The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 371

Through the open castle gate, a man emerged on a black horse, lance in hand, dragging it lazily by his side.

Behind him, 400 men followed, each carrying a wooden box strapped to their backs.

Howard sneered as he watched the scene unfold.

“So, you’ve finally given up. You’ve held out long enough as it is. I guess they’ve eaten everything there was to eat...”

He paused, his expression hardening as he noticed something peculiar.

“Wait… they still have horses?”

For nearly two months, Howard had laid siege to the fortress, cutting off all supplies. By now, their horses should have been slaughtered for food. Even with rationing, it was impossible for 400 men to survive without running out of horses in half a month.

Yet every single one of them was mounted. If they hadn’t eaten their horses, then what had they been eating to endure this long?

“What’s going on? Why do they all look so… fine?”

The air around the enemy didn’t match that of starving men. Though still at a distance, Howard could clearly make out their appearances.

The horses were in decent condition, too. A bit thinner, perhaps, but still full of energy, stamping their hooves restlessly.

Indeed, the knights of Fenris appeared far from exhausted. The only thing frayed was their patience, sharpened like a blade on the verge of being unsheathed.

“Ugh… all that damn powder has given me muscle loss,” muttered Gordon, his newly slimmed-down frame making him grumble.

Lukas, standing beside him, nodded in agreement. “Let’s take it out on those bastards. I’m already in a bad mood.”

The two had grown accustomed to complaining after being subjected to the combat rations Ghislain had devised. For two months, the knights of Fenris had survived on the powdered meals he had prepared. Each of them carried a few tins of the stuff, making it possible to endure the siege without issue.

But endurance wasn’t the problem—it was boredom. The monotony of their diet made them crave real food like addicts longing for a fix.

Ghislain, surveying his knights, let out a low chuckle.

“Today, we’ll crush those bastards and steal their provisions. Let’s eat until we’re stuffed.”

The knights licked their lips in anticipation. Memories of the delicacies they’d looted from the wealthy western baronies flickered through their minds. Even the smallest fiefs in the West were affluent, and the provisions required to feed such a large army would surely include plenty of meat.

Urging his horse forward, Ghislain spoke again, his tone calm but commanding.

“Let’s begin before they regain their composure. When I give the signal, charge.”

“Yes, sir!” the knights bellowed, their voices echoing powerfully as they tossed their wooden boxes to the ground.

The boxes shattered, revealing countless spears that spilled onto the earth like a torrent.

With a low hum, the air seemed to tremble.

Ghislain nudged his horse forward, and the spears began to rise, one by one, as if summoned by an unseen force.

The black steed’s gallop quickened, its speed increasing with every stride. Before long, hundreds of spears floated in the air, forming a disciplined formation behind Ghislain like a phantom army.

Howard and the Rodrick forces stared in disbelief, shouting in confusion.

“What the hell is that?”

“The spears… they’re flying after him!”

“Is he actually a mage?”

The phenomenon left no doubt—Count Fenris was the one controlling the spears. It was clear that they would only stop if he were killed. But how could they kill a man who was rumored to be a Master, a warrior beyond human limits?

Howard, steeling himself, roared an order.

“Do not falter! Even a Master must be weakened after two months of starvation! Hold your formation and face him head-on!”

The front-line infantry braced their spears, forming a solid wall. The cavalry on either flank began to circle, preparing to charge. Archers nocked their arrows, aiming at the approaching figure.

A single man against 20,000.

It was an unprecedented sight in the history of the kingdom. Absurd though it seemed, the soldiers held their breath, unable to dismiss the tension gripping them.

“Fire!”

At the commanders’ shouts, a storm of arrows rained down toward Ghislain.

With a flick of his reins, Ghislain urged his horse forward.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

The black steed surged ahead, slicing through the wall of arrows in an instant.

Howard’s face hardened as he bellowed, “Stop him!”

“Waaaaah!”

The front-line infantry roared, surging forward to meet him. Cavalry from both sides charged simultaneously, aiming to encircle him.

But the spears trailing behind Ghislain suddenly shot forward like streaks of light, scattering in every direction.

Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack!

“Aaargh!”

The spears pierced through the advancing soldiers with terrifying precision, leaving chaos in their wake.

And it didn’t stop there.

“The spears… they’re moving on their own!”

The floating spears began attacking independently, darting through the ranks like ghostly blades, striking down soldiers with relentless efficiency.

The more mana Ghislain poured into them, the more numerous and agile the spears became. They moved like an immortal army, soldiers that felt no pain and knew no fatigue.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

“Help us! Do something about these things!”

The Rodrick soldiers faltered, their formation crumbling as they struggled to defend against the spectral weapons. While a few skilled fighters managed to deflect or destroy some of the spears, most were powerless against them.

Amid the chaos, Ghislain’s black steed broke through the front lines, barreling toward the enemy’s core.

“Let’s go wild for the first time in a while.”

With a fierce grin and glowing crimson eyes, Ghislain spurred his steed forward.

Boom!

The horse leaped into the fray, crashing into the soldiers with bone-shattering force.

“Aaaaargh!”

Standing atop the black steed, Ghislain wielded his spear with deadly precision. Each swing sent dozens of heads flying, blood painting the battlefield red.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

His strikes grew faster and more ferocious. The soldiers could do nothing but retreat, scrambling to escape his reach.

Though their numbers were vast, they were poorly trained and lacked real combat experience. Against Ghislain’s overwhelming force, they were little more than armed civilians.

Howard watched in stunned disbelief, muttering to himself.

“Impossible… They must be starving… How can he fight like this?”

Even as he witnessed it with his own eyes, he couldn’t comprehend the sheer power before him. Was this what it meant to be called a Master? A warrior of legend?

Unaware that the Fenris knights had not been starving, Howard could only scream in frustration.

“Don’t run! The more you scatter, the greater the losses! Knights, focus on destroying those spears!”

The soldiers tried to rally, but fear had already gripped their hearts. Every attempt to regroup only resulted in more casualties as Ghislain and his spectral spears tore through their ranks.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The crimson-tinged spears sliced through bodies with terrifying ease, often killing without even making contact.

For the first time, the Rodrick forces understood the terror of facing a true Master.

“A-a monster…”

“We can’t even get close!”

“We need the knights!”

Panic spread like wildfire. Soldiers recoiled in fear, unable to stand their ground. Some tried to bring down the black horse, but even that proved futile.

Thud! Thud!

“Ugh! Aaaargh!”

The black steed neighed, rearing up as Ghislain continued his carnage, a living embodiment of death on the battlefield.

The black horse wasn’t just any horse. It moved like a wild beast, making it nearly impossible for the soldiers to land a proper strike.

Even when an attack managed to connect, it was only a glancing blow. Such strikes barely grazed the horse’s dense muscles, leaving no significant damage.

Instead, the soldiers who dared to get too close to the beast were the first to fall.

“This... this is the North’s strongest... the Count of Fenris…”
Someone mumbled as they instinctively retreated.

Fear is contagious. While the knights were preoccupied battling hundreds of flying spears, the soldiers were completely overwhelmed by Ghislain’s sheer presence, unable to muster the courage to attack.

Howard clutched his head in frustration, shouting furiously at his troops.

“Attack, you idiots! How can you call yourselves the West’s strongest army?!”

It was absurd. Twenty thousand soldiers, retreating in panic because of one man.

The soldiers nearest to Ghislain scrambled back in desperation, and those behind them hesitated to advance, paralyzed by fear.

“Keep attacking! Exhaust him! If we drain his strength, we can win!”

A Master may be formidable, but they weren’t invincible. If enough soldiers kept pressing him, they could wear him down, maybe even kill him.

But the soldiers lacked the will for such a relentless assault. Most of them weren’t loyal to their cause, nor did they have any sense of duty strong enough to keep them fighting.

Moreover, there was no leader on the front lines to inspire or rally them.

“Damn it… I should’ve brought heavy infantry,” Howard muttered bitterly.

If only he had deployed a unit of heavy infantry, they could have surrounded Ghislain with shields and drained his strength methodically. Heavy infantry were ideal for battles against powerful foes; their training and discipline were leagues beyond those of ordinary soldiers, and they specialized in defense.

But this army had been hastily assembled, leaving no time to recruit properly trained heavy infantry.

“Knights! All of you, attack Count Fenris!” Howard ordered, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Fortunately, many of the knights had already managed to destroy most of the flying spears, cutting them down to manageable fragments. They quickly redirected their focus and charged toward Ghislain.

Whoosh!

As the knights approached, Ghislain’s movements shifted.

“Guess I’ll have to step it up a bit.”

Until now, he had been conserving his strength to fight strategically, knowing the enemy numbered 20,000. Collapsing from overexertion in the middle of the battlefield was not an option.

But facing knights was a different matter. With a faint smile, Ghislain drew more mana into his body. This was an opportunity to test the mettle of the western knights.

Clang!

“Oh? Not bad,” he remarked, impressed.

While some knights fell instantly, others managed to block his spear. Despite their lack of real combat experience, the well-fed and well-equipped knights of the West showed impressive skill.

“Money really does solve everything,” Ghislain mused, laughing softly.
In his past life, he had put his soldiers through hellish training to reach this level, yet these knights achieved it simply by throwing money at their problems. Life was unfair.

But Ghislain couldn’t care less. After all, all that wealth would soon belong to him.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The knights pressing in on Ghislain suddenly jumped back in alarm.

The fragments of spears they thought they had destroyed earlier rose again, striking out in all directions.

“What the hell is this?!”
The knights were visibly shaken as they tried to make sense of the situation.

Unbeknownst to them, the spears weren’t moving on their own. Ghislain was manipulating them with his mana. Breaking them only altered their length; as long as he had enough mana, he could keep them moving indefinitely.

The shattered spear fragments swirled around the battlefield, significantly reducing their lethality but effectively disrupting the knights’ focus.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Using this chaos to his advantage, Ghislain forced the battle into disarray. The more chaotic the battlefield, the easier it was for him to control the flow of combat.

Watching this unfold, Howard clenched his jaw in frustration.

“This man... he’s a monster.”

It was Howard’s first time witnessing someone of Master-level skill in action. He had heard tales of their legendary prowess, but seeing it firsthand was beyond anything he could have imagined.

The soldiers and knights alike struggled to concentrate under the relentless assault of Ghislain’s abilities.

“A one-man army,” Howard muttered grimly.

It was the kind of foe only knights were meant to face. Strong enemies had to be dealt with by equally strong warriors.

Realizing he had no choice, Howard decided to enter the fray himself. As both the army’s commander and its strongest warrior, it was his duty.

“Clear the way!”

Spurring his horse forward, Howard charged into battle, flanked by his personal guard. As he neared Ghislain, he roared and swung his halberd with all his might.

“Count Fenris!”

Clang!

The collision of their mana sent a powerful shockwave rippling through the battlefield.

Their eyes met, and Ghislain smiled faintly.

“So, you’re the commander?”

“That’s right. And I’m here to—”

Thwack!

Before Howard could finish, Ghislain effortlessly deflected his halberd and immediately thrust his spear toward Howard’s head.

Howard, his stance momentarily broken by the first strike, realized he wouldn’t be able to block the second.

Thankfully, his guards reacted swiftly, crossing their halberds to intercept Ghislain’s spear.

Crash!

The halberds shattered instantly, but the knights quickly drew their backup weapons from their saddles. At the same time, other knights seized the opportunity to aim for the black horse’s legs.

“Not bad,” Ghislain remarked, gripping the reins tightly as he retreated slightly.

Howard took advantage of the opening to bark new orders.

“Knights, target the horse! Bodyguards, stay with me and focus on the Count!”

Every knight on the battlefield turned their attention to Ghislain and his steed. Even the black horse, as formidable as it was, couldn’t hold out against such a coordinated assault for long.

Despite the mounting pressure, Ghislain remained calm, skillfully fending off the knights’ attacks while slowly retreating. The soldiers didn’t dare to interfere, too terrified to do anything but keep out of the way.

As he withdrew, Ghislain gently patted the horse’s neck and murmured, “Kongi, you might want to start learning some mana techniques after this.”

The horse snorted loudly, seemingly unable to understand its rider’s words but clearly agitated by the chaos of the battlefield.

Smirking, Ghislain suddenly shouted in a thunderous voice that echoed across the battlefield:

“CHARGE!”

The command rang out like a clap of thunder, sending shockwaves through the ranks of the Fenris forces.