The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations - Chapter 367

Chapter 367: Who’s Bullying Who? (4)

The Marquis of Branford pressed his forehead with a hand. He had no idea where to begin cleaning up this mess.

The Marquis of Roderick had tried to stage a surprise attack, only to have it backfire spectacularly.

“That foolish… idiot.”

That greedy man had finally caused a disaster. And Ghislain, as if he had been waiting for this moment, had readily accepted the fight.

‘Well… Ghislain’s greed is no different, I suppose.’

In his own way, Ghislain was just as avaricious as the Marquis of Roderick. However, his ambitions weren’t for personal gain. In fact, all the benefits he accrued were poured back into his territory. It was because of this that Fenris had been developing at an incredible pace.

A different kind of greed. And because of that, the Marquis of Branford still couldn’t quite figure out what kind of man Ghislain truly was.

After mulling it over for a while, he addressed the nobles of the Royal Faction.

“Keep the troops on standby so that we can start a war at any time.”

The others leaned back in their chairs with a sigh. They understood why the Marquis of Branford was saying this.

If the Marquis of Roderick issued a full mobilization order, a massive army would assemble. In that case, the Count of Fenris wouldn’t stay idle either.

Whether they liked it or not, the two men were accelerating the inevitability of a civil war.

To prepare for a war that could break out at any moment, they needed to ready their forces in advance.

“I’ll do my best to prevent a full-scale war for now. However, the ducal families have lost the Scarlet Tower, so we can’t predict their next move. We need to prepare for an ambush.”

The others nodded. They had been celebrating not long ago because the Count of Fenris had become a master. Yet now, they found themselves on the brink of war.

It had been a situation that could have been resolved peacefully, but they had no idea how it had escalated to this point.

The nobles of the Royal Faction weren’t the only ones shocked by the current state of affairs.

“Wait, Ghislain is really a master? And now he’s clashing with the Marquis of Roderick?”

Amelia, too, wore an expression of disbelief upon hearing the news.

She had destroyed the Scarlet Tower to pit the two against each other, but from what she’d heard, Ghislain had already killed Delmud. The fight she had hoped to provoke had started on its own.

Half of her plan had succeeded, which was a relief, but it was annoying how things kept deviating from her original intentions.

“Ha… I can’t believe that guy really became a master.”

Amelia’s disbelief was still apparent. She knew Ghislain’s past better than anyone. Far too well, in fact.

She didn’t think for a moment that he had been hiding his strength all along. During their engagement, she had been utterly repulsed by his true self.

‘There’s no way he was hiding his strength.’

She still remembered how his face would flush and his body would twist nervously whenever he saw her. He had been far too pathetic to be concealing such power.

There had been plenty of reasons for her disdain and disregard for him.

‘Come to think of it… he doesn’t show any trace of that old self now.’

Comparing his current demeanor to the man she had known, she wondered if they were even the same person.

Someone had to be behind him. Someone must have raised him to become a master in such a short span of years and fed him valuable information.

If not a person, then he must have acquired some artifact with similar capabilities.

‘I need to uncover it.’

Amelia bit her lip. Whoever—or whatever—had turned that wastrel into a master and imbued him with mysterious knowledge… she needed to find it and claim it for herself. Doing so would accelerate her own ambitions.

Aside from his newfound strength, it was shocking enough that Ghislain had started a fight with the Marquis of Roderick.

‘He’s really a lunatic. Charging headfirst into trouble everywhere he goes…’

The Marquis of Roderick was far stronger than the Count of Desmond. He was a high-ranking noble and a key figure in the Ducal Faction.

To think that Ghislain had gone to the west and created a ruckus by picking a fight with such a figure—it was insane.

At that moment, a powerful impulse arose in her mind.

‘If I strike at Ghislain now…’

Fenris might be strong, but with Ghislain absent from his position, she was confident she could sweep in with her forces and take it in one fell swoop.

‘No, not yet. I have to be patient.’

Just as Ghislain considered Amelia a wildcard, she saw him as her greatest variable.

If she took Fenris, the Royal Faction would lose the north, leading to an inevitable defeat in the civil war.

Had she been a loyalist to the ducal families, she wouldn’t have let this opportunity slip. But Amelia saw the ducal families as future enemies as well. She had no intention of doing anything to help them.

The Ducal and Royal Factions needed to continue grinding each other down until they destroyed one another.

To her, Ghislain was a nuisance to be dealt with, not a target. For the sake of her grand ambitions, she had to set aside her personal grudges for now.

Amelia calmed her disappointment and turned to Conrad.

“Phew… Send people to the west to keep monitoring the situation. Make full use of the merchant guilds.”

“Understood.”

“What about the envoys heading this way?”

“Vulcan handled them all and reported that they’ve been silenced.”

“Good. What about the preparations for troops and supplies?”

“Everything is ready. We can mobilize at any time.”

Amelia nodded with a satisfied expression and continued.

“I’ll provide the route for immediate action once the civil war breaks out. Prepare the logistics accordingly. Speed will be our greatest advantage.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Leaning her chin on her hand, Amelia closed her eyes. With Ghislain and the Marquis of Roderick at each other’s throats, the timing for the civil war was bound to accelerate.

If Ghislain stood as the pillar of the Royal Faction, she was the counterpart in the Ducal Faction. And neither of them was inclined to follow orders from others.

‘This war won’t go the way you fools expect.’

Everything would unfold according to her plans. A faint smile crept across her lips as she closed her eyes, savoring the thought.

The Marquis of Roderick blinked, incredulous as he listened to his retainer’s report.

“The merchant guild raid… failed? You sent a thousand men and couldn’t even take down a cosmetics merchant guild?”

“Yes, my lord. The entire force was annihilated. There are reports that the Count of Fenris came in person.”

“That bastard… dared to come to the west with just a few hundred men? Does he take me for a joke?”

The Marquis ground his teeth, glaring daggers at the unlucky retainer.

There was still much debate surrounding the true strength of the Count of Fenris.

But the annihilation of a thousand men confirmed that there was something extraordinary about him.

Rumors even suggested that he was a mage.

That much could be believed. A man of his renown might indeed be unstoppable for a thousand soldiers.

The real problem lay in what followed.

“And now, you’re telling me that the lands of my vassals are being attacked by him?”

“Yes, my lord. Three territories have been raided and plundered so far. Additionally, mercenaries have suddenly appeared in multiple locations, transporting the looted goods back to Fenris. Another raid was just reported a moment ago.”

“Ugh, ugh… Aaaahhhh!”

Crash!

The Marquis of Roderick roared as he slammed his armrest, shattering it in a fit of rage.

“That insolent brat! How dare he come after me!”

It was humiliating. He had provoked Ghislain under the guise of avenging his son’s death, only to find himself on the losing side.

Now, pleas for help were flooding in as Ghislain raided his vassals’ territories.

“Damn it… That bastard is running rampant, stirring up trouble everywhere.”

The Marquis of Roderick’s domain was vast, and the western region even more so. Yet, most of the available troops were concentrated in his central estate.

Many of the western lords were his vassals, holding individual forces ranging from 500 to 1,000 soldiers, with the strongest mustering no more than 3,000.

This was the strategic tradition of the Roderick Marquisate. By dividing the land among numerous vassals, none could grow too powerful. When additional forces were needed, the central estate provided reinforcements.

This approach had allowed the Marquis of Roderick to dominate the west as its overlord.

But now, that strategy had become a liability. The scattered power of his vassals was insufficient to deal with Ghislain.

The Marquis barked orders in a voice dripping with fury.

“Gather the army immediately! Hunt that brat down and kill him! Ensure he can’t attack the vassals any further! Relay orders to the surrounding territories to mobilize and encircle him!”

While this strategy worked well for internal control, its fragmented nature left them vulnerable to external threats.

The Marquis knew this flaw, but he had never imagined anyone would dare invade. The sheer might of the Marquisate had always seemed an unassailable deterrent.

However, he couldn’t leave his vassals undefended. Each loss weakened the Marquisate as a whole.

Though individually weak, the combined forces of the vassals formed an army tens of thousands strong.

That was the true power of the west, and of the overlord who ruled it.

As the Marquis fumed, his retainers spoke up cautiously.

“My lord, since the Count of Fenris has come personally, some losses are inevitable. However, we have a way to capture him quickly.”

“A way? What way?”

The retainers, demonstrating their worth as advisors to a noble house of prestige, had already formulated a plan in response to the situation.

“The Count of Fenris hasn’t brought a proper army for an invasion. He cannot hope to defeat us in a full-scale war. That’s why he’s resorting to raiding. We can force him into a single location, surround him, and crush him.”

Hearing this, the Marquis’s rage cooled slightly, and his interest was piqued.

“How do you plan to do that? Speak.”

Tennant, the Knight Commander of the Marquisate, unfolded a map and began explaining the strategy.

“After consulting with the staff, we’ve concluded that if the Count of Fenris continues his raids, he’ll eventually have no choice but to target this location.”

The location he pointed to was the Barony of Daiker, a vassal territory with a relatively large force of 3,000 soldiers. While it lacked many knights, its strategic position made it an essential stronghold, housing more troops than neighboring regions.

“If he doesn’t take Daiker, his only alternatives would be to bypass it or approach the heart of the Marquisate.”

Effectively, the Barony of Daiker doubled as a fortress protecting the west. To invade, Ghislain would either have to breach it or take a long detour.

“We’ve already sent orders to the surrounding territories. The lords are mobilizing their forces to form a defensive line around the Barony of Daiker.”

“And? We’re going to kill that bastard, aren’t we?”

“We’ve also sent a messenger to Baron Daiker, instructing him to leave only the bare minimum of provisions and hold out as long as possible.”

“Ho…”

The Marquis of Roderick nodded, his expression indicating a growing understanding of the plan.

“If that brat enters, he’ll starve to death?”

“Exactly. Even if he successfully occupies the barony, he won’t be able to hold it without food. Once he’s weakened from hunger, we’ll encircle and crush him.”

“How long will this take?”

“If the Count of Fenris manages to occupy the territory, a week of siege should suffice. If we want to be thorough, we could wait for a month. Either way, he won’t last long before being forced to flee.”

While a week without food wouldn’t kill anyone, it would sap their strength, leaving them incapable of fighting effectively.

“How many troops will we need?”

“Considering the Count of Fenris’ reputation, I’d estimate around 10,000.”

“Can’t Baron Daiker’s forces hold him off on their own?”

“It would be difficult, given their lack of knights.”

Reports indicated that Ghislain had brought no siege equipment, instead sneaking over castle walls at night to carry out massacres. Mercenaries followed in his wake, transporting plundered goods back to Fenris.

The retainers speculated that Ghislain had brought a considerable number of knights with him, as such stealthy operations would be impossible otherwise.

“How many knights does he have with him?”

“From the intelligence we’ve gathered, at least 50. The rest appear to be highly skilled soldiers. He likely handpicked only the best for this mission.”

In truth, Ghislain had brought 400 knights and no regular soldiers, but no one imagined he would assemble such a force. Even the estimate of 50 knights was deliberately generous.

Though Fenris was rumored to have many knights, it was also said they were mostly of low rank. Most lords didn’t put much stock in those rumors.

The Marquis shifted to another concern.

“What if we support Baron Daiker in the fight? If we strip the territory of supplies, won’t they struggle to hold out as well?”

“Our forces’ presence would only encourage them to abandon the barony. Even if we must sacrifice Baron Daiker, we need to trap them inside. As soon as the castle is taken, we’ll initiate the siege.”

Tennant suggested using their ally as bait without batting an eye, even though it meant certain death for them.

Surprisingly, the Marquis nodded without objection, his face devoid of concern.

It was a cruel plan, fitting for a master as merciless as his retainers.

A Ruthless Plan

After listening to Tennant’s full explanation, the Marquis of Roderick approved the plan without hesitation.

“I’ll give you 5,000 troops. Gather the remaining 5,000 from the surrounding vassal territories. This time, ensure he’s taken down for good.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Who will lead the operation? It can’t be you. I can’t afford to lose you in some petty skirmish.”

Tennant was a key figure in the Marquisate and couldn’t be risked in a battle like this. There was always the possibility of encountering Ghislain, rumored to be a master, which would be too great a risk.

“I’ll assign Howard, an advanced knight. He’s not only skilled in swordsmanship but also highly capable in military strategy. He’s someone we can rely on.”

“Good, good. Do as you suggested.”

The Marquis finally smiled, satisfied.

No matter how strong the Count of Fenris was, it would be impossible for him to overturn the tide with such a small force. He certainly wouldn’t be able to face an army of 10,000 after a week of starvation.

Even if he truly was a master, he couldn’t possibly kill 10,000 soldiers, especially with knights among their ranks.

Of course, the Marquis wasn’t planning to simply kill him.

“I want the Count of Fenris brought back alive if possible. Destroy his core so he can’t use mana, or sever his limbs—do whatever it takes.”

The Marquis of Roderick grinned viciously, his smile tinged with rage. There was no way he would let the upstart brat from the north get away unscathed.

He resolved to capture him and torment him endlessly, ensuring that death would be a mercy Ghislain could never reach.

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