The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 279: Chapter 278: Living Together, Dying Together (1)



In war, the first engagement is more important than one might think.

It is because the initial battle serves as the foundation for determining the opponent's strength and planning how to conduct the war.

Harold was lost in thought as he looked at Baron Hutton, who returned with severe injuries.

"They're stronger than I thought.'

He had thought he could seize the place in one swift strike. However, the Fenris forces, aside from their fierce momentum, were too individually powerful.

Even from afar, it was evident that the enemy commander was formidable. That's why Harold had played his strongest card, yet even Baron Hutton returned with such grievous wounds.

"Are you all right?"

"... I apologize, Count."

Baron Hutton, his face pale, could not even properly stand.

Although a potion had been hastily poured, it wouldn't heal easily. Such is the nature of wounds inflicted with mana. The rampant energy disrupts the healing process.

The stronger the opponent, the longer that energy lingers, making it difficult to recover quickly even with potions or holy power.

Harold observed Baron Hutton briefly before asking.

"What's your impression? After experiencing their skill firsthand. Can we push through with more troops?"

"Of course, we can occupy the place, but... the losses will be considerable. If we want to minimize casualties, we'll need to take our time."

"Hmm... we don't have much time to spare."

"However, wouldn't significant losses be undesirable as well?"

That was true. Conquering Fenris and killing Ghislain would not be the end. They would still have to take Perdium and continue fighting the Royalist faction for a long time.

If more than half the troops were lost in the process of conquering Fenris and Perdium, it would be hard to endure the struggle against the Royalist forces.

They needed to maintain at least 20,000 troops to deter others from making a move. "Amelia, that bitch, isn't listening anymore. That's why I told her to join us right away." If Amelia had joined in time, they would have had more options. But now, Rayfold was also dealing with a joint attack from several northern lords, making it impossible for her to move.

Thus, Harold had no choice but to deliberate.

'Should I take more time?'

It felt as if he was fighting an army of ten thousand with only a thousand. If they recklessly tried to break through those elite forces, the losses would be severe.

He didn't want to see heavy casualties or the morale of his forces broken here.

However, the surrounding situation didn't allow for prolonged delays. They needed to capture the fortress as soon as possible.

As Harold deliberated, Baron Hutton cautiously spoke.

"How about... trying to win them over instead?"

"Win them over?"

"Yes, I heard that most of the Fenris forces come from humble origins. Especially that Gillian and the knights-they are said to be former mercenaries."

"Hmm..."

"It's clear that Count Fenris must have spent a lot of money to gather and lead them. Just looking at their equipment shows that. They must have been treated well in the territory, living comfortably. He must have spent an enormous amount of money just to keep skilled individuals like that."

Harold nodded in agreement.

The higher-ranked the mercenary, the more expensive their employment cost. But if that man, known as the food king of the north, was involved, he would certainly have the means to maintain them.

Seeing Harold's interest, Baron Hutton continued with more confidence.

"In the end, they are bound by money. While they are adhering to their contracts now, their loyalty is not genuine. They wouldn't have deep allegiance."

"So, you suggest we promise them better treatment and persuade them to switch sides?"

"Yes, they're equipped with excellent gear and have great skills, so their morale is high. But deep down, they must know they can't defeat us. The greatest virtue for a mercenary isn't keeping faith but surviving."

"That makes sense."

"The commander of the fortress, Gillian, is too talented a figure for Count Fenris to keep under his control. If we can win him over, it will make everything much easier moving forward."

"Are you telling me to trust and use a dog that betrayed its master?"

"Mercenaries are not bound by loyalty. They simply perform according to the pay they receive. Judging by how fiercely they fight even as mercenaries, they seem to be reasonably principled individuals."

Baron Hutton desperately tried to persuade Harold. Though he had been grievously wounded by Gillian, he couldn't deny the man's exceptional prowess.

This was someone who could fight Baron Hutton, known for his top-tier swordsmanship in the north, on equal footing.

If he had been in peak condition, or if he hadn't been pressed for time and could fight to the end, he might have lost.

It would be truly regrettable for such a man to die meaninglessly in a place like this.

Harold nodded several times in agreement.

"Indeed, someone who can fight you on par is rare in the north."

Baron Hutton had been the swordsmanship mentor to Viktor, who was aiming to become the North's Finest Sword. He didn't think even Jürgen, known as the strongest swordsman in the north, was better than him.

It was just that being a lord of a territory meant he rarely had opportunities for head-on confrontations. If there had been a war where he faced Jürgen, the outcome would have been

anyone's guess.

After contemplating Baron Hutton's persuasion, Harold finally nodded firmly.

"Very well. Let's spend a few more days and try it."

From Desmond's camp, an envoy carrying a white flag was immediately dispatched.

Gillian glared at the envoy and asked.

"Surrender, is it?"

His face was still pale from unhealed wounds. Bandages were wrapped all over his body. The pain and exhaustion etched on his face made it clear he was in no condition for prolonged

fighting.

The envoy briefly scanned Gillian from head to toe and then opened his mouth with a haughty

expression.

"Indeed. The Count promises you the finest treatment."

The tone was polite, but the expression was anything but. It exuded an air of condescension,

as if to say, "What can someone like you do?"

The envoy continued, speaking as though bestowing a favor.

"I hear that most of you are former mercenaries. We offer more money and better treatment. Isn't it natural for mercenaries to move to an employer who offers better conditions?" Lucas, standing beside Gillian, gripped his spear tightly. The other knights reacted similarly.

They were well aware of how the outside world viewed them. After all, they had spent their lives being looked down upon.

But this... this was blatant mockery, treating them as faithless scoundrels.

Sssssss.

Killing intent began to radiate from all directions. The envoy and his attendants felt a

stabbing pain in their skin.

The envoy took a step back and smirked.

"Surely, you don't really think of yourselves as knights?"

||||

"You are not knights. You're merely mercenaries who have grown stronger, devoid of chivalry. Face reality. There's no need to throw away your lives for a flimsy contract, honor, or

pride."

The envoy arrogantly raised his head, surveying the knights as he spoke.

"Your virtue lies in survival, as mercenaries. There's no need to waste precious lives here."

The envoy's strategy was to shatter their misconceptions and force them to face reality. That

way, they would clearly see the fear of their impending doom.

This was his chosen method. He had no intention of flattering them over a foregone

conclusion.

"You should abandon Count Fenris. Sign a new contract with us. If necessary, we'll even cover

your penalties. We can recover the cost soon enough."

"You bastard..." Unable to contain himself, Lucas released a torrent of killing intent and stepped forward.

The envoy had inflicted wounds on them with words, without even drawing a sword.

In the past, they might have laughed it off without a care.

But now, things are different.

Having grown alongside Ghislain, they couldn't accept such disrespect anymore.

Other knights were also breathing heavily, trembling with anger. They wanted to kill the

envoy on the spot.

All eyes turned to Gillian.

Gillian would never tolerate this. He was the most knightly person in the territory, utterly

loyal to his lord.

"Tell your Count to give us some time. I need to persuade the others. And next time, come

back with proper terms, not just words."

"!"

The knights were momentarily stunned into silence, unable to speak.

The envoy looked around at the knights and sneered, then spoke in a mocking tone.

"Wise decision. I hope the rest of you think it over carefully as well. There's no need to throw

away your precious lives meaninglessly here."

With those words, the envoy departed. After a brief silence, Lucas pointed his spear at

Gillian's throat and spoke.

"Instructor... are you clinging to life now?"

The air grew tense again, the killing intent palpable, as if he was ready to strike depending on

the answer.

Other knights also began raising their spears, one by one.

"I didn't think you were a coward. Did getting stabbed hard by the enemy make you scared?"

"Are you planning to betray the lord now?"

"Living with thoughts like that is why we've been ridiculed as rootless scum our whole lives."

Gillian folded his arms and looked around at the knights.

"Why? Now that the opportunity has come, is there anyone here who wants to surrender too?"

"You bastard!"

Whoosh!

Lucas thrust his spear without warning. But Gillian tilted his head slightly to dodge it.

Lucas didn't stop there and immediately swung his spear to strike Gillian's face.

Thud!

Gillian easily caught the incoming spear shaft. Lucas frowned and tried to pull it free, but it

didn't budge.

Holding the spear firmly, Gillian glanced at the knights around him. Judging by the killing

intent on their faces, none of them seemed inclined to surrender.

He smirked briefly before speaking.

"You fools. If they're offering us time, rejecting it outright would only be a loss, wouldn't it?"

"Huh?"

The knights looked confused. They had been so enraged by the insults that they hadn't

thought that far ahead.

Gillian's eyes sharpened.

"It's a relief that none of you are actually considering their offer. Protecting our pride can

wait. Save your anger over the insults for when we face them in battle. For now, buying time is

what's best for the lord."

"Oh..."

"Our instructor, putting aside his pride to act so shamelessly?"

"Turns out he's sneakily thoughtful, huh?"

Realizing the misunderstanding, the knights lowered their weapons and began to laugh

again.

Watching their behavior, Gillian shook his head.

"Simpletons."

But that's probably why Ghislain liked them so much. They were always honest with their

emotions, pure and incapable of scheming behind someone's back.

"Anyway, they won't give us much time. Use this chance to recover your mana and stamina."

The knights, scratching their heads awkwardly, withdrew.

Receiving the envoy's report, Harold nodded in satisfaction.

"Of course, such lowly men can't help it. They lack honor and only chase money."

If they had truly been knights, Harold wouldn't have trusted them so easily. But his preconceived notion about their humble origins blinded him.

People like that frequently switched sides to whoever offered better conditions. "Still, this is good. It should reduce our casualties. Their skills are decent, so offer them generous terms."

The envoy reported his success with confidence. Now all Harold had to do was wait patiently, magnanimously.

Two days later, the envoy returned to the Fenris camp and emphasized the extraordinary

terms they were offering.

"These terms should more than satisfy you. Have you not yet convinced everyone?"

Gillian, with a slightly troubled expression, replied.

"The terms are appealing, but there are still a few who oppose. Please give us a little moreNôv(el)B\\jnn

time. Some don't fully understand the terms yet."

The envoy glanced around and indeed saw a group of knights gathered in one corner, their

faces filled with dissatisfaction.

Although more knights seemed to have sided with Gillian, it appeared he hadn't convinced

them all.

The envoy, with a sharp gaze, spoke in a warning tone.

"Tsk... We don't have much time either. Abandon those who resist. These terms are something

you won't find anywhere else. I'll return tomorrow."

The envoy visited daily, pressuring Gillian. While more knights appeared to join Gillian's side

each day, the pace was excruciatingly slow. Eventually, the envoy realized something new.

"These scum are dragging this out to negotiate for even better terms!' Grinding his teeth, the envoy thought these lowly men only cared about money.

Even in the midst of a war, they resorted to such tricks. Forced to act, the envoy offered

slightly better terms.

Still, Gillian insisted he needed more time to persuade everyone.

This back-and-forth stretched out for an entire week. Having received a final warning from

Harold, the envoy returned, trembling with anxiety.

"How much longer do you need?! We can't wait any longer! Today is the last chance!"

"One person remains."

The envoy turned his head to see a lone knight standing apart from the group.

"And who is he?"

The knight answered before anyone else could, speaking in a solemn tone.

"I am Lucas, a genius spearman."

"Why are you the only one refusing to surrender? Is it because of pride?"

"I'm too angry to talk."

"What are you angry about?"

"Do you really not know why I'm angry?"

The envoy felt like he might explode, but today was his last chance. Swallowing his

frustration, he tried to soothe the knight.

"If I've offended you in any way, I apologize. So please, just tell me."

"What exactly did you do wrong?"

"You don't even know what you did wrong, but you're apologizing?"

"..."

"Forget it. I don't want to talk anymore. I feel even worse now."

The envoy suppressed his growing fury. If he failed to bring them over today, he was as good

as dead.

With no choice, he spent hours trying to persuade Lucas, practically begging him to explain why he was upset.

Eventually, Lucas, seeming slightly appeased, responded curtly.

"I don't want to surrender because I'm not satisfied with the terms. I have my own

conditions."

"What... What are your conditions? These terms are already excellent! If you follow Count Desmond, you'll live a life of luxury!"

"It's not enough. I want a noble title and a small estate. I want to become a lord. That was my

mother's dream for me."

"You... you insane...!"

This lowborn dared to demand something so outrageous. There was no reasoning with

someone so delusional.

The envoy turned to Gillian, shouting.

"Just kill this bastard! Haven't you convinced the other knights already?!"

"I refuse."

"What? What did you say?"

"We live together, and we die together. I can't accept your proposal. Give us another week,

and I'll persuade him."

The envoy's face went pale. Listening to Gillian's words, he finally understood.

'Live together, die together?'

It became clear-they had never intended to surrender in the first place.

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