The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 492: There’s Something I Need You to Do (1)

“Urgh... What nonsense is this...?”

Even as the envoy gasped for air, he couldn’t help but feel that something was gravely wrong.

He had heard of Count Fenris’s infamous temper and had dismissed it as arrogance, a result of leading the kingdom’s most formidable army.

But to speak of the king so crudely?

Until now, the envoy had believed that Ghislain was, at the very least, loyal to the throne, as evidenced by his relentless battles against the Duke’s faction.

He thought Ghislain was simply a man who handled things roughly, but it was a critical misjudgment.

This man was a traitor—someone ready to rebel at any moment.

Ghislain released the envoy’s neck and said with a mocking grin,

“Well, I guess I went a bit overboard. I did tell you to talk quickly, didn’t I? I’m not exactly patient. But hey, it’s not your fault—you’re just the messenger, right?”

“Cough! Yes, yes, that’s right! I’m just here to deliver His Majesty’s orders. Please, spare me!”

Terrified, the envoy dropped to his knees and begged for his life, glancing nervously at the axe still in Ghislain’s hand.

Ghislain smirked and asked,

“So, what you’re saying is that Marquis Branford and the other nobles are unharmed for now?”

“Yes, yes! Right now, only the nobles who were suppressed by the Marquis are aligned with His Majesty. Even His Majesty seems hesitant to act against them due to the potential backlash.”

“And what about the Royal Army commanders who are retreating? When are they being replaced?”

“The Royal Knights were sent out, so it’s likely the commanders have already been replaced during their march.”

“I see.”

Ghislain quickly grasped the situation. Marquis Branford and his supporters were safe—for now.

It wasn’t just the Royal Army; many lords and nobles across the land still aligned themselves with the Marquis.

It would take King Berhem years to stabilize the political landscape and consolidate power. Only then could he dare to eliminate Branford.

That is, if the king survived that long.

Marquis Branford likely understood this, which was why he had stepped aside so readily.

Ghislain’s eyes turned cold as he looked at the envoy.

“There’s something else I’m curious about.”

“Anything, sir. Please, ask,” the envoy replied immediately, his tone desperate to appease.

Ghislain’s satisfied expression showed his approval. At least the envoy was a quick learner.

“The mage who healed the king—is he a priest from the Salvation Order?”

“There... there are rumors to that effect. However, no one knows his true identity. But who else could possess such powers other than a priest of the Salvation Order? And why else would His Majesty suddenly propose peace talks with the Duke’s faction?”

“Hmm, makes sense.”

Ghislain nodded. A high-ranking priest from the Salvation Order could indeed possess such abilities.

Whether it was their Rift magic circles, their Holy Warriors, or Melkir’s shattered mana core, the Order had a knack for utilizing human life force to fuel their unnatural experiments.

It was clear the king had turned to them in desperation, and they had obliged for their own reasons.

But what could those reasons be?

“Just because the current situation isn’t in their favor?”

Ghislain furrowed his brows, pressing his fingers against his temple.

It didn’t add up.

The Salvation Order had persistently targeted the royal family. Why heal the king instead of killing him?

If their goal was to eliminate the king, they would have done so the moment they got close.

There was only one explanation left.

“There’s something they want from the royal family.”

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Whether it was the king, the royal lineage, or some artifact of the royal house, both the Duke’s faction and the Salvation Order sought something specific.

Attacking Ghislain and the Northern Army was just a secondary objective.

Ghislain pressed the blade of his axe to the envoy’s neck and said,

“One more question.”

The envoy froze, the cold steel against his skin making him shudder.

“Y-yes. Anything, sir.”

“There are already rumors that the mage is a priest of the Salvation Order. If that’s true, it means the royal family has allied with the Order. Would you agree?”

“Yes, yes. That’s why the people in the capital are so uneasy.”

“And the bishops of the Four Great Churches? Surely they oppose the ceasefire?”

“They’re all watching quietly... Or rather, they seem to be preparing to flee,” the envoy admitted.

Ghislain let out a dry chuckle. He could understand the bishops’ fear. They likely didn’t dare openly oppose the ceasefire, knowing the Salvation Order wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.

With the shift in power, opposing the ceasefire openly would be dangerous, especially since the king was using the suffering of the people as his justification.

Ghislain asked the most pressing question on his mind.

“What did the king promise that priest as payment?”

“As far as I know, it was the cessation of hostilities. The Duke’s forces have been defeated—”

“Anything else?”

“No, there were no other conditions mentioned...”

“There has to be something else. Think harder. Even rumors will do.”

The axe pressed harder against the envoy’s neck, causing him to stammer,

“W-wait! I need a moment to think!”

“Take your time,” Ghislain said coolly. “But say whatever comes to mind if you want to live.”

The envoy’s mind raced, and after a moment, he blurted out,

“There’s one thing! During a banquet, His Majesty—he was drunk and said something to the mage. It spread quickly among the nobles.”

Ghislain’s eyes gleamed with interest.

“What did he say?”

“He said... he couldn’t wait to have ‘it.’”

“What’s ‘it’?”

“I... I don’t know. That’s all he said. They laughed it off, and the nobles thought it was some kind of gift. That’s all I know.”

Ghislain pondered this for a moment before breaking into a grin.

“As I thought.”

The king and the Salvation Order must have struck a deal. Whatever ‘it’ was, it was the true condition of their arrangement.

Ghislain lowered his axe and said,

“I’ll let you live, but deliver my message.”

“Y-yes, sir. Anything you say.”

“The Northern Army will not disband.”

“Yes!”

“And I will remain its commander.”

“Yes, yes!”

The envoy nodded fervently, knowing full well that delivering this message would enrage the king. But arguing now would only get him killed.

“Tell them this as well: I have no intention of negotiating a ceasefire with the Duke’s faction.”

“I... I understand. I will relay it.”

“Good. Now go. But first, I’ll have you treated.”

At Ghislain’s signal, Piote approached and healed the envoy’s wounds. The moment he was treated, the envoy fled the Northern Army’s camp as fast as he could.

After the envoy left, Ghislain sat down, lost in thought.

His aides wore grim expressions. This internal conflict, coming right before an important battle, could easily escalate.

If they weren’t careful, they might end up fighting the Royal Army on top of everything else.

In fact, Ghislain’s refusal to disband the Northern Army made it almost certain that they would clash with the kingdom’s forces.

Claude hesitated before asking,

“Commander... are you planning to go to the capital to rescue them?”

Ghislain thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“No, there’s no need for that.”

“Why not?”

“One traitor is enough. There’s no need for all of us to rebel. And besides, how would we rescue so many nobles?”

Ghislain smiled faintly. Even if he went, Marquis Branford would likely refuse to be rescued.

The Marquis had stepped down voluntarily, despite having the power to kill the king. There was no point complicating things further.

“All I need to do is kill the king.”

His blunt statement darkened the expressions of those around him.

It seemed the inevitable had come—Ghislain was truly becoming a rebel.

He placed a flag on the map, marking the capital of Cardenia.

“We’re going to seize the capital. The royal family Marquis Branford sought to protect is finished.”

Claude looked uncertain but nodded.

“I understand. The kingdom needs a new leader. While it may not matter to us, the people and other nobles will demand it.”

Ghislain nodded, signaling his understanding. The collapse of the royal family would leave a vacuum that needed to be filled.

“Send word to the allied forces. Tell them the king has allied with the Salvation Order. Move our troops to the western and northern borders and prepare to hold defensive positions. Let them know they are to follow my orders alone now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Turning to his spies, Ghislain said,

“Tell Lowell to infiltrate the capital fully. I want every move they make monitored from now on.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ghislain finally addressed the room.

“Soon, I’ll infiltrate the capital myself. There’s something I need to confirm.”

“You’re going alone to seize the capital?” Claude asked, shocked.

Ghislain smirked.

“Not immediately. I’ll explain before I leave. For now, there are more pressing matters.”

The Northern Army began packing up to move. Their current location was vulnerable to encirclement by both the Royal Army and the Duke’s forces.

The political situation had descended into chaos following Marquis Branford’s resignation.

“The king has made a foolish decision.”

Ghislain tightened his grip on his sword sheath, his eyes glinting with a murderous resolve.

Marquis Branford and the nobles had helped him grow faster than expected, providing the support needed to build his power.

Now, with those constraints gone, he no longer needed to hold back.

“The royal family is finished.”

The kingdom had reached its breaking point.

“Let’s see this through to the end. Until one of us dies.”

Ghislain smirked, his expression sharp and resolute.

For the first time, he felt unburdened. Now, nothing stood in his way.

***

The Northern Army quickly relocated and stationed itself at the foremost fortress of Fenris.

Ghislain, accompanied by only a small contingent, immediately set out for Ferdium. He had urgent matters to discuss with his father.

Upon receiving word of Ghislain's arrival, Zvalter summoned all his retainers. He, too, understood the precariousness of the current political climate.

"I heard the news a short while ago. What on earth is going on? Does your presence here mean the Northern Army has retreated?"

Zvalter bombarded Ghislain with questions, his tone filled with concern.

High-ranking nobles who had been leading the war effort had all been ousted, and a new power structure was forming around the king.

As a father, Zvalter couldn't help but worry about his son, who had been closely aligned with Marquis Branford.

Ghislain briefly recounted the events and continued,

"The Northern Army cannot be disbanded. Regardless of what we do, the king has allied with the Duke’s faction, and they will never leave us alone."

"How could things come to this?"

"The Northern Army represents the greatest threat to them."

"...All the hard-fought battles were for nothing. Now we find ourselves on the verge of becoming traitors," Zvalter muttered, collapsing into a chair with a weary voice.

The retainers of Ferdium mirrored their lord's anxious expressions.

Just days ago, they had believed victory was within their grasp. Now, they faced the grim prospect of being branded as rebels.

Silence filled the hall until Ghislain, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room, broke it.

"No, it hasn’t been for nothing. Because of our efforts, the Northern Army is now the strongest force in the kingdom. With Ferdium’s support, we will be even stronger."

"..."

"Conflict is now unavoidable."

"..."

"If we must fight, then we must win—no matter the cost. And for that, Father, there is something I need you to do."

"...What do you need me to do?" Zvalter asked, his voice heavy with resignation.

Ghislain spoke firmly, his voice resonating through the hall.

"Father, I need you... to become the new king of this nation."