The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 428: I Will Save You (2)

As soon as Ghislain finished speaking, two individuals threw themselves to the ground, shouting in desperation.

“We’re innocent! We tried to stop him!”

“This was all the count’s doing!”

Count Grafton had never been the kind of lord who inspired loyalty. The steward and treasurer were already prepared to confess before any threats or coercion.

As Ghislain approached, they cried out again, still prostrated.

“We know where the stockpile is!”

“It’s not far from here!”

Hearing this, Count Grafton turned pale and screamed, “You idiots! Shut up! Keep your mouths shut!”

But it was too late. The two men spilled everything they knew.

Count Grafton had secretly built an underground warehouse in a nearby village to hide the medicinal materials. It also housed a production facility where medicine was being manufactured.

After listening to their confession, Ghislain nodded.

“Gillian, take the soldiers and confirm their claims. Use these two as guides.”

“Yes, my lord,” Gillian replied, escorting the trembling men away.

Count Grafton, however, continued his tirade, shouting in desperation.

“What are you doing? Attack them! The northern army is still outside the outer wall! Fight them now and prepare for war!”

He had nothing left to lose. If he was to be ruined, he figured he might as well go down fighting.

But despite his orders, none of his knights or soldiers moved against Ghislain. Though they greatly outnumbered the northern contingent present, no one dared to take the first step.

Whispers among the ranks:

“Fight the Count of Fenris? A Master?”“One of the strongest in the kingdom?”“Even if we all rush him, can we win?”While it was possible that overwhelming numbers could bring down a Master, no one wanted to be the first to charge. The first attacker would undoubtedly lose their head.

Moreover, the northern army’s reputation was at an all-time high. Their victories against the riftspawn and their disciplined tactics were well-known.

Even though only a small detachment was present, the full northern army of 80,000 soldiers was waiting outside. If they decided to invade, Count Grafton’s forces would be crushed in no time.

Loyalty to Count Grafton wasn’t worth risking their lives for.

One of the knight commanders hesitated, nervously muttering, “Perhaps we should wait and see how this unfolds, my lord...”

“You idiot! Is that what you call loyalty? ‘Wait and see?’ What results do you need to see?” Count Grafton roared in fury.

The absurdity of the situation drew a chuckle from Ghislain. He leaned back into his chair, folding his arms.

“I really don’t like doing things this way,” he murmured.

Though no one believed him, Ghislain genuinely valued freedom. His time as a mercenary had made him disdain forceful tactics, but the world and circumstances constantly pushed him into these roles.

While waiting for Gillian’s return, Count Grafton continued his rant, growing more desperate.

“Kill him! Don’t let him leave! If he meddles with me, the other lords will rise against him! Does he intend to fight every noble in the kingdom?”

But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Even his own allies ignored him.

If they had attacked Ghislain immediately, they might have ridden the momentum into a full-blown fight. But now the mood had shifted; nobody dared to move.

After some time, Gillian returned, his expression resolute.

“We found it.”

“How much?” Ghislain asked.

“Too much to count without further inspection, but there are tens of thousands of bottles of medicine already manufactured. There’s also a significant stockpile of raw materials.”

“Gluttonous bastard,” Ghislain muttered, rising from his seat with an icy glare fixed on Count Grafton.

“Strip him of his title. Lock him in a cell. His lands are hereby confiscated by the crown and will later be granted to someone deserving.”

Count Grafton’s face turned ashen.

“This... this isn’t lawful! You can’t do this! You can’t just take my land without a fight!”

The northern soldiers bound him tightly and dragged him to his feet.

Even as he was hauled away, Count Grafton screamed hysterically.

“Fight them! Attack them now! How can you stand by while this madness unfolds? I am your lord! Not even the king has the right to do this to me!”

But his knights and advisors simply averted their gazes.

Many among his retainers thought to themselves:

“He’s gone too far this time.”“People are dying of plague, and the rifts are threatening us all.”“We were lucky to avoid the rifts ourselves. It’s the northern army that’s handling all of it.”No one was willing to put their lives on the line for Count Grafton.

Seeing the hesitation, Ghislain pointed at several of the knights and issued a new order.

“You, take this message to the neighboring territories: prepare the medicine and deliver it. If they resist, they will face the same consequences.”

“Yes, my lord!” the knights replied promptly.

The nearby territories, which had also hoarded medicinal materials and failed to cooperate, were already under suspicion. With the northern army’s efficiency and Ghislain’s decisive actions, they wouldn’t be able to evade accountability.

If any resisted, Ghislain was prepared to deal with them just as he had with Count Grafton. There was no time for leniency.

Turning to Count Grafton’s retainers, Ghislain addressed them directly.

“This punishment is for the count alone. Arresting all of you would destabilize the territory. Fenris administrators will oversee this land until a new lord is appointed. Cooperate with them.”

“Understood,” the retainers replied, bowing their heads.

There was no room for argument.

Ghislain then turned to Gillian.

“Plan a way to distribute the reclaimed medicine quickly. Prioritize areas where the plague is most rampant.”

Having made his point with a clear example, it was time to move forward.

***

The plague was spreading at an alarming rate.

Many townsfolk had been in contact with soldiers who fought at the rifts, but the problem was far worse than that. Merchants, messengers, adventurers, and mercenaries—all carriers—moved freely between territories, unknowingly accelerating the plague’s reach.

The plague spread faster than the distribution of medicine could keep up.

Even though Ghislain had proactively established production facilities and stockpiled medicine, the cooperation of the local lords was minimal at best. They doubted his warnings and hesitated to take losses for the greater good.

When the plague finally began ravaging the kingdom, production ramped up, but it was too late for many towns and cities.

The abandoned cities became places of despair.

In one such city, cries of anguish echoed through the empty streets.

“Where is the lord? Why isn’t he doing anything?”

“They said there’s medicine... Why won’t they give it to us?”

“We’ve been abandoned. Left to die...”

People who once walked upright were now bedridden, plagued by fever and red blotches that marred their skin. Those still healthy avoided the sick, but even they eventually fell ill as the hidden contagion surfaced.

The nobles and administrators had long since fled, unknowingly spreading the plague to other territories as they ran.

This city had been forsaken.

Production halted, merchants stopped coming, and the local economy collapsed. With no food or resources, people began to starve.

Corpses filled the streets and homes.

Those who were still able to move attempted to clear the bodies, covering their faces with scraps of cloth, but they too eventually succumbed.

Death loomed over the entire city.

Despair itself was a luxury they could no longer afford. Exhausted and hopeless, the only thing they could do was await death.

A young girl sat by her mother’s bedside.

“Mom...”

She placed her small fingers under her mother’s nose, searching for a faint breath.

Her mother was still alive, though her body was covered in red blotches, and her fever was dangerously high.

We have no food...

It had been days since they last ate. The girl realized they would likely starve before the plague took them.

Staggering to her feet, she resolved to do something.

I have to find food...

In a city abandoned by its lord and cut off from outside aid, finding food was an impossible task.

Still, she ventured outside.

The girl’s body was already showing signs of the plague. Her skin was speckled with red blotches, and her fever made her weak, but she could still walk.

It’s so cold...

Despite her fever, chills racked her body. She hugged herself tightly to ward off the biting cold that seemed to seep into her bones.

She passed silent, empty streets where bustling life had once thrived. The once-lively fruit vendor, the smiling shopkeeper, even the thuggish troublemakers were nowhere to be found.

Everyone had fallen to the plague.

I need to leave the city...

There was nothing left here. Food was gone, and the people were too sick to help.

The girl’s plan was simple—venture outside the city and hunt whatever small animal she could find. Though the task was beyond her strength, she had no other choice.

Her hollowed eyes fixed ahead as she willed her frail body forward.

Leaving the city wasn’t difficult. Even the guards had succumbed, leaving the gates unattended.

It’s so cold...

Hugging her trembling body, she trudged onward. But her vision began to blur, the world spinning around her.

Thud.

The girl collapsed just beyond the city gates.

“Mom...”

She recalled the rumors. The lord and nobles supposedly had medicine, and some whispered that help was coming.

But no one came.

No one had come to save them.

She tried to rise, but her strength had long since left her. Days without food and the relentless fever had reduced her to nothing more than a fragile shell.

I have to get up...

Her mother’s survival depended on her, but her body refused to obey. The most she could manage was a faint flutter of her eyelids.

Please...

With the last vestiges of her strength, she prayed.

Please, someone... anyone...

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Her silent cries for help were answered by nothing but the cold wind. Finally, her eyelids drooped shut.

Flutter.

Warmth enveloped her shivering body.

At the same time, a cool, refreshing sensation filled her mouth. It coursed through her veins, banishing the fever and rekindling a spark of vitality.

“Ah...”

The girl’s eyes slowly opened.

She found herself wrapped in a luxurious cloak, cradled in the arms of a man.

“Wh-Who are you...?” she whispered.

The man replied in a calm, steady voice.

“Ghislain Ferdium, lord of Fenris and commander of the northern army.”

The girl didn’t understand the significance of his title, but she could tell he was someone important. His clean hair, flawless skin, and richly adorned attire marked him as a noble of the highest order.

With a trembling voice, she pleaded.

“Help us...”

Ghislain didn’t respond immediately.

Tears welled in her eyes as she clung to his arm, her voice breaking.

“Please... help us... My mom... Everyone... They’re all dying...”

Finally, Ghislain nodded, his voice firm and reassuring.

“Don’t worry.”

His tone exuded absolute confidence, as though no obstacle was too great for him to overcome.

But the girl’s doubt remained. Everyone in the city was dying. How could one noble save them all?

Her lips trembled as she gripped his arm tighter.

“They... abandoned us. No one came. No one came to save us. Please... just tell someone. Bring medicine... food...”

Ghislain gently shook his head.

“No, you haven’t been abandoned. Look behind me.”

The girl turned her head, her breath hitching.

What she saw left her speechless.

Stretching to the horizon was an army, their banners billowing in the wind as they marched toward the city.

The rumble of countless wagons laden with food and medicine echoed across the plains.

Tears blurred her vision as she looked back at the man holding her.

Through her sobs, she could still hear his resolute words.

“I will save you all.”