The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 453: Speak Honestly (1)

Crack!

A cold-faced woman smashed someone’s skull with her mace.

The victim wore a black robe, his body adorned with the tattoo of a black sun. He was one of the Judicators, high priests of the Salvation Order.

“Hah...”

The woman exhaled deeply, straightened her back, and stood upright. Her long hair fluttered in the wind.

The countless corpses strewn around her were evidence of the fierce battle that had just taken place here.

The woman, though alive, bore wounds across her body, and exhaustion was written all over her face.

“These bastards seem stronger than before... How could this have happened...”

Her voice trailed off in contemplation, but before she could lose herself in thought, a group of people came rushing toward her from a distance.

“Saintess!”

“Saintess, are you all right?”

“Let us tend to your wounds!”

The ones rushing toward her were priests of Moriana, the Goddess of War. They surrounded the woman, whom they referred to as Saintess, and began channeling divine power.

The priests, all of whom were older men, appeared comically small next to her. From a distance, it might have seemed like a towering adult standing among children.

But this was merely an illusion caused by her massive stature.

Her shoulders were broad, her muscles rippling beneath her skin, and her physique exuded raw power. She could likely knock out most grown men with a single flick of her finger.

It was a sight befitting the Saintess chosen by the Goddess of War.

The Saintess, Parniel, turned her head and asked, “The high priests of the Salvation Order are gathering in the Kingdom of Ruthania. Do you know anything about this?”

A priest bowed his head and responded, “It appears a coalition army has been formed in Ruthania. The Salvation Order’s priests seem to be gathering to counter them.”

“I see. So that’s where the heart of the conflict lies. If those cockroaches are all converging there...”

“It might be best to leave that matter to those stationed there. For now, you should return and recover—”

“No, I’m going to Ruthania,” Parniel declared.

“Saintess! The Grand Archbishop has commanded that you return!”

The priests, startled, tried to dissuade her, but Parniel shook her head firmly.

“If the Salvation Order’s priests are gathering, there must be someone of higher rank than the priests there. Or perhaps there’s an important reason they’re focusing on that location. Either way, I need to go.”

Clutching her blood-stained mace tightly, Parniel continued, “The high priests of the Salvation Order wield strength comparable to superhumans. Ordinary people cannot stand against them. I have been entrusted by the Goddess herself to eradicate them—who else can fight them as effectively as I?”

Moriana, the Goddess of War, symbolized honor, battle, victory, and authority. She was revered by knights, warriors, and mercenaries—those who lived by the sword.

Parniel, chosen by such a goddess, bore the divine mission of eradicating the Salvation Order.

Because of this, she believed it was her duty, and hers alone, to confront them.

“Saintess, Ruthania is a military powerhouse. There are many strong warriors there already.”

“There’s no need for us to go all the way there. Aren’t there other urgent matters we need to address?”

Despite their protests, Parniel remained steadfast. Her voice turned resolute.

“The priests of the Salvation Order and the Rift beasts are countered by divine power. Who else can deal with them as effectively as I? There is only one Saintess in this world, and that is me.”

There could only be one Saintess at a time. Until the current Saintess passed, no other could be chosen, even by different faiths.

Currently, the Goddess of War’s Saintess reigned.

This fact, however, had been concealed by the various religious orders for centuries. A Saintess chosen by the Goddess of War was considered an ominous omen, a harbinger of calamity.

Save for a select few, the existence of a Saintess in Moriana’s faith was entirely unknown.

Parniel, acutely aware of her responsibility, felt the weight of her divine mission pressing upon her.

“I was born in this era because the Goddess ordained it. Why else would the Goddess of War send me?”

Her words left the priests speechless. Indeed, the timing was too precise to be a mere coincidence.

From birth, Parniel had been endowed with divine power, granting her strength far beyond that of ordinary people.

Alone, such a gift might have been considered extraordinary but limited. After all, strength alone without mastery of mana had its boundaries.

However, upon being chosen as the Saintess and receiving divine power, Parniel became a true weapon of war.

It was impossible to deny that this was all part of the divine will to fight the Salvation Order.

“...Very well,” one of the priests relented.

“We will prepare the route to Ruthania,” another added.

“Let us at least ensure you meet with the coalition’s leaders.”

The priests, knowing they couldn’t dissuade Parniel, gave up their resistance. They were well aware of her unyielding will.

Stopping her by force was even less feasible.

After all, she had once been counted among the Seven Strongest on the Continent in a previous life, earning the title of “Saintess of War.”

***

The priests of the Salvation Order, under Gathros’s command, began gathering with the aim of seizing control of the Kingdom of Ruthania.

However, Gathros and Raul had failed to anticipate a critical consequence of their mobilization. As the priests of the Salvation Order converged, so too did those who opposed them. One by one, their adversaries began making their way to Ruthania.

Already, Ereneth, the High Chief of the Elves, had allied with Ghislain, and Parniel, the Saintess of War, was also on her way to the kingdom.

To add to the growing tension, several allied nations had dispatched parts of their armies to face the forces of the Duke of Delphine.

Thanks to Ghislain’s efforts, Ruthania had become the epicenter of conflict, drawing the attention of all the continent’s major powers.

Mercenaries from across the land were also flocking to join the fray, rapidly growing into a formidable force.

“Most of the mercenaries from the Kingdom of Ceylon have joined the Fenris Mercenary Corps!”

“More than half of the mercenaries from the Kingdom of Grimwell have enlisted in Fenris’s ranks!”

“The new recruits are extremely satisfied with the benefits we’re providing!”

Reports poured in from every corner of the continent, and Ghislain smiled as he listened.

“It’s progressing faster than expected. Very good. Make sure the new recruits have plenty of food and money. Spare no expense.”

Even before the Rift cleanup was complete, Dominic and parts of the Fenris Mercenary Corps had been dispatched to establish branches in various kingdoms.

With the local rulers of these nations backing the effort, administrative processes were expedited, enabling rapid progress.

The rulers themselves had no choice but to comply with Ghislain’s agreements, as they needed to retain their mercenaries for domestic purposes.

While the fast-paced progress was impressive, it also generated an enormous administrative workload—something Ghislain didn’t handle himself. Instead, he had brought along others specifically for this purpose.

“Aaaargh! Enough! Please, let me go back to the estate!”

Claude, stationed in the northern army camp, screamed daily as he buried himself under mountains of paperwork.

When Ghislain had summoned Claude and the other administrators, they had assumed their duties would be limited to assisting the allied forces. However, before they realized it, they found themselves in the northern army’s camp, managing all sorts of administrative tasks.

“Damn it! Why is there so much work? Why is he taking on so much at once? Why doesn’t it ever end? Stop bringing me more reports!”

It dawned on Claude that he wouldn’t be returning to Fenris anytime soon.

Where Ghislain was, so too was the heart of Fenris’s operations. Everything had to be managed and disseminated from this central hub.

The biggest challenge was handling the mercenaries. With 20,000 mercenaries spreading across various kingdoms and recruiting more by the day, the workload was staggering. Supplies and provisions had to be distributed in quantities that defied belief.

“Can’t the western territories just handle themselves? Why can’t they just declare independence or something?”

The next major concern was stabilizing the western territories. Infrastructure projects had to be finalized, and entry routes for the allied forces secured. This added another mountain of paperwork.

Ghislain had delegated all of this to Claude.

“Just kill me already...”

Claude and the other administrators slogged through their tasks in a daze. Whenever they collapsed from sheer exhaustion, Piote would appear to heal them and leave just as quickly.

Ereneth, observing the scene with interest, remarked, “I thought he was a frivolous man, but it seems he’s more competent than I expected. Since we’re now ‘family,’ I suppose I should help you.”

“What help? I just want to sleep! I haven’t slept in three days! Can Mother Nature handle paperwork too?”

“Not quite, but I’ve thought of a good solution.”

Ereneth approached Claude, who was sprawled on the ground, feigning collapse to buy some time.

A soft green glow began to emanate from her outstretched hand.

“This won’t match divine power, but the energy of nature will restore your vitality. The spirits will also assist you with your tasks.”

“No, don’t—!”

Whoosh!

The green light enveloped Claude, filling him with a refreshing energy. He felt his body regain strength as water spirits cleansed his face, wind spirits dried him off, and fire spirits warmed his limbs.

Earth spirits, meanwhile, adjusted his posture by supporting his feet and thighs.

“Why my posture?!”

“So you can sit comfortably and work for long hours without harming your health.”

“Aaaargh! Why can’t I ever be happy?!”

Now, with Ereneth joining Piote, Claude found himself unable to rest. Even the spirits seemed determined to force him to work.

It seemed the only way to escape was death itself.

Completely oblivious to his plight, Ereneth gave him a motherly smile. “There’s no need to thank me. Didn’t we agree to be like family?”

“Oh, great... she’s just as insufferable. Must be an elf thing.”

Claude felt like he was going insane. He envied Lowell, who was likely enjoying his position as acting overseer at Fenris Castle, far removed from the chaos.

Despite Claude’s suffering, the administrative tasks related to the northern army were being resolved with incredible speed and precision.

Thanks to Ereneth’s involvement, handling the remaining Rifts also became significantly easier.

“Raaawr!”

Ereneth, who treated the northern soldiers with maternal warmth, transformed into a fierce warrior in battle. She was unrecognizable, a terrifying force that blurred the lines between protector and destroyer.

“Bind it.”

Rumble!

Massive vines summoned by Ereneth coiled tightly around the Equidema, holding the beast in place.

Although the creature struggled to break free, Piote, with Belinda’s assistance, quickly leaped onto its neck.

“Graaaaargh!”

As before, the team efficiently subdued the Equidema. With Ereneth’s help, Piote’s maneuvers became faster and more effective.

Even when the vines were broken, other skilled fighters provided continuous support, ensuring the creature remained under control.

Watching this seamless teamwork, Ereneth couldn’t help but marvel.

“To think you could subdue such a beast this easily... You are truly remarkable.”

Ghislain shrugged and asked, “How did you handle them on your end?”

“Well... we...”

Her gaze drifted into the distance, as though lost in memories, before she shook her head. “No, it’s nothing.”

“Hmm... definitely suspicious.”

Ghislain narrowed his eyes. Ereneth’s reaction only deepened his suspicions.

If this was her first encounter with a Rift beast, she should have been more surprised. Yet, her words and demeanor suggested familiarity.

She was hiding something, of that much Ghislain was certain.

“I’ll find out eventually.”

Though he wasn’t one to pry unnecessarily, if her secrets held vital clues to resolving the current crisis, he wouldn’t let them remain buried.

Thanks to their increased efficiency in handling Rifts, the northern army’s morale soared.

The army moved slowly, dealing with both Rifts and administrative tasks, almost like a mobile fiefdom. Even Dark was stretched thin, sending his duplicates in all directions to manage the chaos.

As the northern forces completed their work in the east and prepared to regroup with the allied forces, a troubling thought crossed Ghislain’s mind.

“Something’s off. Why haven’t they made their move yet?”

It had been a month since Ereneth joined them. With the strength of the Ducal faction, any Rifts in the south should have been resolved by now.

The Salvation Order’s information network was vast; they undoubtedly knew the allied forces were coming. Reinforcements from nearby kingdoms had already arrived.

“There’s no way they’re just watching. What are they plotting?”

As Ghislain deliberated, a messenger arrived with urgent news.

“Assassins are on the move. Several officials from territories near the south have been killed.”

“What? Assassins? Who were the targets?”

“Most of them were lower-ranking officials. The overall damage is minimal, but it has caused significant unrest.”

Ghislain fell into deeper contemplation.

“Why now? Such assassinations won’t shift the tide.”

It was a meaningless endeavor. Without the involvement of a superhuman, high-ranking nobles couldn’t be killed.

Even if a superhuman successfully assassinated someone, they wouldn’t evade the ensuing pursuit.

“Even Lavier, who was near superhuman, couldn’t escape pursuit and ended up dead. Not even superhumans can fight endlessly without rest.”

Ghislain couldn’t imagine the Ducal faction being foolish enough to sacrifice a superhuman for such a reckless gambit.

“If they’re doing this, there must be another reason...”

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Before Ghislain could fully unravel the Ducal faction’s motives, another messenger brought even graver news.

“The Ducal army has begun their advance! They’ve already defeated the kingdom’s 4th Legion and are moving eastward!”

At last, the Duke of Delphine had made his move.