The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 457: Now, Time to Shine (1)

Melkir, having swiftly dodged the attack, widened the distance between himself and his attacker before slowly turning to look back.

Thud, thud, thud!

Moments later, a group emerged from the burning forest. At a glance, Melkir immediately recognized the approaching figure.

“Count Fenris.”

The overwhelming aura radiating from Ghislain sent shivers through Melkir’s body. He licked his lips in anticipation.

“You’ve finally arrived.”

With a sharp neigh, Ghislain pulled back on the reins of his legendary warhorse, the Black King, bringing it to a halt.

“Gillian, take the knights and head for the castle. Hunt down every last one of them.”

“Understood.”

Gillian, without hesitation, led the knights onward, their horses charging toward the castle.

Melkir, standing by, didn’t attempt to stop them. Instead, he even stepped aside, waving a hand mockingly in the direction they needed to go, as if guiding their path.

Gillian, clearly irritated, shot a glare at him but didn’t stop. He and the knights quickly disappeared into the distance.

As they vanished, Melkir stretched his neck from side to side, cracking the joints with a sinister smile.

“Sending all your subordinates away? Feeling confident, are you? Well, not entirely—you did leave one behind. Just the two of you against me?”

Standing beside Ghislain was Belinda, who had been glaring at Melkir the entire time.

Though his face was obscured by bandages, Belinda didn’t rely solely on appearances to identify him. The man’s aura, mannerisms, and voice—all unmistakably pointed to someone from her past.

Clenching her eyes shut briefly as if to confirm her suspicions, Belinda opened them again and spoke.

“So, you’re still alive. Melkir the Traitor.”

Melkir raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he scrutinized her.

“Traitor? You know me?”

Belinda’s eyes shimmered with tears as a single drop rolled down her cheek.

“I could never forget the man who betrayed Lady Anette and ambushed her.”

The mention of that name caused a massive surge of energy to radiate from Melkir’s body. Malice burned brightly in his eyes, visible even through the bandages.

“So you know that woman. Who are you, and where is she now?”

“She passed away. Because of the injuries you inflicted during your battle.”

Melkir hesitated for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Ha! Hahaha! She’s dead? Finally dead? Hahaha! Then I won! I won! Hahahaha!”

His laughter was unrestrained, almost maniacal. For twenty years, the bitterness and rage that had consumed him now seemed to evaporate. The thought that the one who had reduced him to his current state was ultimately defeated brought him immense satisfaction.

Belinda, however, sneered at his outburst.

“Won? You think sneaking in with hundreds of assassins and still failing counts as a win? You barely survived, flailing miserably. You’re just relieved because the one you feared most is gone, aren’t you?”

Melkir’s eyes flared with fury at her words.

“You... Who are you? How do you know all this?”

The shame of his past was known only to a select few within the Duke’s faction and the Guwon Church. There was no way an outsider could have such knowledge.

As he glared at her, his eyes widened in realization.

“Wait... Belinda?”

“Glad you remembered.”

“Hah! Hahaha! It’s you! You’re alive!”

With a metallic clang, two daggers appeared in Melkir’s hands.

“So, the little girl managed to survive. Did Anette take you and flee?”

Belinda didn’t respond. She simply glared coldly at him, gathering her mana.

Her robe fluttered, revealing dozens of daggers connected to her body, writhing like serpents before lifting into the air.

Melkir chuckled at the sight.

“Just like her. That technique is familiar. Looks like you learned a thing or two while hiding. I’ll kill you today and erase every trace of my disgraceful past. Both of you, come at me.”

As the tension escalated between the two, Ghislain, who had been silently observing the exchange, broke the awkward silence.

“Belinda, do you actually know him? And who’s this Anette?”

Belinda bit her lip before letting out a sigh. Her expression was a mix of regret and determination.

“Lady Anette was my master and the leader of the organization I belonged to. And...”

Ghislain raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.

“And?”

“...She was your mother.”

“...”

Melkir’s head snapped toward Ghislain, while the Count himself froze in disbelief.

Blinking as though he had misheard, Ghislain stammered.

“My mother... was an assassin?”

“Not a typical assassin. She was... something akin to a righteous assassin.”

Ghislain, who had never heard the term “righteous assassin” before, felt his thoughts spiral.

He didn’t have many memories of his mother, who had passed away when he was young. All he recalled was that she had been frail, which was why she hadn’t lived long. He also remembered how his father had mourned her for years after her passing.

“So... you’re saying my mother’s frailty was because of that guy?”

“Yes. She sustained grave injuries fighting this despicable man—her mana core was shattered.”

“Wait... Even with injuries like that, she married my father, had me and Elena, and lived for several more years? How is that possible?”

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Shattering a mana core usually resulted in severe consequences, making even basic survival difficult. Most would deteriorate rapidly, succumbing to illness within a short time. Only those born with extraordinary resilience or using alternative methods to sustain their life could defy such odds, though such cases were rare.

Belinda nodded solemnly.

“Yes. Lady Anette was born with divine energy. She was exceptionally strong.”

“Wow...”

Ghislain nodded, processing the revelation. Divine energy amplified one’s vitality and strength to levels far beyond the ordinary. He had known of others with similar gifts, including some of the Seven Strongest of the Continent in his past life.

If his mother had been one of those rare individuals, it explained how she survived so long with such devastating injuries.

“I see. I used to wonder why Elena and I are so healthy when our mother was so frail. Now it makes sense—it was because of that injury.”

Belinda added with conviction:

“Yes. She wasn’t naturally weak. It was this scoundrel who inflicted such lasting harm. Honestly, I can’t comprehend how he’s even alive after what happened.”

Ghislain’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Melkir, whose every breath exuded a dark aura.

“The Guwon Church must have done something to him,” he muttered.

Melkir’s head tilted again as he looked at Ghislain and Belinda.

“That’s Anette’s son? The one who conquered the North and ascended to Master-level?”

“Indeed. The son of Lady Anette, the strongest woman in the kingdom,” Belinda retorted.

Melkir sneered but couldn’t hide a flicker of nervousness.

“I see. So that’s why he’s grown so powerful so quickly. It must be because he inherited her divine energy.”

Belinda shook her head proudly.

“No. The Young Master didn’t inherit her divine energy, nor did he learn her mana techniques or skills.”

“What? Then how did he reach Master-level at his age?”

“Through his own effort. He trained using only Ferdium’s mana techniques and swordsmanship. Everything he achieved, he earned himself.”

“Nonsense! It must be her secrets that propelled him to this level!”

“Enough! The Young Master has earned his strength, and you will stop disgracing my master with your filthy mouth, you insolent bastard.”

Boom!

Belinda vanished in an instant, reappearing behind Melkir and launching a dagger strike. However, her target had already moved.

As she turned, Melkir’s bandaged face appeared before her, his dagger aimed at her abdomen.

Clang!

Belinda barely deflected the blow and retreated as a swarm of her daggers flew toward him. The air was filled with deadly blades, but Melkir evaded them all.

Her form blurred and disappeared into the shadows, and Melkir followed suit, his body fading as well.

Clang! Clang!

The two fighters disappeared and reappeared across the battlefield, their movements so swift they were almost impossible to follow.

Ghislain watched their exchange, his sharp eyes tracking every motion while deep in thought.

“Belinda won’t be able to win just yet.”

Melkir was undoubtedly strong. While his arrogance in direct combat made him seem vulnerable, he was still dangerous, especially if he launched a proper ambush.

Each of his movements exuded confidence.

“He’s holding back.”

Ghislain could tell that Melkir wasn’t using his full strength. Whether it was because he felt he didn’t need to or because he wanted to conserve energy in a two-versus-one scenario, it was clear he still had plenty in reserve.

“Hmm, what should I do here...”

Normally, Ghislain would have joined the fight without hesitation, finishing Melkir swiftly alongside Belinda. This was, after all, the man who had inflicted such grave injuries on his mother.

But something held him back this time.

“It’s rare for Belinda to display this much emotion.”

Belinda clearly wanted to defeat Melkir with her own hands, to sever the thread of their painful history herself.

Boom! Clang!

Belinda’s body began to show signs of wear. Small cuts opened across her form, some emitting faint wisps of smoke as if poisoned.

Swish!

Unable to maintain her ground, Belinda leapt back, creating distance between herself and her opponent.

Melkir, catching his breath, looked at her with a smirk.

“Well, well... Belinda, hailed as the greatest talent in the history of the Shadow Knights. Twenty years, and this is all you’ve got? Anette must have had terrible judgment in choosing her disciples.”

“Shut up.”

Belinda bit her lip in frustration. She desperately wanted to end Melkir’s life herself, but the gap between her and the transcendent assassin was still insurmountable.

Melkir glanced at Ghislain with a mocking sneer.

“You’re doing well these days, so you must think I’m beneath you. Don’t forget—I was a Master before you were even born.”

“So?”

“So, how long are you planning to just stand there? Are you going to wait until this woman dies before you step in? You seem awfully relaxed.”

“Belinda wants to kill you herself. Isn’t that right?” Ghislain asked, his tone calm.

Belinda nodded, her voice steady despite the strain on her body.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Young Master, but I must be the one to kill him.”

Hearing this, Melkir chuckled, his shoulders shaking in amusement.

“Hahaha, so you’re just going to stand there and watch? You’ll regret this once she’s dead. But fine, suit yourself.”

Swish.

Spinning one of his daggers between his fingers, Melkir sneered, his movements confident and deliberate.

He didn’t truly believe Ghislain would stay out of the fight. The moment Belinda’s life was in real danger, Ghislain would intervene, and Melkir planned to exploit that opening with a decisive attack.

“Shall we continue?”

Grinning, he vanished.

“Tch!”

Clang!

Belinda twisted her body just in time to block the attack as Melkir reappeared behind her. Their battle resumed with renewed intensity.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Darkness swirled around them, a stark contrast to the light-filled battles of knights.

The two assassins focused their energy into razor-sharp strikes aimed solely at vital points, their combat precise and controlled. Unlike knights, there were no shockwaves or grand displays of power—just deadly efficiency.

Crack!

One of Belinda’s daggers fractured under the force of Melkir’s aura blade. Another’s wire snapped, sending it clattering to the ground.

Even though she had absorbed a Dragon Heart and amassed a considerable amount of mana, the difference in how they concentrated their power was clear.

Melkir didn’t let up, his taunts cutting just as sharply as his blade.

“Still stuck behind the wall, aren’t you? Can’t even use Anette’s secret techniques properly. What have you been doing for the past twenty years? Playing around?”

Belinda said nothing, her lips pressed tightly together. She couldn’t even afford the time to respond.

She knew the truth. She wanted to end this grudge with her own hands, but the chances of victory felt slim.

Even after reaching a level of mana comparable to a transcendent, she had failed to surpass the critical barrier that would let her go beyond.

She knew why. Yet, she didn’t regret her choices.

“That’s the life I chose to live.”

From the sidelines, Ghislain watched her with a tinge of pity in his eyes.

Melkir noticed the momentary softness in Ghislain’s gaze and laughed inwardly.

“So, he does care. All I have to do is push a little harder, and he’ll step in. When that happens, I’ll use my ace.”

But for now, his attention remained on Belinda, whose daggers kept breaking one after another.

Melkir’s movements became even more precise, his attacks relentless as he pressed his advantage. Belinda, though battered and bleeding, held her ground, her eyes blazing with determination.

“You’re out of tricks, aren’t you? Just give up already.”

Belinda didn’t respond, but her hands trembled as she readied her remaining daggers.

Melkir smirked, sensing her exhaustion. “This ends now.”

But just as he moved in for the finishing blow, a faint shift in the air caused his smile to waver.

From his vantage point, Ghislain’s eyes narrowed. He exhaled deeply, his expression calm yet resolute.

“Belinda.”

His voice was soft but carried authority.

Belinda flinched slightly at his tone but didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to. She knew what he was going to say.

“I’ll handle this.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet declaration that caused Melkir to momentarily pause.

Ghislain slowly stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The atmosphere shifted, the weight of Ghislain’s aura descending like a storm.

“You’ve done enough.”

Belinda’s eyes widened, and though she didn’t want to give up, she knew this was Ghislain’s fight now.