The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 274: I’ll Buy Us Some Time (1)

‘...He got one over on me.’

Ghislain sat in silence, processing the news that Desmond was advancing toward them. Harold had moved faster than expected. He’d considered that possibility, but this speed was beyond his calculations.

‘Too many things have changed.’

Utilizing knowledge from the future, Ghislain had always been a step ahead, securing advantages no one else could. What should have been a crumbled Royalist faction still stood strong, and Ferdium, which was supposed to have fallen, was alive. The benefits of new technologies had come as a bonus.

All these accomplishments were thanks to the knowledge he had stolen from the future. But now, the price for altering the future was coming due.

“My Lord! Count Desmond has lost his mind! Mobilizing an army all by himself without it even being a civil war!” Claude shouted, his face drained of color. Up to this point, Fenris territory had always waged war by finishing its preparations first, then launching surprise attacks on the enemy. While the preparations were underway, they rarely noticed, but in hindsight, it was clear they’d always been set up to deliver the first strike.

But for the first time, the enemy was attacking before they had even finished their preparations. The entire situation had flipped on its head.

Ghislain asked calmly, hiding any hint of emotion, “How many new bows have been produced?”

Galbarik looked hesitant, clearly troubled. “Only... just over half are complete.”

These new bows incorporated advanced technology. They couldn’t be assembled in a hurry, as each bow required careful, intricate work. Ghislain nodded before asking another question.

“How many soldiers are left without equipment?”

Claude, wearing a similarly concerned expression, answered, “We’re barely at half capacity.”

They’d enlisted nearly 10,000 soldiers, but there hadn’t been enough time to arm them all in full galvanium armor. Even with an increase in production speed, the required quantities were massive. Only now did the vassals truly understand why their lord always urged haste. Lacking sufficient preparation had eroded their confidence, and their anxiety was growing louder in the main hall.

“The soldiers’ training is insufficient! We don’t even have the numbers to compete!”

“The 2nd Legion can hold them off for now, but we need to negotiate or delay to buy more time!”

“We should appeal to the Royalists for mediation right away!”

Most of the soldiers were still recruits, and even the galvanium armor wasn’t fully distributed. Given the overwhelming numbers, they couldn’t guarantee they’d fend off an assault. And even if they did, the casualties would be devastating.

As the chaotic discussions continued, a messenger rushed in, shouting, “The 2nd Legion has been wiped out!”

The faces of the vassals turned deathly pale. Their last hope, the Royalists, was now irrelevant.

“He really is insane...”

Someone muttered, feeling the unyielding resolve in Count Desmond’s drive to crush Fenris. That realization quickly turned to dread. Even if their lord was extraordinary, this time felt beyond hope.

Although Ghislain’s reasons differed slightly from the vassals, he also froze at the news of the 2nd Legion’s annihilation.

‘He was never this reckless.’

The Harold he remembered from his previous life wasn’t like this. He was methodical, focused solely on fulfilling the Duke’s orders with meticulous care and always cautious. When Ghislain heard Harold was amassing troops, he’d considered various possibilities. But based on the Harold he had once known, it seemed most likely he’d act during a civil conflict.

This behavior was entirely unlike Harold’s usual method.

‘I considered he might act alone...’

That’s why he was always busy, never stopping his efforts. Harold had simply moved faster than he expected.

‘He must have discarded everything.’

For even a large territory like Desmond’s, gathering 30,000 troops was a daunting task. Feeding and supplying them was no easier. Ignoring his ties to the Duke and the Royalists meant he was willing to throw away his life for this. In other words, Harold had risked everything to kill Ghislain.

A man fighting to protect what he cherishes is strong, but a man who has forsaken everything is terrifying.

‘Just as I once was.’

Fenris was not yet ready to face Desmond.

‘I grew complacent. I relied too much on my past knowledge.’

Ghislain chuckled wryly. Over-reliance on his past knowledge had been an issue, but he had also pushed Harold too far, forcing him into a corner. Harold was still a person with feelings and thoughts. When cornered, anyone could snap and act unpredictably.

Even though he had regressed, this didn’t make him omnipotent. The more he changed the future, the greater the subsequent uncertainty became.

Belinda, clearly displeased with the anxious vassals, stepped forward and exclaimed, “Young Master! Let me go! I’ll assassinate Count Desmond! His army will fall into chaos, and we’ll buy the time we need!”

“No, it won’t work.”

“I can do it!”

Belinda persisted, but Ghislain refused her offer. This time, Vanessa stepped forward.

“My Lord! We cannot surrender this place! I’ll defend it with everything I have!”

Alpoi tried to hold Vanessa back by her sleeve, but she shook him off and continued.

“We’ve developed this land together! If we all fight with our lives, we can stop them! Why is everyone so quiet? We’ve always won, haven’t we? Let’s set traps, do whatever it takes! I can attack non-stop with magic!”

Even at her impassioned plea, the others remained silent, averting their gaze. They understood her feelings, but it was a stubborn, hopeless stance.

The enemy’s reported strength alone was 30,000 soldiers, with eight siege towers and twelve catapults. Count Desmond’s personal mage was of the sixth circle, backed by dozens of other mages. Even if Vanessa unleashed her formidable power, they could easily counter her attacks.

‘Once magic cancels out, it becomes a battle of soldiers.’

‘Their knights exceed a hundred in number, and they’re not half-trained like ours.’

‘Desmond’s soldiers are highly disciplined. Ours are strong, but the gap in numbers is too great.’

The only fully equipped, trained soldiers they had were 4,000. Though it wasn’t a small force, compared to the enemy, it was vastly outnumbered.

Ghislain closed his eyes, deep in thought. He knew the danger in clashing now.

‘We could defend, but... our soldiers lack training and equipment. The damage would be enormous.’

He never thought of losing, but with heavy casualties, winning wouldn’t mean much. He needed to keep fighting, not only against the Duke’s forces but also against those lurking behind them.

‘Winning just once won’t mean anything.’

Even if he defeated Desmond, it wouldn’t be over. War would rise again soon after. Preparation had to be swift and thorough, minimizing losses so he could continue to resist his enemies.

‘If only I had more time...’

With support from his father and Marquis Branford, he could quickly reinforce his forces. By then, the new bows would be nearly finished. But there wasn’t even enough time for that. Defending now would mean losing nearly all the troops he’d built up until this point.

Desmond had chosen an ideal moment to act, leading an overwhelming force.

‘I have no choice. I’ll have to pull back this time and revise the plan.’

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With a decision made, Ghislain opened his eyes.

“Move all supplies and troops to the old Fenris region.”

At his words, the vassals all bowed their heads. Moving to Fenris meant abandoning the region of Cabaldi. The loss was inevitable, and they all shared in the regret.

‘What a shame... we’ve put so much into building this place.’

‘But there’s no choice. We can’t handle an army of 30,000 yet.’

‘We’ll regroup and strike later.’

The vassals felt a mix of disappointment and relief. If their lord had stubbornly insisted on fighting with untrained soldiers, that would’ve been disastrous. They still didn’t know about his regression and saw him as someone headstrong and relentless.

But Ghislain never acted recklessly. He weighed risks and time carefully, willing to take a chance only when success seemed feasible.

“We’ll establish our defenses around Fenris Fortress. Once we’re fully prepared, we’ll recapture Cabaldi.”

Claude nodded, visibly relieved. “The fortress expansions should allow us to hold out.”

“Right. Destroy all key facilities here, and move swiftly. Inform Gillian and Kaor to return as quickly as possible.”

Cabaldi had grown enormously, now even rich in iron ore deposits. Perhaps Count Desmond would be satisfied after claiming it. And even if he wasn’t, taking full control of Cabaldi would still require time.

‘Enjoy it while you can.’

For now, Ghislain would pull back. He’d regroup, strategize, and bide his time for a counterattack. It wouldn’t be easy to confront Desmond, strengthened by the territory, but it was a necessary step.

In accordance with Ghislain’s orders, the vassals hurried to calm the panicked populace. Ghislain went through the territory himself, reassuring the people.

“Don’t worry! Count Desmond won’t harm you. I’ll return soon!”

A land that developed needed its population. Harold wasn’t foolish enough to conduct a massacre. And with the 2nd Legion wiped out, there was no army to hinder Desmond’s advance. His forces were likely to arrive soon, even if their pace was slow.

Before long, large groups of recruits and supplies reached the lord’s castle. Gillian, hearing the news, had sent the soldiers he’d been training in the southern region. Ghislain tilted his head and asked.

“Where’s Gillian?”

Gillian, along with a hundred knights and a thousand soldiers stationed in the fort, hadn’t returned. Claude, looking troubled, handed Ghislain a letter.

As Ghislain read, his expression gradually hardened.

[My Lord, I understand that you’ve chosen to retreat because we aren’t fully prepared. But if we lose this place, who knows how long it will take to recover. We mustn’t give it up. You said that once the new bows and armaments were ready, we’d surely win. I’ll buy you the time you need. I still remember your words...]

– I’ll end the poverty in our lands. Not with a single drop of water, but with a rainstorm.

[...You achieved what everyone said was impossible. And I know that we need this place to fight tougher foes. So please, don’t give it up. I and the knights will buy you time. Keep preparing and be sure to win. Then... you won’t be a mere rain, but a storm covering the north.]

“Gillian...”

Ghislain’s expression grew somber, realizing Gillian was ready to lay down his life for his dream.

In the heavy silence, Claude handed over another letter.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from the knights stationed with him.”

Opening it, Ghislain saw each knight had written a brief message to their lord.

— Did our reckless lord get cold feet?

— We’ll hold them off. Don’t worry about it.

— Serves you right, acting all high and mighty.

— Why did you treat me like that?

— Too bad I won’t see your dumbfounded face.

It was full of bravado and insults, typical of those with a mercenary past. They had clearly said all they wanted in a letter they’d written, prepared to face death.

Ghislain found himself laughing.

After laughing for a while, he suddenly stopped and muttered, “Well, sometimes things don’t go according to plan. Plans are just plans, after all.”

Perfection in planning is an illusion. Responding to circumstances is natural. Only the end result matters.

“...You’re not thinking something crazy, are you?” Claude asked nervously, but Ghislain ignored him, speaking aloud.

“Retreating never sat well with me. I was too considerate. I didn’t think that way when fighting against the kingdom.”

Claude and the other vassals looked increasingly uneasy, sensing one of Ghislain’s rants coming on. Ghislain, however, continued.

“Keep training the soldiers.”

“Yes?”

“Continue producing the new bows and galvanium armor. Allocate all manpower to that task.”

“But, my Lord! You know there’s no chance of winning in a direct clash! That’s why you decided to retreat!”

“I’m not accepting any opposition. Trust in Gillian and the knights. We’ll finish our preparations and then go save them.”

Clenching the letter in his hand, Ghislain wore a fierce smile.

“Harold Desmond dies in this war.”