is money. Money this, money that… Ugh, it’s frustrating. Is that the only reason we gather? Honestly, isn’t that pathetic?”

“Well… yes, that’s true.”

“With the lord unconscious and post-war recovery pressing, you’d think we’d talk about more constructive things. But no, it’s just endless talk about money. It’s ridiculous. They’re my peers, but they’re disappointing.”

“Well… everyone has responsibilities now, and money is important. We’re well-compensated because the work is tough, but is that not enough?” Belinda asked with a hint of concern. Ghislain’s governing philosophy was to ensure sufficient rewards to prevent dissatisfaction among the administrators.

Claude sighed deeply. “That’s why I snapped and told them off.”

“What did you say?”

“I told them I’d grind them down.”

“...”

“If they’re complaining about money, I’ll grind them into shape—figuratively speaking, of course! Ugh, I’m sick of all the talk about debts and money. Can’t money just fall from the sky?”

Claude was grappling with financial difficulties. The territory was still recovering from the war, and debts hadn’t been fully repaid.

He had borrowed a little from his peers, using the estate’s combined authority, but even that hadn’t been enough to cover the gaps. Every day felt like a struggle.

He’d even sent a letter to Amelia, secretly asking for help repaying some loans, only to be met with outright refusal.

“...”

Belinda glanced at Wendy, who stood behind Claude.

Wendy merely shook her head, her tired expression suggesting Claude was beyond saving.

Others stared at Claude in silence, unsure of how to respond.

As everyone exchanged glances and pondered, Jerome finally arrived.

After brief greetings, all eyes turned to Jerome, filled with curiosity about what he might have discovered.

Belinda spoke first, her tone urgent. “You said you think you know what’s happened to the lord? What do you mean? What did you find out?”

Others, equally curious, watched Jerome with expectant expressions.

Jerome paused, organizing his thoughts. On the way back, he had repeatedly debated how to explain this. It would require a lengthy explanation and solid evidence to convince them.

But Jerome decided to cut straight to the point.

“Please, don’t be alarmed. Based on my research…”

He took a deep breath, looked around at everyone, and continued.

“It seems that Ghislain’s consciousness… has traveled to the past.”

Everyone froze, their mouths agape at the unexpected statement.

Belinda’s voice trembled as she asked, “The past? What do you mean? Our lord isn’t some man stuck in the past!”

The sheer absurdity of it made her blurt out nonsense. It was hard to believe.

Jerome, after taking a few deep breaths, delivered an even more shocking revelation.

“A thousand years ago.”