The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 409

A master is someone who has perfected their own world.

Even without experiencing a single battle, one can become a master by exploring the intricacies of the sword and attaining enlightenment.
Some achieve this by swinging their sword hundreds of thousands of times until realization dawns upon them. Others, through relentless cultivation of mana, suddenly find themselves at the threshold of mastery.

Enlightenment takes many forms, varying from person to person.

But Tenant had never achieved such enlightenment. His extraordinary talent itself had been the barrier holding him back.

Because victory always came easily, he rarely faced true challenges outside his younger years.
Because his victories came effortlessly, he never fought desperately to surpass someone stronger.
Because of his innate abilities, he never deeply pondered the essence of the sword or sought to uncover its truths.

In the end, he had been trapped by his own talent and arrogance.

‘We were truly complacent.’

The Marquis of Roderick had been complacent, and so had Tenant. Under the title of the strongest in the West, they had rested easy, never even considering how the world might be changing.

With the leaders so indulgent, it was only natural that their followers grew equally lethargic.

But the people of the North were different. They had fought fiercely to survive and worked tirelessly to grow stronger.

It was no wonder that the West had been defeated.

BOOM!

Tenant and Ghislain's swords clashed again, their distance briefly widening.

Ghislain, shrouded in dark energy with his crimson eyes glowing fiercely, spoke.

“At last, your exceptional talent has shed its arrogance and broken through the wall. Will you surrender now?”

It was rare for Ghislain to attempt persuasion. Even rarer when dealing with an enemy.

But Tenant shook his head.

“I have killed my own lord and benefactor with my own hands. Even if I win this duel, I intend to take my life.”

Tenant raised his sword, now emanating a brilliant blue aura that stretched outward in a long blade of pure energy.

“This is my pride as the Sword of the West.”

Ghislain nodded in acknowledgment.

“I respect that.”

BOOM!

Ghislain surged forward like a beam of light, his sword slashing with deadly precision.

His opponent had reached the level of a master. There was no need to hold back any longer. Still, Ghislain couldn’t help but admit:

“You make an ideal sparring partner.”

BOOM!

Tenant barely managed to block the strike and let out a strained laugh.

“It won’t be so easy anymore.”

With each collision of their swords, the resulting shockwaves grew more intense. The observers were forced to retreat even further back.

WHOOSH!

Around the two combatants, the sheer pressure of their clashing mana created a vacuum. The air itself was forced out, leaving the area silent and suffocating.

The mana that spilled out twisted and coiled, forming massive whirlwinds around them.

The spectators stared in shock and disbelief.

“Is this what a duel between masters looks like?”
“How can humans wield such power?”

It wasn’t magic creating this storm. This was a natural phenomenon born purely from the overwhelming strength of their duel.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Tenant’s newfound strength was undeniable. His long, blue aura blade clashed valiantly against Ghislain’s crimson aura blade, holding its own against the relentless onslaught.

Occasionally, Tenant’s sword even pierced through Ghislain’s crimson haze, striking his body and releasing bursts of dark energy.

But that was where Tenant’s limits ended.

BOOM!

“Argh!”

With a lightning-fast strike, Ghislain severed Tenant’s left arm cleanly at the shoulder.

BOOM!

Tenant tried to retaliate, but Ghislain was quicker, slashing deep across his chest.

Though he had achieved mastery, Tenant’s mana reserves and swordsmanship could not compare to Ghislain’s.

Tenant’s body became a bloodied mess. The once-brilliant blue aura blade flickered and dimmed, its light fading with each passing moment.

Yet, Tenant laughed through the pain.

“To fight a battle like this and die as a knight—what an honor!”

Finally, he had ascended to the level of a master, dueling to the death against another master. His opponent was none other than the Count of Fenris, the North’s divine warrior and strongest champion.

There could be no greater honor, no worthier adversary.

“I have no regrets!”

BOOM!

Tenant poured every ounce of his remaining strength into one final strike, swinging his sword with reckless abandon. Defense no longer mattered—he placed his entire being into this one attack.

The colossal blade of blue energy surged toward Ghislain with a devastating momentum, intent on breaking him.

Ghislain smiled back, meeting Tenant’s attack head-on.

“Magnificent.”

Their swords collided once more.

BOOM!

The resulting light illuminated the battlefield, momentarily blinding everyone watching.

When the brilliance faded, the howling whirlwinds and tremors ceased, leaving an eerie silence in their wake.

Tenant stared at his sword.

The blue aura blade was gone, and the weapon itself was broken in half.

Ghislain, on the other hand, still wielded his crimson aura blade, its violent energy unyielding.

Tenant’s aura blade had been cut through and extinguished.

Shhhk.

A thin red line appeared on Tenant’s neck as blood began to seep out, trickling down in a vivid crimson stream.

The wound wasn’t enough to decapitate him, but it was fatal.

Tenant smiled, blood staining his lips.

“Thank… you.”

Thud!

Tenant collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

Ghislain exhaled deeply, letting the dark energy enveloping him dissipate.

Though his body bore numerous wounds, none were serious. His experience and training had brought him closer to the pinnacle of his past life.

After a moment of silence, Ghislain spoke.

“Gather the prisoners. Inform Claude that the war is over.”

Looking out over the silent battlefield, Ghislain smirked.

“We have won. The war is finished.”

“Hoorah!”

Cheers erupted as the soldiers raised their weapons high, celebrating their hard-fought victory.

The duel between the North’s greatest warrior and the West’s strongest swordsman had ended decisively.

And it was a resounding triumph for the North.

***

"Ahem, ahem," Claude cleared his throat with exaggerated self-importance as he strolled confidently through the streets.

Everywhere he went, people bowed their heads respectfully.

He had defended Silverlight and several other fortresses with masterful tactics during the war.

Administrative work, no matter how well done, rarely garnered much appreciation. Even though Claude had expertly managed the territory's affairs, his snarky, cheeky personality kept him from receiving the recognition he deserved.

Those who noticed improvements in their lives still gave all the credit to the Count, Ghislain, praising him instead.

But war had the power to change perceptions with a single brilliant performance.

The territory's citizens now viewed Claude in a completely new light.

"So, he really does deserve to be the steward."
"Come to think of it, isn't our territory thriving because of him?"
"If only he didn’t take bribes, he'd be perfect."

Claude’s sudden rise in fame left him feeling extremely pleased with himself. Soon, his accomplishments would be the talk of the entire kingdom.

"Ha! Even I didn’t realize how brilliant I was. What should I do with all this incredible talent?"

Wendy, standing beside him, remained silent.

Initially, she had praised and pampered him more than usual, impressed by his actions. But listening to his endless bragging day in and day out was enough to make her ears bleed. It was driving her insane.

Bellinda avoided Claude entirely, no longer able to berate him as she used to.

Claude wasn’t the only one strutting around.

"Ahem, ahem," Alfoy, too, walked around with his chin arrogantly raised.

Thanks to the war, he had finally earned his fame.

In truth, Vanessa had been the one to neutralize the enemy mages. Without her efforts, Fenris would have faced severe difficulties.

But what stuck in people’s memories was Alfoy wildly casting spells: fire blasts, mist clouds, and all manner of magic.

The citizens reevaluated their opinion of him.

"I thought he was just a drunk and a gambler."
"They say he’s a 50-circle mage."
"Wow, isn’t that practically dragon-level? Who knew Alfoy was this powerful?"

His newfound reputation even meant that Hubert, the Master of the Crimson Tower, wouldn’t dare look down on him anymore.

Buoyed by his success, Alfoy roamed the territory, giving unsolicited advice and showing off at every opportunity.

Vanessa, who usually forced him to study under strict supervision, allowed him some freedom this time.

On the day Ghislain and the Fenris Rapid Response Force returned to the territory, the streets erupted in celebration.

"Hurrah!"
"We’re invincible!"
"Congratulations on your victory!"

The citizens poured out onto the streets, cheering as they welcomed their warriors home.

This war had been different from previous ones. Without Ghislain present, the entire territory had worked together to prepare traps and defenses.

They had stood united, defending against tens of thousands of enemies.

And they had succeeded—all thanks to Ghislain.

Because of him, they had enough to eat, jobs to sustain them, and the strength to protect themselves.

Now, they had the confidence and certainty that they could face any foe without fear.

"Long live Fenris!"

Amid the resounding cheers, Ghislain entered the lord’s manor.

Seeing Claude, he raised a fist. Claude smirked and bumped it with his own.

It was a gesture Claude and Alfoy often shared, now mimicked by Ghislain.

"Wow. I told you just to hold the line until I got back, but you annihilated them? Impressive."

In his past life, Claude had been an exceptional tactician and strategist. Ghislain had trusted him to defend the territory, but he hadn’t expected such outstanding results.

Originally, the plan had been for Claude to hold the line while Ghislain used Ferdium’s forces and mercenaries to surround and crush the enemy.

Instead, Claude had turned the tables, leaving Ghislain to mop up the remnants of the enemy’s forces.

Claude, still wearing a smug expression, cleared his throat theatrically.

"Ahem, well, my lord did capture the West. You did... adequately. It wasn’t exactly difficult, though..."

Conquering the West was significantly harder, but Claude minimized Ghislain’s achievements to protect his own moment of glory. Petty as ever, Claude couldn’t help himself.

Fortunately for him, Ghislain wasn’t the type to care about such trivial things.

"Sure, sure. You did well. So, you know what comes next, right?"

Claude hesitated, his grin faltering slightly.

"...A victory celebration?"

"No. Work. We need to stabilize the West quickly. And boost the territory’s production. We need more Galvanium trebuchets."

Claude’s face darkened instantly. He looked as though he had just died inside.

He muttered under his breath, "I should’ve just died in this war. That way, at least I’d get some rest."

But Ghislain wasn’t wrong. The West was in chaos.

Although Count Selburk had been left in charge, it was impossible for him to stabilize such a vast region alone.

"Fine. I’ll send administrators as soon as possible. There’s a lot to do."

Turning the entire West into another Fenris was a pipe dream for now. For the time being, the West would serve to complement Fenris’s shortcomings.

As a resource-rich and populous region, its rapid stabilization would be a significant boon.

"We’ll rely on the Loyalists’ military assistance for now," Ghislain instructed.

Claude nodded in agreement.

Selburk couldn’t handle the West’s fractures on his own. Even managing the remaining lords and bandits would stretch him to his limit.

But now, the Loyalists could use the excuse of stabilizing the West to send their armies into the region.

With Rodrick dead and the West under Ghislain’s control, they wouldn’t face the same difficulties as before.

Ghislain quickly gathered his vassals and began intense discussions on how best to utilize and stabilize the West.

Plans were finalized, and administrators were selected to be dispatched.

Just as the situation seemed to be settling, troubling news arrived.

"The Salvation Church has begun moving openly!"

The messenger’s urgent report caused Ghislain to narrow his eyes.

The Salvation Church was acting far earlier than they had in his previous life.

The reason was obvious: Ghislain had exposed their true nature prematurely.

Ghislain murmured under his breath.

"So, it begins."

He knew all too well what the Salvation Church might do when cornered.