The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 277: I’ll Buy Us Some Time (4)

Harold nodded in satisfaction. Baron Hutton was one of Desmond's most skilled warriors, highly ranked for his combat prowess.

"Good. Don’t worry about anyone else—just focus on killing that one," he ordered.

"Understood," replied Baron Hutton, who immediately spurred his horse forward, eyes never leaving Gillian, the man relentlessly butchering Desmond's knights and soldiers with raw strength.

Under normal circumstances, even Baron Hutton wouldn't dare to claim victory against someone like Gillian. But now, he could see that Gillian's strength was waning, a result of the unending battles. Although Gillian’s aura remained ferocious, his power and speed had visibly diminished.

‘This should be manageable by now,’ Hutton thought.

Arriving close to the fortress wall, he dismounted and, with only two powerful leaps, ascended the ladder, landing lightly atop the wall. Fixing his gaze on Gillian, he drew his sword.

*Sching!*

The sharp sound reached Gillian, who slowly turned his head. Just the sound of the sword being drawn made it clear—this was no ordinary opponent.

‘Finally, a real threat,’ Gillian thought, shifting his stance to face Baron Hutton directly.

As Hutton closed the distance, his expression hardened. ‘This may very well be my last day.’

The man before him was a wounded, cornered beast—lethal and unpredictable, a single mistake away from tearing him to shreds. The raw ferocity emanating from Gillian made it hard for anyone to approach.

Without exchanging another word, they lunged at each other, weapons colliding in a brutal display of power.

*Clang!*

Each clash of axe and sword sent shockwaves through the air, a fierce pressure radiating outward as their weapons struck. Sparks flew with each collision as they moved at speeds that defied the eye.

*Crash! Crash!*

Soon, the area around them had cleared—soldiers from both sides backing away, unable to withstand the force of their fight.

*Boom!*

Gillian’s axe came down hard toward Hutton’s head, but Hutton intercepted it, deflecting the strike with his sword.

*Clang!*

The sheer force of the impact threw them both slightly off-balance, leaving a brief opening. Hutton eyed Gillian with a sharp gaze and spoke.

“I’d heard that most of the Fenris Count’s followers were mercenaries. What’s your name?”

“Gillian.”

“A mere mercenary, but you’re quite capable. I am Baron Hutton, the one who will kill you today.”

Gillian sneered, his eyes flashing with fierce resolve.

“You’re a brat, talking all high and mighty like that.”

Hutton’s eyebrow twitched slightly. Though Gillian looked older, Hutton was well into middle age himself and hadn’t expected to be called young by anyone. But Gillian wasn’t done; as a veteran mercenary, he had survived on brutal honesty, and Hutton’s attempt at intimidation meant little to him.

“I’ve heard plenty of pompous fools talk like you. Most are buried now. A sword doesn’t care about age or rank.”

Hutton chuckled in response.

“Quite disrespectful. Well, we’ll see who gets buried today.”

*Clang!*

They clashed again, their battle radiating a primal energy that seemed to transform their surroundings. Soldiers on both sides paused, retreating from the increasing range of their violent confrontation. Anyone too close risked getting shredded by the shockwaves.

*Crash! Crash!*

The ground cracked beneath their feet, debris flying everywhere with enough force to knock down nearby soldiers. Hutton’s swordsmanship was flawless—precise and efficient, a testament to his years as a knight.

The knights from both Fenris and Desmond’s sides were captivated.

‘Incredible...’

‘He’s like a living manual of swordsmanship.’

‘The world is full of truly skilled people.’

Most of the Fenris knights had only seen Ghislain's swordsmanship. But Ghislain’s technique was so advanced that they couldn’t even begin to grasp it. Sometimes his movements were graceful, almost artful; other times, they were savagely destructive. He adapted with incredible fluidity, making his style difficult to follow, much less emulate.

In contrast, Baron Hutton’s technique was the epitome of knightly swordsmanship, the very model of precision and control.

*Boom!*

Gillian, on the other hand, fought like a ravenous beast. His movements radiated lethal intent, and anyone who took their eyes off him, even for a second, would be torn to pieces. Desmond’s knights couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration for his style.

‘Purely practical.’

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‘It’s impossible to predict where his next strike will come from.’

‘How does he even move like that?’

Every swing of his axe came down like a bolt of lightning, overwhelming in power and speed. To the knights, both men were monsters, each formidable in his own way.

*Slash!*

As Hutton’s sword grazed past, cuts opened up on Gillian’s arms and legs, blood splattering. Hutton, however, remained unscathed, his face growing tense.

‘I can’t land a fatal hit.’

Despite the wounds he bore, Gillian was relentless, absorbing every blow and pressing forward. Though Gillian had more injuries, it was Hutton who felt himself slowly being overpowered.

Gillian’s axe slashed with brutal force, always at sharp, unpredictable angles. Even a minor mistake would cost Hutton dearly.

‘A slippery bastard,’ thought Gillian, eyes blazing as he stared down Hutton.

Normally, opponents broke under Gillian’s relentless onslaught, their stances faltering. But Hutton remained as steady as a calm lake, unfazed and utterly composed.

‘It won’t end like this.’

They both realized it would come down to endurance. But they didn’t have time to draw this out. Every eye was on them, both sides waiting to pounce once one man fell.

‘Time to end this,’ thought Gillian.

He adjusted his stance, leaving his chest exposed as he gripped his axe.

‘Come and take it.’

It was a taunt and a trap, but Hutton saw it and accepted the challenge. With a glint in his eye, he lunged, driving his sword straight for Gillian’s heart, even as Gillian’s axe came down on him.

The simplest and most primal of moves—victory would depend on who was stronger and faster.

*Shing!*

Hutton’s sword, charged with mana, flashed forward.

*Thud!*

Before Gillian’s axe could complete its swing, Hutton’s sword buried itself deep in his chest. Feeling the blade cut through flesh, Hutton smiled.

‘It’s over.’

But he hadn’t counted on Gillian’s sheer tenacity.

“...?!”

Even with his heart pierced, Gillian’s axe continued its deadly arc, his face twisted in a maniacal grin. Instinctively, Hutton let go of his sword and leapt back.

*Crack!*

The axe cleaved into Hutton’s chest plate, shattering it and ripping open his chest. Overwhelmed by searing pain, Hutton staggered to his knees, his eyes filled with confusion as he looked at Gillian.

‘How? I’m sure I struck his heart...’

Hutton examined the sword’s placement, realizing it was just slightly off.

‘Did he adjust his stance as he swung?’

Using his final attack to shift his stance, Gillian had bet his life on barely altering his position, leaving just enough room for a minor injury rather than a mortal wound.

Blood gushing from his chest, Hutton collapsed to one knee, coughing up blood.

“Baron!”

Desmond’s knights rushed to support the bleeding Hutton. Though gravely injured, he was still breathing.

“Quickly! Get him to safety!”

Supported by his knights, Hutton retreated. Gillian, swaying, staggered back and yanked the sword from his chest, his hand trembling.

‘Didn’t manage to kill him.’

Gillian grimaced, acknowledging Hutton’s skill; the man had instinctively pulled back just in time, lessening the blow.

“Captain!”

Fenris’s knights rushed to Gillian’s side, helping him stand. Though he kept himself upright, his condition was critical. Blood poured from his chest wound, even as he clenched his jaw to mask the pain.

The two sides gripped their weapons, tension simmering in the air, both sides locked in a brief lull.

Fenris’s knights, panting and bleeding, steadied their nerves.

‘Damn... feels like my body’s about to collapse.’

‘Not much time left.’

‘Let’s take down as many as we can.’

Despite their exhaustion, they refused to yield, knowing that showing weakness would invite a renewed assault.

*Boom! Boom! Boom!*

Suddenly, the drums sounded, and Desmond’s forces began to retreat slowly. They encircled Hutton, protecting him as they withdrew.

Seeing their enemy pull back, the Fenris soldiers exhaled in relief.

‘Thank goodness.’

‘We got lucky.’

‘If it weren’t for the captain, we’d be done for.’

Had Hutton remained, Desmond’s forces wouldn’t have relented. But Gillian’s resilience had convinced Harold otherwise, leading even him to misjudge Fenris’s strength.

As soon as Desmond’s forces were gone, Gillian spat out blood and spoke.

“Set up a perimeter and rest. Stay alert and ready for battle.”

Although he was visibly injured, he stood tall, which prompted the knights to speak up.

"Captain, are you sure you're okay? You need to lie down and get treated."

"Hey! Where’s the medic? Bring some bandages over here!"

As the knights fretted around him, Gillian waved them off.

“It’s fine. You all should rest and recover your mana. I'll handle my own wounds.”

Gillian gritted his teeth, enduring the pain with a steely expression. He had to walk himself to the command post and treat his injuries alone. He couldn’t show weakness—not when every soldier looked to him for strength.

Slowly, Gillian began to make his way back, each step a heavy reminder of his injuries.

Meanwhile, Harold, who had observed the entire battle, had come to a new conclusion. He turned to his officers and spoke.

“It seems it would be more efficient to deploy all our siege weapons and mages to destroy the fortress outright.”