The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 693

Count Crest’s army was already in complete disarray. Thousands of corpses littered the battlefield, and the eyes of the survivors were filled with nothing but despair.

“T-this can’t be…”

Realization struck too late. Only now, upon seeing the allied forces charging in, did they understand. Their opponent was not just a single mage.

With their formation in shambles, they had no way of stopping the advancing enemy. The officers screamed in desperation.

“F-form up! Get back into formation!”

“Shield bearers! Shield bearers to the front, now!”

“Get into position immediately!”

Crest’s forces hurriedly stopped chasing Ghislain and scrambled to reorganize their ranks.

But it was already too late. A broken formation could not be restructured in an instant.

Amid the chaos, Julien burst into their midst.

Schk!

“Arghhh!”

Julien cut through Crest’s troops without hesitation, his sword swinging mercilessly. Every time his blade moved, enemies fell like severed limbs.

Right behind him, Kyle and Tyron arrived. The two fought with just as much ferocity, slicing through their enemies without pause.

With three warriors rampaging through their ranks, Crest’s soldiers, already panicked, had no idea what to do. Some tried to run, others hesitated, and most simply floundered in confusion.

Before long, the rest of the allied forces crashed into Crest’s army.

Boom!

The alliance soldiers and mercenaries were overflowing with morale, utterly relentless as they tore into the enemy.

The Swipel forces, arriving as reinforcements, struck at Crest’s flanks.

Ghislain alone had taken down more than half of Crest’s forces, but in sheer numbers, both sides were still comparable.

However, with their formation shattered and morale in ruins, Crest’s army had no chance of holding their ground. They could hardly even defend themselves, let alone mount a counterattack.

“You bastards, we’re the strongest mercenary corps in the world!”

“How do you like the magic of our vice commander?”

“Count Crest is dying today!”

The mercenaries, their spirits soaring, jeered and shouted as they swung their weapons. Crest’s soldiers, having already lost their fighting spirit, were pushed back with shocking ease.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

In the midst of the chaotic melee, Osvald’s massive war hammer proved especially devastating. Brimming with adrenaline, he gleefully smashed Crest’s troops apart, laughing wildly.

“I, the great Osvald, have followed my brothers all my life, and now I’ve achieved greatness with them! Hahaha!”

Osvald might have been cowardly at times, but when the battle started, his sheer size and weaponry made him an absolute menace to regular soldiers.

Thanks to everyone’s efforts, Crest’s army collapsed at an alarming speed. Even the heavily armored knights among them—veterans of the Ironclad Lion Corps—were struggling.

Though they fought valiantly, the tide turned once the allied knights joined the fray. One by one, Crest’s knights began to fall.

Julien, Kyle, and Tyron were especially unstoppable.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“I am Tyron!”

Tyron bellowed, his sword cleaving through enemies with terrifying strength. No ordinary soldier could stand against him.

“I am Kyle!”

Kyle shouted back, refusing to be outdone. His blade moved like a wolf’s fangs, striking at his enemies' vital points with precision.

“I am the darkness—Dark!”

Dark, perched on Kyle’s shoulder, contributed nothing but loud, dramatic declarations.

At the front of the charge, Julien surveyed the battlefield. Crest’s troops could no longer even muster a proper resistance.

‘It won’t be long now.’

More and more enemies were abandoning the fight to flee. Those with any sense of self-preservation had long stopped resisting.

Now was the time to end this.

“Surrender! Lay down your weapons, and you will be spared!”

At Julien’s command, the soldiers nearby hesitated, then froze. They had already realized the battle was lost.

Soon, similar cries echoed across the battlefield.

“If you surrender, you will be spared!”

“Drop your weapons and get on the ground!”

“Resist, and we’ll kill you all! Get down, now!”

The mercenaries’ aggressive shouts had an even greater effect. Even those who had been running away threw down their weapons and fell to the ground.

Even the knights hesitated before following suit. After all, no matter how much pride they had as knights, few were truly willing to give their lives for a ruthless lord.

Watching their swift surrender, Julien clenched his fist.

Of course, he knew this wasn’t the end. There was still one last desperate move their enemy could make.

As expected, standing at the edge of the battlefield, Count Crest’s face twisted in rage. He let out a furious roar.

“Mages! Now! Unleash everything you have!”

His eyes were bloodshot with fury.

The great Count Crest, the most powerful lord in this region, was watching his forces surrender to a bunch of mercenaries. Even his trusted knights had thrown down their weapons.

Unforgivable. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he had slaughtered every last one of them.

At his command, one of his mages hesitated and spoke up.

“B-but our own forces are mixed in with the enemy. If we cast magic now—”

“Then do you want to die here instead?! The enemy mage is exhausted! Just unleash everything! Kill them all! I said kill them all!”

The mages had done nothing throughout the battle except for futile attempts at shielding themselves. They had failed to block enemy spells.

In other words, they had accomplished absolutely nothing.

But that also meant they still had plenty of mana left.

Expressionless, the mages began gathering their power. If the Count ordered it, they had no choice but to kill their own allies along with the enemy.

Wooooooom…

As more than ten mages began channeling their spells, the air itself trembled. If they unleashed their magic, everyone in the area would be annihilated in an instant.

But before they could finish casting, something shot through the air.

“Huh?”

Clang!

One of the mages hurriedly raised a shield. A small fireball struck it.

“A-a spell? Who—?”

As they looked around in confusion, dozens more fireballs rained down from the same direction.

Ghislain had circled around the battlefield and reappeared in their rear.

“T-the enemy mage is behind us! Stop him!”

Panic spread among the mages as they abandoned their spells to raise shields instead.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The fireballs crashed into their defenses one after another, forcing them onto the defensive.

It wasn’t particularly powerful magic, but for frail mages, even a single direct hit could be fatal.

While they scrambled to block the attacks, the head mage yelled.

“You fools! I’ll maintain the shields—just finish casting the spell!”

The mages snapped out of their panic. In the confusion, they had only been focused on self-defense.

But there was no need. As long as their head mage handled the shields, the rest could complete their magic.

Or so they thought.

Ghislain snapped his fingers and grinned.

“Disappear.”

Fwoosh.

The head mage’s shield vanished instantly.

He hadn’t failed to dispel it before—he just hadn’t bothered. It was too much of a hassle to constantly dispel everything. But dealing with one shield? That was easy.

After all, he was already at the level of a 6th-Circle mage.

“H-huh? What? What just happened?”

The head mage, a 5th-Circle spellcaster, stared in shock. He simply couldn’t comprehend how his magic had been undone so effortlessly.

A true magical genius would have to use multiple dispels to counter him. If his opponent were also a 5th-Circle mage, they should have been evenly matched.

But before they could recover, more fireballs rained down on them.

The mages instinctively tried to raise shields again, but they froze when they heard a voice whisper from up close.

“I’m here.”

Ghislain had already closed the distance. He spun his staff lazily, grinning. Around him, fireballs still hovered, waiting to be unleashed.

The head mage frantically shouted.

“Block his magic! No, use a wide-area spell—just kill him first!”

The panic was evident. The mages were too rattled to think straight. They hesitated, unsure of what to do.

And in battle, hesitation meant death.

Ghislain was not only more powerful, but he was also a master of psychological warfare.

He was good at everything.

Except romance.

Boom!

“Gaaah!”

As Ghislain’s staff swung forward, a mage attempting to raise a shield was sent flying.

The other mages recoiled in shock, scrambling to put distance between themselves and the sudden attacker. At this point, they no longer cared about orders from their allies. Their only concern was survival, and so they hurriedly retreated.

But the head mage, sensing the desperation of the moment, reached out and gathered his mana.

Fwoosh!

Even though it was hastily cast, the spell was still a formidable 5th-Circle attack.

Ghislain, now visibly fatigued, furrowed his brows slightly—then simply sidestepped the spell. There was no need to take it head-on.

“W-what?”

The mage had expected him to counter or shield himself, but Ghislain had simply dodged. In that brief moment of shock, Ghislain was already in front of him, smiling.

“Nodehill and Raks could use more mages, so I’ll let you live.”

Whack!

Before the head mage could raise his shield, Ghislain’s staff crashed into his skull. His head cracked slightly, and he collapsed, unconscious.

“…I really hope that doesn’t make him any dumber,” Ghislain mused, tilting his head in mock concern.

Then, without hesitation, he darted toward the remaining mages. Some were already fleeing outright, but weak mages had no hope of outrunning Ghislain.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“Ugh!”

One by one, the mages fell unconscious, each struck in the head.

Watching the mages crumble, Count Crest let out an enraged scream.

“KILL HIM! KILL THAT BASTARD!”

At last, the black-clad knights surrounding Crest began to move.

Ghislain smirked and clicked his tongue.

“If you were going to act, you should have done it earlier. It’s too late now.”

The so-called Royal Guard was now moving as if they had only just realized the battle had begun.

Count Crest’s personal guard was composed entirely of at least mid-level knights. There were two high-ranking knights among them, and their captain was at the threshold of top-tier mastery.

Had they moved from the very beginning, even Ghislain wouldn’t have been able to act so recklessly.

But Crest had chosen to keep his elite guard close, unwilling to risk his personal safety. He had believed his overwhelming numbers alone would suffice.

Now, even if they tried to chase down Ghislain, it was already far too late.

“I’m off.”

Fatigued, Ghislain immediately turned and ran as soon as the knights approached.

“After him! Catch him at once!”

The knight captain, Simon, bellowed and led the pursuit. But after only a few steps, he was forced to halt.

“Damn it…”

Unbeknownst to him, the enemy forces had already encircled them. The enemy mage had incapacitated only the allied mages and then slipped away.

Step. Step. Step.

Julien slowly emerged from the ranks, raising his sword.

“Surrender,” he commanded. “If you yield now, everyone except Count Crest will be spared.”

To expand Nodehill and Raks, skilled knights were needed. Julien had already discussed this with Ghislain. They would take as many knights as possible and integrate them into their forces.

But Count Crest’s eyes burned with bloodlust as he roared.

“Silence! Kill them! Kill them all, now!”

The mage had retreated. The remaining mercenary scum? His Royal Guard could handle them.

At least, that’s what he believed.

Crest’s army had already been shattered. His only hope now lay in his personal knights.

Simon, saying nothing, fixed his gaze on Julien and asked:

“You’re the leader of Julien’s Mercenary Corps?”

“I am.”

“And that mage?”

“He’s my vice commander.”

Simon frowned. The vice commander was stronger than the leader? What kind of nonsense was this?

But he saw an opportunity.

Julien had charged ahead too far, leaving himself isolated.

‘If I can just take him down…’

Turning the tide of battle was impossible. Even if they were strong, they were outnumbered.

But if he captured the enemy commander, they might have a way out.

Simon was a top-tier knight. If he put all his strength into it, he could take down a single mercenary in an instant.

Boom!

Without warning, Simon exploded forward, his mana flaring. His plan was to slash at Julien’s legs and take him hostage.

But—

Clang!

“Urgh!”

Julien reacted with shocking speed, blocking Simon’s sword.

Simon was momentarily stunned. His attack had been stopped by a mere mercenary?

But as a top-tier knight, he quickly adjusted. In an instant, he shifted his stance, aiming for Julien’s throat.

Clang!

Julien staggered slightly as he parried again. His opponent’s skill was too refined to block perfectly.

“You…!”

Simon didn’t relent, unleashing a flurry of attacks.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Julien desperately fell back, blocking each strike. He couldn’t counter or evade—he was barely managing to defend himself.

The surrounding soldiers froze in place. The duel was happening at a speed they couldn’t even comprehend.

But Julien wasn’t alone.

And mercenaries played by different rules.

Thwack!

“Guh!”

As Simon focused solely on Julien, Kyle’s sword suddenly slashed across his shoulder.

Simon twisted his body, barely avoiding a fatal wound. But from the other side, Tyron’s blade came straight for his leg.

“This is a sacred duel! How dare you—!”

Clang!

Simon roared in fury, parrying the strike.

But then—Kyle swung again.

Clang!

Simon barely deflected it.

His reactions were flawless, befitting a top-tier knight. But there was a limit.

Shhk!

“…Ugh…”

Julien’s sword had already pierced his throat.