The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 283: Not Alone (1)

Gillian gazed at the pursuing forces of Desmond’s army before him with tired eyes.

‘They’re truly relentless...’

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For days, he and his knights had launched several ambushes. While initially caught off guard, Desmond’s forces gradually grew more alert and responsive. As a result, the effectiveness of their surprise attacks waned. Recently, they’d been too busy fleeing from Desmond’s relentless pursuit to even think about launching another ambush.

He looked back.

In the distance, thousands of cavalry were slowly closing in. This "pursuit force" consisted of a staggering 3,000 soldiers—comparable to the military power of an entire territory—deployed solely to capture them.

‘To be able to field such a force...’

These were not men to be taken lightly. The pursuit force had strategically split off from the main army, blocking all possible escape routes for the Fenris forces, driving them to this desolate area like prey in a hunt.

Gillian took a deep breath.

‘Is this the end...?’

They were now on a vast plain, with no forests or mountains to conceal themselves between here and the heart of Fenris. Desmond’s army had advanced faster than expected, enduring casualties to ensure they trapped their prey.

There was no escape left. Their only option was to fight head-on.

“Prepare for battle.”

At Gillian’s quiet command, the knights and soldiers raised their weapons. Their faces were dark and weary from exhaustion.

When they had escaped from the fortress, they hadn’t even managed to bring horses, let alone enough provisions. They’d been fighting continuously without rest, so injuries and fatigue were inevitable. They’d lost more than half of their soldiers in the repeated clashes.

Yet, despite the exhaustion, there was a fierce glint in their eyes, a determination to take down as many enemies as possible.

With a bitter smile, Gillian spoke again.

“Form a circular defense.”

The formation began shifting into a circle, with soldiers raising spears and shields to prepare for the cavalry assault. They had no strongholds or favorable terrain to rely on, and with their exhaustion, they could only brace themselves against attacks from all sides.

As the Fenris forces arranged their formation, Desmond’s army completed their encirclement.

Baron Hutton, who led the pursuit, looked at the Fenris soldiers with a satisfied grin.

“Finally, we’ve cornered those rats.”

Gillian’s ambushes had been swift and powerful, forcing Desmond’s forces to slow their march. But Desmond’s troops weren’t easily manipulated; despite their sacrifices, they had successfully orchestrated this outcome. Now, they could finally unleash their pent-up anger.

Drawing his sword, Baron Hutton gave the order.

“End this.”

Desmond’s soldiers began to tighten the noose, closing in on the Fenris forces.

Gillian raised his shield and stepped forward, shouting, “Here they come!”

As his words fell, dozens of fireballs shot forth from Desmond’s ranks.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Gillian gritted his teeth, blocking the magic attacks with his shield. His fellow knights did the same. Thankfully, without Willow, a sixth-circle mage, these attacks were manageable.

Whoosh!

Along with the magic, countless arrows rained down. Desmond’s forces knew these would be mostly ineffective, as the Fenris soldiers’ sturdy armor and dispel magic provided ample protection.

This was simply a war of attrition, Desmond’s strategy to exhaust the stamina and mana of Fenris’s forces.

Tat-tat-tat-tat! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Each volley rocked the circular formation, and the Fenris forces could only huddle defensively like a turtle, enduring the barrage. After a while, the long-range attacks ceased, and Desmond’s cavalry began to move.

Having taken a beating, the Fenris forces appeared drained even before the cavalry clash. In truth, even without the earlier attacks, their prolonged exposure to the elements had left them in terrible condition.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Seeing the advancing cavalry, the Fenris knights laughed.

Lucas, known as the "lonely whiner" and self-proclaimed "genius spearman," voiced his true feelings.

“Hey, if I’m being honest, I thought about running away in the middle. These guys are no joke. They’re nothing like the ones we’ve fought before.”

“Hah, coward. I knew you’d be scared.”

“Well, if it’s come to this, let’s kill as many as we can. The Count will avenge us.”

Yes, their lord would surely avenge them. He was not one to let grievances go unanswered.

With that thought, they could laugh, even as they faced death.

Boom!

Finally, the two forces collided. The Fenris knights deftly evaded the cavalry charge and countered by taking down horses and riders alike. At first, the infantry managed to repel the cavalry with their spears.

But the enemy numbers were overwhelming. They simply couldn’t hold back the entire cavalry with their current forces.

Boom!

“Aaaargh!”

The second wave of Desmond’s cavalry crashed into the Fenris soldiers, scattering them.

While the Fenris soldiers had strong defenses, they lacked the agility of knights. They bore the full impact of the cavalry charge, and after just two collisions, their circular formation began to crumble.

“Get up! If you stay down, you’ll die for real!”

“Keep it together!”

“Hold out a little longer!”

The Fenris knights fought bravely, cutting down nearby cavalry, but as the battle devolved into chaos, they inevitably found themselves overwhelmed. Unlike the narrow passes at the fortress, they were now open to attacks from all directions.

Gillian’s face twisted into a grim smile.

‘This will be our last battle. If I’m going to die anyway, I’ll take as many of them down as I can.’

Boom!

The Fenris knights fought with the frenzy of men on the edge, every ounce of strength poured into the battle.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

None of them held back, exuding an intense killing intent to take down as many enemies as possible.

Especially Gillian. He discarded his shield and wielded an axe in each hand, hacking mercilessly at the enemies surrounding him, paying no mind to his own injuries.

Slash! Slash! Boom!

The approaching soldiers of Desmond’s army were ground into a bloody mess, their screams filling the plains.

“Aaaah! These monsters!”

“Push harder! They’re exhausted!”

“This is the end for them, those wretched scum!”

Desmond’s soldiers were also desperate. These men had forced them into exhausting maneuvers and had cost them many lives. Finally, the time had come to end the nightmare. If they showed fear now, they wouldn’t be considered elite soldiers.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Aaaaargh!”

“Woooooo!”

The battlefield echoed with screams and cries, immersed in a frenzied haze of violence. Both sides were so engrossed in killing that they could think of nothing else.

But such madness couldn’t last forever. As time passed, Desmond’s forces grew stronger while the Fenris soldiers weakened.

“Hrrgh...”

Thud.

One of the Fenris knights, who had been fighting like a man possessed, collapsed, a bitter smile escaping his lips. Hidden by his helmet, no one could see his face, but the inside of his helmet was drenched in the blood he had coughed up.

Thud.

Another knight fell. It wasn’t only the knights; the infantry had long since collapsed, their bodies twitching on the ground. Their heavy armor had kept them alive, but the accumulated shocks and exhaustion left them unable to rise.

“Get up! Get up and kill more of them!”

Gillian alone roared, still cutting down foes in a frenzied state.

His fierce resistance made it difficult for Desmond’s forces to approach him, but they soon noticed something odd about the state of the Fenris soldiers.

“Are they finally exhausted?”

“They look strange. What’s going on?”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

As Desmond’s forces pulled back slightly, the remaining Fenris knights began collapsing one by one. Seeing that their opponents were falling of their own accord, Desmond’s soldiers ceased their attack and merely maintained the encirclement.

In the end, almost all of the Fenris knights had fallen or sat slumped, blood dripping down from beneath their helmets. Gillian alone remained standing.

Looking at his fallen comrades, Gillian whispered sorrowfully, “Get up... Fight on...”

His face seemed to have aged several years over the past few days. The fierce light in his eyes had dulled, resembling the last moments of a dying lion.

A figure emerged from the ranks of Desmond’s soldiers as they parted.

“Baron Hutton...”

Gillian gripped his axe tightly. His hands trembled, but he had to kill this man. Reducing this man’s threat would save lives in future battles.

Baron Hutton unsheathed his sword, his gaze as cold and arrogant as ever. Their weapons clashed as they lunged at each other.

Boom!

With a single strike, Gillian staggered back, too fatigued to block the baron’s powerful attacks.

Boom! Boom!

“Ugh...”

Each clash left Gillian with fresh wounds and stumbling. Though Baron Hutton hadn’t fully recovered, he’d received enough treatment and rest to vastly outmatch the exhausted Gillian.

Clang!

After a flurry of strikes, Gillian dropped one of his axes, and the other was shattered from the impact.

Crack!

Baron Hutton’s sword tore through Gillian’s breastplate with a brutal slash.

Thud.

Blood spurted from Gillian’s chest as he staggered, eventually collapsing to his knees. He looked up at Baron Hutton with tired eyes, confusion flickering in his gaze as he wondered why he hadn’t been killed yet.

Baron Hutton raised his blood-stained sword and spoke.

“Gillian.”

“...”

“Even though you’re a lowly mercenary, it would be a waste to kill you in a battle like this. I’ll give you one last chance. Surrender.”

“...I refuse.”

Baron Hutton’s brow twitched, unable to comprehend Gillian’s response.

“Why? Aren’t you just a mercenary? Why are you so willing to risk your life for Count Fenris? Is a contract really worth this much?”

“It’s not... about a contract.”

At first, it had been gratitude for saving his daughter’s life. He’d been prepared to give his own life in return. But over time, Gillian’s perspective had shifted as he observed Ghislain up close.

Ghislain was a rare sort of person. Though a noble, he didn’t care about status and treated everyone as equals. Despite not being a mercenary, he had the heart and loyalty of one, often more so than other mercenaries. Ghislain had saved the territory multiple times through his strange yet insightful knowledge. He protected others with a determination that was almost incomprehensible.

Watching Ghislain perform the impossible time and again, Gillian had grown to genuinely respect him, viewing him not merely as a benefactor but as someone worthy of absolute loyalty. This was no longer about a debt; it was about something deeper.

Loyalty.

Gillian had finally found someone worth his undying loyalty and trust. And, in a rare moment, he found Ghislain’s unpredictability and wit amusing.

As he thought of this, a faint smile crept onto Gillian’s face.

Baron Hurtun stared, baffled at the sight, unable to understand Gillian’s deep loyalty to Count Fenris.

“Why? Why would you follow that kid? Do you truly believe Count Fenris can conquer the North? Do you really think he can defeat the Duke?”

“If it’s the lord... he can do it.”

“Ridiculous! Those are nothing but the dreams of a fool! Dreams should stay dreams!”

“His dream...” Gillian lifted his head slowly to look directly at Baron Hutton, his expression now peaceful, “...is my dream.”

“You...!”

Baron Hutton raised his sword, conflicted yet compelled to end it. But just as he steeled himself to deliver the killing blow—

Whistle!

Clang!

A sudden arrow whistled through the air, striking Baron Hutton’s sword, shattering it upon impact, and piercing his chest.

“Urgh!”

Baron Hutton stumbled back, clutching his chest as he staggered. Desmond’s soldiers, shocked, looked on in disbelief. Baron Hutton was an elite knight, yet he’d been wounded by a mere arrow. Even Gillian, who knew the baron’s strength well, stared in astonishment.

Only one person in the North could accomplish such a feat.

Someone whose strength seemed to grow more monstrous with each passing day.

Gillian’s heart pounded. He heard the sound of galloping horses, the ground trembling in sync with his heartbeat.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!

No battle horns, no war cries, only the relentless beat of hooves.

Gillian slowly turned his head.

“...Ah.”

The sight he’d longed to see stretched out before him.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!

Across the vast plain, the red banner of the wolf—a symbol of everything he held dear—filled the horizon. At its lead was the person he’d waited for, the one he yearned to see the most.

“Gillian—!”

With glowing red eyes, Ghislain was charging forward faster than anyone else, racing toward him.