The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 690

Baron Andrew stammered as he spoke to the envoy.

“Th-this makes no sense! It was just a disagreement over the contract price with the mercenary corps, nothing more!”

“Hah! Raising the hiring fee by threefold is an insult to Count Crest! How can we stand by and tolerate such disrespect?”

“Then you should settle it with the mercenary corps, not attack me!”

Andrew’s face was filled with indignation. In this harsh world, he had done his best to live quietly, avoiding any trouble.

The Barony of Nodehill was small and resource-poor, a place no other lords coveted. As long as he didn’t offend anyone, he could survive in peace.

And yet, here he was, faced with a declaration of war over such an absurd reason. It was maddening.

The envoy responded with a condescending look, as though Andrew’s confusion was unwarranted.

“You have a close relationship with the Julien Mercenary Corps, my lord. A master is responsible for the actions of those beneath them.”

“I am not their master!”

“But you are their employer, are you not?”

“Their contract with me is already over. We’re just on friendly terms.”

“Then consider this the cost of your friendship.”

The envoy’s words were outrageously impertinent for someone of his rank. Yet, Andrew and his vassals swallowed their anger, unable to challenge him.

In an era where power dictated right and wrong, weakness was a crime.

Andrew pleaded desperately.

“Even so, how can you justify starting a war over this? The other nobles won’t stand idly by!”

“Who, pray tell, would dare oppose us?”

Andrew fell silent at the envoy’s sharp retort. While the pretext for war was both ridiculous and forced, the envoy wasn’t wrong.

No noble in the region would dare challenge Count Crest. Even if nobles from other regions condemned his actions, it would be long after the dust had settled.

By then, it would be too late. Crest might face some verbal criticism, but Andrew’s barony would already be destroyed, and he would likely be dead.

Realizing the futility of his position, Andrew’s face grew gaunt. His vassals, similarly pale, sat silently, their anger overshadowed by fear and worry.

Seeing that he had thoroughly intimidated them, the envoy smiled slyly and spoke again.

“There is... a way to avoid this.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything to stop this war. Please, just tell me.”

Andrew bowed low, humbling himself before the envoy. It was a humiliating sight for a noble, but he had no other choice.

Power was on the envoy’s side, and in this world, the lackeys of powerful lords held more sway than powerless nobles.

With an arrogant expression, the envoy revealed the supposed solution.

“This entire issue stems from the arrogance of the Julien Mercenary Corps.”

“And?”

“Therefore, if the Julien Mercenary Corps submits to Count Crest’s will...”

“Submits?”

“Or, if you align yourself with us and punish them, all will be resolved. Naturally, you’d also participate in the subsequent war effort.”

Andrew’s face twisted in disbelief. This wasn’t a solution; it was extortion.

Punishing the mercenary corps meant betraying those who had helped him. It was an attack on his honor.

If the mercenary corps refused to comply, the envoy was essentially demanding that Andrew provide his own troops instead.

Andrew clenched his fists, his body trembling with suppressed rage. Even if he wanted to strike down the envoy on the spot, he couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, Andrew forced himself to speak calmly.

“The Julien Mercenary Corps has done nothing wrong. How can you ask me to attack those who have committed no crime?”

“Then you’ll have to bear the consequences yourself.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong either!”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

The envoy’s casual response made it clear that Andrew had only two options: convince the mercenary corps to comply, or fail and provide troops to Crest’s army.

That was the law of the land, the truth of their world. The envoy firmly believed in his own logic.

Andrew glared at the envoy for a long moment before finally speaking.

“Stay here for now. I’ll speak with the Julien Mercenary Corps and see what can be done.”

“Very well. But don’t take too long—I can’t promise we’ll wait patiently.”

“I understand. I’ll decide as quickly as possible. Wait here.”

The envoy agreed and stayed behind as Andrew hurried to meet with the Julien Mercenary Corps.

Raising his voice, Andrew explained the situation.

“What should I do? They’re telling me to attack you! If not, they demand that your mercenary corps join Count Crest’s war.”

The leaders of the mercenary corps, including Ghislain, were unsurprised. After all, Ghislain had already predicted this scenario.

After listening to Andrew’s desperate plea, Ghislain asked calmly,

“What do you want to do, my lord?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to fight the Count, but I can’t force you to join the war either. I’ve already heard that you rejected his commission.”

“There’s always the option of joining forces with Count Crest and punishing us, just as he demands,” Ghislain remarked with a teasing tone.

Andrew’s face flushed with shock as he exclaimed,

“I could never do that! How could I betray my benefactors? I am not that kind of man!”

Tyron smirked at Andrew’s declaration. He had dealt with countless nobles in his time as a mercenary and knew their true nature well.

Baron Andrew was a noble like any other. Even if he spoke grandly now, he’d likely scheme behind their backs to save himself.

Tyron voiced his thoughts bluntly.

“Baron Andrew, you’re in a tough spot. Why don’t we just leave the area? You can pretend to chase us down afterward.”

Ghislain shook his head.

“No, that’s just a temporary fix. It might avoid the immediate crisis, but then the baron would be forced to fight on Swipel’s side in our place.”

If the Julien Mercenary Corps disappeared, Andrew would have to provide replacement troops. That wouldn’t be favorable for him either.

Realizing the dire reality of the situation, Andrew sighed heavily.

“I suppose there’s no other choice. Leave this place as quickly as possible. I’ll negotiate to provide resources instead of participating in the war.”

For Andrew, the best solution would have been for the Julien Mercenary Corps to simply accept Crest’s commission.

But he couldn’t bring himself to make such a selfish demand.

Nor could he fight in their place. Crest would undoubtedly place his soldiers at the front, turning them into cannon fodder.

“I can’t let my soldiers die meaninglessly. I’ll speak to Baron Raks and borrow a significant sum of money to offer Crest instead.”

"Hmm…"

Ghislain nodded. Indeed, with that much money coming from the Raks territory’s gold mines, Count Crest might let things slide “just this once.”

However, Andrew’s proposal was far from a long-term solution.

“If you do this, you might avoid trouble this time. But not the next.”

“The next…?”

“Yes. Do you think Count Crest will stop at dealing with Count Swipel?”

“He’s only prioritizing Swipel now because the baron is still holding out. Once he’s dealt with, Crest will move to claim Raks’ territory. And do you think he’ll leave Nodehill, Raks’ ally, alone after that?”

Andrew’s face fell. Ghislain was right. Nodehill and Raks were allies, and Crest would use that as an excuse to absorb Nodehill as well.

The territories were practically connected, making them easy to manage. There was no reason for Crest not to take them.

Andrew’s expression turned grim. Even if he avoided disaster for now, the future seemed bleak. It felt like his destruction was inevitable.

“Then… what should I do?”

Ghislain’s eyes sparkled as he made his suggestion.

“My lord, have you ever considered aiming higher?”

“Huh? Aiming higher?”

“Why not become a count yourself?”

“A count…”

Andrew, with his straightforward personality, momentarily pictured himself as a count. Then he laughed hollowly.

“Well, sure, being a count would be great. I’ve always wanted that.”

“Then why not make it happen this time?”

“And how would I do that?”

“It’s simple. You fight and defeat Count Crest, and take his territory for yourself.”

“…”

The Julien Mercenary Corps was already preparing to confront Crest.

None of the mercenaries reacted with surprise to Ghislain’s bold suggestion—they had anticipated this.

Ghislain wasn’t joking. He was serious.

Nobles like Andrew and Leo were rare in this world, and Ghislain had decided to nurture them into powerful figures within the kingdom. But it all depended on Andrew’s resolve.

Andrew’s trembling gaze met Ghislain’s. He could see that Ghislain was not speaking in jest.

“Can we… win?”

“Of course.”

“I know how strong the Julien Mercenary Corps is, but the numbers are just too uneven…”

“Ask Baron Raks for reinforcements. He doesn’t have much money or resources, so it might not help much, but he has no choice. He knows he’s next.”

Leo, despite the wealth generated by the Raks territory’s gold mines, was cautious and anxious. Even with his growing resources, his lack of manpower and production capacity was a constant source of worry.

While he had been hiring mercenaries and recruiting soldiers, the pace was slow. Upon hearing that Crest intended to invade Nodehill, Leo would have no choice but to contribute forces. He couldn’t ignore the threat.

Still, even with Raks’ reinforcements, defeating Crest was another matter entirely.

Andrew, ever pragmatic, pointed out the problem.

“Even with our combined forces, including the Julien Mercenary Corps, we’d barely reach 3,000. It’s not enough.”

“My lord.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve told you before, we will win. Leave it to me.”

“…”

“Trust me.”

Andrew stared at Ghislain, searching for any hesitation or doubt in his eyes. There was none—Ghislain’s gaze was steady, full of unshakable confidence.

That unwavering determination inspired Andrew. He wanted to entrust his fate to Ghislain, even if it meant risking his life.

Better to fight and possibly die than live as a puppet under Crest’s oppressive rule. Andrew was well aware of Crest’s infamy.

If Crest took over, the territory would be devastated, the people tormented. Andrew’s choice was clear.

Even though the odds were slim, there was no chance of success without a fight.

After a moment of contemplation, Andrew made his decision—for himself and for his people.

Andrew smiled faintly and said,

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

“A wise decision, my lord. Sometimes, you have to return fire to those who’ve wronged you.”

“If we’re going to fight, we’ll do it on our terms.”

Andrew stood up, his fiery resolve evident. He was simple yet bold, and his anger fueled his decision.

Without hesitation, Andrew summoned the envoy.

“I’ve made my decision.”

“Oh? That was quick. So, what have you decided…?”

The envoy smiled smugly, assuming Andrew had decided to capitulate. It didn’t matter whether he persuaded the Julien Mercenary Corps or bowed to Crest—the envoy believed Andrew would ultimately comply.

But Andrew’s response was far from what the envoy expected.

“Break this bastard’s arm first.”

“Pardon?”

The envoy’s smug expression twisted into one of shock. The knights nearby widened their eyes in disbelief at Andrew’s words.

Andrew repeated himself, his voice firm.

“If we can’t drive out this vile wretch of an envoy right now, then break his arm and send him back.”

Without hesitation, the knights grabbed the envoy’s arm. Breaking a man’s arm was no challenge for them.

Crack!

“Ahhhhhhh!”

The envoy screamed in pain, clutching his broken arm. He couldn’t comprehend how the situation had turned so quickly.

Andrew leaned over, looking down at the envoy. Then he handed him a letter.

“Take this and deliver it properly. Don’t miss a word.”

Andrew slipped the letter into the envoy’s trembling hands.

Of course, the envoy didn’t leave immediately. Andrew kept him detained for a few days to buy time for Baron Raks’ reinforcements to arrive.

Eventually, the battered envoy was sent back to Count Crest, letter in hand.

When Crest saw the envoy’s state, he immediately understood what had happened. Curious about the letter, he opened it.

[Come and get me, you bastard. I’ll feed you to the dogs.]

Crest set the letter down, his expression icy.

“Mobilize the entire army. We’ll crush Nodehill first.”

The Crest forces, already prepared for deployment, began their march toward Nodehill.